#he didn't graduate at the top of his class for nothing

[canisalbus]

math test machete, what crimes will he commit

.

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: loser!jungkook, sub!jungkook, softdom!reader, afab reader, loss of virginity, smut, dry humping, handjob, penetrative sex, etc.

part 1, part 2

wc: 1894

a/n: this wasnt proofread at all so pls excuse any mistakes</3

masterlist

"o-oh, i don't think we should-"

"you don't want to?", you pouted at the wide eyed boy under you, hand on his chin as you made him look straight into your eyes.

"it's not that- it's just that, uh, i- i wouldnt want to be disrespectful or anything," he stumbled over his words, bunny teeth biting into his bottom lip.

you chuckled patronizingly, readjusting yourself on his lap and making him let out a low hiss at the movement.

"it's okay, bunny. we're just having fun, right? nothing wrong with it if we both want it, hmm?", your hands went down to his dress shirt, playing with the collar, undoing the very top button, "plus, we did make a deal, didn't we, bunny?"

oh, right. the deal.

jungkook's eyes almost rolled back at the implication of the agreement you had unexpectedly dropped onto his lap a few days ago.

your grade for your statistics class had somehow dropped below average somewhere along the semester, which caused your professor to recommend some tutoring to you, claiming that you'd likely not be able to graduate if you failed this class, as it was a requirement.

being in your senior year of college, failing was not a risk you could take, so you pleaded with your professor to assign you a tutor, whomever he deemed the smartest. that's when jungkook came into the picture.

by all means, jungkook could easily be described as a loser. his only friends were fellow members of the anime club, taehyung and jimin, equally as virginal as himself. more than anything, jungkook was just incredibly socially awkward, leading him to a life of loserdom as he made no friends and zero good impressions in life. this led him to dedicate all his efforts to school and give up on any social endeavors.

when the professor had asked him to tutor one of his lower-graded students, jungkook had no issue with it. he was offered extra credit if he did so, so it just seemed like a win-win situation to him. it wasnt until jungkook was told it'd be you he'd be tutoring that he began to have a problem with it.

now, jungkook didn't know you, he simply knew of you. so what if he had a crush on you? he didn't need to know the ins and outs of your personality to be into you.

except he kind of did.

to be quite frank, jungkook had a slight obsession with you ever since meeting you at orientation a few years ago. his friends were aware of his crush on you, always teasing him for taking the same classes you did just to get a glimpse of you whenever he could.

how did he find out your schedule? as ashamed as he was to admit it, he had wrongfully used his power as an administrative assistant on campus. he knew he wasnt supposed to, but he couldnt help in looking up your name and saving your schedule for future use.

unfortunately, jungkook never did anything other than coordinate your schedules. he was far too shy to even make eye contact with you, having never even introduced himself to you.

and now he had to tutor you. alone in your room as you sat side by side.

at least that was what he had pictured, not this. not you catching onto his crush immediately and proposing you pay him back for his efforts in the form of taking his virginity.

he could've sworn he almost had a heart attack when you'd shamelessly suggested it, somehow clocking both his crush and his virginal state within twenty minutes of your first session.

that session had ended quickly after that, with jungkook sheepishly accepting with a desperate nod and receiving a chaste kiss on his cheek as a goodbye.

and now you straddled him while he sat on your bed, hands shyly holding onto your hips.

"y-yeah, the deal," he breathed through his nose, mentally preparing himself for whatever you'd do to him. he'd take anything you gave him.

you grinned at him, lowering your head to kiss at his neck, making him immediately sigh in pleasure. he could feel the stickiness of your lipgloss leaving its mark on his neck, but he didnt care. he wished the marks could stay forever.

nibbling at his neck, you made some longer-lasting marks, making him groan as his fingers dug into your pajama-clad hips. that's when your lips made their way back up, catching his own on his first kiss ever.

he knew he might've been awkward in how he kissed, but you didn't seem to mind it, taking his jaw in your hand and tilting his head so you could lick into his mouth. his soul left him at that moment, with his tongue far too desperate in its movement while yours remained slow and sensual. despite how messy he was, you still moaned against his lips, beginning to grind your hips into his own.

"a-ah, that's ... fuck," he breathed out.

"you like how that feels, bunny?" you whispered into his mouth, "just wait til you feel my pussy,"

this time his eyes did roll back. the mere thought of you wrapped around him made him want to rip his hair out in desperation, almost unable to wait until you have yourself to him.

you continued to suckle on his tongue, making him grow more and more frustrated by the second. your hands eventually came to fully unbutton his shirt, removing it before beginning to feel up his chest and arms, gasping into his mouth when his own arms wrapped around you and brought you closer.

jungkook felt his mind cloud as you ground against him, convinced that if he didn't get more from you, he'd lose his mind. fortunately for him, no begging was necessary for you to give him something that'd have his breath catching in his throat and his tent growing even harder.

he pathetically followed your lips when you pulled away, though he sat in complete awe upon realizing the reason why you'd pulled away in the first place. suddenly the sight of your breasts became the most pressing matter in jungkook's life. his breath stopped and his heart raced, making him feel like he'd pass out if he even dared make contact with the newly revealed skin.

yet his reaction did not prevent you from grabbing his hands and placing them on your breasts, guiding him so he'd squeeze and play with them.

"o-oh, fuck. they're so ... so fucking soft," he whimpered, "so pretty and ... shit, c-can i ... can- can i play with them?", he pleaded, eyes never leaving your swollen buds as his hands hesitantly ran over your breasts.

he hoped you knew what he meant by play, because he was far too embarrassed to properly word his desire.

luckily for him, you were just so nice and so pretty and so so smart that you understood, removing his hands and guiding his face to your breasts, pressing them together so he could rub his head against them, nuzzling his nose into the skin as be groaned a gruttal groan. his shy tongue came out to lick at them just moments later, licking over your nipples all while he whined and cried as if he was the one receiving the stimulation.

at some point your hands snuck between the two of you, sneaking beneath his pants and grabbing onto his cock. you jerked him as he lost himself to the supple skin of your breasts, letting out breathy whines into your skin while his hands tightly held onto you.

as pathetic as he knew he must've looked, he didn't care. he'd wanted you for years, and suddenly he had you in his arms, willing to let him do anything he wanted? any social filters within him left him, letting his unending desire for you take over no matter how embarrassed he would be at his desperate behavior after the fact.

you let him play with your tits for a while, letting out the prettiest sighs of pleasure as he got his fill of you, eventually pulling him away so you could kiss him again. despite being out of breath, he kissed you back with everything he had, now more able to match your pace.

"bunny, wanna ride you," you pulled away with a pretty pout, letting go of his dick.

"p-please. yes, i- yes," he stammered, hands coming down to touch at his clothed cock out of reflex.

giggling at his desperation, you attempted to get up, only to be stopped by jungkook's grabby hands as he whined at you not to let go. grabbing his arms, you reminded him you needed to take off your shorts, making him get an embarrassed look on his face at the realization.

he got up to take off his own pants, sitting back down and pulling you to him the moment you'd stripped. once more, you giggled at how badly he clearly wanted you, pulling him into yet another kiss.

"i'm gonna sit on it now, okay, bunny?", you breathed against him as you lifted yourself to line him up.

jungkook didn't trust his voice to not let out yet another string of desperate pleas, so he simply nodded, taking a deep breath to prepare himself.

but nothing could prepare him for the warmth of your cunt, nor for how tightly it wrapped around his cock, taking all air out of him. he couldnt help the whimpers of desperation that came out of his mouth when you first started bouncing against him, tightening every so often just to get a reaction out of him.

burying his head in your neck, he babbled nonsense against you, incapable of halting his pathetic noises enough to hear your own pretty moans.

after some time, you grabbed onto one of his hands, leading it between the two of you and guiding him, "play with my clit, bunny," you blindly guided him until he finally found your clit, following your instructions of rubbing it all while your bouncing never seized

and god, had that been a mistake.

you got impossibly tighter, dragging your nails down his back and crying his name in the prettiest gasps ever heard by man. he knew he'd meet his end like this, far sooner than he wanted. but he was comforted in knowing that your orgasm was close too, catching onto your pleas to cum with you.

muttering constant praise towards you, jungkook's orgasm took over him as your own arrived, making him deliver endless thank you's while your speed fastened and your rhythm lost all its sense.

"t-thank you, oh, fuck. thank you ... so fucking good, it's- it's so good. oh, thank you ..."

you immediately fell onto each other when your highs had gone down, equally out of breath. being the sweet girl jungkook always knew you to be, he hummed in contentment when you held onto him, cuddling into him in a loving manner and playing with his hair.

if you weren't careful, he'd probably fall in love with you even more than he already had.

he only broke the silence after a few minutes of cuddling, still slightly out of breath.

"do you- do you still wanna go over your statistics homework?"

you laughed, nuzzling further into him, "maybe tomorrow, bunny."

[kierahn]

CATCH ME. [ y ! detective x m ! criminal reader ]

yandere! detective x criminal! male reader

[ nsfw, minors dni. ]

warnings:

noncon/dubcon?

blindfolding

bondage

slight degradation

request here.

× you were an infamous criminal in your area, well-known for your heinous acts and well thought out tactics. money laundering, robbery, murder; you've done it all without ever getting caught. either the justice system sucked, or you were just way too good at getting away with things.

× however, you were met with a dilemma when a new detective arrived in town. it was entertaining to watch him try to piece together all the evidences you purposely leave behind for him.

× you soon learn that the detective's name was Milo, a rookie detective that recently graduated top of his class. he was fresh out of the oven which made him more interesting and fun to toy with. his look of frustration everytime you would once again escape his grasp was always a delight to see.

× as days passed, the interactions between you and Milo increased, and it seemed like he was getting better and better at reading your next moves. this raised an alarm inside your head, knowing that there was a chance you would eventually get caught if this goes on. so you chose to take the safer route and temporarily stopped your acts of crime for a few weeks. just to throw the detective off your tracks.

× unbeknownst to you, the detective already had a hunch about your identity.. no, he knew exactly who you were. after all, he didn't graduate top of his class for nothing. maybe you've underestimated him a little too much.

× it was fun for Milo to watch your ego inflate over time until you eventually began to slip up one-by-one, unconsciously making mistakes that could've been easily resolved if you were a little more careful.

× and now that you've gone into hiding, it was the best time for Milo to engage. your guard was down which would make it easier for him to capture you. it wasn't necessarily hard for him to track your location, not with the chip that he had successfully attached to you during a previous chase.

× however, instead of finding yourself locked away and rotting in prison, you found yourself in the detective's room. hands cuffed together above your head and your eyes blindfolded using Milo's tie, the detective ruthlessly pounding into you with no signs of slowing down.

× "ngh–! .. h, ah ~ s..low" you pleaded through the lewd moans that escaped your lips. the blindfold that blocked your vision made you ten times more sensitive than you usually were, making you feel every vein and curve of his cock inside you. he didn't seem to hear your pleads for him to slow down as he increased his pace, adjusting himself and your thigh that rested against his shoulder to allow himself to bury himself deeper into you.

× "!!" he felt the muscle on your thigh twitch and your hole tighten around his cock, making the detective smirk knowingly. "Found it," he mumbled under his breath, pulling out until only his tip was left inside before ramming down on the same spot repeatedly.

× his right hand held your wrist in place, his other gripping your waist in a bruising grip as he dicked you down 'til you were dumb and needy. each thrust perfectly hit the right spots, bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

× "cumming so soon, y/n ?" Milo mocked the male under him, the hand that was on your waist moving to harshly grasp your cheeks. "considering your stamina during all those times you slipped away from my grasp, I expected you to last a little longer." he observed the drool leaking down chin, the tears that cascaded down your flushed cheeks, and the sweat that clung onto your skin. you looked so weak under him, made him wonder how you managed to slip from the hands of justice for so long.

× you came after a few thrusts, spilling your own load all over your lower abdomen. that didn't stop the dective from chasing his own release, his pace getting increasingly brutal with each thrust. you were already tired, feeling overstimulated from your previous orgasm, that you couldn't help but whine. you tried to pull yourself away from the detective's grasp and crawled backwards onto the bed's headboard, but he simply dragged you back towards him by your ankle.

× "oh, no no. you're not slipping away from me this time, y/n ~" Milo cooed as he kept you down by straddling your waist with his weight, his neglected cock resting on top of your stomach. "accept it, this is your punishment."

× the detective's stamina was inhuman. you would cum about 4 times before he could get his own relief. mind you, he did this five times without stopping that you've completely lost your consciousness halfway.

[ceruark]

liquid courage

synopsis: aventurine leaves your drunk boss on your doorstep. notes: ceo! sunday x gn! personal assistant! reader. modern au (he's still an angel though, don't ask me how or why. the wings are important to me). fluff. cw: none! (implied aventurine/ratio, but nothing major) words: 3,147 inspiration: every kdrama ever

It was, for the first time in several months, a relaxing night.

After weeks of traveling between worlds and meeting with various business partners, you finally landed back in the place you called home: a rather luxurious unit in Golden Hour's finest apartment complex. It was far too big for one person and beyond what you dreamed of affording growing up, but it was necessary.

Not only were Golden Hour's Platinum Terraces a fifteen minute drive away from Dewlight Pavilion, but they also had the best security Penacony could offer. As the personal assistant of Halovian Corporation's esteemed CEO, you had a rather large target on your back. So, despite your initial hesitations, you'd agreed to live in the flashiest building in Golden Hour.

It wasn't like your wallet was suffering because of it. The astronomical cost of rent hardly put a dent in what the Oak Family deposited into your account every other week.

You sighed and stretched out leisurely on your couch, flipping through the channels until you settled on a showing of one of your favorite movies. You let it play in the background while you responded to messages from friends you hadn't had the chance to get back to during the trip. In between enthusiastic conversations and pictures of the fancy meals and hotels you'd stayed at, you scrolled through your social media accounts, grimacing at your feed when it recommended a picture taken of you without your knowledge.

It shouldn't have surprised you that being around Sunday constantly would put you under the same spotlight he grew up in. Heir to the Oak Family's fortune and beloved by Penacony's citizens, the only person on the planet who could complain about having more cameras shoved in their face on a daily basis was his darling sister. As his assistant, you showed up in almost every photo his fans snapped of him. Over the past four years, his fanbase picked apart everything about you: your appearance, your upbringing, your interests, and your lifestyle habits. You weren't quite sure what spurred them on— sheer jealousy at your proximity to him, or their infatuation for him extending to you— but they had all reached the same conclusion: you were rather unremarkable.

You were raised by your parents in a suburb about 30 miles out from Golden Hour. You performed well enough in university, graduating in the top percent of your class, but not as valedictorian. You managed to get hired at Halovian Corp out of college, and you'd been consistently promoted each year since then, moving from secretary to administrative secretary to personal assistant of a high-ranking director, until eventually, you ended up at Sunday's side.

Though your career was impressive, your life lacked intrigue that news outlets and Sunday's fans vied for. You didn't come from money, you weren't dating anyone famous, and therefore, you weren't worth thinking about. You preferred things that way, but it still didn't make seeing pictures of yourself floating around online any easier.

(Especially when people began overanalyzing how Sunday spoke to you in this video, or looked at you in that photo. Their theories had substance to back them up, and you didn't like to think about it. It took damn near two years to perfect the professional front you kept up with your gorgeous boss, thank you very much, and it had only been about a year since he started actually acting himself around you— you couldn't afford to start slipping up now.)

As you scrolled past a fancam of Robin, a message notification popped up at the top of your screen. You tapped on it, and raised an eyebrow at the sender.

Aventurine: hey. you in?

The IPC director was an unlikely friend, but after dealing with Sunday for years and becoming the unofficial point of contact between the IPC and Halovian Corp, you'd started seeing him often enough that you agreed to go to a bar with him one night when you were off the clock. He was good company, and the two of you kept in touch.

One day, after finding out you'd been talking with Aventurine outside of business ventures, Sunday was oddly insistent that he join you two on that night's excursion. You were hesitant to agree, given that Sunday and Aventurine were civil at best and downright antagonistic at worst. But, Aventurine had readily agreed to letting Sunday attend, so you said yes as well. The night had gone better than expected, and after a few more impromptu meetings, Sunday had started talking to Aventurine regularly as well.

You were glad to see your overly cautious boss make a friend, even if he would never admit that they were.

You: yeah, what's up?

His response was instantaneous.

Aventurine: great. let me in, will you?

Your eyebrows drew together. You'd mentioned you lived in the Platinum Terraces, but you'd never brought Aventurine back to your apartment. How did he know where you live?

You leaned off the couch and toward the coffee table to pick up one of the screens hooked up to the alarm system. You tapped a few buttons on the screen until the feed from the camera facing the hallway came up.

Aventurine stood in front of your door, talking animatedly to your boss, who was propped up against him. You couldn't see his face, but you didn't need to to know he was inebriated. He probably wouldn't be so close to the blonde otherwise.

"What the hell?" You muttered, rushing over to the door. Sunday hardly ever drank, and if he did, it was never enough to get him past the point of tipsy. You quickly undid the bolts and threw it open.

Aventurine and Sunday looked up at you. Amusement danced in the former’s eyes, and for whatever reason, he seemed to be very pleased with himself.

Sunday blinked slowly, adjusting his vision to the sudden disappearance of the door. His eyes scanned your face for a moment before his features lit up with recognition. His wings twitched a bit as he tilted his head to the side. The slightest of smiles pulled at his mouth, and your name fell from his lips in the form of a whispered question.

You flushed red. You suddenly felt very self-conscious of your Hanu themed pajama pants.

Your gaze snapped back to Aventurine, who smirked back at you. You ignored it. "What happened?"

"We went out drinking and someone—" He turned to Sunday, whose gaze still hadn't left you. "—got a little carried away."

"And you didn't think to take him back to Dewlight Pavilion?"

"I think you and I both know there would be consequences if he returned there in this state."

You grimaced. He was right. Undoubtedly, there would be paparazzi camped outside of the Oak Family's estate. There always was.

"Okay, you didn't think to take him back to your place?"

Aventurine moved his free hand to his chest in mock offense. "Bringing a drunken man home to my brilliant boyfriend who's already waiting for me in bed? You must be praying on my downfall."

You glowered at him, but before you could respond, the rustling of feathers caught your attention. You turned, watching your boss sway on his feet. He watched you with a frown, appearing more upset than you'd ever seen him.

"You don't want me here?" He pouted, and his wings fluttered dejectedly.

Your stomach flipped over, and you reached out to grab his other arm as he stumbled away from Aventurine.

"No, no, that's not it." He moved away from the blonde completely as you reassured him, leaning into your touch. You grunted as you struggled to keep him upright. "I'm just worried about you being somewhere you don't feel comfortable."

He hummed, leaning forward and nuzzling his face in your hair. "I'm far more comfortable with you than the gambler."

Aventurine watched the two of you, smugness rolling off him in waves. "Yeah," he laughed, "we can see that."

You were going to kill Aventurine. You were going to tuck Sunday into your bed, leave a glass of water and an Advil on the nightstand, and then you were going to hit the blonde with your car.

You shot him another glare before turning back to Sunday. You pulled one of his arms around your shoulders and wrapped one of yours around his waist to steady him. He turned bright red suddenly and you opened your mouth to ask him if he felt sick, but his wings started flapping again. This close, a few feathers smacked into your mouth, and you sputtered.

Aventurine's unrestrained laughter brought your attention back to him. You snapped at him. "Can you make yourself useful and get the doors for me?"

It took everything you had left in you to get Sunday into your bedroom and withstand Aventurine's teasing, but eventually, you managed to get there. You eased Sunday down on the bed, keeping a hand on his back to ensure he stayed sitting upright.

"Are you feeling sick?" You asked.

Sunday shook his head. He leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder. Fighting down another blush (you refused to give Aventurine more ammunition), you tried to pull yourself away from him, but he wrapped his arms around yours and held on.

"Sunday," you said, "I need to go get you water. Can you let go of me, please?"

His voice was muffled by your shirt. "Aventurine can get it."

Said man huffed, but he was too entertained to be truly annoyed, or to decline. "Sure I can," he agreed, before addressing you. "Where are your cups?"

"Top right cabinet," you answered, and he set off.

Sunday's head lolled to the side, rolling off your shoulder. His pout was still there, and it set your face aflame. "It's too hot," he complained.

And then he started to take his coat off.

Well, he tried to. His clumsy movements caused it to get tangled in his arms.

"Here, let me help you," you offered against your better judgment. You stood and reached behind him, carefully guiding his arms out of the sleeves. You turned around and walked over to your closet, hanging the coat on a nearby hook.

When you faced him again, he already had his shirt halfway off.

Xipe, give me strength, you thought to yourself, tearing your gaze away from his bare skin. Your gaze lingered on the wings sprouting from his lower back, which sat curled around his abdomen. When he managed to get the shirt over his head and onto the floor, he unfurled the second set of wings. They spanned the entire length of your bed and were much darker than the ones by his hair. He gave a few languid flaps before settling down, causing them to droop. You closed your eyes and pressed your palms against them. So much for keeping up your professional front. You had no idea how you were going to face him when he sobered up.

A choked gasp prompted you to drop your hands from your face. Aventurine almost dropped the glass in shock when he returned. 

"Well," he said as he placed the glass down on the nightstand. "Seems like it's time for me to leave."

You sent him one last scathing glare. "I can't believe you."

Faux innocence crept onto his face. "Whatever do you mean? I haven't done anything."

You crossed the room and shoved at him. "Out." You pushed him back down the hall and to the open front door. "Get out of my house."

"Wow. Eager aren't we?" He winked at you.

"Eager to get my revenge. Veritas will love the video I have of you drunk and blubbering about how much you miss him," you said. Then you slammed the door in his face.

As soon as the door shut, Sunday called for you from the bedroom. You'd heard him use a sickly sweet tone with clients before, but this one lacked the venom that usually accompanied it. It was like he was singing each syllable of your name, savoring the way each sound rolled off his tongue.

"I need to type up my resignation," you muttered to yourself. You could handle Sunday in the beginning when he was standoffish and paranoid, but there was no way you were making it through this.

You walked back to the room, willfully overlooking the way his hanging wings straightened up when you reappeared in the doorway. You stopped a few feet in front of him, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Hey," you said softly. "Let's get you to bed, alright?"

Sunday blinked at you, then looked down at the comforter under his fingers. "I am at the bed."

You snorted. "Well, we should get you under the covers."

His nose scrunched in displeasure. "No. It's too warm for that."

You sighed. There was no point in arguing with him in this state. "Alright, then. Lay down, and make sure to stay on your side. If you feel sick, there's a trash can right here by the bed. If you need anything else, I'll be down the hall."

You turned to leave, but his hand caught your wrist with surprising speed. He stared up at you with wide eyes. "Where are you going?"

You tilted your head at him. "Um, to bed?"

His brow furrowed slightly, the way it usually did when he was in deep thought. "But this is your bed."

"Yes, it is." You slipped your wrist out of his grasp, but he caught you again by the fingers. "I'm going to sleep on the couch. I won't be far."

The hold he had on your fingers was tighter than you thought. You pulled away, expecting to be freed, but tripped a bit when the rest of your body didn't follow your legs. He pulled you toward him and tumbled forward, falling onto the bed. He moved over and drew you closer to him, draping one of his wings across your waist and legs.

You didn't know if your heart had stopped, or was just beating so fast you couldn't feel it.

"Um, Sunday," you said, the rest of your words coming out as a babbled mess. You tried to untangle yourself from him, but he just clung on to you, refusing to let go.

"Please don't leave me," he mumbled.

You finally managed to put enough distance between you two that you could look him in the eye. "Sunday," you said, "you're drunk. You're going to regret this in the morning."

He frowned. "I will not regret something I've dreamed of doing for months."

In the end, it was neither. You were certain your heart was beating so hard it burst, and now you were dead. When you tried pulling away again, he placed a hand on your cheek, freezing you in place.

"Please," he whispered. "Just give me five minutes."

The desperation in his voice whittled away at the rest of your resistance. You settled down on the mattress, allowing him to hold you but not getting close enough for it to be considered cuddling. Staring at the ceiling in silence, you mulled over his words.

He was dreaming about cuddling, or intimate touch of some sort. It shouldn't be surprising that a twenty-seven year old man longed for that kind of companionship, but whenever other members of The Family had brought up him not having found a partner yet, he always shrugged them off. You figured it was because he generally wasn't interested in finding someone, but maybe it was just that he didn't want the rest of The Family involved in something as personal as his love life.

"I can talk to Robin about suggesting eligible suitors for you, if you want," you said. "We can even outsource their background checks to the IPC. Aventurine will be annoying about it, but I'm sure he'll agree to do it."

There was a long stretch of silence. Sunday finally spoke just as you'd begun to regret your words. "Why would you do that?"

You looked at him, confused. "You said you've dreamed of this."

"Yes," he said, "I did say that."

Was he really going to make you spell it out for him? Well, it had to be more embarrassing for him than it was for you. "If you desire... intimacy, it's only natural we start looking for potential suitors for you."

His eyes darkened, and a slight scowl pulled at his lips. At least this face was familiar: disappointment.

"I just told you I've dreamed of this," he muttered.

You nodded in agreement. "You've dreamed of holding someone."

"I've dreamed of holding you."

Oh. That complicated things.

You swallowed back a fit of nervous laughter. Your face felt like it was going to melt off. "I'm sorry." Your voice came out as hardly more than a croak. "I wasn't aware that's what you meant."

He leaned forward, eyes earnest. "Do you still want to look for other suitors for me?"

You considered your words carefully. "Not if it's something you don't want."

He hummed, then laid his head against the pillow. His breath fanned over your face as he spoke. It smelled like mint and whiskey. "Do you want to be my suitor?"

You pulled your gaze away from his lips and to his eyes. You didn't even know how your eyes got there. "I think you should ask me again when you're sober."

He studied your face for a long moment, then let his eyes flutter shut. "Fair enough," he said.

You laid there for a moment, allowing your heart rate to come back down and letting yourself take him in. His lips were slightly parted, even breaths slipping through them as sleep claimed him. His face wings twitched ever so often, usually followed by a twitch of the larger wing still wrapped around you.

You weren't certain how long you stayed there, just studying him, but at some point your blinks had grown heavier and you were fighting to keep your eyes open. You gave one last shove against Sunday's arm and wing to try and free yourself, but even unconsciously, his resolve could not be shaken. He huffed at the disturbance and buried his face further into the pillow. His wing tightened around you as he tried to curl in on himself, dragging you closer to him.

You sighed and rested your head on the pillow again. It was going to be impossible to get away from him now that his limbs were heavy with sleep. Knowing it was futile to try again, you let your eyes slip shut. You shifted into a more comfortable position, moving one of your arms to rest on top of the wing.

Five minutes, you lied to yourself. I'll try again in five minutes.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

1. prepping (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

summary: you landed your dream job as a line cook at harry styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

words: 4.3k

warnings: nothing major in this one

Your palms were sweating as you gripped the steering wheel, driving through downtown Chicago towards your new job. You kept glancing down at the address on the printed directions, double checking that you were heading the right way. The last thing you wanted was to be late on your first day.

Ever since getting your culinary degree, you had applied to what felt like hundreds of restaurant jobs, desperate to get your foot in the door of a real professional kitchen. But very few places wanted to hire someone so fresh out of school with no actual experience. 

Finally, after months of dead ends, you had landed a line cook position at Haus Kitchen - one of the hottest farm-to-table restaurants in the city. You could scarcely believe your luck when you got the call saying you were hired.

Haus was the brainchild of Harry Styles, international superstar singer turned chef. After his chart-topping solo music career, Harry had traded in artist life to pursue his lifelong passion for cooking. Using his accumulated wealth, he opened up Haus five years ago to rave reviews, quickly earning a well deserved Michelin star.

You vividly remembered watching Harry's transition from a pop idol to dashing culinary entrepreneur play out in the media. As a teenage girl, you had been obsessed with him during his One Direction days.

Your bedroom walls were plastered with Harry's posters and you had relentlessly played their songs, sighing over his tousled hair and pouty lips. Then as you got older and Harry went solo, your boyband crush evolved into more of an intense celebrity infatuation as he cultivated a cool, rebellious image.

There were countless gossipy blind items about his infamous hellraising, flings with models and socialites, and run-ins with the law. You had followed all the scandalous Harry headlines with rapt attention - from getting papped stumbling out of nightclubs with an endless parade of beautiful women to getting arrested for drug possession outside Soho clubs. 

But finally in his late 20s, seemingly bored of rockstar debauchery, Harry had pivoted to reset his image as a knowledgeable culinary entrepreneur. You admired how he transformed from tabloid bad boy into a refined, successful businessman and chef.

He began studying haute cuisine under the tutelage of famous European chefs, traveling abroad to hone his skills further. While continuing to record new musical projects independently, Harry started establishing himself in the culinary world through guest stints on TV cooking shows and food/wine events.

With his brooding good looks, charming personality, and serious culinary chops, the world fell for Harry's new sophisticated image. Before long, he was the subject of breathless puff pieces in food magazines as "the sexiest Renaissance man in the kitchen." It seemed natural when Harry soon opened up his passion project Haus to capitalize on his popularity and love of food.

Now nearing your mid-20s, your teenage fannish obsession had cooled into more of an admiring celebrity crush. You had stayed aware of Harry's journey, but your priorities were focused on graduating culinary school at the top of your class and finding your own big break in the Chicago restaurant scene.

So when you landed a job at Harry's iconic Haus, it almost didn't feel real. Not only would you be working at one of the city's most exclusive spots, but under the same roof as a chef you had admired for ages.

Not that you expected to have any real personal contact with Harry himself, you reminded yourself as you merged onto the exit for downtown. He was an internationally famous mega-celebrity who had to have hundreds of staffers, not to mention being handsomely paid to just be the smiling face of the business while professional kitchen vets like Paul Thomason handled the day-to-day operations.

Still, you had to admit to yourself that a tiny part of you tingled at the mere idea of being in the same building as Harry Styles...hopefully catching a glimpse of that handsome, endlessly charming man in the flesh...

You shook your head dismissively and double checked the directions again, annoyed at getting so easily distracted. This was your big break, your first serious job in the industry. You needed to bring your A-game and focus, not dwell on silly celebrity daydreams.

It was your fantasies of becoming a respected chef that needed to take priority.

You pulled into the parking lot for the restaurant, double checking that you had the address right. The sleek, modern building had a neon "Haus Kitchen" sign glowing over opulent double-door entrances flanked by velvet ropes and cheerful outdoor seating areas.

Taking a steadying breath, you cut the engine and sat for a moment, giving yourself a pep talk. This was it. No more messing around doing coursework or labs - this was the major leagues with all the intensity of a real professional kitchen. You had to bring it all day, every day.

As you climbed out of your beat-up Honda, you smoothed down your spotless new chef's whites, making sure everything looked pressed and presentable. With your knife kit tucked under your arm, you walked towards the entrance with purpose, chin held high.

From the moment you stepped through the doors, it was like being transported into another world. The smell of simmering sauces, roasting meats, and freshly baked bread envaded your senses. Even hours before opening, the energy and hustle for dinner prep was palpable.

Off to the left was the main dining room you had studied photos of online - effortlessly cool with vaulted exposed wooden beam ceilings, brick accents, and casually modern decor. Pendant lighting glowed cozily over tables draped in white linens and rustic chandeliers hung over plush tufted leather banquettes. A lively bar area centered the space, stocked with top-shelf liquors and backed by a dazzling display of custom glassware.

In the distance ahead, you could hear the clamoring of the kitchen in full swing. Your stomach did a nervous flip - this was it. Taking another fortifying breath, you headed through the archway.

You emerged into a large, sleek open kitchen layout, all stainless steel and butcher block islands. Uniformed cooks were buzzing at their stations like a well-oiled machine under the barked commands of an older, stocky man you immediately recognized as Head Chef Paul Thomason.

Despite his gruff reputation, watching Thomason in action was nothing short of mesmerizing. He moved between stations with the easy grace of a conductor, sampling sauces, tweaking seasonings, and directing the workflow with gruff orders. There was no wasted movement or micro-expression as he continually tasted and perfected dishes, alternating between thoughtful contemplation and decisive action.

Though you had only seen Thomason in pictures and television appearances, his fierce focus and mastery were unmistakable. This was what true professional kitchen expertise looked like in the flesh.

Feeling like a mouse that had wandered into the lair of a lion, you hovered near the entrance, uncertain of what to do next. The kitchen team flowed around you in a choreographed dance, deftly ignoring your presence as they prepped and plated flawlessly.

After a few minutes of anxious loitering, the intimidating Thomason seemed to finally notice you. His grizzled features contorted as he scowled, looking you up and down through eyes squinted with decades of kitchen smoke exposure.

"You must be the new kid," he said gruffly, crossing his bulky tattooed arms over his broad chest. Even without raising his voice, Thomason had a rumbling bass that easily carried over the kitchen's clanging din. "Christ, you're shorter than I expected. Think you've got what it takes to keep up around here?"

You nervously clutched your knife kit closer while trying to not look as flustered as you felt. "Y-yes, chef!" 

You swallowed hard, hyper aware of everyone around you now watching the interaction. "I, uh...I came ready to work as hard as it takes. Whatever you need from me."

Thomason grunted, squinting at you for another long moment in consideration. Then he jerked his head towards the back. "Get changed out quick and meet me back here in 5. I'll get you started on prep and we'll see what you're made of. Don't keep me waiting."

"Yes, chef!" you responded immediately, wincing at how high your voice had gone up an octave.

Without another word, Thomason turned and strode back into the controlled chaos of the line, immediately redirecting his attention to sauces and garnishes. Letting out a shaky breath, you scurried towards the changing rooms, heart jackhammering.

Well, you were officially in the thick of things now...

You hustled back out to the kitchen, trying not to look frazzled from your rushed change. A young Hispanic line cook spotted you and waved you over to his station.

"You the newbie?" he asked, not unkindly. When you nodded, he jerked his head towards the walk-in refrigerator. "Thomason wants you to start by breaking down some of the produce delivery for prep."

"Got it, thanks," you replied, eager to prove yourself. The line cook gestured you through the door into the immense chilled walk-in.

You blinked as your eyes adjusted to the cold, taking in the sights and smells of the impressive stockpile. Shelves upon shelves were stocked with an array of fresh seasonal produce - crates bursting with leafy greens, bushels of root vegetables, flats of vibrantly colored tomatoes, exotic fruits, and mushroom varieties you had only read about.  

Your culinary school had humble basics for ingredients, nothing like the bounty of locally-sourced, meticulously selected provisions that Haus Kitchen demanded. You felt a thrill at getting to work with such an extraordinary pantry.

Respirating clouds puffed from your mouth as you scanned the inventory tagging system. You had been taught similar protocols in your food safety courses, but there was something exhilarating about putting that knowledge into practice in a real professional environment.

Grabbing a stack of plastic totes, you made a game plan for which items to start prepping first based on perishability levels and what would be needed for that evening's specials. Though you started out slow at first, you steadily built up a cadence of meticulously cleaning, trimming, and sorting into appropriate storage containers.  

By the time Thomason stuck his head in to check on you an hour later, you had developed an efficient system and made solid progress through a mountain of deliveries.

The head chef grunted in approval as he inspected your neat stacks of prepped produce, crossing his arms as he looked you up and down with a critical eye.

"Not bad, kid," he rumbled. "Clearly know which end of a knife to use, at least. C'mon back out, got some protein fabrication for you to tackle next."

You diligently followed Thomason back out to the main kitchen, wiping some sweat from your brow with your sleeve. Despite the industrial cooling system, the heat blazing from the ovens and range tops made the open kitchen feel like a furnace.

As Thomason led you to a stainless steel butcher's block island, you couldn't help but gawk at the array of gleaming knives hanging from magnetic strips overhead. The blades were works of art - sleek, razor sharp, and clearly extremely expensive.

Gesturing you over, Thomason grabbed a boning knife and twirled it deftly before handing it to you. "Let's see how you handle breaking this down."

He gave the block a solid smack with his meaty palm, indicating for you to get started on the glistening slab of beef tenderloin before you. Taking a steadying breath, you gripped the bone-handled knife firmly and leaned over the cutting board.

"Yes chef," you murmured before carefully piercing the thick cut of meat, angling the blade with practiced precision from all your training.

Around you, the kitchen bustled with the usual rattling pans, sizzling ranges, and Thomason's occasional barked orders. But as you fell into the rhythm of deftly separating fat and sinew, the noises began to fade from your awareness.  

You were completely focused on your knife work, confidently sawing through the tender flesh as you reduced the tenderloin down to portions and trimmings for other stations to further break down. It was meditative, almost hypnotic, the way you instinctively slid the blade along rendered paths of butchery.

After your initial intimidation of the intense Haus environment, you started to find your groove and calm amidst the choreographed insanity surrounding you. You were so laser-focused on the satisfaction of properly executing each slicing technique that the rest of the kitchen chaos became mere white noise.

You had no idea how long you stayed absorbed in the butchery, but eventually you became aware of a presence at your elbow. Glancing up, you nearly jumped to see Harry Styles watching you work with an unreadable expression, hands shoved into the pockets of his slim-fitting slacks.

His dress shirt was rolled up to his elbows and the fitted cotton fabric clung to his toned arms and chest, a few chest hairs peeking out of his slightly undone top button. A single necklace rested in the divot between his sculpted collarbones, drawing your eye to the alluring hollow of his throat as he swallowed hard.

You froze mid-slice, mesmerized by watching the tendons in Harry's wrist and forearm flex as his hands flexed restlessly in his trouser pockets. After a beat, his pillowy lips curved into an easy smile, crinkling the delicate crow's feet at the corners of his kaleidoscope green eyes.

"Afternoon," Harry said in that lazy, husky drawl that used to make millions of fans swoon. He flicked his eyes down to your handiwork before bringing them back up to your face. "Looking good there, newbie."

You blinked, not trusting your ears for a moment before realizing with a jolt that Harry was very much real and quite close. Like, unnecessarily close for your over-stimulated brain to handle.

"Uh...I-I, um...th-thank you?" you croaked out, wanting to cringe at how lame you sounded. Get it together, this wasn't the time to geek out–you instructed yourself.

But Harry didn't seem to notice your fumbling, simply giving you a dimpled half-smile before reaching around you to snag a stray piece of trimming from the butcher's block. He inspected it contemplatively before popping it into his mouth, those plump lips wrapping obscenely around the bite as he chewed and ruminated with relish.

"Perfection," he declared after swallowing, shooting you another crooked grin like you were co-conspirators sharing an inside joke. With a subtle wink, Harry pivoted on his boot heel and sauntered off, whistling a jaunty tune.

As he retreated, you risked a glance down at his form-fitting trousers shamelessly admiring the way the fine fabric cupped the ample curves of his pert backside. Even at his age, Harry Styles had the muscle-toned body of a man decades younger - long, lean muscles taut under golden tanned skin.

You blinked hard and shook your head, annoyed at catching yourself ogling your new boss like a drooling fangirl. Pull it together! This was totally inappropriate and unprofessional. You had zero business daydreaming about someone who gave you your paycheck, no matter how obscenely famous and heartthrob-ishly handsome they were.

Firmly re-focusing on your knife work, you determinedly put Harry from your mind and tried to re-immerse yourself in the rhythm and refuge of the butchery. But the memory of his distractingly lush mouth so close kept replaying over and over, preventing you from recapturing your previous sense of meditative flow. 

Dammit, you needed to get a grip! This kind of inappropriate crush on your employer was exactly the kind of silly, immature behavior that would make you look like a unprofessional joke in a serious kitchen environment. Blowing an opportunity like this was not an option.

Later, as you untied your apron strings and joined the team in breaking down the last stations for cleaning at closing, Thomason sidled up alongside you. You braced yourself for more of his typical gruff rebukes or criticisms.

Instead, the veteran chef simply gave you a long, considered look before saying gruffly, "You did good work today, kid. I can already tell you got the stuff to handle it around here if you keep your head down."

You blinked up at him in surprise before managing a small smile. "Thank you, chef. I really appreciate that."

Thomason grunted noncommittally before wandering off, likely to oversee something else. As you tidied your workstation, you couldn't help feeling a small glow of pride. Despite the craziness of your first day, you had seemingly passed this initial trial with flying colors.

As you left through the back entrance into the quiet night air, you took a deep breath and allowed yourself a satisfied smile. Maybe, just maybe, you really did have what it took to succeed in this highly competitive environment after all. For tonight at least, you had handled the punishing pace and standards. Tomorrow was another day to prove yourself all over again.

***

Your day started before sunrise the next morning, brewing a strong coffee and reviewing the notes you had taken the previous evening about which menu items needed prepping. By the time you arrived at Haus, reinvigorated by the crisp morning air, the kitchen was already a hive of activity in preparation for lunch service. 

The intense scrutiny under which you worked only amplified with the daylight. Every slice, every sauté was carried out under the watchful eyes of Chef Thomason and his steely gaze. More than once, you felt his presence looming over your shoulder, inspecting your work with the same critical eye as a diamond cutter examining a flawless gem.

"This slice is uneven," he barked, startling you. You flinched, resisting the urge to make excuses as he continued, "The portions all need to be identical for plating. Paying attention to details like that is the difference between a sloppy meal and a stellar one. Don't let it happen again."

"Yes, chef," you replied tightly, making a minor adjustment to your knife work. Though his words stung, you had to admit Thomason was completely right. In a restaurant of this caliber, any minor imperfection could spell disaster.  

You redoubled your efforts, pouring all of your concentration into each preparation, each plate. By the time the end of your shift rolled around, you were drenched in sweat, your feet screaming from being on them for 12 hours straight. But you had successfully made it through day two without any major mishaps.

As the whirlwind of dinner service finally calmed to a stopping point, you stood in the kitchen obediently waiting for Thomason's inspection and inevitable critique. But to your surprise, he merely gave a curt nod of approval before waving you off.

"Not bad, newbie," he grunted. "Get a good night's rest. We'll need you back bright and early tomorrow."

Those few gruff words of acceptance warmed you more than any high praise could have. For Thomason, a man of very few words, his small nod seemed to indicate you were, for the moment, living up to his exceedingly high standards.

The high from that small victory buoyed your spirits as you made your way towards the back exit, already dreaming of the few hours of sleep you might be able to grab before starting the cycle over again. You were so wrapped up in your thoughts that you nearly bowled someone over coming around a corner.

"Whoa there!"  

You froze, looking up into the grinning, mirthful eyes of Harry Styles himself. Up close, the force of his charm and magnetism practically crackled in the air around him like a physical force. His sweater clung distractingly to his lithe, muscular frame and his chestnut hair was casually tousled. A pair of small diamond studs glinted in each ear.

"Sorry about that, H-Harry," you stammered, resisting the urge to take a flustered step back. You were vividly aware of just how little physical space separated the two of you. "I wasn't watching where I was going."

If he noticed your frazzled state up close, Harry didn't let on. His pink lips merely curved in an easy, dimpled smile. "No need to apologize. I don't usually make a habit of lurking around blind corners, to be fair."

You laughed before you could stop yourself, surprised at how easily he was putting you at ease despite your elevated heart rate. Up close, Harry's eyes weren't just green - an entire kaleidoscope of colors ranging from jade to emerald to amber seemed to shift and dance in his gaze. It was...dazzling, frankly.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to take a subtle step backwards, putting a more professional amount of space between the two of you. The last thing you needed was to do something wildly inappropriate that would get you fired before the end of your first week.

"Still, I should have been paying better attention to my surroundings," you replied, aiming for a respectful, levelheaded tone. "It's been a really intense couple of days just trying to stay on top of everything."

Harry nodded in understanding, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. "Thomason hasn't let up on you at all, I take it?" 

When you shook your head ruefully, he chuckled. "I know that seems like his permanent state - gruff, perpetually unsatisfied, and grumpy as a hibernating bear. But honestly, the fact that he hasn't fired you already is a good sign you're doing well."

You blinked at him in surprise. "Wait...really? But he critiques everything! I feel like I've gotten nothing but corrections so far."

"Exactly." Harry's dimples flashed as he grinned. "That's how you know he sees potential in you. If Thomason didn't think you had what it took, he wouldn't waste his breath giving feedback. He'd just cut you loose and hire someone else to start over."

His words were like a soothing balm on the anxiety and self-doubt you'd been carrying around for the past couple of days. You hadn't realized that Thomason's critical approach was actually a twisted form of acceptance and mentorship. The revelation caused the hard knot of tension between your shoulder blades to finally release.

"Huh," you exhaled, unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips as you finally understood Thomason's tough love. "I guess I should take that as a compliment then."

"Absolutely," Harry agreed with an approving nod. Then his expression softened around the edges, growing earnest as his gaze searched yours. "Look, I know it's a huge adjustment and the pace here can be absolutely brutal starting out. But for what it's worth...I think you've got what it takes to be something really special in this kitchen."

You felt yourself flush at his unexpected praise, your stomach fluttering with a swarm of nervous butterflies. Harry held your eyes for a lingering moment before seeming to mentally collect himself.

Clearing his throat, he flashed you one more crooked grin. "But don't take my word for it - the proof will be in your work. Stay focused and trust the process. I've got faith you can handle it."

With that, he brushed past you, his shoulder grazing yours in a way that made your entire body buzz with friction. As Harry sauntered off down the hallway, you couldn't stop yourself from turning to watch his retreating form - the easy, rolling gait, the tantalizing sway of his hips below the slim cut of his trousers, the tousled waves of his chestnut hair.

You let out a shaky exhale, feeling off-balance and electrified all at once. Get a grip, you scolded yourself firmly. That was your boss - your incredibly famous, wealthy, and wildly attractive boss. Daydreaming was a one-way ticket to catching inappropriate feelings and potentially torpedoing your entire career before it even started.

And yet...you couldn't quite silence the part of your brain reliving Harry's velvet tone and intense eye contact as he professed having faith in your abilities. Just the casual warmth of his voice and proximity had set your heart pounding in a way it hadn't since you were a hormonal teenager, utterly dazzled by his rock star persona.

Shaking your head, you forced yourself to turn on your heel and head for the exit. Overthinking could only lead to dangerous territory. You needed to stay laser-focused on your work - that was the only way to succeed at Haus and make your culinary dreams a reality.

As you stepped out into the fresh evening air, you paused for a moment on the deserted back stoop, closing your eyes and taking a few centering breaths. When you opened them again, you felt the last fluttering tendrils of Harry's heated presence dissipate, replaced by a familiar sense of determined calm.

This job was your priority now, not silly schoolgirl crushes or indulging fantasies about your wildly unattainable boss. You knew better than to get distracted by daydreams that could only lead to self-sabotage. 

With a decisive nod, you strode towards your car with renewed focus. You would prove yourself at Haus through your skills and work ethic alone. No other agenda, no unprofessional entanglements allowed. 

Your passion was cuisine, creating nourishing dishes that delighted - that had to remain your sole priority. You couldn't afford any distractions from that lest you squander this incredible opportunity. Steadying your breathing, you looked forward with fresh clarity and resolve.

Tomorrow was a new day to earn your place in Harry's formidable kitchen. And this time, you vowed, you were utterly prepared to meet the challenge with your complete and undivided focus.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

tell me if you like this! this is an idea for a new series that will probably have 6 parts??? i guess. but do tell me if you like it! because there's no use in writing when nobody reads 😭😭

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[tarjapearce]

Bad Teachings Pt. 2

College Proffesor AU! Miguel x fem!Reader

Warning: Smut, slight fluff

Hope you like c: Pt 3

It's been almost two years ever since you graduated college, two years since you last time saw Mr. O'Hara and kept in touch with him. To starters, you were pretty sure that making an advance on him after he had realigned your guts in his car and you gave him a blowjob in his classroom previous to the graduation ceremony, would only bring him trouble.

And now, a year and ten months later you had to 'integrate yourself to the proactive and laboral society' or so your parents always repeated. Thankfully enough, due your merits you had landed a not so shitty job in the branding consulting field.

The perks of your job were flexible schedules and some little luxuries like a place in a relatively good area, and finally, a car.

You often browsed through social media to check on your old class mates. Some got married, others moved from the country and others just stuck to themselves. Even though it was unlikely, you had searched Miguel, but he never showed up. Given the man's workaholic nature, it made sense for him to not have social media.

Wich kinda sucked since you had lost valuable contacts, including his. Not that you often talked though, a few how are yous here and there, and in the rare occasions, the conversations turned spicy and thigh clenching.

You went back to work.

-----

Adult life was often boring, in fact, that you were grocery shopping for the week had turned boring. The only thing sparking your interest was a new cereal brand on the top shelf, your fingers barely reaching them. You stopped however as a big hand hovered over you and grabbed the cereal like it was nothing.

"Thanks"

"Who said it was for you?"

A chill ran down your spine as you looked at none other than Miguel O'Hara cocking an eyebrow your way with a slight smirk.

"M-Mr. O'Hara! Hi. Uh... Hi."

"(Name)" He gave a brief acknowledge to you as he put some packaged-gourmet looking coffee on his cart.

"It's been a while. How do you do, sir?"

"Sir? What am I? Sixty?"

"At all, just-"

"Then fucking call me Miguel."

"It's really weird for me to say your name so casually."

He rolled his eyes and moved to get coffee filters.

"Thought you found a better chatting partner"

You stood there unable to comprehend his words right away, they weren't precisely tender, but they held a bit of a grudge. Finally your brain alighted with the idea of what he had meant.

"No, no. I was robbed actually, and lost a bunch of data, your contact included."

He stared your way, unwavering as you offered a small smile.

"Make it up, then... Unless you are seeing someone?"

"No!" You almost shouted and quieted down as some people in the back looked at your way.

"Sorry. I mean no. Im not seeing anyone. What about you?"

"Maybe you, at seven on saturday. "

Your cheeks burned at how casual he was acting. You had caged him in the teacher box for so long anything outside of it was odd, yet fascinating.

"Alright."

"Pásame tu teléfono*"

"What?"

"Give me your phone."

"Oh, right."

You handed your smartphone at him as he called his own number, registering both you and himself on each other's devices.

"I'll let you know if anything else shows up."

"Sure, I'll bring a gift."

He chuckled and shrugged

" If you want to. Not needed though. At 7 pm" ,

Nodding, you watched him leave, realizing he actually had put the cereal box in your cart.

-------

The rest of the week was torture, in every little chance you had, you checked your phone to see it was empty, you didn't even discuss where you'd meet or the dress code. You could surprise him, but the idea of being dressed inappropriately would just embarrass you.

Hi, sorry to just butt in. I wanna know though, do I need a dress code?

It took a long of 20 minutes for him to reply.

No

It was a simple yet not so mortifying reply. Even so you the urge of surprising him felt stronger. He was giving you, without realizing, the chance to make an impression on him.

-----

You went for a short, skin tight, black, thin strapped, heart shaped uppercut dress, black stilettos, natural looking makeup and a blown out hair. The stilettos made a show of your silky-feeling legs, you were all dolled up, quite literally.

Around 6:20 you got a text message from Miguel, he had shared his location to you. You had bought a good quality wine, something he might like. Or so you hoped. Giving a last look and some bit of  perfume, you went out the door and drove off to his place.

------

You couldn't help but feel a nervous wreck as you approached the apartment building. Nothing too fancy, but a good looking place in a good neighbor, you entered the elevator, earning some glances your way.

Fourth floor, apartment 5.

You had arrived right on time, so you knocked the door as you straightened any lump in your dress. His steps approached and you gulped, finally he opened the door. His behemoth of frame covering up the entrance.

"Hey" You smiled nervously as he raked you from head to toes with his eyes, subtly.

"Too much?"

He smirked at your hesitation and let you in, closing the door after you. If it wasn't for a a couple of boxes scattered around the place would look even more amazing. It was only a place you could afford if you worked for big companies.

"Got us some wine. Hope you enjoy." He took the bottle of your hands and pulled you in for a deep kiss. Your sweet perfume only added a little spark to his senses.

"Pinche morra toda preciosa*" He mumbled as he slapped your ass gently and motioned you to follow him to the kitchen, bottle in wine on hand. Obeying, you followed and he opened the seat for you.

"Thanks, Miguel."

He wore a white button shirt, rolled up to the sleeves, revealing his strong forearms. Dress pants, black shoes and a belt. The belt only accentuated his upper frame, you gulped at the sight of him, serving two plates of pasta to then sprinkle some cheese on top.

He then returned and offered you a plate. You could only stare at him, awestruck. He sat next to you and opened the bottle of your wine

"What?"

"Nothing, just..." He poured two cups of wine and removed his glasses off his face. How could you have missed them?

"Nice place, great cook, good looking." He chuckled as you sipped the wine, "Can't believe someone like you invited me over."

"Someone like me? What's that supposed to mean?"

"Ah never mind me. Im just rambling. Are you still teaching?"

"Not really. Just a consultant now. Teaching is good, but it pays shit. Had to go back to my old job."

"And that is?" You finally ate a forkful of pasta. Humming in approval.

"Genetic Engineering."

"Well, shit. Is there anything else I should know?"

"You surely did dress up for this. Or for me?"

"Both." You nodded softly and he followed.

"Maybe next time I should be more specific with the dress code and make sure you aren't bringing your panties with you."

"Who says I am wearing them?"

His eyes turned darker as he took your hand to kiss it softly.

"You sure you wanna play that game, princesa?"

"Isn't that what you invited me over for?"

"Maybe. Maybe Not. Who knows" he smirked and took a hold of, your chin softly, "Eat up, you'll need it."

"What if I'm actually hungry for something else?"

"As much as I'd love to just rip that dress off, I want you to enjoy first, we've got a whole night ahead."

-----

For some reason your head was barely getting a grip on it. Miguel O'Hara, retired college professor, now a genetic engineer, was being an absolute gentleman with you even though he had stated his intentions also. You didn't know if to just run away out of cowardy at someone actually giving you a good non sexual time or hope you could outlast him during the night, or at least hope to endure.

You didn't know if he actually was just lonely since he asked about you, what did you do after college, how your robbing happened and the like. But of course, it could only last for so long.

He removed your shoes and kissed your ankles, and inner thighs, but stopped before he could reach to his favorite place to dive in his head

"Come here, sweetie." He pulled you off the couch and embraced snugly your body as his hands roamed your body with need. He groaned upon touching the bare skin of your ass.

"You smell so good" He kissed you once more as he hoisted you by your legs, to wrap them around him, all with his lips still devouring yours. He had you groaning with a roll of his hips as he pressed you against the wall. His mouth leaving you to assault the tender and sensitive flesh of your neck.

His clothed erection rubbed against your moistening folds. Friction making your whole nerves to react, your toes curled, your nipples perked as they rubbed against his chest. He smelled just like you remembered, a sweet and earthy tinge of cologne and a bit musky.

His hands grope your glutes as he kept grinding his hips against yours.

"Miguel" You whimpered his name and he pulled you by the neck to kiss you. Your hips rolled against his, not wasting up a single movement to feel everything. His hands held a handful of your ass while he softly bit your neck and clawed at the plumpness of your ass. It made you squirm and gasp as he rubbed harder.

Shallow breaths, pressure rising as your legs trapped him as closely as you could. His arms held you, preventing your fall, his lips were drowning any weak and shaky moan. He then placed you on the bed, but you immediately straddled him.

"Let me return the favor"

Smirking, your hands unbuckled his belt, he just watched you struggling to tug his pants off, before pulling them down, along the boxers, releasing his girth to you.

Licking your lips, you kneeled before him, and soon, dragged your tongue from the base to the flushed tip. A low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands immediately went to hold your hair, as his other one held the base of his shaft, to slowly and surely feeding his cock to you.

Your tongue swirled before taking the whole tip inside. His body shuddered

"Just like that, mi amor." His hips bucked, pushing an inch deeper into your mouth. You began bobbing your head up and down, feeding yourself after he slapped his tip against your flattened tongue. He then used both hands to hold your hair and head in place as he slowly moved upwards, his hips inside your warm and moist plush lips.

Streaks of pre cum, dribbled down your chin as he kept slowly fucking your mouth. Your jaw muscles relaxed enough to allow him an inch more, but just as you were about to deep throat him, he pulled himself out and pulled you by the hair for a kiss. It was sloppy, but passionate.

He removed the dress, revealing your naked body underneath. Then wiped your chin carefully

"Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces." He mumbled to your ear huskily

"I don't know what you're saying" you giggled as he slapped your ass once more.

He turned you around and placed you in all fours. Admiring the smoothness and dips of your curves. He removed the remaining of his clothes and draped in the curtains of his room, leaving the place dimly lit.

He placed a hand on your hip and gave a few strokes to your slit with his tongue while cooing how good you tasted for him. Slowly he pushed a finger inside you, giving gentle strokes. Your hands held his sheets tighter. Soon another finger was added and you pushed your hips to make his fingers go deeper.

"Such an eager baby" he tapped your ass and chuckled, "Relax"

He brought his slicked fingers to his lips and soon, pumped himself a couple of times to slowly fill you, as you clenched around him.

"You ok?" You sighed and nodded shakily.

"It's been a while" his hands gently caressed your hips before his pushed in softly. Gasping at the intrusion, he started off slowly as he peppered your neck and cheeks in kisses, his hands massaged and squeezed with care, your breast.

"So so beautiful." he cooed before thrusting his hips a bit harder, seeing your mouth contort in pure lust. He kissed you once more, before holding your hips in place, with a swift roll, he pushed all the way in, in one go, earning him a sweet whimper from you.

The bed creaked as he slapped his hips, slowly ascending to a rougher pace. You wailing his name, as your cunt welcomed him with a wet squelch was everything he needed. There was something about you taking him so well that made him go feral.

Your face and chest were pushed flat against the cushioned surface, ass high for him, he separated a bit further your legs before his hips began slapping your flesh, mercilessly. And god you loved it.

Your body shook with every deep thrust he did, mouth agape, moaning shamelessly. Your hair was pulled, his nails dragged down your spine before his hands slapped your ass.

The pressure began bubbling in the lowest of your pit, he could tell by how your inner walls began clenching and gripping him. He then brought you closer, your back collided against his sturdy chest, giving him a tighter and deeper angle inside you.

His arms held you in place as you scratched and dug your nails on him.

"You're such a good girl, princesa. So so good" he cooed as he cupped your pussy and toyed with your clit in slow motions

The new sensation was only added to the many you were already experiencing. Breathless, so ever tight around him, as his arms secured you in place while being pounded with such abandonment. Smirking, he trusted harder and harder, but stopped just before you were thrown in the bliss searing abyss.

You whined in frustration, as you tried to find relief on your own.

"Uh uh. Don't be bad."

"Please..." You heaved and put his hands on your body

"Please what?"

"Let me fucking cum, Miguel."

"Jesus..." He groaned and kissed your neck before resuming his rutting inside you. The pressure simmered as you were pushed in the brink of breaking once more.

His hot breath against your flushed skin, his hands holding you with such possessiveness as he whispered sweet nothings to your ear, was the perfect combination for you to snap.

Shaking and nearly convulsing at the hot white pleasure that flooded your system.

"Miguel!" you spoke his name in between gritted teeth

"There you go" he cooed and smiled. Despite your insides having a death grip around him, your pleasure was his priority. You felt so good and small, it tugged on the dark strings on his self control.

Your skin was flushed, covered by a thin layer of sweat. He turned you around and pulled you by your legs towards him. A hand was placed in your abdomen as he prodded in two fingers, plunging them deep enough to graze at that already sensitive spot.

Your toes curled in as he moved them dexterously inside your already sopping folds.

Faster, harder, faster and harder. In that order.

"Oh my god" you sobbed as the sheets crumpled under your touch, toes curling in as a new orgasm was ripped out of you with a wet gush on his hand and forearm. He groaned as you squirted.

"That's the sexiest shit I've seen you doing, preciosa."

You could only moan in return as he filled you up once more

"Hold on tight" Your legs were hoisted on his arms as he gathered you, your arms went around his neck, anchoring to his broad shoulders and he lifted you up with ease. His arms locking on your back as you bounced on his cock.

"Fuck!" you gasped at the new depth his tip reached inside, and each thrust only dug him deeper inside you, feeling completely full of him.

"Cómo me encantas" he breathed through soft growls, that were drowned by the obscene, continuous and wet slapping of flesh. Unable to mumble any coherent word. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, eyes heavy with overstimulation as the merciless slapping continued and your body bounced.

You clung to his body as if your life depended on it. Your nails scratched the top of his  back, creating red welts on his skin that only urged him to a whole new level of roughness you hadn't expected. His groans drowned your pathetic cries as your body shook with each thrust.

"Too much" you croaked in between deep pants as the pressure scrapped you raw. Eyes far too lost for him to reach, his control over you unwavering. Pleasure slowly chipped away his body, you closed your eyes as a breathless mewl announced your brewing of a next peak.

He inhaled sharply as his hips stopped for a moment, to then resume as you were propped against the wall. His muscles flexed as he fucked you in the way he knew you loved it, too pussy drunk to stop.

Your peak was shattering, almost splitting your mind in two, as you gushed all over his cock and lower abdomen, supple thighs squeezing his waist. He hissed at your clawing, as he spurted inside. Painting your walls white and hot.

"Mine" he growled. There was an acute whimper on his behalf as he tried to keep standing as his load was out inside you. He rushed to the bed and laid you on it.

His chest swelled in pride as it heaved.

"Such a good girl." He laid next to you, your head cradled closer, just like your body, he made one of your thighs to hook on his waist as he slowly entered you one more time.

You stirred and his arm snaked around your torso. He shushed you as he delivered slow strokes with his cock inside you. Your hands rested on his chest and your head on his arm, using it as a pillow.

"Toda para mí" He pushed his hips in languid, slow strokes, pulling soft mewls out your limp body. Your plush folds welcomed him with a soft suckling motion as he pushed all his seeping cum back in.

"I-I can't" you breathed as his hand pressed you closer

"Of course you can, corazón. One more."

"Miguel" you whimpered in despair. Not that you could move anyways, his lips kissed your temple as he rode you to bliss one more time.

----

You woke up in Miguel's bed, tangled up in sheets, sore and thirsty. Your phone buzzed with some texts from work. You stood and covered up in one of the sheets. The smell of food lingered in the air as your stomach grumbled in protest

"Miguel?"

"C'mon." he motioned you from the kitchen, you followed and sat on the table. He wore nothing but some sweatpants and his slippers

"Buenos días, guapa."

"Morning?" you smiled softly at your best guess of what he just said

"Sorry for... you know, uh, staying."

"It's fine. I was counting on it, anyways."

He served you a bit of a hearty looking meal. Chilaquiles with two fried eggs on top .

"Thank you."

He sat next to you and ate. You followed. Eating was quiet, but comfortable enough.

"I'll do the dishes" you stood and picked up after the both. He smiled softly, almost contemplating you from behind

"You should bring extra clothes next time."

Next time

"Might do, yeah." your cheeks flared up and you finished cleaning and went to his room, your clothes had been gathered on a chair, neatly.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

You quickly showered and changed, Miguel just watched you from afar.

"I shall go then."

"What? No kiss goodbye? So cold." He feigned hurt and you couldn't help but laugh. Then you kissed his cheek.

"Nah. Despídete bien." He pulled you closer for a deep kiss and smirked once you were at the door.

"Thank you, for everything. It was wonderful."

"Of course it was." he slapped your butt as you went out the door.

"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta."

"What?"

"Bye bye, preciosa."

You pursed your lips and shook your head softly, he just chuckled and you left. Your kiss still lingering in the air.

-------

*Pinche morra toda preciosa - Such a fucking gorgeous girl.

*Me encantas. Puta madre, no sabes lo que me haces -I love it. Holy shit, you don't know what you do to me.

*Cómo me encantas - God, I love you. (Mind you, this love is not the same as love love.)

*Toda para mí - All for me.

*Buenos días, guapa - Good morning, gorgeous

*Despídete bien - Say goodbye properly

*"Mejor vete antes de que me arrepienta - You better go before I regret it.

Taglist: <3

@averagefloydlover @mouse-teagreat @4rlybm @cosmoscoffeee @wanderlustingcastaway @allysunny @noblesavagex @miggyoharaswife

[twirlingsmilingwriting]

Tolerate it || Young!Coriolanus Snow X Reader

"I sit and watch you reading with your... head low"

Truly feeling like the luckiest person alive when your former classmate and short term boyfriend asked you to marry him. Not even a year into the marriage and also a year into his presidency does the original love and admiration you felt from him start to dissipate. You can't help but feel trapped and tricked into a marriage in which he may have never loved you to begin with. Warnings: Angst, Love-Bombing, marriage, gender ambiguous reader, typical snow tags (manipulation), social isolation, alluding to sexual acts but not described, kissing Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: I was listening to Evermore after watching tbosas and Tolerate It was just SCREAMING Snow vibes. I was fidgeting with the gold charm of my pearl necklace while anxiously looking over at my husband whose nose was too deep into a book to seem to care about me. I dropped my gaze from him to scan across the table and room. Our large dining room was red with gold accent pieces I had spent the morning dusting decorating the walls. We both sat at opposite ends of the long table, ever too long to just seat two people but it seemed the man couldn't do anything at home if he was within five feet of me. A bouquet of roses I placed in a ceramic vase sat between us on the table. He loved roses, he always did, so I placed them there to brighten his day and maybe even spark up conversation between us. I polished the plates we ate on delicately and even spent the afternoon painting designs onto the back of them. I had done all this in hopes I'd receive some sort of compliment from him but alas, there was none. I sat back and reminisced on the days of our love before it was like this. Truly, when I had first married Coriolanus I had felt like my life had started a new chapter. We dated in the spring and summer time of the year after we graduated from the academy. He was top of the class and while I never matched him in intelligence he had seemingly randomly taken a liking to me. We were acquaintances at most before that and then he started talking to me any chance he could get. I would gush to my friends about his charming smile and posture and they would warn me of the rumors that went around about him. They would tell me to never get to close to him as all those who got did would end up disgraced, missing, or dead. In some masochistic way, I truly felt enthralled by his magnetic aura, danger, and the mystery that surrounded him. His bright red coat was as red as the flags that man was but the danger of it all excited me. He wasn't the nicest man out there but when he was nice to me, I felt unique. I was the exception to his coldness.

We'd go out on dates and he would shower me with sweet nothings. He would tell me how I was the light that lit up the darkness of his life. He said my beauty could turn a man to stone. I will never forget the way he kissed me on the busiest street in the capital under the dancing streetlights and how I felt like time had stopped in that moment. The way he stroked the side of my face so delicately and told me I was the only one who had ever made him feel so alive. I was holding onto every breath that man had exhaled hoping he'd inhale me further into his life. We'd spend days together and call at night. I didn't notice it at the time but in retrospect it was tactical. I spent every moment of my waking days with him and soon my life started to be built around him. Every phone call from a friend I received that spoke about him in any negative way made me push them away and out of my life even further. He was the only one I talked to. He is my world. We were two seeds that had gotten dropped into the same pot and were growing into each other.

In the fall, I fell for him harder than I ever had before. It came to a height when we were walking through a park and watched as the changing leaves fell from the trees. He held my hand in his and he held me so tight as if he was afraid I'd float away and leave him. I would never of course, my life would bend to his will. My head rested against his arm like the red coat he always wore. He'd recount to me stories of his life that would make me laugh and smile. His strikingly blonde hair blew in the wind softly and I noticed every detail of how his icy blue eyes would crinkle when he'd smile at me. He was like a beautiful painting whose artist was unknown. I remember thinking that all I would ever want to be in this life is as significant to him as he is to me. I remember the earth shattering halt my heart felt when he turned to me and dropped down to one knee and proposed. A smirk plastered his face when I said yes. He stood back up and pulled me in by the waist. One hand on my chin and the other on my lower back. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on mine and the feeling of his hair tangled between my fingers. I remember the ecstasy of the moment and the feeling that my friends were wrong, the world was wrong, no one knew Coriolanus like I knew him. He wasn't a cold, calculated, and constantly plotting man, he was just misunderstood. When he pulled away from the kiss, he whispered in my ear that he would live a thousand life times if it meant he got to love me in the next. I remembered everything.

That was the first night we spent together. He snuck me into his house and we giggled in his bedroom when he shut the door. We told each other secrets and moved the furniture so we could dance. My head was placed onto his chest and we swayed to the sound of the music playing from his grandmothers record player. We shared moments of passion in his bed, fell asleep in each others arms, and woke up tangled in bed sheets. I remember thinking he was truly mine.

We married shortly after in the beginning of December. The ceremony was lavish and beautiful. I remember the way his fingers tucked my hair behind my ear. A single tear fell from his eyes and he leaned in and kissed me. He must've been so taken aback from my beauty as I was with his. Only one of my friends attended the wedding but I was too happy that I was marrying the man of my dreams to care. The first weeks of our married life were wondrous. He had risen to power and we had moved into the absolute gargantuan mansion we live in today. He couldn't seem to keep his hands off me and I was the diamond of his eyes. He loved to show me off for the cameras and crowds. Then one day, winter came and roses don't survive.

It started off small. He didn't want to talk or cuddle in bed at night anymore. I assumed he was just tired from working so hard. Then he stopped complimenting my outfits or hair, trading them with passive aggressive comments and ways I could improve myself for him. He no longer wanted to talk at dinner. We stopped speaking at some point. He wouldn't want to hear my voice unless it was to service him. In public, he still was my adoring husband but in private, I felt like I was living with a stranger. At night, I can hear him whispering sweet nothings to the air and humming melodies and I can only hope he's dreaming about me.

These days, I haven't been sleeping, I've been trying to listen in and see if I can make out the words he is saying in his sleep but I haven't been able to make out any other words than lines about trees. While he is having his meetings all day, I am constantly doing new diets, trying new makeup, new hair, decorating the house differently, leaving loving notes on his desk, anything to try and earn a compliment from him. Even if a compliment is too much, I am begging for a word from that man. I love him. I still love him. I don't believe it is possible for me to stop loving him. I can't dare to think of loving any one else. He is so much wiser, and smarter, and more beautiful than I am and I find myself becoming the moon to his earth. I spin around him, pulled in by his orbit except, I'm not his moon. I'm just a star in his sky that is begging to be his sun. I just want a footnote in the story of his life. Even an annotation on a page of his story will be enough for me.

The sound of him placing his heavy book onto the table pulled me out of my trance and my eyes met his blue ones once more. Instantly, I am struck frozen. His eyes had such a way of pulling you in. I looked down at his lips as they pressed a small smirk and his eyes squinted a little while he picked up his fork from the table and looked at me. He examined my appearance and I sat up straighter. The thick tension in the air put me on edge. Finally, his lips parted and he spoke.

"Is that a new hair color?" he asked, keeping his eyes laser focused on me.

"It is... d- do you like it?" He looked me over again and leaned back in his chair contemplating what to say next. Then, shortly, sweetly, and sharply, he muttered the word,

"Tolerable"

~

PART TWO PART THREE

[queenie-avenue]

There's no solution for whatever this was.

💌 ⤻ THE ACADEMIC RIVAL, SEO MIN-JUN

—> when you come crashing into his life, his focus for his studies are lost.

⤻ reader is gender neutral, reader's race is not mentioned but it does take place in korea, stalking, obsession, slightly suggestive, possessiveness, stealing, damage to personal, slightly suggestive, property, encouraging suicide, mentions of academic stress and korea's expectation for its students, inspired by @moyazaika 's academic rival yandere (go check the fic out, it's amazing), a drabble for now but I will be posting longer fics of him

🦋 ⤻ archives.

In Korea, students are shown to be almost always studying. Many news outlets have covered multiple schools and how much pressure Korean students are going through with their studies. It's difficult, no one can deny it. Yet, some of these students just find it normal, they view studying as perhaps their only form of control they have in their world.

One of those such students is Seo Min-Jun, a student belonging to a prestigious private high school. Someone who is in his final year of high school, soon to graduate and take his university exams. Top of his class, the son to a minister in Korea's government and a rather popular film actress, and the president of the student council. He was destined for success once he graduated.

The moment he crawled out of his mother's womb, his fate was paved for him in gold.

That was, until you — the sweet scholarship student — showed up.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

At first, he didn't understand you. Both of you were literally in your last year of school, but you waltzed in like you owned the place. At least, from his perspective. He thought you bland. After all, you got in from a scholarship. You may be smart, but were you as rich, or was your status in society as high as him? It didn't matter, he still viewed you as below him and didn't pay much attention to you, relegating his secretary in the student council to give you a tour of the elite private school that you should honestly be honoured to step your grimy shoes all over.

Sure, he'd never say these things out to you or anyone else in public. After all, he was still a model student, and he was taught to act humble. Key word: act.

He honestly didn't take an interest in you till he saw your name, above his, on the monthly test evaluations.

"What?" He muttered out, not believing his eyes. In almost every damn subject, you managed to score higher than him. He was almost always one mark off from you. His eyes shot to you, the you who stood there in your crisp and cut uniform on the other side of the crowd, looking up at the papers pressed onto the walls with a look of pride. What was that look of pride for?

Pride, something that existed strongly in almost every culture, and you had just ruined his.

Your life was never the same afterwards.

Letters of hatred piled in your shoe locker. They ranged from being written like some crazed man worshipping your feet like you were a god to someone who wanted to see you hop off the building of your school. The handwriting was typically crazed, but you could recognise whose handwriting it was solely because the both of you were in the same class.

As usual, the school board did nothing to help with that. And when you tried to accuse Min-Jun, the teachers especially scolded you for attempting to defame the student council president.

It got so bad that your things were going missing too, your homework — which the teachers unreasonably scolded you for even if you were user sure you placed it in your bag this morning — and then your notes too. Technically, they did return. They just returned torn up, and some were even burnt with mysterious stains on them.

One day, you couldn't take it anymore after receiving a death threat, and you stormed to the student council office, knowing that if you went to the general office, they'd turn you away again.

You would take matters into your own hands.

✧ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ✧

When Min-Jun first saw you enter the room, he was left breathless. Your blushed cheeks from running all the way here, no doubt, the way your uniform crumpled, his mouth was almost drooling. No, no. He refused to let himself lust over you in such a manner that you were a rival, for goodness sake! Not some... potential love interest. Though that thought did pique his interest but he pushed it down with any other thoughts he had about his rival.

"I can't take it anymore." You said, which shocked him. Was someone bullying you? Only he could do that! "I know it's you. I've seen your handwriting on tests before, I just know you're the one who's been planting those notes and stealing my things." You accused your one-sided academic rival.

He didn't bother to defend himself. What was the point? His family would protect him, the school would protect him, and most importantly, the student body would rip them to shreds if they ever tried to act out against him. He knew how cruel students could be. After all, he had seen all the outcasts almost drowned inside toilet bowls by bullies multiple times.

He could not have that. Having you tortured would mean he would not be able to have a proper rival. As much as he disliked you for being in his way, he preferred to keep things... somewhat fair.

"And your proof?" He inquired.

"I have all those notes stored in my bag." You hissed.

For some reason, the thought of you keeping those notes made his heart beat faster. Were you a freak like him too? Did you have such sinful thoughts just like him? You broke his twisted fantasy with your next words, though.

"I don't understand why you're doing this to me. It's- it's," you struggled to find a word for his disturbing actions, "ceaselessly cruel!" You finally exclaimed.

Cruel? What was cruel were your actions, driving him mad, making him lose focus on his work. Who were you to call him cruel when you made him like this?

He got up from his seat and approached you, causing you to fall back, landing on the couch that you swore was not there when the entered the student council room. Taking this chance, he pinned you against the seat, taking in every part of your body, your face, your eyes... everything. God, you were so perfect but so infuriating. Just why did you have to confront him?

"Are you that fucking naive to think that when you present the school with your proof, they'll do anything about it for you? That they'll go against me and my family for the sake of defending the poor scholarship student?" He hissed, grabbing your face harshly as you whimpered. He wished the circumstances of your whimpers were different; in his bed rather than on the couch of the student council office. Still, that did breed intriguing fantasies into his mind. "You think they'll do that for you?" He repeated.

"I-" you started, but you had no idea how to end.

"Exactly." He let go of you, almost smacking your head to the other side as he straightened himself, readjusting the blazer of his uniform.

"You should get used to the circumstances of your situation." He said which only made you shudder. "Let yourself out." He said cooly as he exited the student council room, "I trust you'll keep this meeting a secret." He said with an air of finality before sauntering casually towards the male bathrooms where he promptly slammed the door shut and sat on the toilet seat, practically fuming.

That look on your face, the scrunch of your nose, the furrowing of your eyebrows. You were so unfair! He could practically feel all his blood flush downwards as he thought of you.

Now that you knew he was the culprit, what would you do?

It didn't matter.

He would find ways to pester you and find ways to mark you as someone who could not be touched by anyone else other than him.

"I left another note in your bag. You should look at it. Or else."

[really-fanny-longbottom]

THE THINGS WE DO FOR LOVE

Pairings: Helion x Reader (platonic); Inner Circle x Reader (platonic)

Summary: Secrets can never be kept for long. Eventually, the truth always comes out, and so do the consequences of it.

Warnings: Mentions of blood/pregnancy/birth/fight/death (nothing too descriptive); there's a flashback scene in the middle.

Words: 7.6k

Author's Note: Hi! So I started writing, and this is what came out (kinda of what happened with 'Never Yours'). I'm exploring my writing at the moment, and that's why this got so long, but I like how this turned out, and I hope you guys do too. Enjoy!

You are a scholar from Day Court. But you are not just a simple scholar - you are the best.  

You were known for graduating at the top of your class and for your impeccable reputation of never failing a project and never leaving a question unanswered.

You have always been a very curious person, and the fact that you grew up in Day Court gave you the privilege of having access to the best libraries with the best books in Prythian.

That's why books were your life and the fact you liked to have an answer for everything, even though Helion called you a know-it-all from time to time, and even if that irritated you a little, it was true.

Whenever a question arose that you didn't know the answer to, you made it your personal mission to find one. 

Even if it meant having to read dozens, if not hundreds of books, but that part you never care about. Besides, the libraries were your favorite places, especially the one near the pegasus stables.

The only thing you liked more than books was pegasus. You thought they were the most magnificent creatures your eyes had ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Your favorite was Meallan, who was also Helion's favorite. It was with him that you learned to ride a pegasus, and he was your favorite partner to fly and enjoy the sky.

Besides being curious, you were also a very adventurous person, and it was your sense of adventure that got you into trouble. 

One day, you decided that it would be a great day to combine the two things you love most in this world - books and pegasus.  

So you tried flying with Meallan while reading one of your romance books, only to get distracted when the scenery in the book started to heat up and lose your balance.

Your luck? Meallan wasn't flying very high when it happened.  

Your bad luck? A broken leg and a very big and angry lecture from Helion.

When he heard what you did, he banned you from flying with Meallan or any of the other pegasus again for months.

Which led you to focus on books again for a while, which helped a lot during your recovery.

Your reputation caught Rhysand's attention.

The High Lord of the Night Court was in the middle of researching the Cauldron. Rumors about Hybern being in search of him for a new war had reached his ears, and as all High Lords should, he began to prepare for war but the truth is that his library could not be compared with those at Day Court.

Even with the help of the priestesses, he was unable to find almost anything. That's where you entered the equation.

During a meeting between the Night Court and Day Court at Helion's Palace, Rhys mentioned your name.

Helion wasn't surprised. He knew very well what you were capable of, and at that moment, he couldn't hide the pride he felt for you. 

He knew what Rhysand was about to ask of him. He wanted you to join him and his Inner Circle in Velaris and help with the research, and if possible, bring some books from your Court on the subject for them to read as well.

Helion had no problem with you helping them, afterall Rhys was one of his longest friends. 

The only thing he didn't like was putting you in the enemy's attention. If Hybern found out, you'd have a target on your back.

Helion explained his worries to Rhys and his Inner Circle that were seated beside him.

He explained to them how you were not just another citizen of his Court. 

You were important and very close to him. He told them how your mother was one of his best friends for centuries, and when she died, he took you under his care.

The Night Court assured him that they would treat you like family and that they would not let anything bad happen to you.

Before Helion could respond, your voice filled the conference room, “I’ll do it.”

All the heads turned in your direction, Helion leaned back in his chair and ran a hand over his face. "How many times do I have to tell you not to eavesdrop?"

With an innocent smile, you replied, "I wasn't eavesdropping. I was passing by, and I heard my name."

"Really? You were just passing by?" Helion didn't believe you for a second.

The Inner Circle watched the scene unfold in front of them with amusement in their faces.

"Hum hum" was your response.

Helion interlaced his hands and with an amused look - one that you knew very well and that meant he was about to corner you - "And where were you going, if I may ask?"

"I...Hum, I..." You paused to think. "Ah, I was going to the kitchen. Yes, that's where I was going." You finished with pride.

Helion chuckled. "The same kitchen that is on the other side of the palace, and you can't access it from this floor?"

Your smile fell, and you realized you had been caught. 

He was right, this floor was for political purposes only - Helion's office, the conference room they were in now, an armament room and the map room which was mainly used by Helion's General and his soldiers.

Everyone tried to contain their laughter at your expression and when you tried to come up with a quick response and couldn't, you decided to admit defeat "Okay, okay, I wasn't just passing by. What do you want me to say? You know I'm curious."

"Indeed, I do." He gave you a smile. Raising from his seat, he gestured for you to approach him, and when you did, he wrapped you in a side hug. "Y/N, meet the Inner Circle." 

You couldn't help but linger your gaze on the Shadowsinger. He was stupidly handsome, and no one should look that good. 

The laughter caught your attention, and when you looked at them, you noticed that everyone was smiling except Helion. 

Realizing what just happened, you said, "Shit. Did I just say that out loud?" A hand coming to cover your mouth that was starting to form into a nervous smile.

"Unfortunately." Helion replied with a roll of his eyes.

Another thing you were also, besides being curious and adventurous - is being honest. You are not, and you have never been afraid to say what you think and be direct about it. 

Helion has always really liked that trait of yours but not at the moment, especially when you're using it to flirt with the male in front of you.

"Okay, enough." He averted his gaze to Azriel. "Stop looking at her like that before I regret all of this." The Shadowsinger raised his hand in surrender with a smile.

Helion released a sigh before looking at you. "Are you sure about this? You don't have to do it if you don't want to."

You gave him an assured smile. "I'm sure. I can do this. Besides, it's what I was trained for, right?" That led you to another thought. "Oh, can you train me while I'm there?" You asked the General. 

Cassian was surprised by the question. No one ever asked him to train them before, and if they did, it wouldn't be a female. That made him happy, so he had no problem in saying, "Of course." 

"Awesome. I'm going to pack my things." You said with one last smile before exiting the room. 

"Alright. Rhys, I'm trusting you, all of you, with her. So... don't fuck this up, unless you would like to see me angry." Helion warned them with his High Lord voice.

Rhys giggled at his words but he knew the male meant every single one "We won't."

Helion turned his attention to Cassian. "Oh, and Cassian? Be careful when you eventually put a weapon on her hands. She's a little curious and clumsy even though she never lost or ruined a book, which is kinda a surprise, actually."

Cassian laughed, "It can't be that bad."

Helion also laughed before telling them one of your many stories "I once tried to teach her archery because she was interested and when I was teaching her how to shoot an arrow, she got distracted with a butterfly that was flying near her and the arrow that was supposed to go into the target, end up going into one of the gardener's legs. Who, by the way, was on the other side of the garden."

Cassian's smile dropped and he got a little pale.  Everyone else laughed but him.

"Oh, this is going to be fun." Morrigan said with a "I already like her," followed by Amren.

"Careful, got it." Cassian said before starting to re-think about his life's choices. 

-

You were finishing packing when Helion entered your bedroom chambers.

"Everything okay?" He asked you.

"Yes. I already have everything I need." You turned to look at him and when you saw his look you told him "Don't worry. I'm going to be fine."

"I know." He approached you and held you by your shoulders "Remember, no one can know. It needs to remain a secret." 

"Yes, I know. I'm not going to tell them." You assured him.

"Good. Now, have fun but please be careful with the weapons during training with Cassian. We wouldn't want you to lose a finger."

"Or him." You added, making you and the male giggle.

"Also, don't forget our agreement." Helion reminded you.

You rolled your eyes but with a laugh escaping your lips, "I know."

"Four letters during the week." He said while smiling at your antics, "Deal?"

"Deal." You said with a firm smile.

-

Everything was going well. 

You had been at the Night Court for about three months now and the research about the Cauldron and Hybern had progressed a lot with your help. 

You loved Velaris and adjusted very well but instead of staying with the Inner Circle, you decided to rent a house near the Sidra so you could explore the City of Starlight at your own pace. 

And because you never lived alone before and decided to try it - 'a new adventure' that's what you wrote to Helion in the letter. He didn't like that.

You also did that, so you had a reason for the Shadowsinger to fly you to the House and then back to yours - but you didn't share that part with Helion.

The library at the House of Wind made you feel at home and helped with your homesickness. 

The priestesses adored you and found your presence comforting. The only thing they didn't like very much was when you disappeared for a few hours and they had to alert the Inner Circle.  

They found you on the last floor of the library drinking tea while talking to Bryaxis much to Cassian's dismay. You almost gave all of them a heart attack.

When they asked you about it you blamed your curiosity. You had heard some priestesses talking about the creature that lived in the library while searching for a book. 

You went to the edge of the stairs and when you looked down, you found nothing, and you needed to know what this creature was like so your feet started moving before you could stop them. 

You end up finding that Bryaxis was really good at telling stories and you thought he was friendly. Cassian didn't like that.

You were doing remarkable work. Rhys had complimented you multiple times for it.

You were respecting the agreement and sending four letters as agreed and Cassian still had all his fingers and toes but the same couldn't be said about the ear he almost lost when you got distracted during sword training. 

Two months without any incident - or almost.

But that changed the day a letter from the Night Court arrived.

- 

Helion never winnowed so fast as he did when he received the letter from Rhysand explaining about what happened to you.

Helion was quick to grab Rhys by the colar of his shirt that he didn't even had time to react "What the fuck happened?" He yelled.

Rhys didn't want to admit it but at that moment he was a little afraid of the male so he told him everything. How you didn't show up in the library this morning and Clotho noticed your absence, how no one had seen you since last night and after checking if you were with Bryaxis which you weren't, they decided to come to your house to check on you, but instead found the door open and when they check the inside...

The house was destroyed. Broken furniture, paintings lying on the floor, shattered objects, torn cushions and then, blood.

Not just yours but also whoever invaded.

Apparently, training with Cassian paid off because you put up a good fight to those males.

And then there were the scents.

The scent of Autumn soldiers, at least five different scents lingered in the air but they were starting to disappear so they suspected you had been taken at least two hours ago.

And when the explanation ended, he finally released his friend's shirt and took a step back.

Helion panicked. He knew what this meant right before he came to Velaris. But he chose not to believe it and just dismissed it. Maybe it was just a coincidence.

But now, with all the evidence in front of his eyes, he couldn't deny it. Not anymore.

He had found out the truth and came for you.

All the emotions started overwhelming Helion - anger, worry, fear, rage.

But he was going to find you, and he was going to bring you home - to him. Even if it meant he would have to destroy Autumn with his bare hands, like he did once, to some beasts, all those centuries ago.

"Don't worry, Helion, we're going to find your scholar." Rhysand promised him.

"She's not just my scholar!" The High Lord of Day shouted - he shouted so loud that the birds that were posing on the trees flew away as fast as their wings allowed. 

Feyre moved forward and placed her hand on Helion's arm, trying to comfort him as much as she could. "What do you mean by that?"

Helion met the High Lady's eyes, and all she found in them was pain and fear. 

His lips trembled, and after taking a few deep breaths, he told her the truth. "She's my daughter." 

The Inner Circle stilled at his words. This was unknown to them, Helion had never mentioned a child of his own.

"Y/N is my daughter, and she's the princess of the Day Court." The High Lord of Day told them. The fear in his voice was noticeable. 

Before any of them had the chance to say something, Helion raised his hand and signaled his second in command to approach him; the male had refused to let his High Lord come alone after reading that letter "Benjen."

Benjen approached him and stood to his full height, ready to receive his orders. "Yes, High Lord?

"I need you to send a letter to Eris, tell him what happened and that he needs to come to Velaris as soon as he can." Helion paused for a second, very well aware of the gazes the Inner Circle were sending his way, "and also tell him not to show the letter to anyone, as soon as he finishes reading it, he must burn it immediately."

"Of course, High Lord." Bejen replied and gave a small nod before leaving to carry out the order that his High Lord entrusted to him.

At the exit of one of his most trusted friends, Helion looked back to the Inner Circle, and he only had a second to breathe before the Shadowsinger spoke.

"Why are you sending a letter to Eris? What does he have to do with Y/N?" He asked him, with worry and confusion on his face. If Autumn had really captured you, he didn't want to waste another minute.

"Everything." Was Helion's only response.

Tired of his riddles, Rhys spoke, from one High Lord to another. "Helion, tell us what's going on. How is Y/N your daughter, and why did I never know about it? How is Eris connected to her? And why was she taken by Autumn soldiers?" 

Helion released a long breath and pitched the bridge of his nose. He approached the High Lord of Night, and with a stern look and a firm voice, he said, "If I tell you, Rhysand, you and your Inner Circle can't tell anyone." 

Rhys looked back, and with the firm nods of his family, he returned his look to Helion before extending his hand for him to shake it. "I promise."

Helion took his hand, and the bargain was made. A tattoo in the shape of the sun appeared on the back of their necks.

Helion gave him a nod before telling him, "Y/N mother didn't die, and she wasn't just a random lover." 

The Inner Circle approached at the sound of the new information the Spell Cleaver was about to share with them.

He continued, "Y/N is the result of an affair that I had eighty-two years ago." Helion paused, aware of what he was about to say. "She's mine and Elowyn's daughter."

The Inner Circle gasped out loud, shock spreading through their features. 

Oh, this was bad - this was very bad.

"You mean..?" Feyre wasn't able to finish her sentence before Helion interrupted her.

"Yes." He said, looking at the High Lady again, "The Lady of Autumn is her mother." Helion sighed, "We kept it a secret all these years so Beron wouldn't find out, but apparently, he has."

Helion took a step back and passed a hand through his long black hair. "That's how Y/N is connected to Eris. He's her brother."

Cassian spoke for the first time since all of this happened. "But how does he know?" 

Helion looked at the General. "Because Eris was the one who brought Y/N to me on the day she was born."

Eight-two Years Ago

The sun had left a long time ago.

The night had already come with her dark sky, her shiny stars, and her smooth breeze.

The entire Prythian was thankful for it.

Every citizen from every Court just wanted today's day to end.

No one understood or had an explanation for the events of today. 

It didn't make sense. Prythian was in the height of winter - two weeks from the Winter Solstice - to be more precise. 

Even though the Seasonal Courts didn't follow the natural course of Nature, they, too, were affected.

During the entire day, the sun shined like it had never shined before and released a heat that Prythian had never felt.

Not even the Summer Court or the Day Court have had a sun like this before. And these were the two Courts best known for their hot suns.

Even Winter Court, known for their constant cold, and their land always decorated with snow and ice felt uncomfortable with the sun.

Nothing happened differently during the course of today's day to explain this reaction from the sun.

There was no reason for it.

Except, there was, they just didn't know that.

- 

The letter came a few minutes after Helion had finished his dinner.

He, too, was contemplating about the sun's behavior earlier. 

He even made his way to one of his many libraries to see if this event had ever happened before but he found nothing.

It wasn't strange for the sun to shine like it did today. They've had their fair share of hot summers but for the sun to shine like that during the winter? That didn't make sense.

And with all the libraries and even more the books he owned, there had to be an answer somewhere.

The High Lord of Day was in the middle of reading a book when the letter appeared on top of it.

The letter had brown tones with leaf patterns and an intense scent of pine - Autumn.

This was the second strange thing that happened today. Why - of all the Courts - would Autumn be sending him a letter?  

It was then that he noticed that the letter did not come from Beron. The stamped seal did not belong to the High Lord.  

No, the seal was in the shape of a hound. The Heir's beloved creatures and his personal seal.

Eris Vanserra sent him a letter - a personal letter.

Without further hesitation, Helion opened the letter and read the content hidden within. If he was confused before, he is even more now. 

The letter contained three simple instructions: "Meet me at the border between Day and Dawn in twenty minutes. Come alone and don't let anyone see you. Burn the letter once you finish reading it."

Now, this was even stranger than the sun's behavior.

- 

Helion knew that he was most likely making a mistake. 

Meeting alone with Eris at the border could very well be a trap, but on second thought, what reason did the Heir have to ambush him?

The answer is none.  

He knows that Eris is not the cruel and arrogant male he appears to be, he knows that deep down Eris is good, honest and kind and that the rest is nothing more than a mask that he had to create because of Beron.

That's why Helion followed his instructions. He just hopes he doesn't regret it.

As agreed, Eris appears exactly twenty minutes after sending the letter.  

The High Lord of Day decided to arrive a little earlier as a precaution, just to make sure there were no hidden hounds ready to attack his legs, especially today that he was wearing a new robe.

Helion had no idea what this secret meeting was about. He came to think that perhaps the Heir was moments away from asking him for help to take down Beron, but he came to the conclusion that if that were the case, it wasn't him that Eris would ask for help, but the Night Court, so he scrapped that idea and was left with no other.

Therefore, he had no expectations for this meeting - if it could be called that. 

But the last thing he expected was to see Eris Vanserra with a newborn in his arms.

-

The day was already feeling long, but with the sun shining like this and the unbearable heat that came from it, it only made it seem even longer.

Elowyn, Lady of the Autumn Court, had now been in labor for three hours.

The eighth child of Beron Vanserra and Elowyn was about to come into the world, and like all the other births, Beron was far away from the room where his wife was.  

But Eris was there, just like he was at all the births of his younger brothers, holding his mother's hand like he always did.

Eris loved his mother more than anything, and one of the reasons he wanted to overthrow Beron so much was so she could be free and happy.

He also knew that Lucien was her favorite son, and although it hurt him, he would still do anything for her, but what was unknown to Eris was that he was her favorite son too.

Eris was surprised when his mother announced that she was pregnant again. After all, Lucien was born more than four hundred years ago. Another brother was something the young Heir wasn't expecting.

But he couldn't not be happy, besides he always liked taking care of his brothers when they were younger, and after everything that happened maybe a baby was exactly what they needed.

As his mother pushed again, Eris began to think about all the things he was going to teach the new member of the family - fishing, hunting, fighting because in this world that is also important, reading, writing, camping but most importantly how to control the powers.

That was something Eris didn't have. 

No one taught him how to control and use his fire, and that led the healers to treat a lot of burns because of it, and he wasn't going to let this baby go through what he did.

His mother's scream shook him away from those thoughts, and Eris refocused all his attention on her and made sure to hold her hand tighter, assuring his mother that he wasn't going anywhere. Not until his brother is born.

Two hours later - with screams, pain, and sweat - a baby's cries burst into the room, bringing tears of happiness to the eyes of Elowyn and Eris.

But it was at that moment that the Mother made her first turn of events.

"It's a girl, my Lady." The head healer that was helping with the labor announced "a very healthy baby girl." 

Eris froze, not knowing how to react before this new information.

In over a thousand years, the Vanserra lineage has never had female descendants. 

This couldn't be possible.

"A girl?" Elowyn asked, exhaustion in her voice.

"Yes, my Lady." One of the healers that assisted with the birth and now holding the baby confirmed while walking closer to the bed. "It looks like you've been blessed, my Lady." 

Eris's grip on his mother's hand loosened, and the male stood up from the side of the bed where he had spent the last five hours crouched. Now raised to his full height, Eris saw his baby sister, and his heart stopped. 

And that was when the Mother made her second turn of events.

The baby didn't look like Eris or his mother or anyone in his family. Her hair wasn't red, her eyes weren't russet or brown, and her skin wasn't pale. 

She wasn't a daughter of Autumn. Meaning she wasn't Beron's daughter.

Eris took the baby from the healer's arms before speaking to all of them. "Leave us." 

The head healer asked before making her exit, "Should we announce the birth to the High Lord, my Prince?"

"No." Eris was quick to respond. He looked at the baby in his arms again before meeting the gaze of the female. "I'll tell him myself when he gets back from the meeting. Thank you for your help."

"Of course, my Prince." The healer turned to face Elowyn and bowed one more time before leaving the room "My Lady."

Elowyn gave her a small smile. "Thank you, Lydia." 

Now alone in the room, Eris finally looked at his mother and took a seat on her left side of the bed, and passed the baby to her arms.

At the sight of her daughter, Elowyn cried.

She knew what this meant. Beron was going to kill her and her child.

Her love affair had ended after becoming pregnant with Lucien, but after seeing Helion at the High Lords meeting three years ago, all the feelings that she had buried deep down in her heart came to the surface.

And as always, she wasn't able to stay away from the male she's always loved - the love of her life, her mate, and now the father of two of her children.

Elowyn ran her fingers over the delicate cheek of her daughter - her only daughter - and with tears running down her face, she looked at her firstborn and said to him in a low voice "He's going to kill us, isn't he?" 

It was Eris's turn to have tears in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall.

Placing one of his fingers in front of his little sister, Eris saw the baby wrap her small hand around his finger, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat at the gesture. 

He had a gentle smile on his lips as he looked at the newborn now sleeping in his mother's arms. Her hand still wrapped around her big brother's finger.

"She's Helion's, isn't she?" Eris asked without taking his eyes from the baby.

Elowyn's mouth opened in surprise. She never mentioned Helion to anyone, not even to Lydia who wasn't just the Court's head healer but also her dearest friend. "Wha-"

"It's okay, mom. I have known for a while." Eris gave her a small smile, eyes still directed to his sister.

"Since when?"

"Since Lucien." Eris finally looked at his mother. 

Eris gave a long sigh before revealing his opinion to his mother "If you would like to know, I wish you had married him and not Beron," Eris grabbed her hand and give it a tight squeeze before continuing "You deserve to be happy and well treated, mom, and I know that Helion does that and so much more. I've never seen you as happy as on the days you returned from your meetings with him."

Elowyn gave him a genuine smile before murmuring a "Thank you."

Eris chuckled, now putting the two pieces together. "This is why the sun is acting like crazy today, isn't it? Because she's a child of Day.

The same had happened with Lucien but it wasn't as strong as today and Lucien was born in the summer which didn't raise any suspicions.

His mother nodded her head in affirmation before returning her eyes to her daughter, and she gave a small laugh. "She looks just like him."

And it was true. Everything about you screamed Helion - your eyes, your hair, your skin, and even your nose. There was no doubt in it.

Concerned invaded her face, and Elowyn found herself holding the baby tighter to her chest. 

She looked at her son again. "What are we going to do?" 

Eris met her gaze before looking at the peaceful baby again, and his head started to work to come up with a plan. 

Even if you weren't Beron's you were still his sister - his baby sister - and he wasn't going to let that horrible male harm you. 

After a few minutes and after thinking about all the possible ways, Eris understood there was only one option - one that he hated.

But that didn't matter. What mattered was to keep you safe and alive even if it meant to send you away.

The tears returned to his eyes. He had to swallow the lump in his throat because he knew he was about to break his mother's heart.

After breathing a couple of times to calm his heart, he gathered enough courage to tell her, "I have a plan." 

And just like that, the Mother made her third and final turn of events.

- 

The High Lord of Day couldn't believe what was in front of him.

Eris Vanserra with a newborn in his arms? Things had just gotten far more interesting or dangerous.

The Heir of Autumn was walking in his direction and looking at his surroundings while doing it.

When he finally stood in front of the High Lord, Eris asked him, "Are you alone?"

With an annoyed look, Helion raised his arm to gesture around them and couldn't help but reply "Do you see anyone else here, Prince?"

"As far as I'm concerned, you could have soldiers hiding behind the trees ready to attack me at your signal, High Lord." He answered with a sarcastic smile.

Helion reciprocated his smile while adding, "I could say the same about you." 

Eris shrugged his shoulders and concluded, "I suppose that's true." 

Helion winked at him before his eyes moved to the baby in his arms. Trying to act as normal as possible and not let his curiosity take the better of him, Helion asked "Who's this little alone? And why did you bring a baby here?" 

Helion didn't have a good view of you, only of the top of your head since the rest was hidden by the blanket.

At the question, Eris held you tighter in his arms, he looked to the High Lord - who was still busy staring at you, probably trying to get a better look - he wanted to see his reaction when he revealed the truth to him.

"This is my sister. She was born a few hours ago." The Heir said and moved the blanket so Helion could finally see you.

When Eris removed the blanket and Helion finally had a good view of you, he found it strange because he found you familiar, as if he had already seen you before but that was impossible.  

At your sight, confusion settled on the Spell Cleaver's features, and he scoffed before telling him, "She's your sister?" He gave Eris an incredulous look and then continued. "I hate to be the one telling you this, Eris, but she doesn't look li-"

You opened your eyes at the sound of his voice, making the High Lord of Day freeze in his place.

Helion stopped. His heart did, too. Realization entered him as he put the pieces together. 

He raised his head to look at the male in front of him, who only gave a nod of affirmation as his response.

Helion had to blink his eyes several times to make sure that he wasn't dreaming - that this was real.

Now with the new revelation of the Heir of Autumn, his previous thoughts made sense.

You looked just like him. 

"It's not possible." Helion said, more to himself than to the red headed male.

"It is. She's the living proof of that." Eris told him.

"The sun?" Helion asked and received another nod from the red-headed male.

Helion couldn't tear his eyes from. You were looking at him with your golden eyes - his eyes.

He felt weak in his knees. Helion always wanted children, he knew that since the moment he met Elowyn but the world hasn't been kind to them. 

By the Cauldron, he didn't even know Elowyn was pregnant. The last time they had seen each other was a little over ten months ago, but sometimes that happened, it had happened before.

When Beron was around a lot, it was difficult for her to leave without lifting any suspicions, so they would wait until they could.

Sometimes it took weeks, other times mouths, but Helion was patient, he would rather wait than risk her safety at Beron's rage.

But the wait was worthed because when they were together it was like the rest of the world disappeared and it was just the two of them. It was perfect. 

*

The room was lit by the first rays of the morning sun and a gentle breeze came through the window.

The two lovers were together in bed. After a long night of passion and romance, the two were in each other's arms with nothing but a sheet protecting them from the breeze.

Elowyn laughed again at the tickling sensation. She hit Helion's arm that was holding her against his chest "Stop", but she couldn't stop laughing.

"Why would I do that when I can hear that magnificent sound?" Helion joined her laugh.

But Helion was right. Elowyn only laughed when she was with him, and that was one of the reasons why she loved him so much.

The Lady rested her head on the High Lord's chest and released a long sigh before giving voice to her thoughts. "I wish I woke up like this every morning." She adjusted her head on the male's chest so she could look at him. "With you."

Helion lowered his head to meet her beautiful brown eyes. "Me too." He said with a sad smile. 

"Do you ever think about that? About how our life would be if we were together?" She asked him.

"Of course I do," he placed a hand on her hair and began to caress it as he spoke "The first thing I would do, would be to marry you and after making you my wife, I would make you my High Lady."

A smile began to form on her lips. "What else?" 

He reciprocated the smile and continued, "Afterwards, we would have our honeymoon at the Summer Court because I know how much you would like to visit there. And then, I would show you every place of your new Court. The libraries, the pegasus, the entire Palace and my favorite places" He paused for a second, sadness starting to make its way to his features "I would make you feel like home, and I would make you feel loved, seen and heard every single day. I would give you anything you asked of me, Sunshine."

A tear fell from Elowyn's eyes, and her lip trembled a little. "That sounds perfect. It would be a dream come true." 

Helion wiped her tears and told her "Yes it would be..." he gave her a weak smile. He, too, felt the pain of what they could only imagine."Would you like to hear the best part?"

When she nodded her head, he proceeded "After a few years of being married, if we were blessed enough and if you wanted, of course," he paused, a tear rolled down Helion's cheek "Children."

Elowyn didn't know what to say.  

She had confessed to Helion a long time ago how she wished she had run away from her family and married him instead of her current husband. How she wished she had been strong enough to stand up to her father and how she wished all her sons were his. 

Because this last confession was what held her back in Autumn, she was not capable of abandoning her sons and leaving them at the mercy of Beron. 

She couldn't wait for the day when Eris killed him so she could finally be what she always wanted - Lady of the Day Court but in this case she would be High Lady as Helion had told her and she didn't doubt for a second of his words.

But unlike Helion, the first thing she would do wouldn't be to marry him but to accept the mating bond. That beautiful, golden, and magical mating bond.

She tugged on the bond and a second later Helion did the same, finding the words she was looking for she said to him "Of course I would have children with you, Helion, that's not even a question." She giggled. "Can you imagine? Little versions of you and me running around and causing trouble?"

Helion couldn't hold back the laughter that escaped at her words "They would be troublemakers, wouldn't they?" 

Elowyn laughed even more "Of course they would be." Her laughter quieted and a hint of love adorned her face "Maybe I would finally have my little girl, I always wanted a daughter."

"Me too," Helion confessed, "I would name her after my mother in honor of her."

"Your mother was a remarkable female. It would be an honor to name our little sunshine after her." She said and dropped an arm around his waist.

"It would be my greatest achievement.'' He finished with a kiss on her forehead. 

They spent the rest of the morning in bed talking about the future they wanted more than anything and expressed their love one more time until Elowyn had to leave.

What they didn't know at the moment was that it was the last time they would see each other for a really long time.

*

The memory surged through Helion's mind like a wave. 

He remembers that day so well after all that day was only ten months ago. What a coincidence that on the last day they were together they talked about their future and their children and now, right in front of him, was their daughter.

Their little sunshine.

With a trembling voice, Helion spoke after a long time in silence "Can I hold her?" 

"Of course." Eris was quick to respond and passed you to your fathers arms. 

And that's when it happened. A moment that neither Helion nor Eris would ever forget.

In the second that you were in Helion's arms, both of your skins started glowing as bright as the sun had just a few hours ago.

The Day Court glow. 

"Wow." Eris whispered, amazed at what was happening.

"Indeed. She really is mine." Without taking his eyes from you, Helion asked "What's her name?"

"Y/N."

And once again, the High Lord froze on his spot. He felt overwhelmed with all the emotions he was feeling at once - love, surprise, gratitude, shock and happiness.

Seeing the strange behavior of Helion, Eris spoke "What is it?"

Helion looked at the male with a smile "That's my mother's name. I told Elowyn once how if I ever had a daughter, I would want to name her after her." 

Eris smiled at the kindness of his mother but he wasn't surprised, she was always like that.

"Elowyn." The High Lord of Day whispered.

Locking his gaze with the red-headed male, concern all written in his features at the well-being of the female he had been in love for centuries. He was so focused on you that he didn't remember to ask this earlier, "Elowyn. How is she?"

Eris released a long sigh. "Physically? She's fine but exhausted from the birth. Emotionally?  She's a wreck, but I suppose that's normal considering her only daughter has to be sent away."

"What?"

"That's why I sent you that letter, Helion. I came to bring her to you." Eris said, a firm look on his face. "She can't stay in Autumn. No matter how much I want." He murmured the last part to himself, but if Helion noticed he didn't show. "And no one can know about her, about who her mother really is, we need to keep this from Beron."

He nodded his head, and he agreed with the young Heir. Of course, you couldn't stay there. He didn't even want to imagine what Beron would do if he found out about you.

At the thought of the horrible male, confusion settled on his face again. "Wait. What about Beron? Certainly, he's going to notice that his supposed child is missing."

"Don't worry about Beron. I took care of it." Eris tried to be as vague as possible.

"How?" 

"You don't want to know besides that's not important right now. She is." He gestured to you, your skin still glowing and now grabbing one of Helion's fingers.

Eris gave a long breath, and then directed his gaze to you just for a second before raising it again to the High Lord "Are you going to take her?"

Helion scoffed, "What kind of question it's that?"

Eris released a long breath of relief, and a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn't doubt that the High Lord would refuse you, but he couldn't but be nervous at the same.

The Heir reached for the inside pocket of his coat and removed a letter, and Helion took his gaze from you to look at it.

"My mother wrote this for you. She told me to tell you to only read it once you're back home." He handed him the letter.

Helion's heart ached at the revelation of Elowyn calling his Court 'home'. He accepted the letter and thanked the red-headed male, and started making his way to leave.

But before he could, he stopped at the voice of the Heir calling for him. He turned around and faced him.

"I want to be part of her life." Eris confessed without hesitation. 

"What? We just agreed that no one can know about her, Eris. And that includes you. She can't know you as her brother." Helion explained.

"I know that." Seeing the confused look Helion gave him, it was his turn to explain."She doesn't have to know me as her brother. A friend will be enough." He paused for a second "Beron just nominated me as Autumn's emissary which means I will be the one going to your Court for meetings so I want to take that as an opportunity to get to know her and to see her grow. That's my only condition, I already lost Lucien, and I'm not going to lose her either.'

"Very well. As long as you share those moments with Elowyn. That's my only condition too." Helion replied. 

"Consider it done." Was the Heir's response.

Without further words, the two males parted away. One with a heart full and the other with an empty one. 

Present

Helion's heart was no longer full. How could it be, when you, the best thing that ever happened to him was missing?

He saw the Inner Circle's face at the big revelation he had just told them.

Rhys broke the silence "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you."

Helion met his gaze. "I couldn't risk it. Y/N is my number one priority, and she'll always be, so I did everything I had to do in order to keep her safe. I have no regrets."

Feyre interlaced her fingers with Rhysand's and asked the High Lord, "Does she know?"

"Only that she's my daughter. She doesn't know about Elowyn or Eris or the rest of her brothers." Helion answered.

"She never mentioned anything," Mor replied.

"I told her not to. Y/N knows that she's my weakness and that if my enemies knew about her connection to me, they would use it as leverage. So I made sure no one outside of Day knew it, except Eris and Elowyn, not even her other brothers knew it." Helion explained.

"So how did Beron find out?" It was Azriel's turn to say.

"I don't-" Helion began, but before he could continue, the Autumn Heir winnowed to their side.

As soon as Eris' eyes met Helion's, he marched towards him.

The Heir was angry, and he didn't spare a glance at the Inner Circle. 

With a firm voice, Eris demanded, "Where is she? Where is my sister?!"

Author's note: Thank you for reading! I didn't put the Helion x LoA pairing because I didn't want to give too much away. These two are one of my favorite ships, and they deserve their happy ending. 😊 Anyways, the beautiful dividers belong to @tsunami-of-tears  

Taglist: @emryb @fantasyandshit @azrielover @shadowsingercassia @brieflyclassymortal @lilah-asteria @lure-of-writing @pruvii @olive-main @mybestfriendmademe

[permanentswaps]

Grindr Swap With A Twink

Read Part 1 from @ghostinthedude here.

Lets just say that college was a LOT of fun. Sure, on the outside I looked like an immature pretty boy with nothing going through his head. But on the inside, I was a self-possessed adult, who knew exactly what he wanted.

From them moment I set foot on campus, I was inundated with attention from upperclassmen guys – and even some of the younger professors – who were eager to get to get me into their beds. I won’t go too much into the details, but I definitely got around that year.

Eventually, I hit my growth spurt. Better late than never I guess. And over the course of sophomore year I had packed on about 20 lbs of muscle, grew a solid 6 inches, and got a haircut. By junior year, I was no longer a slutty bottom twink being plowed by every closeted senior on the football team, I was a sexy vers twunk making my way through the swim roster.  

All the while, I was acing all my classes, leading me to graduate Summa Cum Laude and get a job in investment banking for next year. I knew its going to be a hard path, but it made my parents so proud and it will set me up financially for the rest of my career. This week, I just moved into a brand new apartment by myself in Boston’s Back Bay. I’m due to start work in a few weeks, but I wanted to get settled in, explore the city, make some friends, and maybe even build up a roster (I’m not gonna have a ton of time to meet guys once work starts up).

---

That’s why tonight, I found myself scrolling through Grindr. Here's my profile pics btw:

There’s quite a selection to choose from. Hmmm, the international guys from Harvard seem kinda hot, but I bet they’re super full of themselves. What about a true Boston native, there’s something weirdly sexy about their accents.

I kept scrolling until one guy caught my eye, making my stomach flip. It was my old body, he had tapped my profile. That's weird, I thought he would still be in Cincinnati. But anyway, his profile is kinda super hot:

"Hey, what's up," I messaged.

"Hey cutie, how's it going?" he replied.

"Alright alright, just moved to town, looking for some fun," I joked, trying to keep the conversation light.

"Hahaha, I love some fun," he replied, his enthusiasm evident even through text. "Top or bttm?"

"Vers ;)" I replied.

"I can work with that," he replied eagerly. "So, what's your name?"

I couldn't help but chuckle to myself. "You really don't know?"

"No, why would I, cutie?" he responded.

"I just figured you'd remember your own face after all these years," I teased, adding, "Although I guess it's not your face anymore."

"OMG.”

I quickly sent him my location, to which he responded almost immediately, “Be there in 20.”

---

"Shit," he said as he walked through the door, looking around wide eyed. "This place is super nice."

"Yeah, I mean, it's not totally furnished yet, but it's pretty nice," I replied, trying to downplay it a bit.

"How did you afford it? I know my parents don’t exactly have deep pockets," he asked, genuine curiosity in his tone.

"Yeah, actually," I began, feeling a pang of sympathy for my former self, "I got such good grades freshman year that I actually got a scholarship for the rest of college. And now..."

My old body's expression shifted, a hint of sadness creeping in.

“And now, I’ll be making 110k starting with no loans. So yeah mom and dad didn’t really need to give me anything.” I said, feeling a bit odd that he still referred to them as his parents. “And how about you," I asked, trying to keep the conversation going. "Where are you living these days?"

"Oh, I have a shared flat in Dorchester," he replied. "It's nothing special, but it's all I can afford on a bartender's salary."

"You moved all the way out here for a bartending gig?" I asked.

"Yeah," he said with a shrug. "I didn't really have a choice. I got fired from my last job for showing up late too many times and kinda got blacklisted from all the good bars in Cincinnati. But a buddy who had moved out here set me up with a new gig. It's okay, I guess."

"But anyway," he said, changing the subject, "look at you, you've done really well for yourself."

I couldn't help but smirk as I ran my hand down my toned abs. He wasn't wrong.

"And you," I said, diverting the attention away from myself, "you must still be pulling in all the hot twinks with that bod."

"Hahaha, yeah," he replied, his confidence shining through. "Although none of them are as sexy as you are."

His compliment caught me off guard, but I couldn't help but be drawn in as he pulled me in for a kiss. The chemistry between us was undeniable as we quickly made our way to the bedroom, shedding our clothes with eager anticipation.

He climbed on top of me, his lips finding their way to my eager member. I couldn't help but marvel at how he still remembered all the right moves. Within minutes, he had me on the edge, his skilled hands finding their way to my sensitive nipples, pushing me to climax.

With a satisfied grin, he eagerly swallowed every last drop of my load. Luckily for him, I had a rapid recharge time, and I was ready to go for round two within minutes.

As he whipped out his beer can thick cock, memories flooded back. I remembered that thing—it was definitely fun to top twinks, or twunks like myself, back in the day.

In doggy, he hugged my body tightly, in a way that felt almost nostalgic. It was almost like he was reminiscing about living in this body, even though it didn’t look anything like this when he last had it.

Then, with surprising finesse, he flipped me over into missionary, his eyes locking with mine as our bodies moved in sync.

In a half-whisper, he asked me a question that caught me off guard: "Can we swap back?"

Just then, it dawned on me. To swap back, we both needed to swallow each other’s cum. Panic surged through me. He had already swallowed mine. Shit.

Still thrusting into me, he paused, his eyes searching mine with a mix of desperation and longing. "No, you don’t understand," he pleaded. "This could’ve been my life."

Struggling to fight him through the ecstasy I was feeling from his cock plunging into me, I shook my head. "No, it wouldn’t be," I gasped out between breaths. "You'd never work hard enough for this."

I looked up and saw a look come across his face that I’d know anywhere. He was about to cum. I couldn't let him pull out and risk the chance of him trying to shoot his load all over my face.

Quickly, I pushed him backwards and positioned myself on top of him, impaling myself on his throbbing cock in cowboy. He looked up at me, a mixture of bliss and regret evident in his expression as his load erupted.

Relieved but seething with anger, I stepped off the bed and quickly grabbed his pants, tossing them at him with a firm command. "Get out," I said, my voice carrying an edge of finality. "And don't contact me again."

He silently complied, skulking towards the door where he saw himself out. Locking it behind him, I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding.

Returning to the bedroom mirror, I faced my reflection with a newfound clarity. Taking a good, hard look at myself, I uttered the words that had been swirling in my mind.

"I am Devin Connors," I declared, the weight of the statement settling over me. "And I deserve everything that I’ve worked for."

Really happy with how this one turned out. Let me know if you have any suggestions for which story I should finish next.

[steddieas-shegoes]

i could listen all night

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is wanting to hear every detail of their day'

rated t | 803 words | cw: recreational drug use (weed) | tags: established relationship, stargazing, they're so in love

💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟

"And it's not even that I'm worried about failing the test!" Steve said as he leaned back against the wall of their too-small balcony. "I did a practice test yesterday and only missed one question. I just feel like it's too easy."

"I think you're just smarter than you give yourself credit for, Stevie," Eddie said as he exhaled smoke.

"I don't think that's it."

Eddie rolled his eyes fondly.

They didn't love their apartment. It was on the third floor of a three story townhome that seemed to be a revolving door of large families who couldn't make rent after a couple of months. They'd get close to someone on the first floor and they'd be evicted two months later. They'd finally have a quiet neighbor below them only to find out it was an old man who was moved to a nursing home a month after moving in.

But they at least had this balcony that faced a parking lot of some business that was empty and closed by the time they needed to smoke.

And when Steve graduated, they could move closer to whatever school he ended up working at.

"What if I don't graduate?" Steve asked quietly, reaching out for the joint Eddie had just taken a third pull off of. "What if I'm doing all this for nothing?"

Eddie turned to Steve as much as he could, covered his hand in comfort. "If anyone knows what it's like not to graduate, it's me. And it's not the end of the world. It may feel like it at first, but just because you don't do it when you think you should doesn't mean you won't ever. You're smart and you work hard, sunshine, you're gonna graduate."

"You have to say that. You're my boyfriend."

"I don't have to say anything! I told you just this morning that you were stupid if you thought I wasn't gonna wake up just to kiss you goodbye," Eddie pecked his cheek and took the join back from him.

He knew Steve got emotional if he smoked too much, and he'd already reached the glassy eye part of the high. Better to stop him now.

"Other than your professor scaring you, what happened today?" Eddie asked casually. He wanted to hear about everything, and Steve liked talking about it.

"I had the best cup of tea. The library was giving free cups to students who donated $1 to the writer's club. So I guess it wasn't really free, but still, $1 for the best cup of tea I've ever had isn't bad." Steve leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder. "I studied for an hour between classes and saw these two women making out. One was like, a lot older than the other and I'm almost certain she was a professor with a student. Don't know what that's about."

Eddie raised his brows, but stayed quiet as Steve continued.

"And then I managed to eat my sandwich after my second class. Best one you've made yet. Perfect ham to turkey ratio," Steve kissed his neck.

"Glad you liked it, sweetheart."

"Oh! And there's gonna be a student run show next Friday. I get two free tickets if you wanna go. Maybe we could make it a date night?"

"I think that sounds lovely. Write it on the fridge and I'll make sure I'm home in time to get ready for it," Eddie took one last drag from the joint before putting it out in the ash tray he grabbed from the flea market downtown when they first moved in. "Anything else today?"

"I got to sit outside and look at the stars with my boyfriend. That's been pretty nice," Steve whispered.

Eddie felt his cheeks heat up, never quite used to how easily Steve shared his love and affection. He'd been like that before they were even together, overwhelmingly honest.

"Was he good company?" Eddie teased, leaning his head on top of Steve's and looking up at the few stars they could see in the city.

"He's always good company."

Eddie kissed the top of Steve's head and settled back.

"What about your day?" Steve asked, sinking further into his side.

"My day was boring." Eddie sighed. "But we have new releases hitting the shelves tomorrow. Those days are always fun."

"Any you want?" Steve sounded tired.

It was barely eight at night, but the weed was hitting and he'd been up since five that morning going nonstop.

"Might grab this local band's demo. We're the only place carrying it and they're hoping to do a show in our basement next month, but we'll see. Brad said we had to see how the demos sell."

"Sounds like fun," Steve said.

"You wanna go inside, sweetheart?"

"Not yet. Keep talking. Wanna hear about everything."

"Mkay, baby."

[roosterforme]

Adult Education Part 3 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jake visits Jessica during her office hours again, and he's left wanting her even more than before. But when he hears that there may be more to her than meets the eye, he has to decide if his feelings are worth the potential risk.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 3500 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

"What are you doing?"

Jake glanced up from the scientific journal which was open on the cafeteria table next to his tray of lunch. 

"What does it look like I'm doing, Bradshaw? I'm reading."

"You're reading?"

"Yeah," Jake replied, smoothing out the glossy page as he rolled his eyes. "I know you were in a fraternity and all, but I still assumed you knew what reading was."

Bradley set his tray down on the opposite side of the table. "Joke's on you. I graduated with a 3.9 GPA."

Jake just snorted as he read the caption under the photo of an F/A-18 that had been taken on the deck of the USS Harry S. Truman. "And I had a perfect 4.0."

"Damn," Bradley remarked before biting into his sandwich. 

"Yeah, I liked school," Jake muttered, turning the journal page. "I still like school."

"Is this because of my wife's coworker? Professor Reed?"

Jake met his eyes before looking back down at the notebook he'd been scribbling some questions in. It was only Wednesday. Jessica didn't have office hours until tomorrow. He was nearly finished reading the stack of journals she gave him from cover to cover, and he actually did have some questions for her. Real questions about what he read, not just whether or not he could get her phone number yet. 

"Maybe," Jake replied cautiously. He had already looked up the cost of taking one of her night classes, but he wasn't about to admit to that. "I just like how smart she is. She wrote her thesis on military aircraft propulsion."

Bradley just laughed. "This has nothing to do with how she looks? Sugar told me she's hot."

Jake bristled a bit. "She is hot." He thought back to her mini lecture and how she seemed to be the only physics professor at the school who actually knew how to teach. Then he remembered how cute she was at Chippy's, talking about her subject of study with bright eyes and a smile. 

"Yeah," Bradley said, breaking into his thoughts. "I know how you operate. Each one is hotter than the last."

Jake closed the journal and set the notebook on top of it. "Doesn't matter. She still didn't give me her number. Probably thinks I'm ridiculous." He excused himself with his tray and the journals. 

And by Thursday evening, Jake thought he was pretty ridiculous, too. What was he doing here? He was really going back to her office hours with his notes on the articles like some pathetic puppy? Like he was actually a student with an assignment to turn in? But even though she didn't give him her number, she had invited him back when she wrote her office hours down. 

When Jake started up his truck, he had every intention of turning right at the gatehouse and heading home. But he turned left toward the bay bridge instead.

--------------------------

"Dr. Reed. I need help. These problems are hard."

The actual audacity that these students had was just impressive. They came to her office hours and whined about how hard the coursework was. And they did it all the time. 

"Physics is hard, Luca," Jessica replied, loosening her grip on her pencil so she didn't snap another one. "But it would be a lot easier if you attended all my lectures."

"Aww, come on, Dr. Reed," he moaned, sliding his notebook a little closer. "I had to go surfing on Tuesday. Hey, you should come next time. I'll give you lessons if you bump my grade up just a little bit."

"Luca."

"I was kidding," he mumbled, collecting his notebook and the packet of extra practice problems she had given him to work on. "See you next week."

"Bye, Luca," she replied, opening her office door for him. And then her heart started pounding as her eyes caught on the man who was leaning against the hallway wall opposite her door.

"Bye, Professor," Luca said before he set his skateboard down and pushed off with one foot. But Jessica was too distracted by Jake Seresin to remind Luca for the hundredth time that he wasn't allowed to skate in the academic buildings. 

"Reedy," Jake said softly with a tentative smile. She was honestly shocked he was here on campus again. For the third time this week. Apparently he took her note about office hours seriously.

"Jake. I'm surprised to see you here."

He just shook his head slightly and said, "You really shouldn't be."

Her blood felt too hot in her veins as he pushed away from the wall. He was all chiseled jaw, green eyes and immaculate hair, and she was once again left wondering what the catch was. The khaki uniform was back, just like Monday night, and she wondered once again if he came here straight from work instead of stopping home. 

"I'm here for your office hours," he added, taking a step closer to her. He was big and strong and a lot taller than her. And the way she just knew Jake would let her run her fingers along his pins just like she'd done with his patches was making her ears feel warm and fuzzy.

Well, this was embarrassing. She hadn't been gone for a guy this bad in over a year. Not since Brian Conley. But she couldn't even focus on anything else right now, because she was devoting all of her energy to trying to say something intelligent to Jake. Where were all of her quips and clever remarks? She must have left them at Chippy's on Monday night, because she hadn't heard from them since. 

"Come on in," she told him, and she left the note on the small whiteboard in the hallway letting anyone else who might show up know that her office was occupied. "What can I do for you?" 

She didn't mean for that sentence to sound so suggestive, but she noted the pink flush on Jake's cheeks as she closed her door and leaned back against it. He was close but not too close, and his eyes drifted down over her uninspired pantsuit in such an appreciative way that it made her feel like she was wearing a pretty cocktail dress. Or maybe even less than that. 

"You could give me your phone number." 

She smirked at his statement and at the soft Texas drawl. She went to A&M for four years. She could tell he was a homegrown Texas boy who had somehow ended up transplanted in southern California. Maybe a little out of his element, just like her. Maybe trying to forget and move on, just like her.

When her eyes drifted to what he was holding, she asked, "Did you read the article? In Propulsion Science?"

He glanced down at the stack of journals and the notebook in his big hand, and said, "I read them all. Cover to cover. I have some notes and a few questions."

When he glanced back up and met her eyes, she cocked her head to one side. "Seriously? You read all of them?"

"Yes," he replied immediately. 

She walked past him, letting her fingers brush the back of his hand longingly. When she took her seat, he was leaning on the opposite side of her desk with both hands and looking down at her. He already asked for her phone number. Twice. It was a bold move, playing hard to get with a man as handsome as Jake. But the steady rise and fall of his chest and his softly parted lips while he gave her his full attention was addicting. 

"Take a seat," she said softly. "Show me what you have."

He groaned quietly and pulled the other chair a bit closer, and Jessica soon found herself a little warm again. While he wasn't a PhD candidate, his notes on the journal articles were thoughtful and his questions were insightful.

"This journal of physical chemistry had the most interesting article on engine mechanics, but I must admit, I was a bit lost when they talked about the implementation of fuel combustion calculations," he said, holding out his notebook for her to take. "What's your opinion, Dr. Jessica?" 

This was clearly a man who gave great consideration to his aircraft and what he did all day at work. And that was hot. He was smart, and he thought she was smart. And he wasn't afraid to acknowledge either of those things. 

When she slowly stood, she could practically feel his eyes on her body. "It's my opinion that you should read this accompanying article." She turned toward her bookshelf and couldn't help but glance back at him over her shoulder. His gaze met hers right away, and she stumbled a bit in her high heels. She had to steady herself before she reached up to the top shelf on her tiptoes. 

"Allow me," Jake said, and the soft scrape of his chair on the floor was followed by his warm body just inches behind hers. "Which one is it?"

She thought about sliding out of his way. She considered that he'd have an easier time reaching the correct journal if she wasn't also standing in front of the shelf, but she didn't move an inch. "One with a blue spine," she whispered as he reached up past her head and ran his fingers along the journals.

"One of these ones?" he asked, moving his fingers very slowly along the spines from left to right. 

"Mmhmm," she hummed as his chest pressed against the back of her shoulder. He grabbed several journals with blue spines and gently took them down from the shelf and placed them in her hands. His voice was right there next to her ear. 

"There you go, Reedy." 

His big hand brushed her waist before he stepped away from her, and she turned to face him, ready to throw the journals across the room in favor of pulling him closer again. "But they're for you," she said, sounding a little bit out of breath. 

Jake was rubbing the back of his neck now, cheeks flushed as he reached out to take them back. "Right." His voice was rough, and Jessica plopped back down into her seat with very little grace. 

She cleared her throat twice before saying, "The one on the top of the stack has a great accompanying article that you should read. And if you really want to know about the calculations, I can show you sometime."

"I'll read all of them," he replied, eyes soft on her face as she awkwardly adjusted her glasses with the backs of her fingers. 

"I do appreciate a man who reads in his spare time," she whispered. It looked like Jake was ready to jump out of the chair again, and she kind of wished he would. Because she was currently thinking about crawling across the desk and onto his lap, and letting herself touch all of his pins while she tasted his lips. 

She jumped in her chair when there was a sharp knock on the door, and suddenly Jake looked even more flustered. "Come in!" she called out, but she couldn't seem to take her eyes off Jake. 

"Dr. Reed,'' came a gratingly annoying voice from her doorway. It was Dr. Leeland, and he was looking between Jessica and Jake like something deviously untoward was going on in here. But that's what everything thought about her, she supposed. 

"Dr. Leeland, how can I help?" she asked, smiling apologetically at Jake who was now rising out of his seat. Leeland was looking at him like he was trying to place who he was, and Jessica had to hide her smile. She kind of hoped he didn't recognize the man who called him out on his incorrect math during the mini lecture. 

"Need help with my printer," he growled, and Jessica was on her feet now, walking around her desk. 

"Sure," she replied as smoothly as she could with Jake standing right next to her. "I'll be right there."

She watched Leeland shuffle back out into the hallway before she looked up at Jake. "Damn," he whispered. "I thought maybe I'd be able to talk you into another three dollar beer and some peanuts."

She bit her lip and said, "He'll have me in there for at least an hour helping him, guaranteed. So maybe another time?"

"I'll be thinking about it all weekend, Jessica."

Then she reached up and ran her index finger along his name tag, tracing S E R E S I N before tapping his lieutenant insignia gently. And he just let her do it with the softest look in his eyes. 

"Yeah. Me too."

---------------------------

On Saturday night at the Hard Deck, Jake was happy to see that Bradshaw and his wife were both there. He knew what kind of beer she liked, so he flagged down Penny at the bar and ordered one along with his own glass of bourbon. Then he sipped his drink as he walked over to her. 

Jake smirked, because she never looked quite happy to see him, but she did accept the beer when he handed it to her. "Thanks," she told him, "but you're not usually this nice to me. What's up?"

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm.... nice."

She chuckled as Rooster walked back over to her after Nat kicked his ass at pool. "You're alright, Jake, but I'm not stupid. I know what you want."

"Sugar," Rooster whined. "You got another beer but didn't grab me one, too?"

"Jake got it for me," she said, pulling the bottle further away when he reached for it. "It's a bribe, but I want to hear him admit it."

She looked at Jake again with a knowing smile, and when she pressed the bottle to her lips, he said, "Fine. It's a bribe. I want you to tell me everything you know about Jessica Reed."

Bradley rolled his eyes and kissed her cheek. "I'll be with Nat."

"So?" Jake said when they were alone again. "Will you tell me? Because that woman is driving me insane, and she won't even give me her phone number."

"Yikes. You can usually seal the deal right away," she said, glancing around the always crowded bar. "I can count like four women here who you've hooked up with."

Jake sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before he downed the rest of his bourbon. "Please?" he asked calmly.

She was quiet as she sipped her beer. "I actually don't know her very well," she said a little cautiously. "I eat lunch with her occasionally, because everyone else seems to avoid her. Especially everyone who works in the science departments."

This was puzzling to Jake. Jessica was the most interesting woman he'd met in a long time. She was even nice to Dr. Leeland when he asked her for help. He honestly couldn't imagine anyone wanting to avoid her on purpose. "You sure she's not just a bit of a loner by nature or something?"

But she just shrugged. "Come on, Sugar," Jake begged, using the name Rooster called her. "Be sweet, and just tell me what her deal is."

She laughed and said, "I like her just fine. I have no problem with her. But whether or not there is any truth behind them, Jessica is the subject of a lot of rumors."

"Rumors?" Jake's mind was immediately swirling. Jessica with her glasses and her high heels and nerdy journals and soft smiles. "What do you mean?"

"I try not to get involved, so I don't know too much. But something definitely went down between her and the head of the chemistry department. And I heard one of the other physics professors call her a slut behind her back."

Jake's grip tightened so hard and so fast on his empty glass, he was convinced he was going to break it. "She's fucking sweet," he growled. "And a damn better teacher than anyone else in her department. And nobody should be calling anyone a slut in a professional setting."

"I don't disagree with you," she said quickly. gently touching his hand. "But you asked. So I told you."

Jake nodded and said, "You're right. I asked. Thank you."

"Sure, Jake," she said softly, turning toward her husband. "And thanks for the beer."

He watched her walk into Rooster's welcome arms. He held her with a laugh while he juggled a pool cue, and Jake felt a pang of jealousy. He never used to mind being the one who was always single, but even he could admit that it would be nice to be around someone who was smart and funny and kind. And have them want to be around you.

By late Sunday morning, Jake decided he didn't actually care about any rumors where Jessica was concerned. He liked her. He could tell she liked him. He kept replaying the way her face looked as she traced his patches and pins with her gentle fingers. 

He couldn't tell if she was playing coy or toying with him, but he would stand there all day long in her office and let her do anything she wanted to him as long as she was looking up at him with that outwardly needy expression. And he wanted to touch her back, run his hands along her hips and pull her close, but he still didn't even have her number. 

But he did still have her San Diego State faculty profile open in his phone browser, and his thumb was hovering over her email address.

----------------------------

Jessica knew Monday morning was going to be a struggle. They always were. After a weekend of going out with friends and taking a luxurious Sunday afternoon nap, facing Brian for the weekly faculty meeting was going to be hell. But she got dressed, fixed her hair and put her glasses on. She made sure she was on time. She made sure there was nothing for anyone to complain about when it came to her. 

And just like always, she was sitting off toward the back of the small auditorium alone, sipping some coffee and counting down the minutes until the clock hit 9:00 and she could go up to her office. 

"Now, for those of you who are not on a tenure track yet," Brain Conley said, turning to glance at her, "make sure you pay close attention."

He was such an ass. Just such a handsome looking fucking asshole. Everyone knew that Dr. Nguyen and Jessica were the only two that statement applied to, and this was his first year out of grad school. He was like twenty four. But Jessica looked down the row of seats and smiled at Dr. Nguyen who smiled back while he blushed. And then she listened to Brian drone on and on about excellence in education and involvement on campus. 

By the time she made it up to her office, her coffee had soured in her stomach, and she felt like crying. But she had an hour to pull herself together before she had to teach Physics 103 to a bunch of lazy sophomores. While her computer started up, she opened the newest journal that had been delivered to her mailbox on campus and smiled. Maybe there was something in here that Jake would be interested in. Not that she really expected him to keep stopping by. He would lose interest.

She skimmed the journal index, checking out the article topics as she logged into her school email account. And the newest email right up at the top was from jake.seresin. She pushed the journal aside and squealed as she opened it up, shocked that he had found a way to contact her again.

Dear Dr. Reed,

Thank you again for your excellent journal suggestions. I've read them all cover to cover, and I'm a little nervous to tell you that I think I've become a bit addicted to the subject matter. I find it fascinating to learn more about military aircrafts in general, but visiting your office hours has really piqued my interest in many other things as well. 

I hope you don't mind that I plan on returning on Tuesday night. This time I'd like to try my hand at solving some of the physics equations with you. I'll bring a sharp pencil, but I'll probably skip the skateboard. You didn't seem too keen on that one, and I just find myself wanting you to be impressed by me.

Also, Jessica, this would be a lot easier over text, but I'll play along. For now. Looking forward to your office hours (and hopefully you are, too?).

Jake

P.S.- You should have seen how long it took me to actually type up this email. Your SDSU faculty photo has been continually distracting me for days, and I think I looked at it so long that my email timed out.

She screamed in delight. Jessica clapped her hands over her mouth, pushing her chair back from her desk, kicking her feet. She stared at the screen for a few seconds before she decided how she wanted to respond, and then she just went for it.

----------------------------

Dr. Jessica, we would all be kicking out feet, too! More than meets the eye with Jessica... Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 4

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[stsgluver]

synopsis. suguru is spiralling and you don't know what to do.

wc. 750

tags. angst, fluff, not proofread :)

"you okay?"

suguru opened one eye and then two, the blistering sun above him now being blocked with your silhouette. his vision is slightly blurry - he wasn't sure how long he was asleep, maybe a few hours, maybe a few minutes. he's finding it more and more difficult to distinguish between days.

then there was you: a ray of sunshine personified. you're smiling down at him, his precious girlfriend whom he held so close and dear to his heart. it wouldn't be a stretch to suggest you were his one tether to sanity as he felt himself spiralling further and further towards a path of self-destruction.

"mhm," he hummed quietly, a large hand coming up to protect his eyes from the light, "class is just a little harder without yaga being distracted with satoru all the time." it wasn't a lie per se, as you grew closer to graduation and yaga focused more on perfecting your cursed techniques, classes had increased significantly in difficulty. for suguru, who already was having to deal with the pressure of often being the only special grade sorcerer on campus, on top of his own moral dilemmas, the stress was taking a clear physical toll on him.

you could only imagine what was going on up there, in the depths of his vulnerable mind.

nonetheless, you wanted to believe that nothing was truly wrong and he needed you to believe that he was still just your suguru. he could not afford to lose you too.

so you didn't ask again. the dismissive answers he would give you unsettled you but then he'd smile and kiss you and you'd feel compelled to trust him. but that smile wouldn't quite reach his eyes and his lips were chapped and raw from where he'd picked them late at night as he sat up in crisis.

still, were there for him every day.

suguru woke up to you holding him close to your chest as your fingers gently brushed through his hair. you'd begun to fit putting his hair up into your own schedule as he struggled with the overwhelming task of getting up to continue on as a sorcerer. between classes, you'd always treat him to a drink and a bag of whatever he fancied at the vending machine. when the students from kyoto and tokyo arranged a get-together, and suguru dreaded the idea of being surrounded by so many given his state of being, you were the one to take the fall, citing the flu and claiming you required him at home.

that was the day you found him in the shower. after saying he'd only take fifteen minutes, twenty-five had passed and when you timidly knocked on the bathroom door, there was no response.

"suguru?" you repeated his name into the room thick with steam as you pushed the door open ajar ever so slightly. there's still no response and there's a pit in your stomach as all possible worst-case scenarios flickered through your mind.

then you heard it: a light sniffle barely audible over the sound of running water. he's been crying.

you slipped into the bathroom and, instantly, your body went into autopilot - it's only priority being suguru and you didn't even bother to take off your clothes as you stepped into the shower.

his back was facing you and his head was dropped down slightly as he rested his forearms on the wall in front of him. the hot water ran over his back freely but did little to ease the knots in his shoulders.

if he's shocked by your presence, he didn't show it. you were silent as you wrapped your arms around his middle, your thin top becoming a second skin as you get drenched under the shower head. his sobs broke your heart and you wished that you could remove all the curses from his body, that he wasn't 'blessed' with such a technique where negativity literally coursed through his veins.

you hesitantly rested your head against his shoulder blades. suguru had been so concerned about maintaining a facade, you didn't want him to lash out at you for pushing a boundary.

he didn't push you away - in fact seconds later he blindly reached for one of your hands and you didn't hesitate to intertwine your fingers. you gave them one light squeeze to let him know you're there and you always will be and he returned it back three times.

i love you. i need you. never leave me.

a/n. I just want to be one of his girls

[e-nonsense]

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗗𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗦𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗟'𝗦 𝗞𝗜𝗧𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗡 - 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵. 𝘻𝘦𝘳𝘰

pairing. batfam x batsis!reader + platonic!matt murdock x batsis!reader

warnings. swearing, child neglect, mentions of an accident that makes you blind, canon/typical violence, nothing goes with comics

series masterlist

You got to Gotham city when you were five, you didn't want to go but you had no choice your mother was dead, and had left you in the care of your father.

But even at five years old your father had no time for you. Always busy with the public, or with Batman.

At the time Dick was fifteen, he had no reason to care for a little sister, but Jason. Oh Jason Todd, to you he was an angel.

Your big brother who at eight years old you deemed cooler than Dick Grayson.

Everyday after patrol, he'd come up and check on you, tell you a story usually a more child friendly version of his missions.

You kept him grounded, you made all his anger go away, an anger you blamed Bruce for because when you two first met he wasn't angry he was a happy kid. Everytime you called his name, the soft mutter of "Jay" would knock some sense into him.

But after the accident, the one you went blind, you were nine nearly ten and Jason would stay fifteen, in that year you had lost two things.

Your sight, and your big brother

You were often met with pity than concern because of it. Everyone always asking if you were alright, but never truly caring about the answer.

You heard about the headlines when it happened, "Y/n Wayne, gone blind" or "Gotham's little princess now Gotham's latest victim"

It's not like they actually cared, no of course not they only gave a shit about the publicity they'd get from selling stories like this.

You were only nine years old, you'd think five years would be enough to adjust.

Apparently not..

"Miss Wayne" you heard a gentle knocking at the door of your father's office- well it's your office now. Bruce signed Wayne Industries off to you, because it would make everyone's lives easier if you (someone they deemed quite useless) were actually doing something important, it gave them more vigilante time. Besides you finished school already, you were a smart kid, always top of your class you managed to skip a couple of grades and graduate early like super early.

You were a disappointed when nobody but Alfred turned up, then again you'd stopped caring about that a while ago. Jason - your beloved zombie brother - wouldn't stop apologising, and he took you for ice-cream and hung out with you for the rest of the night as an apology. You couldn't stay mad at him.

"Yes?" you'd been running the company for a few weeks, Alfred was usually helping you. Reading out things that weren't in braille, but since the first thing you did when you got Wayne Industries was buy braille embossers mainly 'cause you knew Alfred would always be there to help you with everything.

"Sorry to disturb you Miss, but y'know that guy that you fired last week?"

"Yeah, the one that was caught uh- having sex in the storage room right?"

"The very same Miss" if you could see right now Tani's face would be littered with pink on her cheeks, "He wants to sue"

"And?" you groaned, that came out harsher that you intended, you could sense that she understood.

"Well he's got a pretty compelling case against the company. When your father owned it that is, very incriminating"

"shit" you muttered under your breath, mentally thanking any godly being out their that Alfred wasn't there to hear you.

"how hard is it to get a good lawyer?"

"No" Matt's voice was firm, he didn't want to take the case and nobody could make him.

"no what do you mean, no" Foggy didn't get it, I mean he sort of did but you were offering a nice pay- like more than what's in their pay grade- but it had nothing to do with criminal law, sort of.

"I don't want to do it Foggy, it has nothing to do with my job or qualifications"

"I'm going to do it then"

"No" Foggy wasn't even listening, he had already walked out of the room and went to reply to the email your secretary had sent to him and various other lawyers.

Foggy stepped up to Tani's desk- Matt beside him- and smiled, eying to the elevator that led all the way up to your office, two security guards on each side. You had put them there for Tani because when she didn't let people up they'd harass her.

"Hi, we're here to see Miss Wayne" Foggy's voice only slightly louder than the crappy music in the background. Tani looked up, "name?"

"Nelson, Foggy Nelson"

For the first time since they arrived Matt talked, but only to utter his name.

"Through the elevator please"

They walked as silently as possible, neither in the mood to talk to one another. Once they were inside and going up Matt was talking.

"Y'know kids probably just gonna be another spoilt rich kid, who's daddy running the business behind their back because they can't do shit"

Foggy only let out a sigh, and walked through the elevator doors when he saw it open, only to reveal another door, one he assumed led to your office.

He was shocked to hear laughter coming from inside the room, what ever happened to professionalism?

"Alfie, I swear this guy was high-"

Matt heard a this 'Alfie' guy chuckle "Miss Wayne you can't say that about them, they're lawyers that came hear to help you"

"I know I know, but you should've seen them" you exaggerated the word seen and it made Alfred laugh.

But the laughter stopped when Foggy knocked on the door and Alfred cleared his through smiling while gesturing for them to come in.

"Oh my god, she's blind Matt" Foggy whispered, as he watched you move from leaning on the desk and stood up straight.

"Sorry I'd shake your hand but I'm not exactly sure where you are"

Matt smiled at that "Don't worry 'bout it, 'cause I don't know where you are either"

"He's blind" Foggy not so discreetly whispered to you.

"I can see that" you whispered back with a chuckle, you cleared you throat "now onto business then?"

"Of course"

Okay maybe Matt was a little wrong about you, alright very wrong about you. You were nothing like he imagined, but then again he hadn't put much thought to what you might be like.

He could tell that you could handle yourself, and that impressed him a lot. He could also tell that you were still grasping the ropes of being blind.

And well he wanted to help you, to train you. He thought it was funny, him training someone but he wanted to try. Maybe you could be the next Daredevil.... scratch that he didn't want that for you.

Now how is someone supposed to reveal a secret identity to a complete stranger?

ᴛᴀɢ/ꜱ: @fandxmslxt69 @jaguarthecat @bxdbxtxh15 @byebyeeye @8-29pm

© e-nonsense. do no copy/steal/translate. do it and I’ll bite your toes off

[kairiscorner]

ok but imagine miggy with a perfectionist/overachiever/burnt out gifted kid reader

(tw: mentions of light self-starvation, keep yourselves fed babes, you deserve to eat)

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

...

summary: you really wanted to keep your number one spot, but at the cost of your well-being? miguel refuses to watch you do this to yourself any longer and takes matters into his own hands.

word count: ~1.7k

it was 2 in the morning, and you were still burning the candle at both ends. you were hard at work memorizing concepts, diagrams, easily mispronounced words and acronyms you'd never use or find useful ever again in your life unless you were on a trivia gameshow.

you were hard at work trying to understand what little was entering your mind already, a little overwhelmed by the concepts flooding your brain, but not ready to get to bed yet, out of fear someone will push you off your throne as one of the top students of the class.

you were intelligent, you had a gift; you heard those words all your life, every tine you came home with a new certificate, medal, trophy–or all three at once. you couldn't help it, school was just too easy for you back then; you could take the tests with your eyes closed and without even studying the night before.

but soon, it got harder for some reason. you originally didn't mind, you still passed with flying colors and with minimal effort–but at the cost of your sleep schedule and eating habits. you convinced yourself it was fine, it was okay, so long as you were on top.

that was all you could think of, "i just need to stay on top, then i'll be fine. nothing's better than showing them all i'm better, i'm smart, i'm... worthy of this, all this."

your mantra worked, but it worked too well that it backfired horribly.

hence, here you were, on an empty stomach that was growling, begging for you to fill it with sustenance, as the clock soon ticked to 2:15 am. the constant ticking of the clock irritating you, and thoughts of getting a digital clock to lessen distractions filled your head–ironically becoming a distraction in itself.

you groaned, you had to face it, you weren't going to get anything done at this rate. you decided to check your phone for something that might help stimulate you, maybe motivate you, even, to get back to studying.

you went online for a little, laughed at a few videos, got interested in some rabbit hole videos, found yourself singing along to some songs that you clicked on from your feed. it was peaceful.

but soon, you were greeted by a flurry of messages from your concerned friend, miguel o'hara.

you opened your latest message notification from him and read it as soon as it flashed on your screen. "what is so important that you should be up right now?" he asked.

you bit your lip as you tried to think of what to say. you knew miguel was the unyielding type of person, if you gave him a bullshit answer, you were going to get bullshit from him. you typed, erased, retyped and re-erased your message over and over again. but you finally came to the conclusion to type out, "why are you up rn?" you texted, sending him a duck emoji afterwards. he hated when you did that.

"it's 2:20 am," he argued. "correction, 2:21 in the morning," you responded. "are you even doing anything worthwhile right now? maybe rethinking which direction your life's headed before graduation?" he texted back, to which you giggled.

"you didn't answer my question," you replied, with a duck emoji again. "i was up because i saw your online status. don't think you're slick, you didn't answer my previous questions, either." he replied. "and what relevance does the duck serve in this conversation? i seriously don't understand."

you laughed aloud at his blunt answer, and in your half-tired daze, you accidentally pressed the call button. it wasn't until you heard his voice on the other end that you realized you accidentally called him.

"hello?" rang his voice from the other end, a little groggy. "um, hi." you responded as he groaned. "why the... shock are you up?" he asked, a little irritated. "we have our finals tomorrow." you replied curtly. "so? that doesn't answer my question. why are you shocking up?" he asked in a more annoyed tone as he shook off the grogginess in his voice.

"por el amor de Dios..." he muttered under his breath. you were a little taken aback by how... captivating he sounded when sleepy. a little grumpy, yes, but you felt like you could listen to his voice be like this every day. maybe you would stay up a little late just to hear him like this.

"go back to bed." he told you, trying to sound commanding. "and why would i ever do that? you know how important the finals are." you remind him. "...and how important being the top student is for me." you murmured out that last bit, to which he raised an eyebrow at.

he breathed a sigh. "i seriously can't believe you'd prioritize being a top student over giving your body a much needed break." he berated you as you hunched your shoulders, a little disappointed that he had a point. before you could say anything to retort, your stomach sided with miguel and let out a deep, rumbling whine.

the sound of your stomach complaining about how poorly you've been keeping it fed alerted miguel as he sighed yet again. "what time was it when you last ate?" he asked you, his voice soft as he tried to keep himself calm and composed.

"ah, well, maybe around... i forgot." you answered honestly. "you forgot?" he asked in a concerned voice. "you really can't live without me, huh?" he asked as you heard the shuffling of bed spreads and his big footsteps as he walked around his room. "what are you doing?" you asked him.

"more important question is where i'm going, and if you must know, i'm headed to your dorm right this–" and before he could even finish, there was a rapping of knocks on your door. you got up as you wondered if the person knocking was who you feared it was.

"–my phone died." he said in a low voice. "hope it rests in peace." you joked in a straight, nonchalant tone as miguel sighed at the bad joke. he entered your dorm without another word and set on your table the big white plastic bag he brought with him.

he didn't change out of his white shirt, dark and light blue striped pajama pants, and wore the jacket you bought for him on his birthday. "sit down." he commanded in a soft voice. "what is th–" "sit. down." he repeated himself in a more solid voice, which shut you up and got you to sit down immediately without asking any questions.

before you could get another word out of your mouth, miguel handed you an empanada. it was a little soft and limp, but it was warm. you could tell this wasn't made by just anybody. no, you recognized this style of empanda wrapping, the way it was golden brown on one side, slightly browned on the other–the abundance of meat in the filling with hardly any vegetables, just the way you liked it.

the only person who knew how to make it this way was...

"well damn, miggy, didn't think you were gonna make me anything." you said as you took a bite of the empanada. he shrugged. "i was going to give them to you today, but you were holed up in the library all day. if not the library, then in your dorm, locking yourself in your own misery." he said as he ate his helping.

you chuckled. "hey, don't laugh. i worried about you all day." he scolded you lightly with a half-full mouth. "oh. is that why you were online earlier?" you asked him, eating your empanada to satiate your starving stomach.

"i... i couldn't sleep." he admitted. "why not?" you asked him. "...a part of me thinks it was because i couldn't stop worrying about you. i didn't see you the whole day and i really, really wanted to know if you were okay. you know it kills me every time when you don't talk to me, let me know if you're alive, at least." he said as he looked up at you, his expression softening.

"oh, mig, i'm... so sorry." you said as you realized the weight of your actions, how it affected not only you, but miguel, and possibly other people who cared about you. miguel put his non-greasy hand on your cheek. "you should be." he said promptly. "but don't beat yourself up over it, you've been beating yourself every day since you were on top, not wanting to lose." he went on as he rubbed the side of your face.

"it's admirable, but please don't lose yourself over it. i think you're good enough already at second, third, or even no place at the top. you'll always have a place in my heart, that's the only thing no one can take away from you. that's the only place you'll always be number one in." he said with a small smile. "please promise me you'll take care of yourself, even if you can't accept losing once or twice or many more times in your life to someone else. i'd rather see you lose at everything but yourself. but i know you're good enough already, you don't have to overdo it anymore, okay?" he reminded you, to which you nodded and rubbed away at your eyes.

tears formed and rolled down your cheeks as he spoke, tears you never realized you were holding in, which suddenly came flooding right out when miguel talked to you. "ah... sorry." miguel apologized as he wiped away your tears with a napkin. "i promise, miguel." you sniffled out. "i'll... i'll try to take care of... myself." you promised as miguel held your face in his hands. "and if you can't... i'm right here for you. i've always got you, no matter what." he said as he kissed your forehead, a gentle and loving reminder that you can be number one at everything all you want, you already are his number one, but never forget that you have to be number one for yourself, first.

a/n: I NEEDED THIS WHEN I WAS 1 POINT AWAY FROM A 98 GENERAL AVERAGE ON MY CARD I SWEAR /cries HOPING YOU BABES LOVED THIS

tags !! @miguelswifey04

[sipsteainanxiety]

for so long, midoriya and bakugou had competed with each other over the title of number one hero.

constantly butting heads both inside and outside of class, trying to one-up each other out in the field, fighting together to nitpick at their strengths and weaknesses. they were both so steadfast in their decision to be at the top, nothing seemed like it could sway them.

it had gotten to the point where everyone in their little class at yuuei ruminated on who would be the victor. they were both strong—terrifyingly so—and had potential that reached the very stars. they were leagues ahead of their colleagues as they grew and this was recognized—even celebrated in some cases.

people starting placing bets once they'd all graduated, judging the two based on how well they interacted with people, dealt with villains, supported fellow heroes—everything.

of course, they each had their own separate strengths and weaknesses. where bakugou prevailed with his flashy, explosive quirk, devilish good looks, and minor injuries when dealing with villains, midoriya fell. where midoriya prevailed with his kind smile, heartwarming words towards civilians, and willingness to help even small-time heroes, bakugou fell. they see-sawed—balanced each other out—but they were too thick-headed to realize as they focused on themselves.

they had to work hard as sidekicks to make their way up to the pro-hero status. they busted their asses, put their all into saving people. the race to the top was as invigorating and demanding as ever, but by god they were going to win.

so when it was finally time for the yearly reveal on the top ten pro-heroes of japan, they both waited with bated breaths. who was it going to be?

dynamite? with his 100% win-rate against villains and deadly efficiency?

or deku? with his blinding smile and determination to save everyone?

the answer? it was neither of them.

it was you.

you, with your warm smiles that made your eyes crinkle and put anyone at ease. you with your strength, your powerful quirk, that could save anyone within minutes—seconds, even. you, with a public approval rate that skyrocketed once you were out on the scene. you, who had snuck up behind them and caught them both completely by surprise.

they'd been so wrapped up in competing with each other that they hadn't realized there were other heroes with the same goal—same potential.

midoriya was stupefied and immediately started flipping through his hero journal so he could see if he'd written anything on you. he hadn't—you'd appeared seemingly out of nowhere. he mumbled to himself and started looking you up, pouring over article after article, watching interview after interview.

bakugou was outraged—justifiably so, in his opinion. who was this fucking extra that stole the number one spot from him? he sneered at the picture of you on the official hero ranking website. he made a promise to himself then and there that he would beat you, no matter what it would take.

after so many years of vying against each other, midoriya and bakugou finally had a common goal that didn't involve fighting between themselves. and that was to win against you.

but you wouldn't make it easy for them, that was for sure.

and if they found themselves developing teeny little crushes as they saw you more and more, practically inserting themselves into your life in an attempt to topple you from the number one spot, well... that wasn't anyone's business now, was it?