#is it procrastination if I’m actually taking notes while I read
WKX’s gaydar “you forgot to cut your sleeve, lemme help you with that” outing men left and right unbeknownst to them
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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?”
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.
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.”
“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.
Just checking in
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.
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.
You hit send and not even two minutes later, you received a response.
Perfect! I’ll see you then :)
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.
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.
You’re fucking lying!
“But we didn’t fuck.”
“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––”
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?”
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.
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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a map of our love. | timothée chalamet
summary — three big cities, two stupidly-in-love people, and one home.
pairing — timothée chalamet x f!reader
genre&tags — slice of life au, fluff, all that cutesy traveling shit that couples do, flying-induced anxiety, might require some basic knowledge about english lit (but who hasn’t read pride and prejudice??), fun country-related facts sprinkled here n there
warning(s) — none
w.c. — 732
a/n — i think anon requested this in like 2018 or 2019 when tim’s fandom was still largely active but they’ve sort of died down now oops 😅 too little, too late, i know, but, anon (if you’re still out there and waiting), you must admit my level of procrastination is unmatched! love you all very very much, don’t forget to take care of yourselves, and, for all da white boy lovers out there, enjoy some good clean wholesome fun with mah boi timmy
Loving you, it seems, comes easily to Timothée.
In London, you pull him by his hoodie sleeve from bookstore to bookstore, along historic cobblestone streets, with the energy of a frenetic kid at a toy store. You find a secondhand, tattered copy of Pride and Prejudice with a handwritten dedication on the title page that reads, "For Amelia. I'd give up my pride for you a thousand times over." You squeal over the prospective identity of this book's previous owner to him, weaving a grand tale about the romance that led to the scrawled note, and he is more than happy to listen. He buys the book for you and you fall asleep on his shoulder on the Tube ride back to your hotel, still clinging tightly onto it. His side starts to get sore after a while, and if this were anyone else, he'd nudge them awake for some sweet relief — but it's you, so of course he doesn't. Stays like that until it’s your stop is what he does instead.
In Paris, you ask him to take a picture of you as you smoke a cigarette in a béret — the quintessential French stereotype. "Am I doing your people justice?" You joke. He sits across the iron café table from you, watching you pose playfully through the lens of his iPhone camera and making no attempts to suppress the giddy grin he's got on. "Oh, definitely. I can barely tell you're not from here." Later, at night, you stroll along the Pont des Arts and you whisper to him, full of awe as you survey the nippy gloom of the city, "I wonder how many keys there are at the bottom of the Seine from the old love locks that used to be attached to the bridge... It must house, like, hundreds of thousands of promises.” He notices you stare straight down into the calm waters intently, almost as if you can see the keys you're talking about materialize on the river floor. “I wonder how many of those relationships actually lasted." You quietly muse. He doesn’t say anything — just juts out his hand towards your chest suddenly and twists it in front of your heart, catching you by surprise before feigning a toss into the air. You roll your eyes when he looks back at you, but you do the same to him regardless.
In Tokyo, you two share Yakiniku and Sake in some hole-in-the-wall bar at Ebisu Alley. There's a Japanese Jazz record playing softly in the background, all high-pitched strings and sweet, feminine crooning. The air is sticky with heat, and your cheeks are tinted red as you gobble down the meat. There's one last skewer left on the plate and you look up at him guiltily, eyes wide and smile sheepish. He chuckles lightly, nodding his head. "Of course. Go ahead."
On the flight home, he holds your hand tightly as your plane gets ready to depart. You shut your eyes and try to focus on the sound of his voice instead of the anxiety spiking through your veins. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." — He repeats it like a religious mantra, trying to commit it to your memory. He guides you through your breathing and when you open your eyes, you're cruising smoothly in the air. The fear in your heart has dissipated, and in place, a warm inkling of something pulses for him.
Like an innate sense, almost, he'd love you anywhere. Anywhere — but he realizes it at home.
At home, in your shared New York apartment, while he watches you stir his morning coffee (just the way he likes it, of course: with a dash of sweetened oat milk, which you put him on, and exactly three ice cubes, as always) from over your shoulder, chin tucked into your neck and caramel curls tickling your cheek, he realizes it.
He inhales the scent of coffee grounds and exhales a soft, but certain ‘I love you’.
You smile, something small. After a few moments, you let out an ‘I figured’.
He steps back when you turn, handing him his drink. He receives it, clasps it with two hands, but he’s still waiting. You can’t help but think how cute he looks — like a toddler whose toys have been taken away.
“Oh, and I love you too, loser. Duh.”
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hello bug! you put your requests off but I’m going to forget if I don’t send it in now (sorry). feel free to ignore until you’re ready love!
james potter stuck in subspace (mommy kink!)
Strawberry Lips || James Potter
Word Count: 2594
A/N: Okay so I’m an idiot, half way through I realized I both had the reader fucking him and a butt plug in and I had to go back and rework it. I procrastinated on his all day so it’s currently 11:!5 and I have to be up at 6 tomorrow and I require 8 hours of sleep to function like a real human being. There’s probably a million little mistakes but I’m too impatient to wait until morning to reread, please tell me if you notice anything super fucked up
Warnings: mommy kink, sub!James, male penetration, my first time writing subspace and all the subspace blurbs I’ve read before have been from the perspective of the submissive so please don’t judge me too harshly on this, slut is used like once, aftercare
800 Follower Celebration
“You can take it, pretty boy,” You murmured, gazing down at him adoringly, flicking your thumb over the weeping head of his overused cock as you pumped your hand up and down his shaft.
You could tell that he was completely submissive to you, from the glazed look in his eyes to the muffled whimpers and gasps that carelessly slipped from his mouth and the way his hips had stopped trying to squirm away from the combined stimulation of your hand on his member, the heavy glass of your strap on pistoning in and out of him. He was a drooling mess for you as you reached with the hand not on his cock to slap his ass, his body jolting at the unexpected, though not unwelcomed contact.
It was like there was fire flowing through your veins, with the alertness one feels after downing a few shots of espresso but minus the jitters that often accompanied it you were completely tuned in to the man before you.
Splayed out on his back you observed with a careful eye the way his thighs clenched in his efforts not to cum until he was given your permission. You studied the furrow of his brow and the drops of glistening sweat rolling down his face, examining every aspect of his appearance to make sure that he was okay.
When James slipped into subspace he slipped hard and more often than not couldn’t even remember his own name, never mind the safe word the two of you had previously established. No, it was up to you to make sure that he was alright, and the very prospect that this man, this beautiful, beautiful man, trusted you enough to allow you to take care of him in such a way was thrilling.
“Taking Mommy’s cock so well baby, is it nice and deep inside of you, making you feel nice and full?” You smiled as you let go of his cock, watching it as it bounced along with the rest of his body, in time with your rough, fast paced strokes.
“Uh huh,” He gasped, squeezing his eyes shut as he offered the pathetic nod of his head, “Feels so good Mommy, want more, want your cock.”
“You’ve already got it, baby, it’s all yours. Or do you want more?” You questioned, slapping his erect, sensitive prick without ever ceasing your thrusts in and out of him, keeping your speed consistent while watching his body jump at the sudden contact.
“Mommy,” He whimpered, his cock throbbing as you traced just the tips of your fingers up and down his shaft.
“Come on baby,” You cooed, trailing your fingertips down his shaft to his balls, taking them in the palm of your hands before griping them tightly, smirking as his face scrunched in pleasure, “How do we ask for more of Mommy’s cock?”
“Please!” He begged unabashedly, “Please Mommy, please!”
“Aw baby,” You lilted, dragging your open palm down the expanse of his muscled chest, moving up and down before finding your way to his nipple which you pinched harshly.
“Owie, Mommy,” James whined trying to squirm away from your touch.
“Gonna cum one more time for Mommy baby,” You decided after dragging your eyes over James’ quivering form to assess him, “One more, can you cum one more time for me, pretty boy?”
You spat onto your hand, returning it to his throbbing length, your ministrations on his member were faster than last time, wanting to get him right to the precipice of cumming and making him beg for it.
Sure he’d already cum four times but Jamesie was your good boy, he could take another. With the resumed stimulation of your hand, all James could manage from his lips, bitten a bright rosy red, was a desperate whine accompanied by what was supposed to be a nod was more of a jerk of his head, too fuzzy from the pleasure coursing from his veins to properly control his body.
“Good boy,” You praised, “Just one more,” You leaned back to watch your strap on slide in and out of his tight hole, thanks to a spell you and he had spent months perfecting it was like the cock strapped to you was an actual appendage of your body and you could feel every time James clenched around the glass. It was heavenly, being buried so deep in him and you couldn’t get enough of it.
Balancing yourself by gripping onto his hips you sped up your movements, lifting his bum slightly to push deeper inside of him with every stroke.
Only a fool wouldn’t be able to tell the signs that your ministrations were bringing James dangerously close to climax as he incoherently blabbered on and on, “S’too much Mommy, need more, need more of your cock.”
“Aw has Mommy fucked you dumb baby? Don’t even know what you want, you want Mommy to stop?” You mocked, smirking wickedly when his eyes flew open.
“No no no no no, please don’t be stop Mommy, don’t want you to stop, please don’t stop, need your cock,” He pleaded shaking his head in efforts to convince you.
“You’re pathetic Jamie, such a slut for my cock,” He released a high pitched whine at your teasing which just spurred you on even more.
Living up to the title of slut you’d bestowed upon him he squeezed around your strap on at the degrading name, as much as he loved praise, degradation turned him on more than he’d like to admit, “Please let me cum Mommy, pretty please, I’ve been a good boy, I wanna be your good boy, please let me cum.”
Satisfied with his begging you gave a curt nod of your head, too so focused on the pleasure that zipped up your spine warming your body as you continued both thrusting in and out and sliding your hand along James’ shaft.
“Make a mess on Mommy’s hand baby boy, be a good boy for me and cum,” Your verbal permission was all he needed, cumming almost instantaneously, covering your hand in his warm, milky white release. The feeling of his cum on your skin sent shivers up your spine and the sight of him erupting on your hand drove you over the edge too, stabilizing yourself on his thighs you felt pleasure overwhelm you.
“Fuck Jamie,” You swore under your breath as you let your head fall forward, it becoming too heavy for you to support as you felt yourself clench around nothing. You were brought back to reality from the bliss of your orgasm by the pathetic little whines that left James as his cock twitched against his stomach, he was still cumming.
“Poor baby, made you cum five times and you’ve still got cum in you” You crooned, slipping your strap on from his hole you heard him whimper, comforting him by placing a steady hand on his thigh, dragging your thumb over his skin in small circles. You knelt before him, lifting up his balls to place a gentle kiss on the sensitive skin.
James’ ragged breathing sounded through the room as he recovered from his orgasm and slowly regained the ability to speak, “W-was I your good boy Mommy?” He managed to stutter out, his eyes flickering open as he spoke. He sounded far off and dreamy like he was high off his orgasms.
“You’re always my good boy baby, you did so well for me like you do every time,” You extolled, sliding one hand up the crimson, silk sheets to find his hand which still had the bedding scrunched up in his fist. Once you’d slowly eased his hand slack you intertwined your fingers with his, keeping that contact as you stood up to peer down at him.
You studied him with a critical eye, examining every inch of him, taking note of the cum beginning to dry on his stomach and cock, the teeth marks from where he’d bitten his plump lips which looked bloody from where you stood, and the sweat covering his entire body from hours of going at it.
“Really?” He asked you, his tone genuine as he looked up at you with wide eyes.
You smiled at him before leaning down over his ruined form, melding your lips with his in a quick kiss, allowing your tongue to trace his bloody lips, “Always baby.”
He winced as you shifted above him and looking down you realized your strap-on was brushing against his ruined cock.
“M’sorry baby, let me take this off yeah?” You started to push yourself off of him but he soon latched onto your wrist, pulling you down on top of him.
“No Mommy, don’t go, want you please,” He murmured against the soft skin of your shoulder.
You allowed your head to fall against your shoulder but you were careful to keep your hips up as to not hurt Jamie but you’d gone just as long as James had and the position was soon becoming too strenuous for your overworked body.
“Gimme a second baby, m’not going anywhere just have to get comfortable too,” You explained, and though he didn’t respond James seemed to understand as he allowed you to stand up and remove the harness from your body, abandoning it on the dresser, making a note to clean it up in the morning.
Glimpsing at James you noticed that his eyes were closed and you took the opportunity to sneak away to the bathroom where you wet a washcloth to clean up James. But as you ran the soft fabric under the warm water coming from the faucet you failed to notice him slip into the bathroom behind you.
In fact, you weren’t even aware of the dark haired man’s presence until his strong arms scooped you off of the floor, his grip on you was surprisingly sturdy given his foggy headspace and that every time he moved he winced as his cock rubbed against his muscled thigh.
“You said you weren’t gonna leave me, Mommy,” He whined into your ear as he carried you back to the bed, you shifted in his hold so that you could run the damp washcloth along his toned shoulders, he visibly unwound under your touch.
“I know baby,” You murmured not wanting to speak too loudly, “But I need to clean you up and I thought you wouldn’t notice.”
His response was unintelligible as he dropped you down on the bed with a little less care he would if he wasn’t so out of it.
“Thought I fucked you dumb baby,” You teased, pulling him to sit down next to you before gently pushing on his shoulders so that he was propped up against the fluffy pillows arranged on the bed.
“That’s not nice Mommy, m’not dumb,” He grumbled, making grabby hands for you to move closer to him to which you obliged, settling in between his legs with yours thrown over his hips, keeping enough distance between the two of you so that you didn’t agitate his used member.
“Aw baby Mommy didn’t mean to upset you,” You grinned at his vulnerable state, pressing a delicate kiss to his nose to distract him as you gently brushed the damp cloth against his member.
Despite your most valiant efforts he still jumped, mewling at the stimulation while trying to squirm away from your touch.
“I know it hurts baby,” You ran a hand up and down his flexed thigh, “Gotta clean you up though.”
“Want your lips, Mommy,” He sniffled, puckering his lips and closing his eyes.
You leaned forward to meet his soft cushions to distract him as you finished cleaning up his prick. You kept the kiss soft as to not push him even further under or to agitate the wounds on the red pillows.
Pulling away you plucked a tube of lip balm from the bedside table, leaning over James’ face to reach it. Seeing an opportunity and taking it James latched his lips onto your nipple, sucking lazily but just hard enough to not let you pull away. When you tried despite his hold on you he threw a strong arm around your waist pulling you flush against him, not reacting when your knee bumped his dick.
“You gotta let go of Mommy’s titty baby, she’s gotta help you, darling.”
His response was muffled by your tit stuffed into his mouth so you pulled back so that you could hear him, “Say that again baby?”
“Want your titty Mommy, wanna make you feel good,” He begged, replacing his mouth with his hand, palming the flesh of your breast.
“You have James, you’ve made me feel so good. But s’not my name anymore baby, not Mommy anymore, it’s (Y/N), yeah?”
Your words seemed to go in one ear and out the other as he just continued groping at your tit, watching it like it held all the answers in the universe. Easing his fingers from your body you sat back in your original position tapping James’ lips to signal to him to pucker them again for you.
“Good boy,” You praised as you ran the lip balm over his lips, smearing the strawberry flavored balm over the cracks.
As you pulled back to recap the tube of lip balm James stuck his tongue out, sliding it over the balm before tucking it back into his mouth, humming approvingly, “I taste like strawberries,” He smiled goofily.
“Yes you do baby but you’re supposed to keep it on your lips so that it’ll help you, pretty boy,” You shook your head as you reapplied the balm to his lips.
“You gotta taste (Y/N/N),” He said eagerly, the fog starting to clear, puckering his lips once again, “Tastes so good!”
“Okay Jamesie,” You giggled, meeting his lips with yours, tasting the strawberry lip balm he seemed so fond of in his fragile state.
“What do you think (Y/N/N)?” He asked you as you used your finger this time to reapply the shimmery balm.
“You’re right baby, tastes very good,” You agreed to appease the boy in front of you.
You began to lift yourself from the mattress but you were tugged back down and into his chest. “No leaving, not again,” His discontent was evident in his voice as he nestled into your hair, inhaling to take in your scent.
“Gotta get us clothes,” You tried to explain, drawing shapes on his pec with your finger.
“Don’t need clothes,” He mumbled, “Wanna feel your skin anyway.”
You pulled your head away to look at his face, though he was talking his eyes were closed, he was beautiful with his hair a messy dark halo around his face and his pretty glossy lips, his lips parted as his breathing began to slow.
“You’ve come back to me baby?” You needed to make sure before you let him fall asleep.
“Uh huh,” You felt his chin bump against your head as he nodded his head, “M’back (Y/N).”
“Okay love,” Unable to stop yourself as you gazed up at his plump lips you ran the pad of your thumb along his bottom one before popping it into your mouth to suck on it, “Strawberries,” You murmured.
“Strawberries,” He agreed, wrapping his arms around you to pull your body as close to his as possible.
“You’re right love, tastes really good,” You snuggled closer to him, gripping one of his well defined biceps as you too felt sleep begin to overwhelm you.
tagging: @randomoutsiders @weasleyposts @amourtentiaa @kittykylax @superbturtlemakerathlete @oliviashea05 @gxtitobxby @thotbutpurple
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pov: you’re broken and he’s fixing you.
↳ akaashi keiji/reader
(this is a spin-off to pov: he’s a player and you’re his favorite game. please click here if you haven’t read.)
description. after a strange encounter led your boyfriend to find out about your tainted past, he develops a mistrust and questions whether you’re still his ideal girl at all.
genre. angst, hurt/comfort, college au
cw. mentions of nudity and videotaping, profanity, slut-shaming (not from akaashi he’s gucci), usage of alcohol/intoxication, reference to drugs
notes. iwaizumi akaashi whores, i come bearing with another gift! this oneshot is set prior to the drabble, enjoyyy!
For the past two months, it was safe to say that Akaashi was in love.
As cheesy as it sounded, he never expected that the feeling of love at first sight was actually real and that you were the living proof of it. There was just something about you that made him feel warm. It wasn’t just because you were physically gorgeous—he also liked how expressive your eyes were or how your smile could brighten his day. He was addicted to the look on your face whenever you were happy and just about contented.
He remembered the day he met you and how he asked you for directions, not knowing that you were crying at 6AM while walking around the campus. He thought you were adorable with just the way you had a pout on your lips when you first looked at him, but he also felt bad that you seemed so broken.
It wasn’t like you discussed your whole history with him—you just told him that the reason you were pathetically crying that day was because someone broke your heart and that you’ve decided to finally let that person go. You didn’t really go into detail about what happened nor did you tell him about the person behind your tears. You simply wanted to ‘move on and forget the guy’ were the words Keiji remembered you said.
So when he gave you an offer for a friendly coffee date, he was glad that you did agree to him. And he was even more glad that, what was once a casual date, now turned into something more tangible. A relationship, if you call it.
Akaashi helped you get through your pain until the love you’ve had for the past guy had now shifted to him. It was sweet, he realized, to have you by his side when he pulled all-nighters at the cafe procrastinating his weekly papers. In return, he would visit you at your dorm with your favorite snacks when you were too busy to meet with him for a date. It was simple give-and-take, but something he sincerely valued. Akaashi didn’t have a lot of experience when it came to dating and he certainly was still testing the waters with you. However, despite that, he was his happiest when he was with you.
You craved for love and affection and Keiji was willing to give you all and more.
He was happy to do simple things like calling you at night when he didn’t get to see you during the day or bringing you breakfast before your morning classes and walk with you to your class.
Today, it was him that had an early morning class and he was already rushing into it.
“Slow down, Keiji,” you told him, squeezing his hand.
He drew in a long breath as you two passed through a group of college students who all seemed to be rushing to their own classes, too. The whole campus just seemed busier than usual.
“Professor Daley’s pretty strict,” he explained, eyes searching through the rows of identical doors to find the lecture hall. Well, other than the strict professor himself, Akaashi also cared about his studies and he didn’t want to miss the important parts of today’s lecture or else he’d have a lot to catch up on again.
You cocked your head at him in curiosity. “What, is he like gonna give you guys shotgun recitations or something?”
“Not really, he’ll just embarrass you in front of the class,” he answered with a grin, stopping outside of the auditorium for his History class. “Hey, I gotta go. See you later?”
“Okay.” You offered a smile before sweetly kissing his cheek. “Catch you later.”
The lecture hall was almost full when he came inside so he had no other choice but to sit at the back along with the other students who barely gave a damn about going to class at all.
Keiji usually didn’t mind them, but the reason why he didn’t like sitting at the far back was because it was always the spot for hungover dudes who obviously went to parties the night prior or the slackers who liked to just borrow some notes and call it a day.
He ended up sitting next to an Asian guy who had a blond undercut and a white guy with bronze hair—both of which were sitting comfortably with one leg propped on the chair in front of them. Akaashi assumed they were jocks, but they could also probably be frat boys.
“Man, I’m never gonna drink Hennessy again,” he heard the blond guy whine to his friend. “I feel like throwing up.”
Yup. Frat boys.
Keiji decided to focus on Professor Daley’s lecture as he took out his iPad, searching through the notes that he wrote from last time. From what he remembered, the last lecture was about Asian-American Assimilation.
“Iwa’s fucking wasted last night,” the brown-haired guy brought up, followed by a cackle from the blond.
“Dude lost his mind. I told him I can just get him a new bitch, but he told me to fuck off. He still wants her so bad, man.”
The two guys shared loud sniggers much to Keiji’s annoyance.
He sent them a look of warning, only to let them know that someone was actually bothered by their unnecessarily loud chattering, but the blond guy strangely recognized him.
“Yo...” The blond guy’s eyes widened as he nudged his friend who gestured towards Akaashi. “You’re the guy that’s dating Y/N, right?”
Firstly, how did he know? And who the hell was this guy, anyway?
“Yeah,” Keiji answered curtly, uninterested with the conversation. “And you are?”
There was a huge grin on the blond guy’s face—it was the kind of grin that particularly looked like he was impressed. “Nice to meet you, bro. The name’s Yuuji Terushima,” the guy greeted, offering a hand out for a fistbump. “And this is my friend, Cole.”
All Akaashi gave them was a brief nod of acknowledgment because it was clearly not the best time to make new friends, however the Yuuji guy was so damn persistent in talking to him throughout the class.
“So, how long have you two been together?” Yuuji asked, seemingly entertained for some reason.
Technically, almost 2 months but jesus, why was this guy so interested with his girlfriend?
“That’s none of your business,” he dryly responded with a nonchalant face.
The Yuuji guy was quick to snort along with the other guy beside him named Cole. They looked like absolute tools and Keiji didn’t want to entertain them further.
“Chill,” Yuuji eased, raising his arms in surrender. “I’m just surprised that you’re dating her despite... you know.”
Akaashi looked at them in confusion. It was obvious that those two guys knew something he didn’t and his mind was telling him to know what it was but his heart was telling him he shouldn’t bother.
The most annoying thing was how these two guys were entertained for a reason he was yet to know about. What was so funny about dating you?
So for now, he let his mind win. “What do you mean?”
With his obliviousness, Yuuji and Cole looked genuinely shocked and amused at the same time. It was starting to piss Keiji off because he was looking like such a fool for not having any clue.
“Dude.” Yuuji leaned forward in intrigue before he spoke in a hushed voice, “She’s like one of the biggest sluts in the campus.”
His first reaction was to ball his hands into a fist, all while grabbing the guy’s collar for referring to you in such a way, but Yuuji was defensive about it.
“No, I’m not messing with you. Dude, see this,” he convinced as if he was the most innocent man in this planet. “Just wait a minute...”
Yuuji took out his phone and went through whatever the hell he was going through. Akaashi was surely about to punch the jackass if only they weren’t in class.
“Here, look.” Yuuji extended his arm and held his phone up, revealing a naked picture of you that you took in front of a mirror. The guy swiped his phone to show more of your nudes from different shots and angles, and there was even a quick video of you doing it with another guy.
What the actual fuck.
“These aren’t mine, by the way,” Yuuji clarified as if that helped at all, “But like, almost all sane guys in the frat house have a copy of these. We’ve all seen your girl, bro.”
Akaashi didn’t know how to react.
He simply stiffened while his chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. He couldn’t believe what he just saw and he had no idea what to feel from it. It was so fucked up how his girlfriend and her body were all over other guys’ phones for their own pleasure. He couldn’t hide the anger that was building inside of him, but he was also disgusted at how he never knew all of this prior to dating you.
Keiji hasn’t even touched you, even a little bit, because he respected you and he believed that you weren’t the type of girl who slept around. He wasn’t the type of guy, either. Heck, he’d only been to a party once and it wasn’t really his scene.
And yet you...
You actually hid this from him. He could understand that you’d feel ashamed, but god fucking dammit, these guys were feasting on your body and calling you names—how could you still walk around without shame?
He was speechless.
“That’s fine, dude.” Yuuji gave him a pat on the back like he needed his consolation. “You know what you should do? You should fuck her like the whore she is and then dip.”
He huffed a breath filled with rage. “I think it’s fucked up that you’re spreading her nudes like a total dick.”
“Dude, not my fault your so-called girlfriend’s a whore,” Yuuji retorted which ultimately led Keiji to grab him by the shirt in fury.
“Mr. Terushima and Mr. Akaashi, what is going on back there?”
He didn’t really want to look away as he sent this blond guy a death stare because, frankly, at the rate of Keiji’s anger, Yuuji would get his face absolutely ruined if he tried to speak ill about you again.
He was going feral.
He couldn’t stomach the thought of his girlfriend, a girl he liked with all his heart, being labeled as the campus slut.
Suddenly, his whole outlook towards you had exponentially changed and he could no longer see you the same way again.
“What time is it?” you inquired to a very hungover Erica who had her head rested on the table while you two spent the past hour at the cafe.
She briefly checked her phone and answered, “It’s half past four in the afternoon, why?”
Nothing important. You were just wondering why Keiji hasn’t contacted you all day. Weird, because he only had two classes today and they were both during the morning. Usually at this time, he would have already been free.
You decided to slip in another text because you already missed him. He was probably really busy right now.
You: Hi, love. I’m here at the cafe with Erica while waiting for you. See me when you’re free :)
“Ugh,” Erica groaned, rubbing her temples. “My head hurts.”
You looked up from your phone after waiting for your boyfriend’s reply but there wasn’t any.
“How was the party last night?” you inquired in an effort to make some conversation.
Erica then propped her elbows on the table and lifted her head up. She just looked extremely hungover and you could easily tell with her smudged mascara. “It was alright,” she answered. “Not as fun without you, though.”
You hadn’t really been to parties as of late and it was the effect of being in a healthy relationship with your boyfriend. It was almost unreal how you managed to find a guy that respected and treated you like a real woman. Although your heart hasn’t fully healed, you were very grateful for Keiji’s efforts of sticking with you through thick and thin, completely putting every piece of you back together.
He was definitely someone worth pursuing, not jerks like Iwaizumi who did nothing but to play with your feelings.
Speaking of, you haven’t seen that guy around because you were purposely avoiding him. You knew which times he would be out and about in the campus so you often stayed at the dorms during those times.
Still, you were curious at how he was doing recently and it wasn’t wrong to ask, right?
“Was Hajime in there?” You cleared your throat, pretending to sound casual.
Erica could see through you though, which was why she sneered. “He’s crazy. I never see him drink that much alcohol.”
You silently wished he had alcohol poisoning but you chose to be the better person. “Sucks to be him.”
“True,” she agreed without hesitation. “Also, don’t you see it? I think Keiji kinda looks like Iwa. Just take off his glasses and turn him into a fuckboy.”
You scrunched your nose. “No, thank you. My Keiji is fine as is.”
As if on cue, you received a text message from the said guy.
Keiji: Can’t come
His reply was short and direct, not his usual sweet long ones. Akaashi was never a dry texter so this was a little odd to see.
You: Are you okay, my love? Do you want me to visit you?
You really hoped he was okay because you were starting to worry.
Keiji: Don’t bother. I’ll just see you tomorrow.
“What’s with the face?” Erica asked after noticing your downcast eyes.
You let out a sigh. “He looks busy right now. I don’t know, I’m worried.”
She watched your expression for a moment before speaking again, “Leave him be. He’s probably got tons of papers to write.”
“I guess he is...”
You didn’t get to see your boyfriend yesterday and even today, just like he said. You texted him this morning if he wanted to go eat lunch together but his only response was “I’m good.”
You could feel that something was wrong and you definitely had to confront him about it.
The coldness in his responses reminded you of the way Iwaizumi treated you before and it was leaving you hurt and paranoid. You didn’t know what you did wrong but you couldn’t just let Akaashi ignore you all day.
You were scared that you’ve given him a reason to walk away from you.
Despite the cold weather, you decided to wait outside the residence hall he was staying at in hopes of talking to him in person. You insisted to him that you weren’t going to leave until he sees you and that it didn’t matter how long you were going to wait if he was claiming to be ‘busy’. He obviously wasn’t, because no matter how busy he was, Keiji Akaashi always made time for you.
That was one of the many things you loved about him. He told you before that every second you spent with him was always valuable and important, which was why he was placing a lot of effort everytime you two spend time together.
“It’s nine in the evening,” you heard his voice as you looked up to see him approaching you with a frown. “Just go back to your dorm. We can talk tomorrow.”
You waited for 2 hours outside, just to see him, and this was what you get.
What was worse was how didn’t return any eye-contact with you.
“Keiji, what’s going on?” you spoke quietly, hurt evident from your tone. “Did I do something wrong?”
He simply lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, never looking at your eyes from behind his glasses. “No, I’m just busy.”
‘Busy’ always seemed to be a guy’s favorite excuse and you hated it. You hated how they think they could easily shrug off anything by saying they were busy even when they weren’t.
“There’s something wrong,” you insisted, holding onto his arm as an attempt to get him to look at you. “Tell me.”
He contemplated it when he finally did look at you, but the way he gazed at your face made it seem like he was almost disgusted. For what reason?
If you were being true to yourself, you knew that there was only one reason, however you refused to consider that it was exactly what you had in mind.
And yet, he did confirm your thoughts when he claimed, “I know what happened before and how you’re...”
You watched him trail off his words, unable to continue because it was visible to the naked eye that he was about to say something hurtful.
“What?” you egged on, feeling a growing ache in your chest. “What am I, Keiji?”
You knew where this conversation was going and you despised every minute that went into it.
His eyes momentarily found yours. “You know what you are.”
The way those words slipped off his mouth made you want to laugh and cry the pain off your heart. It didn’t help that your eyes already pooled of tears and you were trying your hardest not to succumb to your weak feelings.
“Tell me exactly what I am,” you commanded with a broken voice.
Keiji blew out his cheeks and looked at you blankly. “You know it’s fine to sleep around and all, but I just didn’t think you were that type of girl.”
In short, he wanted to call you a whore. He wanted to label you as one, albeit indirectly.
You had no idea how he found out and how much he knew but you were sure that he’d heard enough to make him act reluctant towards you.
You didn’t even have to hide how you were tremendously hurt at the fact that he chose to see you differently instead of clearing it up with you,
“I only slept with one guy.” Tears fell from your eyes. “One guy, Keiji. I did it because I loved him and he took me for granted. He made a complete fool out of me.”
He avoided your gaze in silence as he listened and he was clearly reconsidering his outlook towards you, but he just seemed so detached.
It hurt. It fucking hurt.
“Do you know how painful it is?” you asked, continuing your monologue while you were wrecking inside. “Every time I gave myself to him, it was all just a bet with his friends. Do you know how hurtful it is how I’m being played around like I didn’t have any feelings? I only ever gave myself to that one guy, but he made the whole world think that I’m nothing but a slut. That’s what you wanted to say, right? That I’m a slut and you’re embarrassed to be with me?”
With a slight shake of his head, he remained quiet while standing in a safe distance between you and him.
“Keiji.” You wept, wiping your eyes as you poured your heart out to him. “For the first time in my life, I felt that someone genuinely cared about me as a person and I can’t ever be thankful enough that I met you. You saved me from misery when I thought I was completely irredeemable for having the wrong choices in life. I thought I never would’ve known what being in relationship feels like and, fuck... I know it’s too early to say, but I love you, and I do mean it. My past isn’t something I can change and I most definitely can’t change how people see me, but you, all I care about is you. I don’t want us to change.”
Those words came straight from your heart and it was painful that you had to tell it to him at this specific instance. You were at a completely vulnerable state in front of him and you were hoping that he could at least look at you to see how sincere you were.
But he still refused to see your eyes and give you the comfort you wanted.
“I-I don’t know,” he hesitated. “I’m sorry. I need some space to think about all of this.”
“Don’t do this, please,” you begged, tightening your grip on his arm but he shrugged your hands off him and looked at you apologetically.
Each step back he took was piercing you straight to your soul. “I’m sorry. Let’s talk some time soon.”
And with that, he left you alone with a sore heart and a broken pride, once again reminding you that no guy in this world could ever learn to love you the way you want them to.
Being rejected by Akaashi hurt a hundred times worse than Iwaizumi because with Iwa, you could blame it on his fuckboy personality and say that you deserve better. But with Keiji, someone who was naturally kind and loving, you felt like you lost something so precious.
You spent the past few days crying in your room, refusing to take care of yourself, or attend some of your classes because you just felt broken yet again. Your roommate even became worried about you at one point and offered if she could do anything to help you out.
Her offer was very much appreciated, but there was nothing you could really do unless you travel through time and rewrite your past. It was crazy to think how your actions could greatly affect your future.
You absolutely detested the fact that Hajime could walk around the campus unharmed while you were being viewed as his resident whore for simply giving yourself to him.
Life was unfair, truly.
Now you lost the chance of being with the most perfect guy you’ve ever met, all because you were wronged by this other guy in the past.
“Cheer up.” Erica rubbed your back, walking with you to your next class. “How long has it been since you and Keiji last talked?”
“‘Bout a week,” you whispered with lethargic emotions. “Is this considered a break up? Because I’m gonna lose my mind if it is—”
“I don’t think it is,” she quickly reassured. “Look, maybe he just really needs some time. I mean, he probably was really surprised.”
Who wouldn’t be? Imagine your girlfriend being talked about everywhere you go and they weren’t exactly rumors that sounded pleasing to the ears.
However, you were allowed to miss him, too. You missed him so much that you couldn’t think straight because all you had in mind was the thought of him.
Erica gave you a look of sympathy. “I’m sure he’ll talk to you soon.”
“Hey, hey. Look who’s here.”
You looked up to see Yuuji, Zach, and Cole (aka Iwaizumi’s bastard friends) circling around you and Erica in front of the Arts building. The smiles on their faces made them appear like total douches and you wanted to sucker-punch each of them in their stupid faces.
“Lay off, ugly,” Erica seethed towards Yuuji.
The blond guy, however, was focused on you. “Hey, Iwa wants you back.”
Zach snorted followed by a snide remark from Cole. “Just let him fuck you already. He’s outta his mind.”
You stood in fury as you looked at the three, but it was Erica who decided to defend you.
“Leave her alone, assholes.” Pushing each of them by the chest while they remained unfazed and even more entertained. “She has a boyfriend.”
Strangely, Yuuji let out a cackle after hearing it. “Oh, right. Akaashi, was it? I think he enjoyed seeing your sex tape,” the guy scornfully mocked.
You stood paralyzed with your heart in your mouth.
Was this the reason why Keiji no longer wanted to do anything with you?
You thought he just heard rumors, not actual ‘evidences’ of you doing the act and now you understood why he was acting that way.
Before you knew it, you already threw a hard slap across Yuuji’s face, shaking in anger and frustration. The guy was shocked but he also found it cruelly entertaining. Him and his friends all found your life amusing because you were just a game to them.
“You guys have such loud mouths,” you snarled with your balled fists. “Your dicks aren’t even big enough to satisfy girls!”
You yelled it out of anger that the passerby who heard it seemed to have found it funny.
But you weren’t done yet, you had to say one more thing:
“Tell Iwa he can go fuck himself in hell.”
It was sickening and all the more frustrating how your reputation ruined your chances of being treated fairly.
You were seen as a promiscuous person—someone who would fuck anyone on her way and only cared about going to parties or getting banged by these fuckboys all day and night. You didn’t expect that it would turn out like this because when you first had your casual relationship with Iwaizumi, you two were very lowkey and only hooked up on the low.
Shit spread like wildfire and now everyone has seen you naked and it was probably why no one could ever respect you.
Only Keiji ever did, and now you lost him.
What was the point, really, to still act like you were going to have your desired relationship?
If your image was far tainted to be saved, might as well just stick by it and act exactly what they think of you.
Besides, with Akaashi giving up on you, you no longer believed that there was any other guy that could fix you the way he almost did.
Yes, you were back to square one. You were back to being the girl who spent her Friday nights in frat basements. You were back to the old you that could never be erased no matter how much you tried.
You didn’t even receive a single text or call from Akaashi despite reaching out to him and it gave you the sole realization that it was over. He already ghosted you.
Funny, you painfully laughed as you drank from your red cup while mindlessly dancing to the loud music. Your mind was in that party, but your heart wanted to stay with Keiji.
“You didn’t have to come here, you know.” Erica tried to snatch the red cup from your hand but you were quick to dodge her. “Come on, you’re drunk already.”
You smiled, even with pain in your eyes, at the feeling of being constantly hurt and mistreated.
“So, what...” you slurred, eyes following the dancing lights. You wondered if Keiji missed you at all.
“Y/N,” Erica pleaded, looking absolutely hopeless at trying to stop you from drinking. Since you were playing stubborn, she exhaled in exasperation and left. “I’ll be back, just stay here.”
You didn’t respond. You simply continued swaying your body freely as Right Thurr played on the background.
It was so quick, just as you expected, until you felt someone sneaking their arms around your waist.
However, it was the familiar wood sage and sea salt scent that caught you off guard.
“You’re back,” Iwaizumi breathed on your ear with his hands on your hips, clearly wasted. “I knew you’d always come back.”
You scoffed, turning around to push him away. “Fuck off.”
There was a stupid grin present on his face. “This is where you belong, baby,” he said, pulling you back to his chest. “This is your world.”
You swallowed the bile forming on your throat and refused to believe his words. This was no longer the world you wanted. You wanted to be in Keiji’s arms. You wanted to spend the night sitting next to him at a cafe while he pulled all-nighters to write his articles. You wanted to talk about things that you two liked, his favorite movies, his favorite artists, and everything else.
You wanted to be with him, not here, with the person that ruined your life.
“You’re mine,” Iwaizumi claimed as if he was reminding you of this very fact. “You’ll always be mine.”
“You make me sick,” you scowled at him. “I’m never going back to a bitch boy like you.”
Even from the faint light, you could see that Iwaizumi’s eyes were bloodshot and his pupils were dilated. He wasn’t just drunk, he was high.
Whether it was from weed or some other shit, he was certainly not going to remember this night when he wakes up the next morning.
“Why you playin’ hard to get?” he sneered, biting his lip in amusement. “You’re just gonna end up whoring yourself to me, anyway.”
His words stung and they sure crumpled your heart into pieces, even when he was under the influence of drugs, it was no excuse. Hard to believe that you were once in love with this guy, but now all you wanted to do was to spit on his face.
“Get off me, you fucking dick.” You pushed him off again before slapping his cheek harder than you did with Terushima. “You’re toxic as hell. I don’t ever wanna see your face!”
And before he could even reach for you again, your feet already carried you away from the basement.
You hastily walked away, squeezing through the sweaty bodies that littered the whole damn place, and ended up colliding against a lean figure.
He was looking at you with wide eyes that were full of worry and concern. “Hey, Erica called me and said you were drunk and I got worried—”
It was possibly the alcohol along with your already broken heart that made you tear up at the sight of this man in front of you.
You thought you’d already seen the last of him and that he no longer wanted to do anything with you but here he was, worried sick about you. The fact that he came after you in the middle of the night just to make sure you were okay absolutely crushed your feeble heart.
“Keiji,” you sobbed into his chest, hugging him tight and never letting go.
His breathing was deep but steady. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I hurt you, I wasn’t thinking straight.” When he pulled away, he cupped your face and wiped your tears. “Let’s get you home for now?”
You were still weeping when you came to your dorm that night, not because of the pain, but because you were overwhelmingly happy that Akaashi went back to you.
It was a bit embarrassing for him to see you like this—drunk, brokenhearted, and dressed like a ‘hooker’ as Iwaizumi described it. However, unlike before, Akaashi didn’t seem to be bothered anymore. In fact, he was doing all efforts to take care of your drunken self instead of judging you for it.
“Arms up,” he softly ordered, pulling the tight dress off your body leaving you in your underwear on. Even with the amount of skin he could see from you, he respected you enough not to touch you in places and take advantage while you were drunk. “Wear this.”
He slipped an oversized hoodie over your head that you realized belonged to him. It was cozy to wear and you felt comfortable laying in your bed despite your dizziness from the alcohol. Keiji later sat beside you and rubbed your back to soothe you.
“Feel better?” he asked, moving a hand to caress your cheek.
You nodded, feeling another rush of tears. Yes, you were a fucking crybaby because he was so sweet and you never experienced this from anyone before.
Usually, your Friday nights would end up in bed doing fuck-knows-what with Iwaizumi. The guy barely cared about you other than to fulfill his needs.
But right now, with your caring boyfriend by your side, you realized that this was possible. That your nights could end up being absolutely wholesome even when only the two of you were at your dorm and no one else could interrupt.
This was because Keiji was a real man, not a fuckboy.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized again, holding your hand in his. “I was a jerk to you and I’ll never forgive myself for it. It just got into my head how those guys spoke about you and I let my anger and pride win me over instead of talking things with you. I was stupid, but then I realized it wasn’t your fault,” he paused, meeting your shiny eyes. “You simply fell in love for that guy who didn’t respect you enough but I.... I’m here now. I’ll care for you and treat you like you deserve.”
You rubbed your damp eyes against the back of your hand. “I-I thought you hated me.”
“Never,” he immediately corrected. “I’d never hate on you. I don’t care what the others think—they can all say what they wanna say, but they can’t change my mind because I care about you. I want you happy, I want you smiling—all this because I love you and I can never give up on you over trivial things. You’re worth more than that.”
Your chest tightened, but only because it felt full. This man right here, came to you at your lowest point in life, and he was trying his best to fix you.
“Listen,” he lifted your chin up so you could look at his honest eyes. “From now on, I don’t care about your past or who you’ve been with or what you’ve done. I’ll only care about who you are when you’re with me. Just us. I’ll defend you from anyone and I’ll always see the best in you no matter what the others say. They don’t know you as much as I do. This is something I can promise you as your boyfriend.”
You scooted closer to hug him tight, grateful for the love he was giving you and for the happiness he brought you. They said it was rare to find your true love in college where almost everyone were just casually looking around for hookups.
Well, it was rare indeed, but you were part of the minority who hit jackpot when it came to finding the right guy would treat you the way you deserved.
“I love you, Keiji.” You pulled away and pressed your forehead against his.
“I love you,” he replied before placing his warm lips above yours.
You’ve had prior experiences, probably way more than he did, but this kiss was truly something else. It was your first kiss as a couple and it was sweet, gentle, and full of love.
A few months ago, you would have never thought that Keiji Akaashi would be the remedy to your broken heart, but now you were lucky to be sharing this intimate moment with him.
Your life was no longer just a game, but a book that he’d write on with fond memories and joyful experiences, because it was what you deserved and what he wanted to give.
general taglist: @x-cloudyyyy @iwazubean @elianetsantana @cottonheadedninnymugggins @centvry @kageyamakock @sunnsettee @littlenymphia700 @tsukkisfatsimp @cuddlesslut @mysteriousparker @asdfghjkl7things @oikawashand @02hhsailor @anejuuuuoy @minswags-posts @chemnerdkuroo @misssugarless @deeznutss @tanakax123 @oikawa-bubs @lust4keiji
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behind the lens 
previous - series masterlist - next
chapter summary: Paradis’ hot summers were both a blessing and a curse, just as your experience in the library was
warnings: smut, public sex, fingering,
word count: 5.3k
a/n: Thoughts on who it is?? Feel free to spam my inbox lollll. hope you all enjoy xx
Paradis' summers were unbearably hot. By mid-July, it was impossible to stay out in the sun for more than an hour without getting threatened with heatstroke. Even now in March, the heat was scorching. It was enough for you to skip the jeans and go straight for a sundress and sandals. The change of attire was nice from the hoodies you cowered in all winter.
Another midterm was rounding the corner and you were yet to buckle down and study for it. The dreaded Sunday before needed to be dedicated to going over all the material after your week-long procrastination. It was easy enough to forget about the books, much less when you were focused on finding out who Paradis_Finest was and pass your statistics class.
Thankfully, Armin and Mikasa had the same idea about heading to the library to spend their day studying. Even if it wasn't the most fun activity, at least you could spend time with some of your closest friends.
Your backpack weighed heavy on your shoulders as you approached the school's library. Mikasa and Armin were there since early that morning and you were yet to arrive only after lunch. How they managed to be so dedicated to their studies, you had no idea.
They booked a room for the whole day, no distractions meant they could actually get through everything they needed to. It also made it a hell of a lot easier to find them too. Armin had his nose deep in his textbook while Mikasa was lazily scrolling through her laptop like she was rereading her notes for the tenth time.
Both of them perked up at the sight of you - looks like they were getting pretty bored too. However, it was more likely they were excited about the frosty cold drinks you held. Armin stripped off his jacket and only remained in his t-shirt, Mikasa was much the same as well.
"(Y/N)!" Armin exclaimed as you walked into the secluded room. The library was relatively empty as you wandered through trying to find them. "Finally decided to join us?"
"I know, sorry I'm late," you apologized, "but I figured these would make up for it." You handed them their drinks, taking a sip of your own as well. The cold liquid felt heavenly against your hot skin from the weather outside. At least the building was air-conditioned. "Been busy?"
"Not really," Mikasa admitted. "You look nice."
You and Ymir decided to keep Levi's proposition to yourselves. As much as you loved your friends, they didn't need to know about your additional motivation to find your sex tape creator. Mikasa, the smart one she was, quickly found out the truth anyway. She was your roommate, and she could always see right through you.
"Thanks. I figured since it's hot out I may as well start pulling out the sundresses again, right?" You smiled. Your books were pulled out of your backpack and spread out in front of you. The day was already going by so fast you had no time left to waste chatting with your friends with just some small talk.
In all honesty, it was kind of hard to look Armin in the eyes still. After your night with Eren and everything you heard, you only got flustered when thinking about how he probably heard everything. He never said anything about it, nor did he seem bothered by your hookup with his roommate. There was still the looming feeling he detested you for it though.
Sleeping with Eren was the biggest shift your friend group ever saw. Eren's touchy hands were always something part of your history with them, but now that everyone knew you had sex it just felt off. Was it really worth losing your friend to solve this thing? Would you lose your friends over it?
Jean appeared to be the most frustrated with this whole situation. He never saw eye to eye with Eren before but now it was even worse. Every conversation was snappy and hot-headed. He was the entire reason you believed your choice that night was going to split your friends up. Jean was acting crazy and you had no idea why.
"What midterm do you have?" Armin asked. By the way you were staring at your book, it was clear you weren't even reading the pages and more so deep in your own thoughts. Armin was right to think this. Even just an hour into studying and you were bored out of your mind.
"Bio. The prof sucks but her tests aren't too bad I guess," you shrugged. Armin closed his textbook, looking up at you with those bright blue eyes of his.
"I'm pretty much done for the day do you want some help?" He offered. As much as you didn't want to ask for help from him, Armin was a genius and would be such a great aid to you that denying him would only be foolish. "I mean I haven't taken your class but I did take a few bio classes first year."
"That would great, Armin, thank you. Mikasa is that okay? I don't want to distract you." Mikasa shook her head. Once she was in the zone of studying, nothing could distract her - not even Connie and Sasha's arguing. You envied her concentration, it was an attribute she was always known for.
Armin slid your notes over to himself. He glanced down the pages to get an idea about what you were learning about before deciding how he should help you. He turned his chair to face you straight on, gesturing for you to adjust your seat as well. Before speaking, he cleared his throat and took a sip of the drink you bought him.
"Ready?" You nodded.
Armin listed off questions and definitions for you to answer. He was patient when you couldn't get an answer and kindly offered assistance when you were so close to getting it right. His ability to adapt to a class he never took was incredible, along with asking just the right questions to make you wonder how well you actually knew the material.
He held the cutest little laugh when you were overly proud of getting an answer right. The more questions you went through, the more confident you got. You would have never gotten this far along without his help.
For the first time in a long time, you were genuinely focused on your studies. You were worried about the next party or your constant obsession with Pradis_Finest. Armin held your entire attention and he was determined to put it to good use. Even Mikasa seemed impressed by your intense studying.
Armin's questions gradually began repeating themselves. He went over the ones you barely got the first time and saw improvement the second time around. Within hours, he whipped you into shape for this midterm.
Your feet eventually propped themselves up on his chair, and his on yours. The new slumped position had you both slacking off on the questions and more so just chatting. Mikasa gave up on her own studying and joined you guys. It was nice getting to spend time with them without Eren there.
You didn't feel the pressure of his gaze nor the wandering hands against your skin - not that you minded either of them. However, the change of pace was nice, it was rare to see the duo without Eren. Even if they were all completely different.
Your laughter at Mikasa's joke was suddenly cut off by the door to your study room being pulled open. Jean stood at the entrance with his backpack over his shoulder. You didn't realize he was planning on studying with the three of you - not that it mattered much. However, Jean was the worst person to study with next to Connie. Both of them were incredibly distracting.
"Jean," you smiled up at him. If you thought you were going to get any more studying done earlier you certainly weren't now. Even if his intention was to study with you, he easily got himself distracted. Nonetheless, with Armin's help, you felt great about your midterm. "What are you doing here?"
"Geez, is it really that hard to believe I'm here to study?" Jean joked. He took the spare chair beside you and scooted it close. His chin rested on your shoulder, his arm lazily thrown over the other as he read over the notebook in your hand. You could feel the heat radiating off of him from his time outside. "Bio? Sounds boring."
"It's actually pretty interesting," Armin piped in. He seemed to be enjoying helping you study - not only did he get to learn some stuff himself but it was satisfying to watch your knowledge grow along the way. "What do you have to work on?"
"A paper," Jean sighed, leaning back in his chair. A chill went down you with the loss of heat. Jean was rarely this touchy with you - but you had noticed this entire week he was like this. Hand on your shoulder, sneaking by with his fingers pressing into the small of your back, even a random hug from behind.
"I still need a final source for it and the only place I can find it in this maze of a library," Jean explained. Of course, there was no other reason he would want to be here on a Sunday afternoon. "Then I just happened to run into you guys. Looks like you're ready to tap out for the day."
"We've been here since nine," Mikasa nodded. She looked exhausted, too. "I think I'm going to go to the gym before going home though. Still have a little bit to do here."
"Yeah I'm ready for a nap," your yawn was perfectly timed. Armin pulled his legs off your chair as you stood up to stretch. Jean happened to realize you were wearing a dress since walking into the room, his eyes lit up in the most subtle way. You couldn't deny it was nice having a pair of eyes stuck on you.
"Nap sounds great," Armin admitted. His shoulders were sore from sitting in those chairs for so long. Some tea sounded great too but the hot weather was deterring everyone from such a scorching beverage.
"Want to join me?" You winked at him. Armin's face flushed completely red at your joke. He feverishly shook his head at the idea. You and the others couldn't contain your laughter towards him, only make him more flustered. He stuttered over his words, trying to think of something to save himself but it was only making it worse. "It's okay Armin, I'm only teasing."
"I-I know," his cheeks were still lit up. He hid his face in his hands, hiding his fluster from his friends. Out of everyone, he was the easiest to get worked up like this. You chuckled again. "Stop!" He whined.
"Alright, alright. I guess I can't bug you too much you did just help me all afternoon," you stopped. It was so easy to tease him, Armin got flustered at every little thing. His cheeks would flush pink and he got the sweetest little stutter. "What about you Jean-Boy? Need any help finding your last source?"
"That would be great, actually," Jean grinned. You felt as if there was something else hiding behind his smile. Whatever it was, it made your stomach lurch - and not in a bad way either. Jean always had a kind smile for you, but this was different. He held a look in his eyes that made you wonder what the hell was going on in his head. "I hate finding books in this damn place it's impossible."
"Tch. Last year I spent an hour looking for one. Damn people working here were no help," you agreed with him. It was much easier finding books online than it was in person, yet sometimes you held no other choice. Jean looked just as displeased as you did with the thought of spending an hour for just one source. "Are you guys staying here? We can take our stuff otherwise."
"No it's fine, we can wait until you come back," Armin assured.
You followed Jean out of the room and into the general direction of where his book likely was. As you walked, he listed off the details of what he needed so it was easier for you to find. It sounded like one of the blandest books in the entire section. The two of you scoured the shelves, looking for this stupid book of his.
The library was cleared out even more than when you first arrived. The few people that remained were all hunched over their textbooks and deep in thought or huddled up in one of the rooms you and your friends were in. The silence was eerie and only the ventilation sounded throughout.
All the words on the spines started to blend together the longer you searched. It had to have been nearing twenty minutes since you started looking for it. A loud sigh left your lungs, followed by Jean chuckling at your frustration. You felt your cheeks warm as he looked over at you.
Finally, like the holy grail of books, you found the damned thing. Unfortunately, it happened to be up on the top shelf where your eyes could see and your arms could not. The tips of your fingers could just barely touch the spine of the book, but not enough to get a grip on it and pull it down.
Jean heard your struggle before he saw it. You stood up on your toes, arms stretching as far as they could go. The hem of your dress followed your reach, lifting high enough for the already short material to ride up and just barely show off the curve of your ass. It was enough for Jean to be hooked.
Why does Jaeger get to be the only one with a taste?
Jean stalked over to you. His tall height easily reaching the book he was looking for the whole time. However, as he grabbed it, the hand closest to you rested on the small of your back. The heat of it burned through the material of your dress, just as Eren's touch did to you. The small action made you freeze.
Even worse, as he brought the book down, his hand slid down as well. His palm grazed your ass, fingertips just barely touching your bare thighs. It was quiet enough for him to hear the breath in your throat hitch and you swore he could hear your heart rate too. One touch from him and you were ready to shut down any form of rational thought.
Your eyes darted down to his hands. Long, nimble fingers, veins protruding from his skin in the most elegant way. Jean's hands... you swore those hands were familiar. They reminded you all too much of the ones you watched so expertly get women off in the middle of lecture halls. They reminded you of the ones that belonged to Paradis_Finest.
But Jean? He never showed the signs of arrogance you expected from the one behind the camera. Eren protruded the kind of confidence needed to pull something like this off, just as most of the football boys did like Connie's theory. Jean always held himself high and mighty, but never enough to go around making these sex tapes.
The other day Jean knew exactly what video you were watching from a single screenshot in just a glance. It barely took him a second to recognize what you were watching. No one would pick it up that fast unless they watched it several times over - or they were the ones to make it. Jean didn't seem like the kind of person who would watch porn in public - which he would have had to with the timing of the release.
Was he Paradis_Finest?
Or more so, if he was - did he plan this all along for you to be his next tape? The last tape was in Levi's office, what was to say the next video would be in a place where there were clearly people around? Was he getting riskier, or did this just happen to be a coincidence?
The sweet, delicious prize Professor Ackerman offered up to you made it even easier to want to find out the truth. If it was Jean, this was your only chance, and you couldn't waste it even if it meant you were going to be the next upload people watched on repeat.
Jean hovered at your side, no longer dragging those delicate fingers along your backside but refusing to move away. It seemed he was waiting for you to move or say something, anything to give him a hint of what was going on inside your mind.
"Jean," your voice was barely above a whisper. His tall frame face you straight on, trapping you between himself and the bookcase. The cold metal pressed against your spine, but it wasn't the reason for the chill running down your body. "I-I."
Why the hell were you so nervous? How was this any different than being with Eren? He was just as close a friend. Maybe it was because Jean never held a particular interest in you as Eren did. So why was he now? Because you slept with Eren? Or was it some other reason? You only hoped the reason was that he was the man you were searching for.
"You look so pretty in that sundress," Jean planted his hand on your waist. His thumb glided over the soft material of the dress, just barely catching the underside of your breast in his action. You forced air into your lungs as your nerves continued. "All dolled up just for studying? Hmm?"
"It's hot out," you finally managed to get a proper sentence out. All you could focus on was how his hands burned through your dress. They edged higher and higher until the palm of his hands was nearly right on your chest. Your own hands shook at your sides. In a bold move, you hooked your index fingers into the belt loops on his jeans and pulled him closer towards you. "Is this what you want, Jean?"
He was taken aback by the sudden confidence in your voice. The shaky look in your eyes changed to one of determination in a split second. A playful grin toyed at his lips.
"We're in the middle of the library," Jean reminded. His hands no longer rested on your upper half, instead, he played with the hem of your dress. It didn't take him long to slip them under, palming your thighs while he waited for you to say something. As empty as it was in the building, you still feared watchful eyes - especially those of your friends waiting for you in the study room.
The second he touched your bare skin you didn't care about the people anymore. His touch was like lightning zapping at every nerve in your body. Jean wasn't like Eren, he didn't ooze cockiness but he was just as confident in his capabilities. You were curious to see how his traits would transfer to something like this.
"Gonna have to be quiet then."
"That's too bad," Jean went higher on your legs. He never took his eyes off of you, waiting to see when your strong facade cracked again. He pried your legs apart, just enough for a cool draft to shoot right to your core. Jean's finger grazed over the increasingly wet material. Barely a touch and you had to force back a whimper. "Eren always talks about how pretty your moans are, I really wanted to hear them for myself."
Tch. So he did talk about your night with the rest of the guys. It shouldn't have come as a surprise he always liked to show off. Maybe that was why Armin still couldn't look you quite in the eye - he knew everything Eren hyped up about your night was true. He never every moan, plea, and beg that came past your lips all because he was the unfortunate roommate.
"He's such a bragger," Jean continued. His scorching fingers nipped away at the hem of your underwear. It's nothing compared to the heat you're emitting, the absolute wetness threatening to drip out of you. You can't deny the idea of doing this where people could hear or see only excited you more. "Always talks about how he could pull you, think it's time to prove I can do better than him. Is that what you want? Hmm?"
He waits for you to give him an answer before going any further. It's polite of him, knowing even if you're showing all the signs of wanting this - your mind might say otherwise. The abruptness of it, the location, the timing, all of it was whirling around and screaming at you to say no. But the chance that your connection with his beautiful long fingers and the split-second recognition of that video left you needing to say yes. Your body and mind wanted this.
"Please," you whispered. Jean's whole demeanor changed. No longer the playful tease, but a lust-filled predator with eyes only on you. He wasted no time with you, continuing his journey past your underwear to get to the real prize. Jean hummed with content as his fingers slid between your slick folds.
Without hesitation, he slipped a digit in. You were so welcoming for him, so eager to take whatever of him you could into your warmth. He wanted to take you right then and there with how well you were taking just his fingers. Denying you wanted exactly that too would have been foolish.
"Come on pretty girl, I wanna hear those famous moans of yours," Jean encouraged. We worked at a slow, leisurely pace. His motions were hindered by the restriction of your underwear and it was clear he was growing more and more frustrated with it. Even then, even with barely get a chance with you, you were so close to giving him the noises he wanted.
Your teeth dug into your lip, head tilted back and resting on the metal shelf behind you. Jean took the opportunity to attach his lips to your exposed neck. His lips were soft but his actions were anything but. Sharp nips and bites were left on the tender skin of your neck. Each time he dug his teeth into you, he could feel you tighten around his fingers.
Jean was marking you up like you were his property. You knew damn well why too, he wanted to make sure Eren knew exactly what he did to you. He wanted him to know he wasn't the only one who could make you beg for more. By the rate he was going, he was going to be right there too.
"Jean," you whined. Your fingers were tangled in his thick hair, tugging at the roots as you tried to control yourself. Have to stay quiet. "S-so good."
His lips pressed to yours with a sudden change of pace. Your core missing his touch instantly, enough to finally get one of those desperate whines he wanted to hear. His face lit up with a sinister smile. He latched onto your panties, pulling them down your legs and shoving the flimsy material into his pocket.
He earned himself complete access to you. The flowy dress wouldn't stop his determined hands, not that you wanted him to quit at this point. Again now you were here to find out if he was Paradis_Finest and you found yourself too consumed in pleasure to even care about it anymore. Twice you fell for this trick.
"Come on, Jean, please," you whined. He danced around where you wanted him. This was what he craved, to see you plead for him, and then to watch you cum. This was all he was here for, to get the satisfaction of watching you get off on his fingers and prove he was just as good as his friend.
"Not even afraid to beg in the middle of a library huh?" His voice was low. The thrill of potentially getting caught only got you hornier for him. Having someone hear you, have your lewd sounds engraved in their mind for the rest of the day, god that was all you wanted. You wanted to be what others thought about at night.
"Just - ah, god! Please, just wanna feel good."
"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll make you feel better than anyone could."
Your dress barely covered your lower half. If anyone were to walk by, they would definitely see your sopping cunt. Was this how he felt every time? The excitement? It made it easier to understand why he did what he did.
Jean propped your leg up on the second shelf of the bookcase you leaned on. The elevation made it easier for him to glide his finger back through your folds. He was good at this - so damn good you had trouble holding back your moans. If he wanted to hear you, the opportunity he took was a wasted one. Then again, maybe he thought this was the only one he could get - or if he proved himself he would get another chance.
"Ah! Fuck," you gripped his shirt as if it was the only thing keeping you up. The squelching noises Jean was pulling out of you were filthy. The sounds were nearly as satisfying as your voice to him, this was how wet he could get you without his cock. There was no better satisfaction. It took everything for you to be silent.
"Nah-ah, not allowed to go hiding on me now," Jean chastised as you bit your lip to hold back sounds. He curled his fingers within you, hitting a spot he was yet to find until now and making you mewl with utter pleasure. To make matters even more difficult, the base of his palm ground into your clit, igniting a second wave of pleasure over you. A shameless moan emitted, one that was certainly loud enough for people to hear. "That's it, sweetheart."
When you threatened to let out another, Jean pressed his lips to yours. As much as he wanted to hear every one of your sounds, too many and you'd get caught. It wasn't a risk he was willing to take - not when he still hasn't gotten to see how pretty you look when you cum. Not to mention he was trying to hold back a moan himself - the way you clenched around his fingers, the feeling went straight to his cock.
"Jean! fuck, please, please I'm so close," you cried out into the crook of his neck. Everything about you he was completely entranced by, your warmth, your walls, the quiet whimpers you tried to hold back, all of it. He could understand why Eren was bragging, you were incredible and he barely even got a taste.
"Are you sweet girl?" Jean sped up his motions. He adored the struggle you were going through to keep silent in the library. You were yet to catch the attention of watchful eyes, though, in all honesty, he wouldn't even mind having someone watch as he got you off. Watchful eyes were something he not only hoped for but encouraged. "Feel so good on my fingers, wonder how nice this pussy would feel around my cock."
Your nails dug into his biceps, leaving little crescents in his skin that came close to breaking the skin. Sweat beaded along your forehead both from the heat and the pleasure Jean was so effortlessly giving you. Every thrust of his fingers edged you closer to your release, every curl bringing out a breathless whine just for him.
He did the same combination as previously, the tips of his fingers curling up to hit your most vulnerable spot and the heel of his palm digging so preciously into your sweet bundle of nerves. The action alone was enough to bring you right to the edge, and his words of praise and encouragement were enough to push you right off.
"That's it doll, fuck you're so perfect. Wanna feel you cum, wanna make you feel good," Jean whispered to you. You fell into his shoulder as he brought you to your peak. Waves of pure pleasure filled your body. You wanted to give him the loud, shameless moans he deserved, but couldn't bring yourself to let it out in public like this.
Instead, your teeth sank into his shoulder, pathetically muffling your loud moan. The vibrations rumbled through his body as he continued to ride out your high. This was what he wanted, to see you fall apart just for him - and fuck were you incredible while doing it. He was encased in you, understanding now why Eren was so eager to brag.
A line of drool went from your lips to the place you were biting his shoulder as you pulled away. Your face was flushed, eyes still lidded with linger amounts of your high running through you. The pad of Jean's thumb delicately worked against your clit, fingers still deep inside you but unmoving. Even the small jolt of pleasure had you whimpering again.
"You're really not as innocent as you look, (Y/N)," Jean smirked down at you. He pulled his hand away from your sensitive cunt, admiring how your juices ran down the back of his hand. Your eyes stayed on his as he brought them up to his lips and pushed his digits past them. "So sweet."
"There you guys are!" You swore your heart nearly jumped out of your chest at the sound of Armin's voice. He looked between you and Jean with curious eyes, though said nothing about why you were so close or why both of you were entirely flushed. Had he come even two minutes earlier he would have seen exactly what you were going. "Uh, you were taking a long time, Mikasa and I are headed out."
"Thanks, Armin," Jean became perfectly composed in seconds. He acted as if nothing just happened and this whole time you really were searching for his source. That kind of composure only came with practice - something Paradis_Finest would have lots of. "Took us forever to find this stupid book."
Armin glanced down to your neck that was likely littered with marks. Even if Jean made himself believable, the evidence was there. Nonetheless, he didn't question what you were up to - he'd already heard enough from Eren, the last thing he wanted was to hear more from Jean. The two would be in an all-out war for who did the best.
With a single nod, he left the two of you alone, a light pink color on his cheeks as he did so. There wasn't enough time for anything else, Armin already solved your lie and likely was on his way to tell Mikasa before they left the library. Jean's pleasure was one-sided, though it didn't seem like he minded at all.
If Jean was Paradis_Finest, you'd know in less than a week's time with a new video being uploaded. All you had to do, was wait. Or, if you were lucky enough, Jean would come crawling back for a second chance before any video was uploaded.
"Do I get my underwear back?"
"Not a chance."
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Word of Honor/Shan He Ling Fic Recs
I’ve been procrastinating on making this post because while I’ve read a good number of WOH fics, many of them are short and were written during the run of the show. I keep feeling like I need to read MORE fic before I can pick the really best ones and that’s an impossible task, so whatever, here are some fics I like.
Wenzhou unless otherwise noted. Roughly listed in order of where they take place in the canon timeline.
with morning come by Shaderas (E, 2K) PWP of a morning after Wenzhou’s first time. After a drunken, rough night of sex, the morning brings a very gentle and loving second round. I love ZZS almost overwhelmed by the sincerity and gentleness of this.
warmth by triedunture (E, 4K) Set during ep 16, when they are spending a night in the cave. On the surface it’s a PWP, but there are so many emotions being processed that it’s heart-rending. Grief and crying and love and tenderness. Both very gentle and very prickly, because it’s Them. Just perfectly in character and capturing the mid-drama Wenzhou mood.
with your heart beating and your eyes shining by thatbug (E, 4K) WKX starts a game of questions late one night over wine, and they discuss past relationships and sex. ZZS is basically inexperienced/bad at sex and they discuss what they like and what they might like together. It’s a really lovely fic about talking about sex and then exploring new things together. (Or new to ZZS.)
On the Moor, the Creeping Grass by etymologyplayground (T, 6K) One of my favorite authors bringing their brilliance to SHL? Yes, please. This is set during the ep 24-esque period in Four Seasons Manor, featuring ZZS getting injured and WKX helping him with his wound. A lot of teasing and bantering, some soft cuddly sleeping together, lots of quoting of poetry, longing, wistful storytelling, and a little biting. It’s utterly gorgeous with such a quietly aching tone, while being so very soft.
One Step Forward, Three Steps Back by hollybennett123 (E, 14K, ZZS/WKX/Han Ying) Wen Kexing sees how Han Ying and Zhou Zishu look at each other and arranges for some fun with the three of them. Lots of dirty talk and fun d/s play, as well as interesting character study of the three of them and how they relate to one another. But mostly it’s very, very kinky and slutty.
passers-by, late in spring by @pumpkinpaix (E, 3K) - This is one of my very favorite SHL fics, and I’m only slightly biased in saying so by the fact that it’s both very much to my taste and the author is a friend. It’s smut, PWP really, post-nonspecific-canon (book influenced) and d/s. It’s got a dominant (bottom) ZZS and submissive (top) WKX and honestly I think has influence more than a few smut writers in this fandom, including myself.
silver lining, strike me down by brosnyaa (E, 6K) This is actually novel canon mostly rather than drama canon, but it’s great fun. WKX and ZZS make a series of bets (5+1 to be exact) involving kisses and...other activities. Lots of fun banter and teasing, leading up to genuine connection and sweetness.
fanged teeth hiding behind gentle eyes by ShootMeDead (T, 4K) A story about the relationship between WKX and the women of the ghost valley, specifically the unimportant servant women. This is something I really wanted to see explored in fic, so this hit the spot. Ties in to a generic happy ending for Wenzhou as well.
lonely dream by @minmoyu (G, 4K) A post ep 36 fix-it, a really lovely story that is soft and romantic and gives us a very happy ending, but doesn’t ignore the very real pain and trauma that ZZS goes through.
silent and immutable as snow by elrohir - (E, 3K) Set after episode 36, this is a fixit of sorts, a primal scream of a fic. Raw and emotional, ZZS dealing with grief and then anger when WKX comes back to life. A fic for wallowing in the angst of the drama ending. (I also recommend the author’s other SHL fics. It was tough to pic one so read those too! They are lighter!)
time enough series by scheherazade (3 fics, E & T, 4K-9K) The first fic deals with ZZS saving WKX post ep 36 through dual cultivation. The second has Ye Baiyi visiting immortal Wenzhou on the mountain, and the third deals with Gu Xiang and Cao Weining’s rebirth and discovery by Wenzhou. There are some really lovely moments throughout.
run (back to you) by synonemous (M, 11K) A modern AU in which WKX and ZZS are both CEOs and ZZS leaves his company and goes into hiding to avoid his former boss, but WKX comes stalking him. ZZS is delightfully grumpy throughout, but WKX is willing to be patient (some heavy stalking notwithstanding) and they end up gradually fitting together. A very soft modern story despite the specifics of the plot.
Ill Omens series by manic_intent - (2 fic, E, 4-5K) Zhou Zishu is a hulijing. WKX is fascinated, naturally. And Ye Baiyi takes exception to him feeding on a mortal, no matter how much WKX protests it’s consensual. I just really love the worldbuilding/use of folklore here.
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DATE: MAY 17, 2021
Summary: Harry’s been going to the studio every day since his break from tour. It’s left you feeling cold without his warmth and you can’t help but assume it’s because of you.
Note: inspired by Half The World Away- One Direction
Prompt 77: “There’s nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you.”
Warnings: angst, fluff, mild dialogue toward the end, SMALL mentions of anxiety
famous!Harry, any dates included are NOT real and the gif is NOT mine.
The cold weather is brutal when there’s no heat. An A/C, a blanket, hot chocolate— whatever gives warmth. Warmth was comforting and it made you feel safe. Protected. Happy. You hated the winter, especially when you were alone. Your source of heat was gone and away, and you felt like it was because of you. Your warmth was at the studio 24/7 writing music because he’s a world-wide rock star. Your warmth was missing, and it left you icier than ever.
You would try to reassure yourself every day that it wasn’t your fault Harry was gone so long. He would leave unnecessarily early in the morning just to sit in a room full of speakers and microphones just writing. You’ve been there a hand-full of times. He would get back when the moon was high in the sky, and by then your head was already in the clouds. He’d lie in bed beside you, but over the few months, he stopped tucking his arm on your side. This made you worried that you had done something wrong, but even worse, it made your heart crack a little more every day.
Your warmth was dwindling away.
You rarely had ongoing conversations; it’s like co-workers in different departments who saw each other once in a while. You attempted to make him breakfast on the days you didn’t go in or have work. He would take a bite and scurry off, or tell you he’s in too much of a rush. He didn’t even kiss you goodbye anymore.
Especially when you’re alone, you get in your own head. Now, you’re really intuitive, so you never thought he was cheating or doing something that would hurt you, intentionally at least. He just felt so far away, even if he was only half-an-hour away most of the time.
This Friday morning was no different from the past few months; he used to make coffee, but apparently he picks up something on the way now. You didn’t even bother getting up early anymore to make him anything. You were struggling to get out of bed due to lack of motivation yourself. You were living on low self-esteem and a green box of crackers.
The bed was the place you could be warmest without him, you assumed. The white duvet was hugging your body snuggly, like your boyfriend would when he would cuddle you. The friction of heat began to tingle up your arms and legs, giving you that relaxing feeling. You suddenly had the urge to go to the restroom and you mentally cursed at yourself.
When you peeled the blanket off of you, the wood flooring was slick and cold as if it was ice. You swear you hated living in London, and one day you two were moving to LA where the sun was shining throughout every season, and you could go to a beach. That is, if there would still be two of you.
It was getting evening and you felt exhausted, more mentally speaking. Your mind was running on a high all day while your body stayed lazy in bed. You were trying not to go into a deep hole of anxiety today because you felt stupid about the whole situation. Did he even know he was doing this? Maybe he’s just so distracted with his work he hasn’t noticed anything. But you can never convince yourself to leave it at just that.
You wanted to get up and make him dinner, but you couldn’t because you kept stopping yourself. You hoped when he got home he would walk in and smell the delicious food on the stove, come over to you, and kiss you because he loved you. But that hasn’t happened in months. You guys have barely kissed in a week, let alone a month or two.
And sex? Yeah, right. You might as well be a virgin again.
Every somewhat positive thing that would enter your mind would be countered by a negative thought, and it was making you go crazy. You kept thinking back to how happy you both were when he was on tour; all the places you guys got to visit together and all the people you got to meet. The month after was like a honeymoon with the peaceful chirping of birds and the glazing sun that made your skin glow.
But it also made you so upset because you compared it to how everything is now, and how you didn’t know if you would ever feel like that again with him. Yet, you don’t think you could feel like that with anyone ever besides him.
Your mind was in a constant loop of doubt as you tried to wash it away with some music. Over these few months, you had made a playlist called ‘Misery Music’ for when you were, well, miserable.
The music was getting to you as silent tears slipped down your face. This wasn’t a breakdown necessarily, it didn’t feel like something you couldn’t control. You just needed to cry, quietly. Your face was still with a frown as you cried, curled up with the duvet to your neck. The air was frosty and nippy especially with the water glazing your cheeks. Your eyes rested closed and you hoped to fall asleep before he got here, so you didn’t have to welcome him back just to say goodbye again.
Harry was about to crash. No, not his car, but his body. Somewhere in the back of his stubborn mind, he knew he was overworking himself. He didn’t need to be in the studio for this long, for this many days. He was forcing words onto paper and harmonies into microphones just to be disappointed by the end of a session.
A part of him wanted to go home and relax, and just talk to his girlfriend. He misses you. He knows that he’s been short with you, but he’s stressed out and he wants to get at least half of this album done. Harry knows that if he doesn’t, he will feel like a procrastinator and he’ll never fully unwind.
Harry is not a procrastinator.
“Mate, I think ya should go,” Mitch mumbles tiredly with a hand curled onto Harry’s shoulder.
“I’ve got to get a verse and then—”
“Harry,” Sarah says sternly and quietly. Everyone was relatively quiet, even though they had no reason to be. They were probably the only group in the studio right now. Really, everyone was exhausted, but Harry was too blindly overworked to notice. “go home. Y/N misses you. Spend time with her. She needs you.”
Maybe a short pep-talk was what Harry needed to go home tonight because that’s just what happened. Yes, he bantered for a minute, but it’s Sarah, no one will out-argue her. He yanked the keys out of his ignition when he arrived back to his place. Fatigue was the demon on his shoulder telling him to go to sleep. He was going to listen.
Jumbling with keys, he steps into the house and it’s dull, empty, silent, and untouched. He felt as though it was being drained of its imaginary color it once had, and he feels like it’s his fault. No, it is his fault.
He tugs his phone from his pocket to see that it’s late evening now. This is around the time he usually comes home, if not later. He discards his shoes and trudges himself up the wood stairs, feeling his own weight with every step.
He noticed how cold it felt in here. It was like an icebox, the atmosphere was thin and raw with invisible frost. As he passes the A/C in the hallway, he sees it’s at 68° and switches it faster than he could blink. There’s something that fills the silence as he gets closer to their bedroom. He can hear the dulcet singing through the door and assumed you had gone to sleep. He sighed to himself because he wanted to talk to you for a moment, actually kiss you for the first time in a while. He was suffering with the knowledge of his actions, but you were suffering with none. Curiosity was a real serial killer.
Harry creaked the plain, white door open, twisting the knob fully to make no noise. However, it didn’t even matter because you were sitting with your head lying against the headboard with tears rolling down your cheeks. You didn’t look like you were asleep.
“Love? What’s wrong?” Harry shut the door behind him as he strode to the opposite side of the bed. You peeled your wet eyelids open and regretted it. He had this look of concern growing on his face; you could see it in his eyebrows how they knitted together and how his lip was a chew toy for his teeth.
“Nothing,” You croaked out from your much-needed cry. You wanted to cry again because he was here and was actually talking to you. It was overwhelming. “I’m fine.”
“Bullshit,” Harry squinted in disbelief, glaring at you in full seriousness. He was never one to take your excuses because he knew that they always disguised something deeper. “Talk to me, please.”
You began to pick on the insides of your mouth with your teeth because you didn’t want to argue. You two didn’t argue a lot, and it was never that bad either. You were just terrible with confrontation and didn’t know how to express your emotions and thoughts all the way. Your concern for the other person’s feelings always terminated you.
That choked-up feeling was wrapping around the insides of your throat and you just wanted to throw it up. You didn’t want to break down, it wasn’t a big deal, you had to remind yourself. You always called yourself dramatic for feeling any type of emotion, and Harry hated it.
“I can’t read y’mind.”
“I wish you could,” You squeaked through the duvet, bunching it up toward your face to cover the puffiness. He gently tugs the blanket down, revealing your beauty to him. He never once thought for a moment that you weren’t drop-dead gorgeous, you kill him every time he stares at you. You never hated yourself for how you looked, you just paid no mind to it. You were worrying about other things.
Your physique was always a dreading conclusion in your mind.
Sliding the pads of his thumb across your cheeks, he stares into your eyes. He’s trying to pry an answer out of you, and it’s working. You had to tell him sometime.
“Do you love me?” Was not the thing you planned on saying, but you did say it. You didn’t think that’s how this was going to start, but it has to start somewhere.
“Of course I do,” Harry mumbled through his lips, which were practically closed. Harry felt horrible. He wanted to dig himself into a hole six feet down and lay wide awake until he died. The second you finally spoke, it had to be the most heartbreaking words he’s ever heard. Of course he still loved you! He bloody hated that you thought he didn’t anymore, or maybe at all. He knows you’re strong minded, so it wasn’t just an anxious thought. He knows you would have a reason for why you’re feeling like this. And he knows just why.
It’s his own lack of love. He hasn’t been giving any, to anyone for that matter. His love was everyone’s source of warmth, he threw it around like a flower girl at a wedding. Hence, why London’s felt pretty cold these past few months without it.
“I-I get why you’re gone all the time, but can’t you take a break? You just got off of a year-long tour!” You expressed, constrained against your own will to not cry right now. Harry can feel the beat of his heart slowing down, he knows he’s losing the feeling of it because of overwhelming sadness.
“I would think that you’re tired, but you just keep going. Every. Day. I don’t want to think this, but... is it me?” You screwed your eyes closed tightly, covering for his reaction. You didn’t want to see the look on his face if he was about to break your heart. You much rather not hear it either, but it’s got to happen some way.
“God, no, Y/N,” He gasped at you, gripping your hands roughly, yet lovingly in his. Your trembly lip went in between your teeth, tugging faintly to make it stop. “it’s never you. S’never been your fault.”
Your waterline was marked in tears and his were beginning to, as well. Your cheeks were as puffy as marshmallows and your fingers were like icicles in his hands full of warmth.
“I overwork m’self. I was tiring everyone out without even knowin’. I’m so so sorry I ever made y’doubt my love for you, angel.”
He smiles at you endearingly and sadly. He meant what he said. You smile at him wearily, as wasteful tears slip down your face for, hopefully, the last time tonight.
“There’s nothing you could ever do to make me stop loving you.”
You chuckle weakly, wiping your tears that came along with that statement. You weren’t done crying, you guessed. He leans forward on the mattress and holds you in his arms. His body encompasses you in heat a blanket could never do. You wrap your arms around his neck, you nose against his shoulder.
“No more studio for a while. Just me and you. Can do whatever you want,” His arms are still tucked around you as he pulls away to look at you. Your eyes were glossy from the water glazing them, your hair was down and wild, you probably needed a tissue, but you looked just as beautiful as ever to him.
“Can we just sleep?” You yawned, blinking away the tiny stars that lined your vision.
Harry flickers the light off from his bedside table, darkening the bedroom. He was forgetting his night routine, and so were you because you both knew you needed this time together. He continues to slug his arm over your waist, gently dragging you closer to him. His cheek was tenderly placed on your shoulder as his eyes began to shutter shut.
You had both felt as though your hearts were beating together again, and you couldn’t even feel him in this position. You were getting warmer; you loved his radiance almost as much as you loved him.
“Please never stop cuddling me.”
The curtains had been open since yesterday, so the bright rays of the sun were directly on Harry’s back. He was satisfied with the fever burning the top few layers of his skin because he was holding you. You were snuggled against him, while his arms wrapped around you in an infinite hug. He couldn’t possibly pull you closer, but that didn’t stop him from attempting to anyway.
From your backside, he swept away the hairs that were covering your swollen, sleepy face. He admired your every feature, admitting to himself that you were flawless inside and out. He didn’t believe anyone was perfect because perfect was impossibly unachievable. Like every other person on the planet, you had your knacks and your peeves and little things you did that got on his nerves— but it was never a deal-breaker for him. Harry could never imagine a world where he walked away from an opportunity like you.
This was what Harry did; he was an early morning thinker and a late night talker. He thought about how there were such cold places in the world, like London, that were just too cold for him. He thought about how he’s traveled to many cities and states that are so scorching, he swears they were touched by the sun itself. Nothing was ever perfect temperature to him because perfect temperature was impossibly unachievable. He was always changing his preferences, so he knows other people must have been, too.
But he realized when lying beside you that you were perfect. You might not be the universe’s definition of perfect, but you were the epitome of his perfect. You were everything he wanted, needed, and more. Even though he could not stand your snoring as your face was pressed messily against the pillow, he wouldn’t trade it for anything.
You will always be his warmth in cold cities.
You will always be his perfect temperature.
You will always be his perfect.
You will always be his.
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WITH LOVE, THE GHOSTS | Julie and the Phantoms - Part One
not my gif!
Author’s Note: Gah… I'm such a procrastinating butterfly. I should be writing my Billy Russo series which I'm so excited about, but I just want to be able to read it already instead of having to write first + I'm currently writing each and every chapter instead of the next one (struggles of a fanfiction writer - am I right?).
So, what do I do instead? I flew from one of my obsessions to another and got inspired by this week's @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt.
Anyways... This fic will be a little to late for some of you guys, but still: Merry Christmas everyone! And if you do not celebrate Christmas I still hope you have a wonderful day and a rest of the year filled with love and happiness. You did it, you fought through it. I’m sure you had your own pair of himbo ghosts taking care of you.
word count: ~ 1k
summary (and basically background info): Y/N is Julie's & Flynn's friend who doesn’t know about the ghosts (let’s just say she believes that they’re holograms). The boys become attached to Y/N due to her kindness and positivity and do everything in their (ghostly) powers to keep her days sunny and bright, especially in winter.
Or: Two times Y/N is oblivious to the boys 'paranormal' activities and the one time she notices it
prompt: Comfort in the Cold by @flashfictionfridayofficial
warnings: english is not my first language, therefore, typos
| Part Two | Part Three |
Slowly and quietly you made your way down the stairs of the Molina household, leaving Julie's and Flynn's sleeping forms behind. Even though you had just watched multiple Christmas movies and probably eaten double your weight in popcorn, your stomach was still asking for more. As Julie knew about your habits of needing a midnight snack and since Ray repeatedly told you to make yourself at home you weren't feeling bad about stealing some small bits and pieces out of their fridge or cupboards.
Which is why you were straining your ears to hear any sounds that might indicate that you had woken up either Carlos or Ray, but you were only met with silence. Releasing the breath you were holding you hastily hopped down the last few steps down to the living room, grabbed the stair railing and used the momentum of your movement to swiftly swing yourself in the direction of the kitchen, freezing at the sight that greeted you.
A quick glance at the clock told you it was 2 a.m. and the continuous silence indicated that nobody except you was awake and around. Yet, as you hesitantly took a view steps towards the kitchen counter, pulling your blanket like a shield tighter around your body, there was a perfectly fine peanut-butter/jelly sandwich waiting for you, a smiley made out of Nutella painted onto it. Your favourite midnight snack.
A small note peaked out from under the plate and it took you some time to decipher the chicken scratch. Can't have our favourite groupie going to bed hungry!
Smiling and shaking your head, thinking that either Julie or Flynn must have sneaked out of the room sometime earlier to make you this sandwich you happily bit into it.
If you'd known that there was a brown-haired ghost with hazel eyes sitting opposite to you and watching you with a smile, the sandwich would have probably gotten stuck in your throat.
Doing multiple Christmas movie marathons would be fun they said. No need to worry they said. Only Christmas cheer and joy they said. Well… long story short, even fun movies can make you bawl like a baby!
A few days after the midnight snack incident, which you completely forgot about, you were once again sitting on Julie's bed. With her and Flynn to your left and right, you had been watching different movies on her computer. Currently, however, you were only trying. Tears were blurring your vision and your sniffles were the only sounds reaching your ear.
Pressing the plushy's soul that Flynn had won you at a fair out of its body and sobbing into it, you felt Julie shift beside you and lay her head in your lap and mumbling something while Flynn was searching for a handkerchief.
"Whose idea was it again to watch this movie?" you tried to ask, but your voice came out all thick and full of emotion, so you weren't sure if they understood or heard you at all.
What you didn't know was that the boys were watching the movie, and now mostly you, with big eyes.
"Remember the day when Julie was crying in the garage and then Flynn came in crying too? Remember how I said that two girls crying are worse than one girl crying? This… this is way worse!" Luke pointed exaggeratedly at every single one of you and moved quickly out of Flynn's way when she left the room to get a box of tissues.
"Dude… they're not actually crying crying. It's just a really sad movie," Alex said and sighed quietly when he heard Reggie whisper, "Do you think that's what Willie meant when he said Caleb floods the place during movie night?"
"That's... no, okay." Shaking his head Alex moved towards the bed and sat carefully at Flynn's place to not alert you of the shift beside you. Then he gently took a paw of the plushy that you weren't currently pressing into an embrace and lifted it to wipe away your tears and free your sight.
You sniffled, too confused and full of emotion to realize what just happened and that it couldn't possibly have been Julie or Flynn, and whispered a small, "Thank you".
Alex smiled, proud of his action.
You didn't even bother to take off your shoes or wipe away the residual snow still sticking to your hair as you flopped yourself down onto your bed, groaning into your pillow. Everything was already grey, wet or at least soggy anyway. To say your day had been bad was an understatement.
It's the most wonderful time of the year
With the kids jingle belling
And everyone telling you be of good cheer
It's the most wonderful time of the year
Confused you lifted your head and starred at your computer who apparently decided to become sentient and cheer you up.
It's the hap-happiest season of all
With those holiday greetings and gay happy meetings
When friends come to call
It's the hap-happiest season of all
The next thing that happened would forever be burned into your brain. Your favourite pen suddenly lifted itself up into the air and started to scribble down onto a nearby paper. Slowly and unsure you stood up and inched closer to your desk, but as soon as you were able to sneak a peak onto the paper the pen stopped and fell down.
Shaking your head you rubbed your eyes and turned back to your bed. "This is the weirdest lucid dream I ever had." The moment you flopped back down onto your bed you heard the familiar scratching of pen on paper again. Turning your head there it was again - the floating pen. "What?"
However, once again, as soon as you reached the desk the pen fell down, lifeless. “Alright... alright. I understand! Don’t worry, I won’t sneak a peak.”
"I am dreaming... right?" You weren't. Pinching yourself hurt, trying to breathe through a closed nose didn't work and your pointer finger would not move through the palm of your hand.
Shakily, yet weirdly motivated by the happy Christmas music still playing in the background, you picked up the note laying beside the now still pen. "Merry Christmas Y/N! Lots of love from Reggie, Alex and… Who?"
"It told you, Luke… I should just have signed for us all."
"Shut it Reg, I know my handwriting sucks."
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Executive Dysfunction & ADHD study tips! 😙 🌷 😘
I’ve collected study tips from myself and others who struggle with studying. Here’s a masterlist of strategies people use to help :) For those curious, #3 is my personal favourite and is probably the main reason I didn’t flunk all of my classes this year. Feel free to add your own!
Sleep, eat, exercise. The basics. Treating my body right helps me keep a routine and makes me less prone to impulsivity. This makes it a little easier for me to do the things I need to do and fight back my executive dysfunction.
Play idle games while working. Anonymous says “I get bored very, very quickly and need constant stimulation, so every time I have to wait for something, I will immediately divert my attention. Having an idle game running helps me not to lose too much focus, so I get more work done as a result.”
Use a tutor. Since I can’t follow self-imposed deadlines, I create external deadlines by booking tutoring appointments. This forces me to make sure I have at least a basic understanding of the material before the session so I know what to go over. Most schools have free peer tutors available, so take advantage (if your school doesn’t, try a study group)! This is a great way to create deadlines you can follow, and it always helps to study with someone who can answer your questions and keep you on task.
Play music. @luminarily says “Sometimes I sit in silence and I get bored of it or I get a song stuck in my head or something. But I have forcibly linked music playlist and actually doing something I need to do so that when I put on music I am automatically forced to do the work I was supposed to do. So it makes the work and the listening more enjoyable both and it’s easier to stay on task… I use unpaid youtube on my phone so I can’t leave the tab or else I can’t listen to music anymore so I can’t go on my phone. And also youtube mobile lets you set watch time timers, so when my music stops I take a break and don’t burn out!”.
Play ambient noise. Similar to #4. I am not stimulated enough when taking notes, reading textbooks, etc., but listening to music can be too much and makes me stressed. I like to play ambient noise (my personal nerdy fave is Slytherin dormitory ambience on Youtube lol). It’s enough to stimulate my brain, but not overpowering to where I get distracted or stressed.
Block out time to do work. @tidal-rose says “I find it easy to do stuff by saying ‘I’ll do it tomorrow.’ But I don’t mean the procrastinate-y ‘I’ll do it tomorrow,’ I mean plan to do it tomorrow. Set aside a block of time when you are going to do nothing but the task. …I just realized this sounds like such a neurotypical answer oh gosh. It really does work to hack my executive disfunction”
Have a plan. If I don’t have a straightforward + actionable plan for right when I wake up, I will just do literally nothing all day. I have to know what I’m going to be doing when I wake up, like “shower, be at the library by 10am, and do practise problems there”. If I only have a vague plan like “study chemistry tomorrow” it’s a lot harder for me to do anything.
Start small. It often feels impossible to do even the bare minimum. When I can’t even get myself to write a single sentence of my paper, I try to do even less than that. Literally just open up a Word document. Even just opening up a blank page is a fantastic start, and starting is the hardest part.
Change locations. The longer I sit in one space putting off an assignment and stewing there in my anxiety about it, the harder it is to start. So I move. Even if I just go from my desk to the floor. Sometimes this can change my headspace enough to make it easier to do what I need to.
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5 tips to boost 5 days of Productivity
We all love to procrastinate and most of us (including myself) have made sport out of this, but is this how we really should be approaching things?
The answer is NO.... apparently
So join me in my self evaluation of bringing you 5 tips how I avoided procrastination by being a bit lazy.
Being productive for a whole week when you have too much on your plate but you spend your entire weekend scrolling through social media... well me too :)
Though Mondays suck, its a brand NEW week so we can't let Mondays win and ruin out entire week right?
Tip 1 - Preparation before the week start
- Make a to do list - For the next day or the week
A short list of your most prioritised tasks e.g. starting that essay you been avoiding, even if it just picking the ttile
Make sure to not put too much pressure on these tasks
Keep it simple
DO NOT put too many things, be realistic only add things you know you can achieve
Little ramble on how this helped me :)
We all have those sleepless nights, especially when you have a 9am lecture/class the next day. Somehow you end up going to sleep at 4am still make it to your lecture on time, though the rush might be exciting this is not the way to start the week because your mind will get used to this so much and this becomes your normal routine.
Not going to lie, I am super guilty of this but I found out this not only drains my energy, it strips me away from my motivation and make me lazy all the time.
So one bazzare night I thought to myself what would I potentially want to do this coming week, so I got my phone started typing my "potential" to do list for the week, okay the list was quite long and seemed quite overwhelming, and I knew I wouldn't do all of this so though I made the list I didn't put too much pressure on this. When I checked back in the middle of the week I did most of the things on the do to list unconsiously. This was so surprising I never get things done.... what changed ?
Most of the time we put too much pressure ourself, that's why we procrastinate and they avoid the things we need to do. The minute the pressure is gone you get the urge to do your things even if you are unaware of it.
Tip 2 - Follow today's work TODAY
- Follow the lecture and make notes while you're attending the lecture
Take brief notes on what's on the slides
If the lecturer give extra info add those especially
DO NOT panic if you don't write everything on the slide, remember these are brief notes to for later revision
Speed is not important, what's important is that you have something written on the paper
when the lecture/class is finished fill in the gaps you left during it, do this right after while you still have the energy.
one page = one lecture (unless the lecture is 90 slides then its bit tricky)
Little ramble on how this helped me :)
I personally find it very hard to keep on top of things, especially with how different lecturers have different methods and speed with delivering their content. I tried many methods, recording the lectures, printing the slides, handwriting everything but it only made me bored of the things I was learning.
I can't stare at pages and pages of writing when I'm trying to revise, so best way for me to do this is if I have one page or two for the entire lecture. This helped me a lot of condense my notes, motivated me to keep writing and I felt accomplished by the end of every lecture.
Tip 3 - Keep one book for all your modules
- Invest in a chunky subject divider notebook
This is where you write the notes form the previous tip
One book to take to all your lectures, don't have to carry five or more
Write all the assignment and exams for that subject in the dividers (Kinda like a self-reminder)
Keep a general section where you write extra information that relates to the subjects (e.g. extra seminars, extra activity sessions, groups project notes, your own research for subjects, assignment preparation etc. )
Little ramble on how this helped me :)
Most of my detailed notes are digitalised, this is way easier then writing hours and hours of detailed notes by hand. But all the modules, lectures, practicals are separated so it's too much of hassle to find what I want when I want to have a quick glance at something.
Dividing the book by subject and seeing different content I am going to need regularly being on one place really is therapeutic for me, give me less stress so I don't have to spend time looking through pages of notes to find just one sentence.
Having one book for all my modules, helped me so much to keep on motivated to write notes and keep on top of it and when I revisit it, it's so pleasing to the eye.
Tip 4 - Write flashcards on the day
- Put little bit of extra into a flashcard
Once you finished a lecture, read back and pick the most key bits and write a maximum three sentences
Keep it very very brief
Think of pictograms for some words. e.g. little blog with stokes for a virus or a spark for electricity
Some info you can't fit on your page put it on the flashcard, like a diagram or a table
Little ramble on how this helped me :)
I am a sucker for flashcards, seeing them makes me so happy to revise. But making them when an exam is near is frustrating so if you make them before by the time you get your exam season you already have flashcards to revise from. How convenient!
Tip 5 - Write a sentence or research a bit everyday for your assignments
- Every time you feel like you done nothing today take a look assignment and write sentence
- Take this step by step everyday and add information along the way
Pick a title first for whatever your assignment is
Do basic research on the title you chose
Do a basic plan
Improve on the basic research
Add information to the plan
Little ramble on how this helped me :)
Doing assignments is tricky, very boring, they can be very long and stressful so we avoid even starting it until the day before it's due. Okay, we all work well under pressure but we don't really produce our best work under a day so investing little time everyday or every other helped me to produce more quality work than normal and it was less pressuring and stressful when I started the binge writing on two three days before the deadline, because all the research, preparation is done all I had to do was write and improve my work along the way.
I actually cannot recommend this enough because it saved me from a lot of breakdowns over my assignments. Just by adding something to it every now and then I basically finished my first draft by the time I actually want to start to write properly.
Bonus tip - Take the weekend off! - > If you're like me and get bored very easily with doing the work then follow these tips for the days you have school or uni, finish everything by Friday and take the whole weekend of .... TRUST ME you will be much more prepared for Monday.
Thank you so much ya'll for reading this, I do ramble a lot but it's a part of me that I embrace so I hope this was helpful for you and make sure to tell me your thoughts and feelings.
Till next time Lovelies x
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The Pink Note
Bucky x Reader
Summary: it's important for writers to remember why they are writing in the first place, so you gave Bucky a note, to remind you when you need it. This is the story of that note.
Word Count: 3,880
Warnings: Steve will not approve of this language, hydra, injuries, some angst but this is fluffy fluff.
A/N: I had this in my notes for forever and you can thank Sam here for bringing me to finally write this one. I honestly love this one so much, I love my past self for getting this idea. I basically had the entire outline and scenes in my notes smh. @ayybtch
"Buckaroo your human is here!" Tony declared as he got off of the elevator with you, placing your luggage next to you as you waited for your friend.
"Thank you so much Tony for letting me stay here."
It's a weird thing to have an Avenger as a friend, a supersoldier at that. He goes off on missions and you are left with your normal life, having to keep living as if your friend isn't in a life endangering situation right now, and knowing Bucky he is probably being stupid in one way or another.
It was fun though, to have a friend from the 20s, it just means that you have every excuse to watch your favourite films because he hasn't seen them. He hasn't seen Narnia for fuck's sake! You watched it with him just last week, telling him all about it and gushing over the books because he was listening to every word you said. He just wanted to get up to speed with a world that flew by him.
It was a funny thing, you met him at a bookstore, he was confused and you- knowing the whole place like the palm of your hand- took him with you and showed him the books he was looking for, you couldn't help but recommend some yourself and you have been best friends ever since.
"Ah it's not a problem. Any friend of Frosty is a friend of mine. Are you sure you don't want your own room?" you shrugged him off.
"Bucky has a whole apartment, the couch there is heaven and if I can minimize the amount of intrusion then I will."
"You do remember I'm a billionaire, right?"
"Yes Tony I remember. Seriously thank you though, I refuse to be in that apartment while they do the construction in the building." You let out a shriek as two big hands came behind you and pulled you up in the air. "Stupid stealth spy shit, Bucky put me down!"
He only laughed at you, not letting you go.
"Is this a way to talk to your very generous host?" you turned your head to look at his smirk, you put your arms around him in a hug and smiled up at him.
"I was very nice to Tony." Your grin was intact as his turned into an offended one, his mouth opened in shock. He looked between you and Tony who was smirking mischievously.
"Oh you're just an annoying little brat aren't you? I am offended to my core."
"I am, what are you going to do about it?" you challenged, you didn't pay attention to tony who just groaned and left, tired of your banter.
When Bucky smiled you knew it was over. He just picked you up and threw you over his shoulder and smirking at your protest, one hand holding you in place and the other taking your suitcase.
"Did you know we have a pool here?"
It was needless to say that when you walked into Bucky's floor you were drenched, while he was squeaky clean beside you.
"Welcome to my humble room!" it was larger than your apartment and he knew that.
"I am going to kill you, but before I do that I am going to go to your bed and ruin your sheets."
"And how exactly are you going to do that?" he taunted as you strode to his bedroom.
"I'm extremely wet, how do you think?" you only heard it when you saw his smirk.
"Is that so?"
"Oh don't you dare go there, you know that is not what I meant, oh my gods I hate you so much." He laughed but you still went to his bedroom, curling under the warm sheets. You knew exactly on which side he slept, it smelt like him, so you made sure to squeeze the water out of your hair there.
"I prepared you a warm bath," you heard him say from the door, you turned to look at him. "Come on, you're going to catch a cold if you stay there."
"Fine, my job here is done anyways. Have fun trying to put on new sheets."
"Doll you know I can't put them on normally."
"I know." You gave him a quick hug before you went to the bath was waiting for you. You couldn't lie and say that you walked there quickly because of the cold rather than the blush that coloured your cheeks. You hated when he called you that.
It took you a little while but you got used to life in the tower, the kitchen was too crowded way to early in the morning for you, but at least Bucky made you productive in that regard? Procrastination was your go to as a writer, but this novel was important to you so you did your best effort.
So now Bucky woke you up after he got back from his run with Steve, making your morning start at 6am. Then you're having breakfast with the almighty Avengers, which are not so almighty in the kitchen. You were thankful for being able to do your job from home, you got rid of your responsibilities so you could finally be able to plan out your novel.
By planning out your novel you meant making a mess of too many papers and sticky notes with rushed handwriting that somehow was only understandable to you. Even genius AIs and spies wouldn't be able to decrypt your organized mess.
Sometimes you were in Bucky's room, and sometimes in the common room for a change of scenery.
"Y/N Y/L/N!" you heard Clint scream your name from the living room while you were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a drink. You reached the living room to see Clint and Sam leaning over and looking at the huge whiteboard you had on, the chapters organized on it.
"What do you think you're doing?" you asked them, people weren't supposed to read your novel, especially not your first draft.
"You can't just kill her off!"
"Hey, I can do whatever you want with my characters, now scatter because I found a plot hole and I need to work on it." You smirked as the two walked away from the desk you set up for yourself.
"Just saying, maybe if you keep your characters alive you wouldn't have a problem." You smacked Sam's shoulder when they passed by you.
"Keep annoying me and I'll make you a character and torture your character."
You sighed to yourself and got to work, comparing your notes and trying to find a way to make your novel work.
It's been three days since, and you honestly didn't know why you even bothered anymore, it wasn't working, you just couldn't find the solution.
You've added colorful sticky notes to the board, some simply had song names on them, and some had dialogues. Bucky walked into his floor, he loved seeing the focused look you had when you worked, with your bottom lip bitten and your eyes sharp, you were too cute like this. He stopped in his place when he saw what you were wearing. His red Henley looking like a dress on you, stopping probably a little too short than what it should. He assumed you wore shorts, but he couldn't see and he didn't know what he'd prefer.
"Is that my shirt?" you nodded absentmindedly, still looking at your notes as he walked over to where you stood.
"If you didn't want me to steal it, don't leave it out in the open."
"It was in the closet." That earned him a small smirk.
"The closet was in my eyesight, my point stands." Your smirk soon fell. "I just don't even know-"
You looked at Bucky then, holding his gaze. He suddenly grew shy at your stare. He studied you, after all this time a trained assassin, the winter soldier… couldn't analyze a girl.
"What's up with all the sticky notes?" he cleared his throat and it seemed to snap her out of it.
Sometimes the answer comes out of nowhere and is standing right in front of you.
"They help remind me of stuff." Then you looked at his icy blue eyes before turning around. He saw you scrabble something on a pink post-it note, and then you turned around and put it on his forehead.
"It's going to fall you know." He laughed, which only made the note that much closer to falling. You cursed at him, but you had a certain look in your eyes that he'd never seen before.
"Keep it, I need you to remind me of it," you said simply before an alarm went on in your head and you outstretched a hand as if to stop him. "But don't read it!"
As it began to fall, he folded it and without looking at it he put the pink note in his pocket.
That's where it all started.
It's been there for days now. He moved the note from pocket to pocket, sometimes you will come into a room and ask him for it, only to give the note back to him, still folded, a few minutes later. Alongside that same unexplainable look which seemed to disappear only a moment later.
On and off missions he still took it with him, always in the pocket in his gear or in his pants. He didn't know why he did it, but it felt important. For such a small note, it felt like it held the entire world. At least for your world, so it was for his too.
"Hey there Bucky boo," you laughed when he grumbled on the other side, he absolutely hated that nickname. "How are you doing?"
"I am really tired actually, doll."
"Oh no, did something happen? Bucky-"
"No, Sam is just being an annoying little shit." You heard then noises from the phone, you couldn't help but shake your head at their childish behaviour. Bucky finally went to a quieter place. "I'm okay doll, really."
He pulled out the little pink note as he talked to you, a soft smile spread on his face.
"Are you going to be back soon?" you picked on your nails, waiting for his answer. He just got lost in the note, testing he put it against the light yet still seeing nothing.
"I'm afraid it's going to take a little longer than expected. Some things changed- but before you say anything, I'll be just fine. Am I surrounded by idiots? Yes." He relished in the laugh you gave him at that. "But I am a supersoldier, so it balances out."
"Okay fine, I'm going to leave you to it. Bye."
"Bye, doll." He put the note back in its place. And went back into the room they were staying in.
"Man, you're whipped, you know that right?"
"Eat shit, Wilson."
It's been thirty minutes now that you were sitting in the dining room table, your fingers on the keyboard and you were looking at the computer with determination, yet whenever he passed by you, he saw a blank page in front of you.
The page was mocking you, you could hear it. Locked in a staring contest the computer won when you saw a cup of tea being put on the table next to you, and then the pink note was in the palm of your hand.
"Maybe take a break after this, but I thought this might help." He didn't see the smile on your face as your eyes followed him when he walked back to the kitchen, Natasha however was more observant. When you saw her looking at you with a smirk you cleared your throat and went back to writing.
It's been thirty minutes and he actually liked the sound of your typing on the keyboard, he could hear it from a room away.
“As I was saying,” Wanda tried to get the group’s attention. The monthly movie night is some serious talk. “We watched Lord of The Rings together, we watched Narnia together- it’s only fair that we will marathon Harry Potter together now.”
That caused a new fight about what movie they should watch next, but Bucky couldn’t care less, he focused his ears on your typing.
When it stopped, you entered the kitchen with an empty cup which you put in the sink before giving him the note back and a hug. He was glad the discussion was over when you came.
"Psst, Bucky wake up," he barely woke up and just looked at your silhouette as the light from the living room shone behind you. "I need it."
Without a word he took the note out and handed her the note, he stretched around a little, still half asleep when he saw the hour on the clock. Before you could get away from him, he took the covers off, brought his hands around you and pulled you to him. Your back to his chest, he didn't let you protest as he turned around to his side, bringing you with him.
"Shh, sleep." He pulled the covers over you and put the note back in place.
"But Bucky I need to work."
"No, you are my teddy bear now, and I am going to sleep and you need sleep too." You knew there was no getting out of his grip, especially when he was somehow already asleep.
Tiredness soon washed over you too and you let it take you.
You were awakened by a loud crash, you heard gunshots and panicked voices outside and a red alarm shone brightly in the dim lights of the floor.
"Bucky?" you called out to him, and he got out of his room already with a rifle and daggers.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y what's going on?" he came to you and put a comforting hand on your shoulder which you clutched when you saw the smoke that came from beneath the door.
"It seemed that hydra has infiltrated the building, Sergeant Barnes. Captain Rogers is asking for your assistance." You barely had time to react before Bucky went towards the door.
"Stay here doll, go to my room and lock the door. F.R.I.D.A.Y let me know if anyone is getting through this door."
"Wait, what about you?" it was weird to have an Avenger friend, you were constantly worried about him, but you never saw him actually in action. You enveloped him in a big hug, afraid to let go, but he let go.
"I'll be okay doll, just stay here and I'll come back as soon as I can." You bit you lip, holding back what you wanted to say. Nodding to him, he left and you went to his room, shutting the door.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y, can you tell me if something happens to him?"
"I will, Miss Y/N."
It was hard to calm yourself down when you still heard everything that was happening between the gunshots and the screams. The anxiety was killing you, and so you didn't think.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y, what floor is Bucky in?" you got out of the bed.
"Miss, I don't think that is a good idea. Sergeant Barnes told you to stay inside."
"Please, I just need to see him." You waited a bit before the AI gave you his location.
The minute you walked outside of the safety of Bucky's room you smelled the heavy smoke and you put your hand up to cover your mouth and nose.
Maybe it was better that you got out of the room, if the fire spread than it would probably be safer to get out of the building. You mused in your thoughts as you went down the stairs.
You got to the floor Bucky was supposed to be in, and it was quiet. Too quiet. You hesitantly looked into one to the rooms, backing away when you saw dead agents there.
Okay maybe it was better if you had stayed in your room.
"Bucky?" you called out, your tears watering a bit when another cough took over. You walked into a larger room and saw the fire there, spread all over it. The bottles with the different chemicals were falling from the shelf. "Bucky!"
You just hoped he wasn't hurt. He had to be here somewhere. Deciding to run back you collided with someone and fell on the floor. You looked up and saw someone you definitely did not know, and when you saw the red sign on his shoulder you cursed and started to back away.
The bastard only smiled and pulled out his weapon. But before he could do anything a shot was heard with a shout of your name.
The agent went down and in the far end of the hallway you saw Bucky. Getting up you ran towards him as he ran towards you, but before you could reach him, you heard the explosion before it knocked you down. Then everything went black.
"Bucky, you need to rest." Steve put a hand on his friend's shoulder. You've been unconscious for almost two days, Bucky hasn't left the spot right next to your bed. The infirmary was cold, Steve handed Bucky the blanket he asked him to bring, he gently put it on you. Then he went back to sitting again.
"I'm fine Steve, I'm not going anywhere. Can you please ask people to leave us alone?" the blond nodded and exited the room, leading his friends away from there.
Bucky brought his hand to yours, finger pressing on the back of your wrist, taking comfort in the steady pulse. He hated you for going out of the room when he told you to stay there. He hated himself for not getting to you sooner. He's going to talk to Tony about improving F.R.I.D.A.Y to not listen to idiots.
He laid his head on the bed next to your hand when a thought crossed his mind. His metal arm let go of you and went to his side pocket. There it was, the pink note, unharmed.
He stared at it, he couldn't see the writing on it as it was folded, then he looked at you and slowly he decided to open the note.
Holding his breath, not knowing why, he gently unfolded it until he could see what was written inside all those days ago.
Give them a happy ending.
He let out a sigh, the words alone bringing him comfort when his mind caught on to what the note said and his breath hitched yet again, trying to process and think about the meaning.
So there he sat, alternating between looking at the note and at you; his lips gently resting on your knuckles in a soft kiss.
He folded the note and put it in his pocket.
You woke up the next morning. Bucky had his head resting next to your leg, hand entwined with yours. You squeezed his hand slightly to wake him up.
"Hey there Bucky boo." You smiled at him faintly, his eyes fluttering open until you saw those blue eyes focused on you, and it was instantly followed by a smile.
"I hate it when you call me that." He said before he attacked you with a bone crushing hug. He let go of you when you winced a bit. "Sorry, doll."
"Bucky, what happened?" your memory not really working at the moment, and by your aching headache you assumed it wasn't good.
"You gave me a heart attack that's what. Gosh Y/N I told you to stay in my room."
"There was a fire."
"We both know that's not why you went outside."
"I'm sorry. This was the first time I saw you actually be in danger. I was too worried to stay there."
"Well, I'm too worried to leave here. Just rest for now, Bruce will be here soon." You rested your head on the soft pillow again, bringing up the soft blanket and breathing it in.
The next time you opened your eyes, Bruce was there with you. You smiled at him, Bucky sat there listening to you talk to Bruce, only letting you go when Bruce strictly told him he needed to so he could run tests.
"I'm tired, can I please go home Bruce? Bucky will keep an eye on me." You just wanted to sleep in a normal environment.
"Yes, only because I have a feeling he won't let you out of his sight." You laughed at that but Bucky was dead serious, coming to help you when you got up despite your protests of trying to slap his hand away.
"I'll make sure she's okay Bruce. Thank you for everything."
You thanked the good doctor with a hug before you went upstairs. After you got ready for bed you all but yelled at Bucky to leave you alone and go to sleep in his bed. About 10 minutes have passed before he left you in the living room with your soft blanket and the comfortable sofa. Sleep took you instantly. Bucky? Not so much.
He mustn't have been sleeping for long, but it felt longer that it should, he hadn't had a nightmare this intense in a while, then he heard your voice.
"Hey, Bucky it's me, you're okay. It was just a bad dream, you're safe, okay? Are you with me?" the dream felt too real but you were here in front of him, safe and sound. Your hand was cupping his cheek, he didn't realize he was crying. He took your other hand and felt for the steady beat of pulse.
"Stay with me, please doll, stay here." He begged you, and hesitatingly you nodded and got under the blankets with him. He did not hesitate to pull you closer and bury his face in the crook of your neck, his arms circling your waist.
"It's okay, I'm here." But it was hard to sleep when he was holding you like this, and by his breaths on your neck he was awake too. You started to play with his hair, hoping it'll help him relax but he rather looked up at you with emotions you didn't even want to begin to hope to see.
"Doll?" he pulled back and rested his head in the pillow in eye level right next to you.
"I just want you to know that," he smiled a bit to himself when he felt the edges of the little note. "You're my happy ending, doll."
He said it as if it was the simplest thing in the whole universe, the one thing that made sense in the world, and to him is was.
You were certain now of the way he looked at you, nothing was there but love and adoration that you saw so clearly despite the darkness of the night. His eyes still found a way to shine.
You couldn't look away, even when blush spread on your face, which you was sure he saw based on the smile that lit his face, he came closer then. It took you another moment of confusion before you understood what he said. But despite the embarrassment you couldn't help but smile back at him.
"I told you not to read that."
Tags: @callmeluna @sstanbarnes @buckys-other-punk @drabblewithfrannybarnes @easygoingtheatre @that-one-person @justab-eautifulmess @onceupona-happilyeverafter @wipplogg @supraveng @bucky-the-thigh-slayer @ayybtch
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The Number One Rule. Chapter Twenty-One.
Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)
Word Count: 3100+
A/N: Ok, the gears have dusted off on this one and I have an idea for the next chapter too! SO hopefully I can get started on that one soon:) Enjoy lovlies and please please please share your thoughts! I love hearing what you guys take away from the story. It never fails to make my day!
The next week, Sarah asked Bucky if he’d like to join them for their Sunday dinner. It wasn’t something out of the ordinary, considering Bucky used to come over quite a bit for Sunday dinner. But now it was a little different as he had a different tie to the family.
“Ok, so what’s new?” Sarah asked as she sat down last, having served everyone else finally and making sure everyone was settled. “How’s the apartment, Mini?”
“It’s coming along. I got a majority of everything unpacked. There’s still a few boxes I’ve been procrastinating on…” she answered. “But, I’ve gotten quite a few new decorations up, or made some, so the place is for sure more lively than the beginning of this week.”
“Good,” Sarah grinned. “Steve, anything new with you?”
“Besides work? Not really. Oh, Clint and I went to a new pub in his part of town with Nat. Bucky, Y/N/N, I’ll have to take you next time we’re over there. It was a neat little place.”
“That’s all that's happened in the last week? Work and one stop at a pub?” Y/N chuckled before taking a bite of food.
Steve set her a glare with a shake of his head.
“Yes, that’s all. Sorry my life isn’t exciting enough for you,” he stuck out his tongue.
Y/N sent the same look back and they both had a silent fight through their eyes. Bucky laughed and shook his head with their mom.
“Not that I find your life not exciting, Steve,” Sarah chimed in. “But when was the last time you did something more fun than work and going to a restaurant?”
“I don’t know. Not much time for anything else, I guess,” he shrugged. “Why am I getting a therapy lesson on my social life all of a sudden though? You haven’t asked Bucky about his week. Change the subject to him,” Steve pouted, shoving food in his mouth trying to keep from being the center of attention.
Y/N rolled her eyes and Sarah took a breath.
“I’m sorry, you’re right. Bucky, how have you been? Anything exciting?” she grinned widely at the brunette.
“Uh, honestly, it’s been a busy week at work for me too. However, Y/N and I did go to a farmers market this weekend and dropped by a shop local festival downtown as well. Found some really cool new stores we’ll have to go back to,” he winked to Y/N who smiled at him.
It was true. Winnie Barnes had been part of the shop local group and they went to support. They grabbed some coffee, Y/N of course grabbing a new book for another time, and then they set out on the town. The hit thrift stores, vintage stores, boutiques, some outdoorsy shops that Bucky found a swiss knife in and went on a whole rant on about how it was from the 1940’s and was in pretty amazing condition for it’s age. It was cute to see him so excited about the little thing.
“It was a neat little adventure for the weekend,” Y/N nodded. “Speaking of, I’ll have to bring Peggy to it hopefully when she’s in town.”
It was subtle how she brought up the friend's name, and the only other person in the room who knew her intentions was Bucky. He paused in his bite and looked to Y/N with a raised eyebrow. As if silently asking, “Now?”
Y/N just chuckled and sent him a mischievous smirk.
“Who’s Peggy?” Steve questioned, as he took a bite of a roll.
Bucky blinked slowly before sitting back in his chair and finishing his bite. He knew how Steve was going to react if Y/N even hinted at possibly setting him up.
“Isn’t that your host friend from London?” Sarah asked, dapping her lips with a napkin.
“Yes, that’s her. She was recently offered a job here in New York. We always talked about her coming to visit anyway, but now she has a legit reason,” Y/N explained, casually taking a drink.
“Oh, that’s nice. What’s she doing for a living?” Sarah asked.
“She actually had a part in a science department within the military over there. She oversaw a new experimentation/ project they were doing in hopes of helping their recruits, but after a few years, she stepped down to work within law enforcement. She’s looking into a job as a Victim Advocate now,” Y/N answered, peeking to Steve to see any reaction. “She had a calling for it and if you ask me, she's amazing at the job.”
“Sounds like an experienced gal,” Steve noted, nodding his head as he took another bite of food.
“She is,” Y/N smiled pridefully at her friend.
“What exactly does a victim advocate do?” Sarah asked. “I mean from context, I can guess, but law enforcement wise?”
“Basically they’re people that we would be assigned to say a domestic violence case, possible homicide victim, whole families that have been involved in some messy things, I mean the list goes on,” Bucky began to explain. “They would help them find a safe place, get them into counseling, help them maneuver through life to feel more comfortable and safe after any unfortunate things had happened to them.”
“We have a few in our department we work close with,” Steve nodded. “Where is she looking at in New York?” Steve asked Y/N, looking up from his plate.
“Um, not sure. I didn’t get that much information, but I know it’s somewhere in Manhattan,” Y/N grinned while taking a bite of food.
“Well, when she does come, she’s more than welcome to stay in your old room if she needs a place to stay,” Sarah smiled sweetly. “That and you’ll have to bring her around so I can thank her for taking care of you all those years.”
“Sure thing, Ma. I can tell you she’s already excited to meet you.”
“So is she your age?” Steve asked curiously. Y/N couldn’t tell if it was out of interest or just genuine curiosity.
“Uh, no. She’s about four years older. So a year older than you and Buck,” Y/N answered.
“And she was in the military?” He continued. His attempt to be nonchalant was wearing off as Y/N noticed it was indeed interest that he was showing.
“Yes, she actually was quite high up in the ranks with her background. They called her Agent Carter in the field,” Y/N added.
“From what Y/N’s told me, she sounds like one who can hold her own. I think Nat and her would get along well,” Bucky said. He was trying to keep it as simple and casual as possible.
“Sounds like it,” Steve nodded. “I’m excited to meet her.”
Y/N couldn't help the wide smile that formed on her face as she sent Bucky the look with wide eyes with it.
He read the, “It’s working,” look on her features and he winked with a lazy shake of his head at her excitable self. She was a dork.
Once the dinner and long conversations were had, they all said their farewells to Sarah and made their way home.
Having picked Y/N up on the way, Bucky took her home as well.
“I think it worked. I mean we at least peaked his interest,” she cheered quietly as she went to unlock her apartment door.
“I think he has no clue what your doing, and there’s a good chance if he finds out, there may be another wrestling match on your mom's lawn,” Bucky chuckled, putting his hand on the small of her back as they walked in.
“Eh, I’ll be discreet. He’ll never even notice I’m secretly setting them up,” she said, turning and wrinkling her nose at him before kicking off her shoes at the front door.
“Does Peggy even have a clue that you’re setting her up too?” he grinned at her cute-self and did the same of pushing off his shoes to the side.
“Er, no,” she said with a tight smile. “But hey! The more natural it is for them to meet and get to know each other, the more likely of it happening. I’ve never been one for blind dates and set ups,” she waved her hand before walking over to the couch and grabbing a blanket.
“Bad experience?” Bucky asked, coming to sit by her. His arm thrown across the back of the couch and her legs instinctively laying across his lap to bring them closer.
“Oh, you don’t even want to know,” she rolled her eyes with a scoff.
“Oh, I think I do,” he chuckled, scooting closer to her and looking at her intently.
“You have any bad date stories?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Tons, but I want to hear yours,” he said, poking her leg before resting his hand across her calf and gently squeezing it.
“Fine, I’ll give you one from when I was in London. But!” she said raising a finger and getting a questioning look from Bucky. “A story for a story. You have to share one too.”
“Ok, ok,” he laughed. “Now come on. Spill.”
“Well, it was set up by a friend that had worked with me at one of the research facilities where they hold a lot of ancient kinds of historical pieces and artifacts. Things like old books from the Roman times, weapons used in wars in the 1800’s and so on,” Y/N started, as Bucky listened closely. “Anyway, the guy she was setting me up with was supposedly her brother's friend or something like that. I don’t remember, it was one of those weird connections. I honestly wasn’t up for dating at the moment since I was trying to focus on school work and graduate early.”
“Smarty pants,” Bucky grinned, squeezing her calf again. “You were so that girl that sat in the library for hours on end reading and then went home to do the same thing.”
“I had my fun in highschool!” Y/N defended, playfully slapping his hand resting on the back of the couch. “I was limiting myself from too many extracurricular activities so I could kill it in college.”
“You’re supposed to have your fun in college though. That’s where all the life stories really come from,” he teased.
“Well, I got all the life experience I wanted. You can’t say you got to visit Pompeii and were chosen to write a log of an entire home casted in ash and soot.”
“Ok, I’ll give you that. That is pretty impressive,” he said, putting his hands up in surrender. “Also, did not know you did that. We’ll have to go into context about that later.”
“Don’t have to ask me twice to ramble about that week.”
“Ok, go on. I interrupted and we got off track,” he gestured.
“Yeah, don’t distract me,” she crossed her arms in a slight pout as she looked up as if trying to find her place in the story.
“You were talking about how it was your friend’s brother’s friend,” Bucky hinted.
“Right. Ok, well, I tried to nicely decline and that held her off of the subject for a while, but she always somehow brought it back up at the most random times. She would talk and talk about these amazing accomplishments he had, or personality traits she thought I would like, yada, yada, yada.”
“Yada, yada. Yeah, I get that,” he teased sarcastically again.
She couldn’t help but sent him a soft smile at his joking before continuing.
“A few weeks to almost a month later of persistent hinting and talking about taking a chance on him for just one date, I finally caved. I was more so just doing it so that I wouldn’t have to hear about it anymore.”
“Ah, so you weren’t even excited or wanting a blind date? It was forced?”
“Bingo,” she said, shooting a finger gun at him. “So she sets up the date practically for me, and just tells me where to meet him and where. Luckily for me, he was close to Peggy’s house, so I had a close escape if needed.
“I’m just going to take a wild guess and say that close escape was needed,” Bucky cringed some just by the look on her face.
“Right again, Barnes! You win the lottery,” she exaggerated. “So when we first got there, I met him in the front of a local coffee shop and he seemed sweet and bought my coffee and we walked out to the tables on the patio.”
“Was he cute?” Bucky questioned subtly.
“You want to have girl talk now?”
“I mean I’m just wondering,” Bucky shrugged, watching himself draw circles on her legs.
She let out a small chuckled, and grabbed his hand that was resting on the couch and intertwined hers into his.
“Nothing compares to you, hotstuff,” she winked.
Bucky rolled his eyes and they kept their hands like that the rest of the story. Sending subtly touches and caressing the back of each other's hands with their thumbs unconsciously. They had realized in the newness of this relationship, the simple physical touch was one of their favorite small things they could do with each other. For both of them.
“Now, stop interrupting me so I can finish,” she playfully warned him.
“Sorry, sorry. I’ll zip it from here on out,” he nodded, making the motion of zipping his lips with his free hand.
She shook her head with a giggle, once again continuing.
“Anyway… It took only about 2 minutes into the conversation that I sensed something was off. He seemed distracted and was radiating a sad energy. When he didn’t keep up his end of the conversation much, I asked if he was ok. He went on to tell me a very in depth and lengthy story about how that specific coffee shop was his ex-girlfriend’s favorite place to visit before she moved.”
Bucky gave a look of distaste, but didn’t interrupt.
“Turns out he was still hooked on the past girlfriend, and when I tell you by the time I escaped the date and knew more details about her than him, you can guess how it went. I could probably tell you everything down to the girl’s social security number.”
“Ew,” Bucky shook his head. “ So he just talked about her the entire time.”
“Yes, but it gets worse.” Bucky furrowed his eyebrows at that and began listening attentively again. “He was so torn up over her, about 10 minutes into him telling me their favorite things to do together, how she likes her coffee in the morning, how she prefers rainy day weather instead of sunny, and... Well. You get the jist,” she sighed. “All the conversation of his supposed ‘soulmate that got away’ caused him to break down crying.”
“Wait, what?” Bucky shook his head in shock. “He broke down crying on the patio of a coffee shop in the middle of downtown London?”
“I’m being too nice when I say crying, I should really say sobbing and bawling almost hysterically,” she corrected.
“God, everyone must have been looking.”
“Everyone including the store manager who came out and kindly, and uncomfortably, asked us if we could relocate,” Y/N deadpanned.
“Wow. This guy must have really been going through it…” Bucky scoffed.
“I felt bad for him, but also was so ready to go home and get away from the wandering and lingering eyes of the people just going about their saturday afternoon. But he took my kindness a different way than I could ever hope.”
“I’m scared to hear what that means,” Bucky said now a little more serious and concerned.
“It was more so embarrassing than rude or anything like that,” she explained. “He took my arms just slightly opening to show I was leaving, as a motion to hug him.”
“Wait, is he still crying at this point?”
“Yes. Red face, runny nose, the whole shabang.”
“Yeah, and he clung to me what felt like 20 minutes on the sidewalk letting it all out. I didn’t know what to do so I just kinda patted his back and kept saying, ‘I'm sorry’ in a really awkward and uneasy way.”
“Wait, was it really 20 minutes?” Bucky said surprised.
“No, it was like 5, but when you’re on the sidewalk in the middle of the busiest part of the city on a Saturday afternoon, 5 minutes is too long. Hell, one minute is too long.”
“I can agree with that.”
“Anyway, to make a longer story short, I talked to my friend who set me up and when I told her he still wasn’t quite over his ex, she frowned at me.” Bucky gave her a quizzical look confused at that. “Turns out, they had been broken up for a year. The man was crying over a girl who had moved away and broke up with him a year ago.”
Bucky couldn’t say anything. With each detail of the story, it just kept getting worse.
“Yeah, my friend gave me the face she did because she was as shocked as me to hear how he acted.”
After a moment of silence, and Bucky collecting his thoughts, he let out a long breath.
“Yeah, any bad date story I have isn’t going to be interesting at all compared to that,” he nodded.
“I still want to hear them,” she demanded in a fake stern tone.
“Well, if you want to hear more than one, then we may be up pretty late,” he said, leaning down and giving her a sweet peck to the lips.
“You have a day off tomorrow right?” she asked inches from his face.
“Yeah, but you don’t,” he chuckled.
“What if I called in sick?” she grinned mischievously.
“You would give yourself a whole sick day just because you want to stay up and here me ramble on about horrible women I dated in the past?” he laughed pulling her from her spot and wrapping his arms around her. They adjusted on the couch to where Bucky was laid across with his legs out and Y/N in between them leaning her back on his chest. This had become one of their, ‘let’s get comfortable because we may not be moving for a while’ positions.
“Eh, it’s been super slow at work because my resources still haven’t come in. If anything I can tell them I’ll work from home since I’m ‘not feeling great’,” she air quoted.
“So is this your way of asking me to stay over?” he said, turning his head down to see her face better. Her head was resting on his chest and she was using his torso as her support as she turned to look up at him.
“Yes, please,” she grinned.
He smiled at that before leaning down and making that peck from earlier last a little longer.
“Sure thing, doll. I can’t say no to that face,” he chuckled, before placing an extra kiss to the top of her head.
“Ok, so now we have all night. Your turn for bad date stories,” she said, snuggling into his body more and getting comfortable.
“Ok…” he paused, thinking back. “Oh, God. This one’s bad and it involves your brother doing something embarrassing too.”
“Ah, and you’ve already’ve hooked me,” she jeered.
(The tags for this series are closed. If you would like updates, please turn on my notification:)
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𝕙𝕠𝕨 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕪 𝕙𝕖𝕝𝕡 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕠𝕟 𝕨𝕒𝕤𝕙 𝕕𝕒𝕪
≛ ft shota aizawa, ejiiro kirishima, katsuki bakugo and izuku midoriya with a black!reader.
≛warnings: light swearing, izuku and kiri being adorable supportive boyfriends
≛a/n: honestly i’m procrastinating on chapter three, so have some soft wash day hcs with our 1-a bbys and our fav sleep deprived teacher🥺
having long hair himself, he’s well prepared and has virtually anything you might need
but he understands that your hair textures are so different
so he does his homework on black hair and how to take care of it
we love a s/o who educates THEMSELVES
and when wash day comes around, this man is more than ready to help
need a denman brush? he’s got it. curl smoothie? duh. growth oil? hair masks? heat protectant? rat tail combs? of course. diffuser? baby have you SEEN his hair, mans owns too many blow dryer accessories it’s almost embarrassing.
he’s patient during the detangling process, letting you take the lead
he knows how bothersome it can be to have people try to help when you’ve got a set way of doing things
so he lets you do what you have the energy to, and he does the rest
he’s so gentle, and kisses your forehead as an apology when he hits a particularly painful snag
he’s quick too, making short work of the process and decreasing it by a solid 20 minutes, which if you know the pain of wash day, it means a LOT.
he’s not a super romantic person, but he does his best to make washing your hair a relaxing experience
he’ll lower the lights, and run you a hot bath, coaxing you between his legs, sitting on the edge of the tub while he massages the shampoo into your hair slowly
his nails are blunt for obvious reasons, but he makes an effort to scratch as much as possible, and his heart flutters just a bit with how at peace you look
he focuses on the roots as that’s the only place that needs such attention and rinses with cold water to seal up your cuticles
he’d help you towel off and will sacrifice one of his comfier long sleeve shirts to help you dry your hair, since you mentioned towels add frizz and remove moisture.
he’s so good with the LOC method, applying just enough oil to seal, but not weigh your curls down too much.
always delicate with your ends
he lets you work the parts you can reach, and for places like the back of your head, he takes over, working the leave in conditioner in with ease
shota can two strand twist tf out some damn hair no i don’t take criticism
he’s also obsessed with the way your hair shrinks, though he’d never admit it
so much length compressed into gorgeous coils, he wonders how the hell does hair just...defy gravity🧍🏾♀️
all in all, wash days are the highlight of his day, plus it gives him an excuse to whip out the matching bonnets he gets for y’all every time he goes on a beauty supply run
surprisingly enough, he’s another patient one
but this is both in part to him having done his research due to his thick hair, and he’s had black girlfriends in the past
so wash day ain’t nothin new to him, when you come to him the next morning dreading what the day had in store, he’d already whipped out the box holding your shared hair supplies, towel and brush at the ready.
he can be a little overzealous when it comes to brushing out your curls, having grown up on the “you just tenderheaded” bullshit
but he makes sure to never actually hurt you, or tug too hard
he’s also a firm believer in finger detangling, opting to use the brush for your ends, and going over the section with his fingers to get out any lingering kinks
will trim what needs to be trimmed, to him length is not worth retaining if it’s split half to death💀
once detangling’s done, he’ll breeze through the shampoo section
which brings us to his favorite part: deep conditioning
he’s partial to Uncle Funky’s Daughter’s products, combining their Heal & Renew deep conditioner with the Midnite Train leave in to get you allllll the way together.
this, plus a hot oil treatment will have you ready to marry this mf on the spot🧎🏾♀️
he knows your hair is a huge source of pride for you, so he does his part to help keep it voluminous and defined whenever he can
does give unsolicited advice (criticism)
but knows when to pull back, knowing that nobody knows what’s best like you do
still won’t keep him from getting pissed at you for not having had a trim in 4 months tho 🤷🏾♀️
his strength is cornrows, he keeps a perfect grip that isn’t so tight it’ll snatch your damn edges out but tight enough to last you a while
you always find a way to con him into braiding your hair down before you do an install. how? he don’t know
he loves you, that’s how.
wash days with katsuki are so frustrating, but the both of you wouldn’t give them up even if the world depended on it.
i can’t think of a more supportive (yet clueless) bf
but that doesn’t mean he’s not ready to learn!
it starts when he asked you if you wanted to go out saturday, and you said you couldn’t cause you had to wash your hair
he was like ?????
let’s just go after????
and so you had to break it down to him that your hair requires a lot of attention and care that you NEED a whole day to tend to it, not just wash
he nods, face lighting up as he proposes that he just come over and help
you’re a little hesitant, as you don’t just let anybody play around in ya hair like that
but he says he’s really intrigued and he wants to learn, so you agree
he mostly just watches, not wanting to mess up your flow, but participates on some of the easier parts, like working the curling cream into your locks
he’s also really good with massaging your head while you wash, his fingers nearly putting you to sleep
his sectioning needs a little work, but it’s nothing practice can’t fix
although you really gotta catch him up on what certain things actually mean
mf nearly had a heart attack when you said the words “hot oil treatment” and spazzed thinking you was about to put ya head in some damn chicken grease🕳🤸🏾♀️
over time though, he gets better at things like flexi rods, and even learns to do how to do crochets (my heart just MELTED)
he even takes some pointers and gets better at taking better care of his own hair. between hero work, hittin the gym, hanging with you and having “bro time” his hair is the last thing on his mind
plus it’s dyed, so he should be taking better care of it anyway🙄
wash days with kiri are so fun tho, and you’ve even made a habit of spiderman kissing whenever you’re upside down and scrunching your curls🥺🤎
asks!!! so!!! many!!! questions!!!
honestly is just happy to be there
wants to know what everything is, what it does, if you like it, etc.
also takes notes on what you do and how you do it so he’ll remember for the future 🥺
he’s so nervous when you ask him if he wants to help
he doesn’t wanna mess it up, your hair’s so pretty 🥺🥺
he has curly hair too, but it’s much easier to manage, so he’s wayyy outta his depth
you help him through each step though, and with some time he gets more and more comfortable
shampoo is his favorite part cause he gets to try and make your hair do different shapes (the number one hero is secretly a big ass baby...who knew)
he’s another one that’s amazed by the way your hair can shrink
he knows your hair’s pretty long, you got a blowout one time and you swear he had a mini stroke for a good five mins with the way he just....froze
he fell even more in love with your hair that day
so to see it so short just wows him
if you’ve got really short 4c type hair, he wants you to go green with him so y’all can match🧚🏾
gets really good at protective styles (especially box braids)
cause at heart he’s a hero and wants to protect everything he loves from harm
yes, that includes protecting your curls from split ends and keeping em fresh.
thanks so much for reading! let me know if you guys want more of these, and feel free to throw me a like or a reblog if you enjoyed! mwah!
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Thought I might share my “doing homework with adhd” tips in case the might help even just one person (because that would make me feel happy).
Who am I to be giving you advice? Good point! I am still terrible at studying and I’m 26 and at University for the millionth time. But I have studied A LOT in my 22 years of schooling with varying degrees of success.
I see a lot of people, especially teenagers or first year university/college students, with ADHD asking for tips on how to study. But if you do a google search most of the websites and advice that comes up can be extremely ableist. So I hope I can help someone!
TIPS TO HELP YOU STUDY WHEN YOU HAVE AN ADHD GREMLIN BRAIN!:
1. Chewing gum!
- This might come across as a weird one, but it has actually really helped me. I use it as a form of stimming to help keep me focused and concentrating. Other forms of stimming can potentially end up being more of a distraction when you actually need to be reading or writing - but they can help if you just need to be listening. Try not to get a bubble gum or fun flavoured one though - as they can end up making your mouth feel dry, lose flavour quickly, and just give your brain way too many sensory things to become distracted with.
2. Buying colour coded stationary!
- New stationary can make me really excited to start studying, but that excitement never lasts long and the act of buying stationary can sometimes become it’s own hobby. That’s not what we are going for here. I really recommend, especially if you are a visual learner like me, to buy colour coded stationary. This means removable page markers, different coloured post it notes, highlighters, sometimes even pens. This way if your mind jumps from one topic to the other, it doesn’t matter. Go with the flow. Forcing your ADHD gremlin brain to focus can be extremely counter intuitive. So pick a colour for each topic, and stick to that system to find organisation among your own chaos!
3. Buy a really cheap, boring year diary with hardly any writing inside.
- Not sure if your school/university has their own diary but they can be perfect for what I am on about. Generally you can find them for really cheap, soft cover, no writing or designs within the dates. Just dates, days, weeks and lines where you can write your homework. This helped me a lot in High School. I wish I had kept doing it in University, but I am good with giving advice, and not so much with taking it. I used to decorate the outside of it however I wanted. Some years I would redecorate the same diary every semester. In the public holidays or holiday days I would colour those lines in with different highlighters to make it look like a rainbow. But every assignment due date, homework, draft, rewrite, form I had to bring back, library book due date, school activity days, ANYTHING to do with school I would write in there with reminds and check lists. Important due dates would be highlighted, general homework and daily to do lists t(o help me not leave my assignments to the last minute) would have a tick box beside them (because ticking tick boxes is free dopamine). Try to not put birthdays or fun things in it. This is a small way to stay on track so it helps you actually stay on track with the big things when you’re home.
4. Big whiteboards stuck on the wall where you can’t avoid it.
- This is not something I had in school, but I so wish I did. I have been using this recently to keep on top of house work (as maintaining your own house is tiring) and my small business or other things I really can’t avoid. If I physically write it down (not just in my phone) it psychologically does help you commit it to memory. Again, physically putting a line through a task you just completed is a hecking great rush of dopamine. But the biggest reason I love my white board, I can’t ignore it. It is stuck to the wall and is never out of sight, out of mind. I can’t put my phone or diary down and then refuse to look at it until I’m past the due date. Again, I’m not a perfect person, there are days where I don’t do anything I have written on the white board. But the great thing is, I don’t have to continuously feel like I failure, as I can wipe it all off the next morning or week and start fresh. I also put important things I have to remember that I’m doing during the week so I don’t forget them.
5. Icky Medication.
- I know not everyone wants to be on medication, and I understand. I am not forcing you to. No matter what your opinions are, you lovely gremlin who is still reading this post, regarding medication, you are valid and I respect you. My personal experience with medication has not been the best. I have been misdiagnosed for a severe chunk of my academic life which has seen me trying to focus and maintain school work under some even worse states then I am unmedicated! However, since receiving my diagnosis and finding the right ADHD medication for me, I have the ability to get so much work done without having to unnecessarily struggle. It’s unfortunately not magic, it will not turn me into a robot that makes me do work and turn out incredible, noble peace prize winning assignments (as much as I wish that were possible). I still have the ability to be a lump, doom scrolling through tumblr, forgetting to eat, and ignoring responsibilities. But it really helps me when I sit down and start that thing that isn’t fun. Yesterday it helped me hyperfocus on cleaning my office which was a terrifying room to be in. So it’s pretty close to magic in my opinion!
6. Accessing Disability Support at your place of learning.
- Not all of you taking the time to read this will have either a) an offical diagnosis or b) a good disability support available to you wherever you are completing your studies. And that is okay. This dot point just won’t be for you right now. But keep it in mind for a time when it might apply to you, as it’s something I never thought I would need, but will never take for granted ever again.
- If you have an offical diagnosis and Disability Support, make an appointment with the disability support adviser. DO IT NOW! Get your psychiatrist to write a diagnosis letter outlining that you have <enter superpower that makes you hilarious here> and that you are receiving <enter x,y,z treatment here> and that you would benefit from receiving <enter what you have always wished you had on the days you can’t make your ADHD gremlin brain do the thing here>. Now these benefits can be, but not limit to: automatic extensions on ALL assignments, extra time on exams, extra breaks to walk around while taking exams, special consideration when marking assignments, my university allows me to take exams in a separate room with only the other students in my subject who also have disability support (occasionally I have taken an exam alone with only a tutor present) so I don’t get distracted, permission to take fidget items into class or exam (I have the option to wear headphones, as long as I can display that they are not connected to anything). Maybe you can come up with some great ones for you with your disability advisor or your psychiatrist.
- The disability advisor will often go through your course outline with you at the start of each semester or year. This is annoying and a great time for disassociating, but can be useful in hindsight because you are made aware of everything that will come up during your class so you are not surprised. Because lets be honest, it is unlikely you are going to look at the course calendar too often.
- Side Note: I make an appointment every semester with my disability support officer for my area of study to make sure I have my special considerations for the year. Now I may go through the whole year without ever using my considerations. However, the fact that I know they are there takes an insane amount of pressure off of myself. If I’m having an insanely screwy loony tune mental health moment, I can email my coordinator my disability plan and say I need an extension due to personal reasons, and WHOOP, there it izzzzz.
7. Dedicated one thing or a few things that have nothing to do with food/alcohol/other substances to reward yourself with for doing the thing!
- This may not work for everyone. It doesn’t always work for me. I used to reward myself with food, but that only reinforced my stimming with overeating and my already bad relationship with food. And I feel as though that would be the same with any other substance that can be linked with addiction. (Addiction is a tough word, cause what aren’t I addicted to, I have ADHD, but hopefully you get what I mean!).
-Now, boring try and not choose this aside, lets think of somethings that work really well as rewards!
- My partner likes to come give me a kiss and a hug when ever they have written and reread a paragraph, you might buy a book when you get a really good mark, you might want to go make a cup of tea and watch an episode of your hyperfixation after studying for <enter a good period of time here>, you might allow yourself to partake in an activity you usually do while procrastinating (but at least this time you know you aren’t putting something off), talk to someone who you know will tell you they are proud of you as they understand the mental struggle you go through to concentrate (if you can’t think of anyone, it is 110% okay if that person are the amazing people on tumblr or the adhd tumblr chats. We will freaking pop a bottle of champagne for you cause we get it!).
- Try and make what ever you choose be something in a different room or away from your working space. Getting out can really calm you down.
8. Don’t be afraid to ask for assistance.
- This is true for anything, but I don’t mean just asking your teacher to give you extra help understanding the task and marking rubric. Many people online, tutors, librarians at your school, past or present students offer assistance rereading and making small edits (they won’t make it magical unfortunately) to your assignments. If you are like me and once you have written or completed the dreaded thing, you can not imagine or force your gremlin brain reread or edit the thing. So it can help to just delegate this to someone else, who hasn’t read it before, so they won’t disassociate or skim read it. They will often notice things you never would have even if you were neurotypical as that is just what happens when you have been working on something for so long.
9. Repetitive music.
- It generally helps if this has no lyrics. Lo-fi is amazing. Classical is alright too if it works for you, but both my partner and I agree that it can really assist you to keep up pace and focus when the beat is a high and repetitive (almost meditative) tempo.
10. Limit your screen space.
- This is a tip completely from my partner @dr-adhd who also has ADHD, is an avid PC gamer and is consistently in a battle with their gremlin brain to focus on completing their PhD. They have discovered that it really helps them to limit their screen space - simply put, work on one screen only. They have done more work more easily when they have their one screen on their laptop to focus on. Whereas their office has multiple screens so they could be playing runescape, watching YouTube, listening to lo-fi and doing work - which never worked (shocking right hahaha).
11. At the risk of sounding like a Mum... Put your phone and other electronics other than the assignment necessary one, away.
- I am a Mum, but to a fluffy puppy dog, so I hate to sound like my Mum when I was in high school, but she was right. Mobiles are the single easiest and biggest distraction in ADHD history. I often, even at coffee shops, have to turn my phone over so that I am not consistently looking at it every time the screen lights up to say the pizza place has sent me a coupon, or a carpet place that has been having a sale since I was born is... still having a sale, or a friend from school wants you to watch this TikTok. Even though you might not want to ignore your friends, because people pleasing, difficulting making/keeping friends and RSD are hecking real things, but they can all wait. Trust me, none of them are urgent. That TikTok will still be funny in an hour or two. And I’m probably completely right when I say that whomever just messaged you, never replies as quickly as you want them too. So I doubt they are going to think twice if you are MIA to finish your thing.
My partner or I might add to this later, but at the moment I already know that I probably wouldn’t read this wall of words if I was the one reading it, so if you are still with me, THANK YOU and I really hope I might have helped you. Sorry for the mound of words, but maybe you can reblog, screen shot, or save this and read a dot point at a time or refer to it when you need. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, I promise what ever it is, I’ve asked the same thing once in my life or something MUCH stupider.
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Written by @alliswell21
Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]
Rating: Explicit. NSFW.
Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed.
Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it.
Thank you all!
It starts with a harmless ranting.
“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.
The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet.
I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest.
“I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”
My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”
“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug.
The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles.
“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!”
“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place.
I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”
“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”
I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music.
The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.”
I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!”
“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”
“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze.
He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club.
He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.
“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.”
“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?”
“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,”
Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”
I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye.
I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.
“I lost a bet against a colleague.”
“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?”
The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence.
I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”
“How so?” He beams.
“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!”
“Am I that transparent?”
“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!”
We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat.
“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful.
I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle.
He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”
I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether.
Peeta gives a full belly laugh.
I really do like his laugh!
“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures.
Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.
“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”
“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily.
He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead.
I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme.
I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray.
The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch.
Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat.
I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life!
Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt.
Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on.
I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise.
He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly.
“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply.
Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together.
I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it!
There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have.
“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door.
There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me.
The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth.
He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly.
He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.
“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?”
“Okay,” I gasp.
Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim!
“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs.
“Yes… I’ll allow it!”
His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!
Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.
Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!
Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own.
Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up.
But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants.
He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.
“Fuck!” I squeak.
My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.
When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter!
“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door.
Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.
He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.
It’s too much.
I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates.
Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve.
I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor.
All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it.
“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress.
It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!
We both chuckle.
He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again.
“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine.
He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine.
“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans.
He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.
“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob.
“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.
I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him.
Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet.
I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.
“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”
“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!”
His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.
He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head.
“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep.
“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me.
I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more…
When was the last time I had sex?
As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m
Not sure if I can,”
I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive!
“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.
“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling.
I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off.
“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust.
I squeak; he grunts..
Peeta holds me by the waist, “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.
I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?
His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts.
I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.
“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe.
“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”
One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.
I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body.
“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still.
Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.
We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.
Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath.
I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”
“Good,” he sighs.
Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.
I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean.
“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully.
He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today?
“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.
I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.”
Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”
My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.
“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“
My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!
My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?”
“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”
I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.
“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”
I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.
“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—”
While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.
Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”
I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely.
Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine.
“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips.
“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time.
“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…”
Peeta nods again, looking disappointed.
I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?
Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door.
Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”
“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.
“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”
I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is.
>>—————> * <————<<
It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep.
I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily.
I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave.
It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!
I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking.
The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.
“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!”
A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.
I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.
Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself.
“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!”
My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint.
“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?”
He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.
Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with?
But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!
Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit!
Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?!
Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours…
Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach.
I realize, I’m jealous!
My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims!
Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading.
I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!”
I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”
There are quiet little giggles all over the place.
Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”
“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.”
“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps.
I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.
Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.
Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night…
Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead.
I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta?
I scoffed at the thought.
To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?”
Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor.
Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings.
Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening.
I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.
“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me.
His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met.
I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember.
He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—
I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!
Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly.
I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.
I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl.
My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally.
He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket.
How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master?
I shake my head, cursing my horny brain.
Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first.
I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention.
“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“
“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?”
Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago.
“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”
“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”
“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly.
“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.
“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”
“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!”
Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”
I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder.
“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful.
I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“
“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.
I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles.
“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”
Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly.
“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”
“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”
“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?”
“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests.
I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time.
“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.
“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,”
“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?”
He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”
“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”
We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse.
“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly.
Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.”
Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”
I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.
Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says.
“How old are you?”
“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable.
“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.
“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.
It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”
Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”
I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him.
“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”
“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?”
He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“
I shake my head, vehemently.
Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me.
“Please… stay with me…”
Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly.
I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”
He stares at me.
I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow.
“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”
He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”
“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?”
Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”
I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really.
Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.
“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk.
Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.
“Humor me?” I cajole.
He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.”
I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together.
I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”
Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally.
I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?”
It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern.
“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”
My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”
His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”
I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.
I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.
I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.
Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”
I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”
Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.
I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”
Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”
“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically.
“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced.
I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes.
“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?”
I wait for him to nod.
“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?”
“Mmm no, never had. Why?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”
Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern.
“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”
“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“
“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all.
“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”
“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle.
After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out.
109 notes · View notes
♡ starting prompt: “for how long? for how long were you bottling this up?”
♡ pairing: kirby dach (chicago blackhawks) x fem reader
♡ lyric inspiration: “I used to hear a simple song. that was until you came along. now in its place I hear something new. I hear it when I look at you.”
♡ note: not checked for grammar or spelling mistakes
you sat at your computer, typing away at work you had to get done for an internship. it was work you were putting off for a while now and you had to finally bite down and get it done.
“hey, what are you doing right now?” your friend Aniya asked as you picked up the third frantic phone call from her, “work I need to get done for school. what do you need from me that you’re calling me for the third time?” you asked a bit annoyed.
she rolled her eyes from the other side of the phone, “listen, I know you’ve been having issues with him so I want you to come out with us tonight,” she exclaimed, “I don’t care if you’re overwhelmed with work or not. you need to get over this slump and realize there’s more to you than Kirby fuckin’ Dach right now.”
you slid down your chair, growling in response, “I don’t wanna and if I don’t want too, you can’t make me,” you tried to fight back which only earned a laugh in return, “yeah right! see you tonight at nine! we’re going to be at Falco’s so see you there!” she blurted out before hanging up the phone.
you looked down at the clock, seeing that it read five in the afternoon. you had been in the coffee shop for a little over three hours and while the first hour and a half was spent with you just procrastinating, the remaining time was you actually working and getting most of it done.
looking at the time, you realized you might as well get up and leave before it got any later. you knew you had time to go out with your friends but you recent fall out with Kirby made it almost nearly impossible to do as such.
the fallout was one you saw coming for a while now.
between your schooling and interning and Kirby’s career, the time you had with each other was rare. you tried to make time for him, you really did, but Kirby ultimately put down the times you asked to hang out with him. he usually said it was because he was hanging with a few teammates and while that was true, you had also saw a few of his girl friends with him.
you weren’t a jealous girl, not by a long shot but it was hard to see your boyfriend with a bunch of girls hanging out and not inviting you. you tried to remain calm about the situation but eventually, it got too into your head and you confronted him about it.
“you know what Kirby?” you whispered to him, not looking at him anymore, “I’m tired. I don’t know you anymore and you could care less about me. how about I do us both a favor and just end this now?”
Kirby’s eyes widened at what he was hearing.
“I never said I cared less about you!”
“it feels like it, Dach! all I ask for you is hang out with me when you have the time and be around when you can but the last three times I asked to hang out and get dinner, you’ve denied me saying you were going to be with ‘the boys’ and then what do I see? you with Boqvist and a bunch of other girls! hanging out and having a good time. do you know how much that hurts? seeing your boyfriend surrounded by a bunch of girls and not even giving you the time of day anymore?
Kirby looked at the ground, knowing what you were saying was true, “how long? how long were you bottling this up?” he finally asked.
“too long, I guess but like I said before, let me do us a favor and break it off here. I love you, I really do but I’m tired of not being prioritized. I’m tired of coming second, third, and fourth place in your life. I’m tired of having to beg for the attention of my damn boyfriend at this point,” you tried to contain your tears but couldn’t, “I knew our lives were very different from the very moment we meant but I never thought we’d end for a reason like this. maybe Aniyah had a point....maybe our lives are too different from each other and that this wouldn’t work out.
you grabbed your bag, slinging it over you and your wallet that was on his table. you could see the panic in his eyes as he tried to say make up something to say but failing to do so.
“so you’re ending it then?” Kirby asked from the door of his apartment. you gave him a teary eyed look, “I don’t want too but you’re making it hard to be with you so yeah, I guess I am.”
you grabbed your CTA card from your wallet and opening the door of his apartment building to catch the nearest CTA train home. Kirby hated when you rode the train so late but you weren’t about to give him the benefit of driving you back home.
throughout the entire train ride home, you had gotten a dozen texts from Kirby, asking you if you were safe and to at least text him when you got home but after what felt like the 100th text, you blocked his number, his Snap, and any socials he had left.
it even got to the point where Adam had to message you to ask if you were okay. you knew that he would go back and text Kirby so you didn’t bother to reply to his text either.
once you got home, you slumped your backpack onto the couch and ate leftovers you had from yesterday. you were in no mood to cook and you knew since Aniyah was expecting you to meet her at Falco’s, your time had to go to getting ready.
the food felt bland in your mouth as you tried to hype yourself up for the outting. it would have been a lot better if Kirby was going with you but putting that thought aside, you threw the rest of the food away and went to your bathroom to start getting ready.
you figured since Falco’s wasn’t really a hugely popular bar in Chicago, the idea that anyone cute would be there went out the window. the only ones who knew of Falco was you, Aniyah, and Kirby who you had brought with you a few times.
the makeup you applied was very light and the outfit was on the simpler side. since you weren’t trying to get anyone’s attention, flying under the radar in terms of looks, you knew doing the bare minimum would do the trick.
by the time you finished getting ready, it was already 8:30 and Falco’s was on the other side of town. you caught the last train to the other end of town and walked the rest of way there. when you finally arrived, you saw the place a bit more packed than usual.
“( your name )! over here!” you heard Aniyah’s scream from a table. you gave them a wave and a small smile before sliding into the booth, “these are my friends! Michael and Trey!” she introduced you.
you shook their hands and introduced yourself to them as all of you ordered a few round of drinks. since Kirby was only 20, whenever you invited him out to bars or the like, he tended to be the one to carry you back home when you got a bit too drunk.
“so, where do you go to school?” Michael asked, as he took a sip of his drink, “oh, I go to a smaller school here in Chicago,” you replied. he nodded understandingly, “oh shit,” you heard Aniyah’s voice say from underneath her breath.
you gave her a look as she pointed at who walked in. you followed her finger and were immediately taken back when you saw it was not only Kirby but Adam, Alex, Dylan, and his girlfriend as well.
“we’ll be back in one second,” Aniyah told Michael and Trey before dragging you away to the single stall bathrooms, “girl, I had no idea they would be here. you know I would never do this to you,” she said frantically, “I swear, they just had to show up, didn’t they?”
“Aniyah, it’s okay. I just wish I would have dressed a bit better considering he’s here,” you murmured under your breath. Aniyah smirked, seeing your outfit, “well, just take off the jacket, the shirt your wearing is already doing you justice by being a crop and the shorts look amazing on you as it is,” she said snatching the jacket off of you.
the two of you spent a bit more time in the bathroom, restyling your outfit a bit more before walking out. you made a beeline to the bar, ordering all four of you shots of tequila.
“he’s looking at you, you know?” Aniyah murmured as you shrugged, “serves him right,” you replied before giving Michael a smile and look at the three of them, “bottoms up!” you exclaimed before taking the shot and chugging it down with ease.
all of you cheered at Michael called for another round of shots to the table but before they could get there, Dylan’s girlfriend came up to the table and gave you a hug.
“hi, how have you been?” she asked as she let you go, “fine! just getting a few drinks with some friends! how are you?” you asked as hesitantly as possible. you knew she meant no harm but whenever the four hung out with each other, it was rare when she tagged and only did if you were coming along.
“ah, fine. just here with Dylan and a few of the boys. I know with you and Kirby, it must be a bit awkward, huh?” she said a bit awkwardly. you gave her a small smile, “I guess but I gotta go before they start thinking I left them. I’m a few tables over so if you want to take a shot with us, come by!” you said giving her a quick peck on the cheek before leaving.
Aniyah gave you a look, quickly telling you to spill but you shot it down as all of your shots were brought to the table.
throughout the night, you got progressively more drunk. the tequila shots were hitting a bit harder than you thought and before you knew it, any shy bone in your body quickly went away when the sixth shot entered your body. Aniyah knew that your drunk persona was not who you were sober.
“does she really get this way when she’s drunk?” Michael asked, seeing you singing into the half full bottle of Smirnoff Ice. Aniyah laughed, “she does! trust me, one time she got onto a table at a friendsgiving dinner and sang every word to Girls in The Hood without messing up.”
the three of them laughed as you grabbed another shot and chugged it down, “oh my god I love this song!” you told Aniyah as you grabbed her by the hand and shook her, “I’m gonna go see if Tayler is available!” you exclaimed as you jumped over Michael to get to where Dylan’s girlfriend was.
Aniyah immediately got up and chased you to the table but was too late. you were already grabbing her by the hand and dragging her up, “oh my god, you’re plastered,” she giggled, seeing the drunk in your eyes, “I haven’t seen her this drunk since your birthday!” Dylan added on.
Aniyah got to the table and grabbed you by the hand, “Michael bought everyone a shot, we should go and take it together,” Aniyah murmured in your ear. you shrugged, “tell him to wait a second, I’m talking to her!” you responded as Tayler laughed, enjoying your new found confidence.
“god, I haven’t seen you this plastered since you know when,” Aniyah growled, giving Kirby a side eye. all he did was watch the table you were sitting at and seeing the boy named Michael giving you look of what he saw as lust, “aww, hi Dylan! hi Adam and Alex!” you said excitedly.
they gave you waves as they tried to not look in Kirby’s direction. you hadn’t spared him a look as you saw Michael heading over your way, “hey, you guys coming? Trey wants to know if you’re heading back to his place to continue drinking.”
you had never heard silence this loud. although everyone in the bar was still talking and drinking, the air immediately turned stiff. Michael had his arm around your shoulder, “uh, yeah? one second!” Aniyah said seeing as you weren’t even in the right headspace to be going anywhere.
“she can’t. she’s heading home,” Kirby finally spoke up. Aniyah, Michael, and everyone else looked to see Kirby’s dead serious face, “I think I might’ve missed something. who are you?” Michael asked looking to Kirby.
Aniyah and Tayler saw the rage building up in Kirby’s eyes, “her boyfriend, can I ask who you are?” he replied, not taking his eyes off of him. Michael laughed, “her supposed date. I thought she was single,” he said with a smirk that ticked Kirby off more than it should have.
“sorry, you aren’t. she’s too drunk to be going anywhere that isn’t her house so how about you get moving before this turns into something you don’t want coming.”
Michael laughed, putting his hands on the table, “or you’re gonna do what?” Kirby rolled the sleeves of his button up up making Adam and Dylan start to get nervous, “playing professional hockey has its perks,” he replied.
“no, what you’re not going to do is create a scene in this bar. Kirby, you’re a professional. if you want, you can take her home if you’d like but you’re not getting into trouble for something marginally stupid as an argument.”
Aniyah gave Kirby a look before motioning to Trey to come and get Michael before he did anything stupid. you on the other hand were too busy sitting next to Adam and singing whatever song was playing through the speakers to realize what was going on.
“come on, lets get you home,” Kirby murmured into your ear. you gave Kirby a confused, “no! you’re not my boyfriend anymore so I go where Aniyah goes!” you said through slurred words.
“I don’t want to seem like a dick but you got to go home and you’re going home right now. you’re too drunk to understand anything or anyone.”
you didn’t bother to fight as you felt an overwhelming feeling of tiredness hit you. you usually got like that when you got drunk.
after Aniyah gave Kirby your bag with your house keys, he hitched a ride from Dylan to get back to your place. they could all sense the anger in Kirby as he was still sitting on the argument. it was pretty wild to see Kirby so angry but when it came to you, they knew he would do anything for you.
he thanked Dylan for the ride as he grabbed your arm and slung it over his should, carrying you inside. the trip to your apartment was struggle as you kept talking gibberish to yourself and making Kirby laugh.
as soon as he got your door open, he took off your shoes and place you in bed, making sure you were at least comfortable enough to fall asleep. by the time he had placed you in bed, you were snoring your life away against the pillow.
Kirby knew it was best to sleep on the couch to make sure you didn’t hurt yourself if you were still drunk when you got up. he grabbed the small throw pillow and a blanket you kept underneath the couch and tried to get comfortable as possible.
it hit five in the morning when Kirby heard throwing up sounds from the bathroom. he slowly got up from bed and saw you hunched over the toilet bowl.
“you okay?” he finally spoke up, making you jump in fear. you gave him an angry look, “what the hell are you doing here?” you asked, confused as to why he was here.
“I had to take you home from Falco’s. you were extremely drunk and were about to do something you were probably going to regret the minute Aniyah left you so she gave me the keys to your house and let me watch over you until you got up.”
you sighed, “where is Aniyah?” you asked. “home. she had to calm down the guys she brought because he was trying to cause a scene inside the bar and told me just to take you home before any news of me getting into a fight broke out into the news,” he explained.
you leaned up against the wall, giving him a defeating look, “what do you want with me, Kirby? I appreciate you taking care of me but what do you want as a return?” you replied.
Kirby kneeled onto one knee and looked at you, “to give me a second chance. I know I fucked up. I fucked up so bad but these last few weeks have been hell. I miss you calling me after every game and having dinner through a facetime call. I miss your voice first thing in the morning. I just want you to give me one more chance and if I fuck up, you’ll never have to hear from me again. I swear!” he said, almost pleadingly.
you stared at Kirby, trying to see if he was being truthful. you could tell behind the eyes of desperation, he was telling the truth.
“one more chance and if you ruin it, we’re done.” Kirby went in to kiss you as you immediately dodged it, “first of all, I need to brush my teeth and you won’t be kissing me at least for another few days. you could suffer some more,” you joked, giving him a wink.
he growled playfully and watched as you brushed your teeth, “but you can snuggle me while I sleep off this hangover,” you said as he happily followed you back into bed.
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10 tips for college/uni students I’ve learned after 7 months of uni
1. Take your notes digitally.
I’d never done that before (in high school) and I’d planned on doing the same throughout the entirety of my university experience. I was thinking about what kind of notebooks and pens would I need in order to enhance my notetaking process but in the first month of lectures I’ve realized that it isn’t sustainable. Here’s why:
- My hand would get tired very quickly. There’s no way to take all these notes by hand if it hurts.
- You can’t write as fast as you can type. This is essential if you want to include all the important information your professor mentions. Sometimes professors say a lot of important concepts at once and other times they spend minutes talking about something you could sum up in a couple of words. There’s no way to accurately write everything down with a pen for it to take little time.
- Smudging, having to stop writing just to turn to the next page in your notes. All of these don’t happen when using a text editor. Writing in your notebook is unnecessary and really makes it difficult to take notes quickly. And I say it as someone who loves notebooks.
- To reorganize your notes on paper is to rewrite them completely or to write on margins which very quickly becomes difficult to read meanwhile it’s a piece of cake when done digitally. You never need to worry about deciphering your notes or not being able to add details mid-sentence when typing and there’s no way you can have perfect notes ready to revise without correcting and adding stuff later. Save yourself the time and frustration.
- Navigating through your notes to find a specific information quickly is best done with help of keyboard shortcuts. In your notebook you may have a general idea where things are, but it takes a lot longer for you to actually get to that piece of information you need.
2. When taking your notes digitally, use one document for all your lectures from the same class.
It makes it easy to go back to previous lectures to find information you need now. Having a document for each lecture makes it a lot more difficult. Just make sure you make backup copies because losing that document could be devastating.
3. Have everything you need to know for a class in one place.
If you’re taking notes both in your notebook/text editor and in your textbook (and maybe on some loose sheets of paper). Transfer those notes to one place, preferably to a text editor. It may seem like a waste of time at first, but (at least in my experience) you won’t have the motivation or the time to go back to multiple different places when revising and you won’t forget to learn about a concept you’ve noted on a page that you weren’t planning on taking another look at. This will also help you understand the full picture about a given concept.
4. Use quizlet.
Yes, making those flashcards is time-consuming, but you’re already revising as you need to rearrange all the information and extract the most difficult to learn bits. Plus, it’s pretty clear when it comes to checking your progress and how much there is left for you to learn. Besides, if you’re struggling with procrastination (like me), you may be more likely to study because you’re gonna have a clear idea when you’ll be done and how much time you still need vs have.
5. Always take notes of everything you read.
Those assigned readings you did two weeks ago? I bet you don’t remember them as well as you used to. All it would take would have been for you to take notes on them while reading so that you could go back to the essential stuff later. Don’t just highlight. Open your Word MS or whatever you need and type this stuff down. Here’s how I do it:
1. I start with writing what I’m reading (a book, an article etc.)
2. I make an ordered list by chapters.
a) I list all the concepts I find important
b) and add notes underneath.
c) This will help you revise on that later
d) as well as to know where to go back to find more details if needed.
Make it in a form of a list instead of a wall of text, trust me.
6. Don’t just make to do lists for each day. Have a list of tasks and assignments that have to be done at some point before the exams as well.
I use these lists for writing about what readings I have to do, what specific concepts I still need to study, what kind of quizlet flashcards I need to do, my homework etc. This helps me not to forget to do things before it’s too late. I also know how much studying I still have left before I’m ready to sit an exam at the very end. And if my to do list for the day is completed, I can do something from that general to do list. This is also great to reference when writing a daily to do list of course, don’t be afraid to incorporate tasks with a long deadline now if you can.
7. When you don’t feel like you can study and instead you feel like you can’t even look at anything anymore, don’t study.
Unless of course you have that exam tomorrow morning. Otherwise, please, don’t make yourself have a productive day everyday. Even if you’ve only done one thing that day or nothing at all, it’s ok not do do more things. Do mindless activities instead. Or your hobbies. Or go outside. This way you’ll have the mental and physical energy to tackle those tasks the next day. It’s fine.
8. When writing a paper, allocate some time each week to work on it even if the deadline is still far away.
Let’s say you have a month or two to write a paper and you learned about it today. Decide that you’re gonna work on it every weekend until you’re ready to send it or until the deadline comes. So every Saturday you work on it for, let’s say 4 hours. You don’t do anything about the paper on other days (unless you need to for time purposes). So you’re free from this assignment for 6 days a week. It doesn’t hang over your head all the time, just for those 4 hours a week.
So when that first Saturday comes, you’re making a list of every step you’re going to be taking (this may be modified later) to have this paper ready. You start with the sources, all the reading you need to do for this paper. That’s gonna be the first step, right? And you go from there. Once the to do is done, you know where to go from there.
It’s ok if you don’t yet have an idea of what this paper is gonna be. You’ll figure it out along the way depending on what kind of sources you found. You can’t just know what the end result is gonna be if you haven’t done the research. You need something to work with and that’s your first point on the to do list :)
9. When reading sources for your paper, take notes of them.
Just note down what you think you may need from each one. Don’t worry about it being aestethically organized (you won’t be using these particular notes to study, but to reference in your paper). Just make sure you’ll be able to use these notes for writing your paper without actually having to go back to those sources most of the time. Don’t forget to note down what source that is and all the possible excerpts from it that you may find useful. Don’t worry if those notes are long. It’s better to have more notes than not enough references.
10. Try to have days where you work on the same thing every week.
This way you’ll actually make sure you’re studying that subject and not postponing the study session because of other assignments. Try implementing that method especially for things you fear you won’t otherwise do that week. For example I always study French on Sunday evening.
All these tips are ones I actively use myself. I only wrote about those I know have worked for me. For example I didn’t have to rewrite a paper after doing tips 8 and 9, while I did have to rewrite a paper and to struggle with timing before I figured those tricks out. Make sure it works for you and don’t be afraid to change up your working style and strategies. Don’t stick to things just because you had planned to do them that way.
What do you guys think about the strategies above? Have you ever tried them out and how have they worked for you? What would you improve about them? What other strategies would you recommend yourselves?
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more than friends
genre: fluff (friends to lovers, college au)
word count: 1,024
synopsis: you never thought your best friend liked you until one day he obviously starts following you around.
a/n: my HEART ;u; prepare yourself for some cavity inducing sweet fluff
After parting ways with Kevin, you headed towards the library with Younghoon on your heels. For some reason, he insisted on walking a step behind you instead of next to you. Used to his peculiarity, you simply shrugged and continued walking.
You had to finish your essay by tomorrow morning and you hadn’t even written half of it yet. The pressure of the time crunch made you a better writer but it also stressed you out. Hence, you could never escape the loop of procrastination.
The library was fairly empty, which was unusual for the afternoon. It was a good thing for you though. You easily found an empty table and settled down.
Younghoon placed his belongings down at another table, situating himself diagonal from you. You raised a brow, wordlessly asking why he wasn’t sitting next to you.
“What? You work better without any distractions,” he whispered.
Appreciating his thoughtfulness, you smiled while opening your laptop. You typed away for the next hour, rarely peeling your eyes away from the screen. You only looked up when Younghoon nonchalantly slid a can of coffee your way. You mouthed a “thank you” as you popped it open. Enjoying the short break, you watched him adjust his beret. At that moment, you noticed how cute he looked in his new hat.
After the much needed caffeine boost, you stretched before returning your attention to the essay. You regretted taking an anthropology class. It was extremely time-consuming and assigned so many essays for busy work. Meanwhile, Younghoon was flipping through a textbook and taking notes. Seeing him work so hard motivated you to do the same.
Finally, after another hour, you only had the conclusion left. You let out a groan, feeling the back pain that came along with slouching over the table.
Your phone vibrated, grabbing your attention. Eager to distract yourself, you picked it up to read a text.
Kevin: Sangyeon’s picking up Wendy’s and I’m going over to his apartment to eat. You want anything?
You passed the information and question on to Younghoon, who mumbled something about a burger and fries.
You: Anything and everything. Younghoon too.
You shut your laptop close and began packing your stuff. The thought of food excited you, making you hum as you slung your backpack over your shoulders. When you stood up to leave, Younghoon quickly gathered his books as well.
“Look at her going over to a guy’s place. It’s like she wants me to stick with her,” you heard him mutter what he thought was quietly. Or maybe he just didn’t care if you overheard.
On the way to Sangyeon’s apartment, Younghoon was playing around with you the entire time. He cracked a joke about your inability to complete assignments in one sitting and you teased him about the time he ran away after a girl confessed to him.
He got all sulky after you mentioned his embarrassing past and stomped ahead of you. Laughing, you chased after him, making him run faster.
He only stopped once you baited him by pretending to fall. Snickering at how gullible he was, you jumped to swing your arm around his shoulders and pull his neck down. He pleaded surrender after you knocked the beret off his head and messed up his hair that he worked so hard to style.
You pretended to pay him no attention when he stopped walking to pout. Unhappy with being ignored, he caught up to you to hold onto your backpack to prevent you from leaving. His action caused you to stumble back and bump into his chest. You scowled at him, making him giggle at the sight of your very non-threatening glare.
When you finally reached the apartment, you loudly announced your arrival and kicked your shoes off. As if it was second nature, Younghoon neatly placed your shoes together by the door.
“Where are you, Moon Boy?” you called out.
“Stop calling me that,” Kevin appeared, rolling his eyes.
“What? That’s your YouTube name, no?” you asked innocently, dodging the fry that was thrown at you.
Younghoon surprised you both by throwing a fry back at Kevin. Except the fry actually landed on his nose, bringing a burst of laughter to you and Sangyeon.
“Karma,” you taunted as you stuck your tongue out.
“I can’t do anything with Y/n’s bodyguard around,” Kevin complained. You smugly high-fived Younghoon who wrapped his arm around you.
“I got a bunch of things from the menu. What do you want, Y/n?” Sangyeon asked as he began taking the food out of the bags.
“A spicy chicken sandwich for her and I’ll take whatever’s left,” Younghoon answered in your stead. He remained by your side while you went up to get your food.
“Why are you so clingy today?” you jokingly asked.
You weren’t dense. You knew why he was following you around the whole day. The way he looked at you was different from the way Kevin looked at you.
He didn’t reply but offered you a fry instead. You leaned your head on his shoulder as you opened your mouth, waiting for him to feed you. He placed the fry in front of you and grinned in content when you ate it.
“Oh, get a room,” Sangyeon groaned.
“Or just date already,” Kevin added.
“You wanna go out with me, Y/n?” Younghoon asked, facing you.
His question caught you off guard. You didn’t expect him to suddenly ask you out. Especially not in front of your friends. You blinked, staring at him as you tried to figure out if he was being serious. When his eyes showed nothing but sincerity, you smiled.
“Sure,” you said, wrapping your arms around his waist.
Your response surprised him as well as your friends. It took him a second to realize what just happened. When it finally registered in his head, he pulled you in for a hug and the corners of his lips refused to come down.
“Well, I did not expect that to happen so fast,” Kevin awkwardly coughed.
“Congrats, you two,” Sangyeon laughed, slapping Younghoon’s back.
“Thanks,” your boyfriend sheepishly replied.
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