#every student in the department wants to work with him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 7 months

Text

❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈'𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) ❞

❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S A DEPARTMENT HEAD !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part four of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you and suguru enter a new phase in your relationship— long distance. the two of you work hard to keep your relationship alive and well — but what happens when distance and work starts to weigh on your time together?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, long distance relationship, phone sex, shower sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, yuta appears *gasp*, fanart found on pinterest (if anyone knows the og artist, pls let me know)

✧ wc: 14,288 | part one | part two | part three

“Baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “c’mon, you have to wake up, we can’t be late,” your boyfriend groans, pulling the covers over his head, and you giggle, gently tugging at the comforter held taut over his head.

“No,” he’s murmuring, as you roll your eyes, “a few more minutes,”

“A few minutes for you will turn into a few hours,” you chuckle, as your fingers finally find the inside of the comforter.

And you’re finally able to pull it off, Suguru’s long locks askew as his pretty obsidian eyes flutter half open, and your lips curl.

How did you get so lucky?

Your fingers run over his cheek, before you press a kiss to his forehead, “C’mon Mr. Department Head, you’re going to be late at this rate — you have to get the keys to your new apartment today and you have a meeting with the staff too,”

Suguru groans, his lips in a rare pout — mornings were truly his most vulnerable times, “Does it have to be today?” He draws close to you, burying his face in your neck, and your fingers slowly rake through his locks, gently easing the knots that formed in the night.

“Unfortunately yes,” you murmur, your fingers tucking a few locks behind his ear, “but I’ll be visiting you in two weeks, it will pass by quick,” it did feel like forever — but you knew it wouldn’t be. The summer would end one way or another and now he was leaving for Kyoto — officially three weeks before classes start, “and we’ll be spending the whole week together — we can explore a little more than we got to before,”

“I know,” he still is surely unconvinced, moving back to look up at you with certifiably the cutest purse of his lips, his warm hand finding your cheek, “but then why does every minute without you feel so much longer?”

Your lips find his in a lazy kiss, your hand sliding to the nape of his neck, his soft locks brushing against your knuckles, “But that will make the minutes we do spend together that much more special, right?”

He hums, pressing his forehead against yours, “how are you so positive about this?” And you sigh, your nose bumping against his, as you press a chaste kiss to his lips again.

“Because it’s the only way I can not completely break down,” you sigh, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you back into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, heart thudding nearly right under your ear, “what time do you have to leave?”

He glances at his phone, “not for another two hours,” and you curl up, fingers sliding against his smooth skin.

“Then a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt,” you murmur.

And you’d take any minute that you could get with him, especially now.

~~~

“Do you have everything?” Suguru never knew quite how much you could fuss over him, until the last few days. You seemed to obsess over every detail — his credentials, his electronics, his clothes — it’s as if you wanted everything squared away — and you simply couldn’t focus on anything else.

Because, you probably didn’t want to.

“I do, I have everything — I have things I didn’t need that you put in the car,” you pout as he chuckles, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss the pout from your lips, “I’ll be okay, I’ll call you as soon as I get there,” he murmurs, “can you pack yourself up and get in the car? Then I’ll really have everything I need,”

You blink rapidly, as if to ward off tears, as you can’t quite meet his gaze, “I wish I could,” you murmur, as your arms wrap around him, and his do the same, pulling you into a tight hug, “how am I going to survive the next two weeks without you?”

“It’s just two weeks right? Like you said it will pass by quick—“

You shake your head, “I just said that to make you feel better,” you look up at him, glassy eyed, “I changed my mind, stay here,” you whine, and he laughs, running his fingers through your hair.

“Think it’s a little late for that sweetheart,” he sighs, his fingers sliding under your chin, “after all, you packed up the rest of my things into my car, so unless I’m living out of it—“

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, as you rub your eyes, and he pulls your hands away gently, kissing your tears away, “I’ll miss you so much,”

“Not as much as me,” and you lean up to kiss him, a sweet kiss that only leaves him aching for more. Why was it the more he had of you — the more he always needed? He knew these first two weeks would be the hardest, but honestly, he’s not sure if it would ever get easier.

Because he needs you. Always.

“Ah wait,” you smile, reaching into your pocket, “you forgot one thing—” and you pull out a key, and he tilts his head, “it’s a key to my place,”

And he blinks, “You don’t—”

“I want to,” you kiss him again, even softer somehow, “please take it,” so he does, as you place the piece of metal into his palm, “plus, it’s practical, if I’m not around, you can let yourself in,”

“Make myself comfortable?” his lips quirk.

“Very comfortable,” you press your forehead to his again, “Go,” you murmur, you pull away reluctantly, his body already mourning the loss of your touch, your fingers still intertwined, “otherwise, I’ll just block your car with my body to get you to stay,”

He rolls his eyes, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “I’d like to see that,” he presses his forehead to yours, “promise you’ll stop me from ever accepting a job that makes me be away from you for any amount of time again?”

“Now that’s a promise I’ll keep,” you squeeze his fingers one last time, “I think it’s what’s owed to us isn’t it?”

He knows he would never be able to repay what he owes you for everything you’ve done for him — how happy you’ve made him—

“It is,” he smiles, one last kiss to your lips, as he slips into the driver’s seat before he can change his mind.

—But he would try.

~~~

When you go back to your apartment — it feels far too empty. Even though Suguru didn’t live with you — it felt as if he had made a place for himself here, and he had, but he had left it. For now, you remind yourself. His place would be here for him, when he came back.

But it turned out two weeks was a lot of time to kill when you still hadn’t started classes — your days filled with nothing but time for you to spend. None of your friends from class had made it back yet either — so you were stuck trying to find things to do. Suguru was busier than expected — dragged to meeting after meeting and showed off more than a show dog to the department’s professors, alumni, and donors. Suguru often fell asleep on the phone with you, his soft snores filling your ears, as you fell asleep along with him.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if all semester would be like this — especially once his classes started. You understood — you did — this is what you signed up for and it was far from Suguru’s fault. But you couldn’t help but miss him. And that wasn’t surprising — but what was surprising was how much you missed him.

Your bed was bought for one, but now it felt empty with only you occupying it — a cold barren front without your usual refuge in his arms. And the days weren’t bad — you found things to keep you busy — but the evenings and weekends that you usually had spent with Suguru dragged like a child dragged their feet at the grocery store — reluctantly and without patience.

So maybe you needed to do the same that you’d do for a restless child — a distraction.

“Do you know of any organizations I could join?” You had asked Suguru on one of your video call dinner dates — and he hummed thoughtfully as he picked up soba noodles between his chopsticks, “I just feel like I need something to fill my time,”

“The semester hasn’t even started and you’re already thinking about other things to do?” He raises an eyebrow, and you suppress a giggle at the sight of a bit of the soup that remained on the side of his chin. The very same you wished that you could thumb away for him, “my favorite student is as ambitious as always,”

“Your girlfriend is even more so,” you roll your eyes, as you gesture to your own face to signal, and he wipes his, “c’mon, I know my favorite professor must have something to recommend. I know how he looooves to give me suggestions,”

And he snorts, setting his chopsticks down on his bowl as he finishes his meal, “Then I suggest you think about joining the student government — they have a specific section for graduate students and professors, it would be a good opportunity for you to branch out, and put the philosophy department’s brightest on the map,”

Your lips curl at the compliment, “you think I’m the brightest?”

“I was talking about myself,” and you roll your eyes, as he smirks at you, as he picks up his phone and his dishes to clean up, “I think it would be perfect. Why don’t you speak to Yaga about it? He was trying to goad me into recommending some students,”

“So this really is self-serving, huh?” the water of the sink runs in the background, as you do the same, placing your dishes in the sink — tomorrow’s problem — as you washed your hands, “what would I even know about student government anyway?”

“Philosophy has a lot to do with governance, you know that — Cicero, Plato, Aquinas, Machiavelli—“

“Saving the most benevolent philosopher for last,” and you can hear him chuckle, as the water squeaks shut, and he picks up his phone, a smile playing on his lips, “do you think I could help?”

“I think you can do anything, sweetheart, except get a 100% in my class,” and you gape at him, as he laughs, and your heart aches for that sound, more than you thought was possible, “you should do it, what’s stopping you?”

And you bite your lip — yes, you wanted to be busier, but you didn’t want to be too busy for this. To spend time with Suguru — no matter how little it was. But you knew it would be good for you — for both of you. The last thing you wanted was to be needy — even if this week was proving that you were needier than you thought you were.

“Nothing I guess,” you sigh, as you make your way to your bedroom, “I’ll email Professor Yaga in the morning,”

“Good,” Suguru is sat on his bed as well now, his phone propped up, “and your boyfriend has another suggestion,” and you raise an eyebrow, “I suggest my favorite student brings my favorite t-shirt with them when they come to visit me,”

You gasp in mock shock, “You gave this shirt to me,”

“No, I asked you where it was and you said you packed it already, but I see you pilfered it away when I wasn’t looking,” he tilts his head, “now take it off,”

“Professor, that’s not a proper way for a department head to speak to a student,” you still let the shirt ride up as you lean back against your pillows, “have you not gotten your ethics training yet about appropriate behavior?”

“That’s interesting, you didn’t seem to mind last night when you asked me to send you a very improper picture of my lower half fresh out of the shower,” and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips, but your expression grows more serious.

“So it’s all about quid pro quo, Professor?” you sigh exaggeratedly, before pulling the shirt off, “I’ll take it off, but how about if you let me keep it, I’ll give you something else?”

God, you know that look in his eye, and you just wished he could do what he wanted — his fingers would find your waist and your back, pulling you quick and eager into his lap — his hard-on pressing through the thin material of his sweatpants he wore around the apartment.

“And what would that be?” And the shirt finally up and over, a soft gasp leaving his lips at the sight of your bare body, only your shorts left on. You smile.

“Me, of course,” and he’s adjusting his phone, face up, a small groan leaving his lips, “sir?”

“Is that all you’re offering, sweetheart?” and you hear the slight shuffle of fabric, “because that shirt is quite special to me,”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips as you see him come back into focus with his phone in hand, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your chest and back, “Is it?”

“If you remove your clothes, I’ll forgive this small transgression,” and his other hand is out of sight, no doubt stroking himself, though you were no better, fingers toying with your cunt through your drenched panties.

“I think that price might be too high, Professor— you might have to give me something in return,” you smile, toying with the elastic of your shorts, and he bites his lip, gaze heavy even through the screen of your phone.

“And what do you want, princess?”

“I thought it was obvious,” as you slip off your shorts, propping up your phone on the pillow designated usually for him, nothing else underneath, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he’s hissing, as you can hear the distinct sound of the squelch of his hand running up and down his cock, “sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

And your fingers are teasing your wet folds, imagining it was his own, his thick fingers sinking into one by one, he’d fill you so much better than you do — “show me, Suguru,” He does, flipping the camera to show his erection — flushed red and pretty — beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip, “all this just for me?” And your fingers push past your entrance, a gasp leaving your lips, “my fingers aren’t enough for me, Sugu—“

“show me now, let me tell you how to fuck yourself,” and you’re nodding, hand shaking as you flip the camera around to show your fingers notched inside, gleaming with your pre, dripping down your knuckles, “move,” and you do, slowly at first, and his hand moves too, starting to fuck his fist, “faster, curl your fingers just like I would,” and you do, a whine leaving your lips, “good girl,” he grunts.

The sounds of both of your pants and moans fill your ears, your eyes fluttering open to watch him touch himself, “Tease the tip for me, baby,” you murmur, fucking yourself deeper, when you see him thumb his slit, “wish I could taste you, suck you off, until you’re cumming down my—“

“Princess—“ you know he’s close by the way his dick twitches in his fingers and the way his lips moan your name, “add another finger,” and you do — fuck, the stretch is nothing like his cock, but you can almost imagine it is, “I’m sure you’ve gotten tight without me to fuck you — have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?” You bite your lip, your hesitation was all the answer he needed, “what do you think about?”

“Think about you,” you’re fucking close too, your fingers drenched in your own precum, “think about you coming back, about you kissing me at the door before pinning me against it,” And he’s groaning, the sounds of his hand pumping his cock ringing in your ears, you can’t hang on— “Suguru—please—“

“Be a good girl, and cum for me, sweetheart,” and you do, your toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you do, phone slipping from your fingers, as you hear him groan too, the distinct sound of his cum splattering against his sheets.

You both come down from your highs, pulling your fingers from your cunt, grabbing tissues from your bedside table to wipe off your hands.

“Sugu?” You pick up your phone, and your boyfriend does the same, his cheeks flushed a gorgeous red, slightly more rumpled than before. And you can’t help but wish you could lean over and kiss him as you would, running your fingers through his hair, “I miss you,”

He sighs, gaze filled with affection and longing, “I miss you too, so much — you have no idea, princess,” as you tug his shirt back on, and you lie back, turning on your side, “just one more week,”

“I’m counting the days,” you murmur

“I’m counting the seconds,” and you snort, his lips curled in the damned smile that dragged you into his mess.

“Always have to one up me don’t you?” you bury your nose in the fabric of the shirt, the scent still very distinctly him.

“It is my job after all,” and you smile, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” but you know where this is going — as it always did almost every weekday night.

“I should hang up — I have to clean up and—“

“Review for meetings before bed, I know,” you finish and he raises an eyebrow, “very predictable, Professor Geto,”

“I’ll work on that — watch, I’ll surprise you,” and you chuckle, but you can’t help but frown, “what is it?” and you shake your head, “sweetheart,” and you know he won’t let it go.

“Just call me after you’re done, before bed, okay?” you sit up, glancing at your shorts on the floor, shifting uncomfortably with the wetness between your thighs, “I have to change my shorts and my sheets,”

“You’re welcome,” and you roll your eyes, his lips curled in a small smile reserved just for you, “love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” the call ends, and you’re left looking at your lock screen, a sigh caught in your throat.

Just one more week.

~~~

You stood before the door of one of the university's conference rooms — on one of the floors you did not tend to frequent. You spent most of your time in the classrooms if not the library — but you had attended a few meetings up here for one reason or another. But this was the first time you were walking into a room in quite a long time that you didn’t know anyone.

The student government met once before the semester started — a getting to know you forum for new members, such as yourself. There was no real formal election process for your position as senator — as long as other students were not vying for the position. And luckily for you, no other philosophy graduate student had chosen to volunteer for this entirely optional and unpaid position — a mystery really.

But the nerves still remained — though there was nothing more to do than enter. So you did — opening the door and finding the room filled with quite a few faces, but none of them familiar. You took a seat in a relatively empty section, but adjacent to enough faces, an empty seat on either side of you. The people around you chatted, while you pulled a notebook and pen out — your phone face down on the table, before you grab it and shoot Suguru a quick text.

You: in my first student government meeting! wish me luck!!

The meeting started without much formalities — a simple round table introduction that had you close to going last, but you had a chance to learn more about the other graduate students — most of them were students representing different departments, as you were, while there was also the traditional roles of president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer.

Eyes slid to you now, the president gesturing to you, her name escaping you, “And our newest member,”

They finally turned to you as you waved to the group, introducing yourself by name, “I’m a graduate student in the philosophy department, I’m a third year in the program, and I heard about the group from my department head—”

“Professor Geto?” one of the girls piped up, a literature graduate student who you didn’t recognize, but you were sure had taken Suguru’s class or at least had heard about him.

You shook your head, forcing a polite smile on your lips, “Professor Yaga actually told me about it,” she nods, and the president claps her hands together.

“Alright, this meeting is just to mingle and get to know each other, so please enjoy the refreshments and food provided,” and her eyes flicker down, “I think we’re only missing one person from the group—”

And the door bursts open, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to run late—” a student with dark black hair that rested past his chin, bangs that framed his face on either side, and a small smile on his lips.

“Students keep you again, Yuta?” the president asks, and the dark haired boy known as Yuta slipped into the room, and took a seat beside you, sighing with a nod, as he set down his things, “good timing, you can help our newest member get acclimated,”

His eyes flicker to you, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’d be happy to,” and the group begins to get up to grab food and refreshments, as Yuta offers you his hand, “I’m Yuta Okkotsu, it’s nice to meet you.”

~~~~

“I hope you stay a part of the organization,” your eyes snap up at Yuta’s words — a curious look on his face, “you just seemed a little overwhelmed in there,” he tilts his head, as the two of you walk towards the metro station, “I may be wrong, but—”

“No I was,” for someone who looked so…innocent, he was really observant — his dark eyes felt like they could pierce right through you — even if he wouldn’t let them do so, “it was a lot — I’ve never been a part of a formal structure like this so it was just a lot—”

“It’s not as formal as you think — the proceedings do drag on but Maki, the president, tends to skip the formalities for the most part — she’s as bored of them as you are,” he chuckles, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, “usually the meetings don’t take very long — the events mostly take up our time when it comes to planning and organizing, but we hold a couple in conjunction with other organizations so that helps take the load off,” he explains, “we also organize issues important to the students to present to the president of the university quarterly, so we tend to have more meetings around that time, but we schedule the meetings after midterms, and after finals, so it doesn’t interfere with studying,” and then he catches himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, I’m going on and on, I should have just asked you if you had questions instead,”

“No, it was really helpful, Yuta,” you smile, “you’re very thorough,” and you don’t notice how a faint flush appears across his cheeks.

“I was new last year to the organization, and I remember being really overwhelmed — the professor I usually T.A. for roped me into it, he’s been away on research for the last year or so, but I stayed apart of it, because,” he shrugged, a smile on his lips, “I made some really good friends, and I hope you do too,”

You pull out your phone, no reply from Suguru, a small sigh on your lips — it’s fine, he’s busy, “Good friends are exactly what I need right now I think,” you check the time — Suguru wouldn’t be out of meetings for dinner at this rate, “do you want to grab dinner? I know a good ramen spot not far from here,”

“Sounds great,” and you led the way, not noticing the way Yuta’s eyes lingered on you a second too long, before he started to follow you, keeping pace beside you.

A week would pass by quick.

~~~

“What time will you be here?” Suguru asked, as you had him on your laptop this time on video call to watch you pack for the couple days you were spending with him before the semester started.

“I’m taking the 8:00 AM train, so I’ll get there probably by 10:15, so like two hours,” you weren’t sure how much to pack — you didn’t want to do a ton of laundry right before classes started, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to wear, “can you come here pack for me and go back?”

He snorts, “I’ll be right over, but at that point, wouldn’t it be more conducive for me to just stay with you?”

“But I want to come see you,” you pout, and he shrugs, as his eyes flicker up from his work.

“Then you’re going have to pack,” and you give a heavy sigh, continuing to choose what clothes to take. Your phone goes off and it’s a text from Yuta;

Yuta: hey! are you free next week to get dinner after the meeting? But this time I’m choosing the restaurant :)

You pick up your phone and text back: if it’s that chapati place you mentioned, I’m down — otherwise, you’ll have to deal with my severe disappointment

Yuta: I’ll have to leave you in suspense then

You snort, tossing your phone down, as your eyes go back to the screen to find Suguru smiling at you, “What?”

“Just enjoying the view,” and your cheeks burn, as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you mumble, rolling up a shirt in a hurry in a manner that definitely doesn’t qualify as folding, “what view? Me in an oversized t-shirt and shorts?”

“Exactly, with that pretty smile on your lips? Best thing on anytime,” he replies, and you bite back that same smile he complimented — but it’s the one reserved for him.

“You dork,” you mutter, “don’t say cute things or I’ll take the last train tonight to see you sooner,”

“I’d never make you do that so I’ll stop, for now,” he sighs, resting his cheek on his palm, his gaze growing a little more heady, “but tomorrow? I’ll be sure to tell you every single thing I love about you,”

And your lips curl, as you sigh, “I love you, but you should get some rest and I should finish packing and do the same,”

He gives a small smile, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty girl,”

“I’ll be the one running into your arms,”

“Undoubtedly very late,”

“What was that? The sound of me missing my train tomorrow?” And he laughs, as you cross your arms, head held far too high, “that’s right. I’m holding myself hostage,”

“Well if you’re both hostage and hostage negotiator, tell both of you that I’ll bring you your favorite drink and buy you the breakfast of your choice,” and you peek at him, “coming around?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, you better have the ransom ready,” you let a smile escape your lips, “I love you,”

“I love you too, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and he hangs up after, and you sigh — tomorrow, finally.

You’ll see him again — you just hoped these few days didn’t pass by quickly.

~~~

Suguru waited at the station for you, your preferred hot beverage in hand, along with your requested pastry, both in hand as he waited. He opted to have his hair up in a bun due to the weather, a slight wind that carried the warning of fall in the crisp air that morning. But not whenever a snowstorm could have kept him from you that morning — it had been far too many days and nights spent without you by his side while spending them instead in stuffy rooms filled with colleagues and donors.

But now — and he sees people pour from the platform, a throng of harried travelers looking to get to their next destination, and among them all, he spots you — with the red suitcase you insisted made it easier to find amongst the others (it didn’t).

And he’s approaching you, slipping past others, and your eyes find his, your lips in a grin at the sight of him, as you find your way into his arms in a moment — suitcase clattering to the floor probably to the other travelers’ dismay. But he grabbed the handle and turned it upright in a moment, before his arm curled back around you.

“Hi,” you whisper, and he could have stood there forever — it had felt like forever since he had held you. His palm cupped your cheek, a thumb brushing back and forth against the length of it.

“You always know how to make an entrance sweetheart,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, as your fingers intertwine slowly but surely — as if they hadn’t parted, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

“Uh-huh, don’t act like I forgot about the ransom I’m owed,” and he’s rolling his eyes, as he takes your luggage, wrapping an arm around you, “where is it?”

“In the car, how about we stop by my apartment, drop off your things, rest for a bit and then we can grab breakfast, as promised?” You smile, leaning into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“As long as it’s with you.”

~~~

“You made breakfast for me?” you gasp, as he had set the table with all the breakfast staples — “i thought we were going to ‘grab breakfast?’”

Suguru wipes his hands, as he brings over two pairs of clean chopsticks and sits beside you, “Well I thought you might be tired from the train ride so I thought we could have breakfast in and relax before going out before lunch,”

You take the chopsticks from him, fingers brushing as you do, leaning into his side, “It’s not fair being this perfect,” you murmur, your head against his shoulder, nose brushing against the soft fabric of his t-shirt and his skin, “when are you going to show me your flaws?”

“I think I’ve shown plenty of those the last few months with how things have went before we even began dating,” his lips brush against your forehead, “now I just want to treasure you — as much as I can,”

“Me too,” you lean up and meet his lips in a soft kiss that steals the logic from your head and the air from your lungs — and only leaves his touch behind, “Suguru…” and you want to admit to him how hard it’s been without him, how much harder it's been than what you expected — and how you worried about how hard would it get during the semester, when you both were busy? “I really missed you,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and you speak before he can get even a syllable out, “but I’m so glad we’re together now,”

He didn’t need to know — he would only feel bad. You could handle it—

“Me too,” his gaze is soft, as he pulls back to find your lips in another achingly gentle kiss.

For him.

~~~~

“This weekend is supposed to be for you, why are you shopping for me?” Suguru says yet again as you peruse another homegoods store, looking for something to decorate what you claimed were the “barren landscape” of his apartment, “we should do something you want to,”

“This is something I want to do,” as you inspect a globe with the same scrutiny you’d apply to a Aristotelian text — brow furrowed in thought as if this knick knack would give you some unintelligible insight on metaphysics (it did not), “you’re going to be living there for a while, I want you to have an apartment that doesn’t look like a serial killer resides there,”

“Why does it look like that?”

“Because it doesn’t look lived in,” you pick up a set of matching bookends, “these things make your house look lived in and feel welcoming,” and then you put the bookends down thoughtfully, “although we should start with more basic things, like frames and a full length mirror,”

“Well if I look like a serial killer, you don’t have to worry about anyone who comes over, because they will think I’m a murderer and feel very unwelcome,” and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with him, “I don’t care about other people — I care about you, so will this make you happy?”

You nod, “Because I want you to feel happy here, and that will make me happy,”

And he wants to say the only thing that would make him really happy would be if you lived here with him — to wake up beside you each morning, to come home to you each evening, and fall asleep beside you — but he couldn’t say that. It would almost be cruel to say something that wasn’t possible right now. But it would be — it would be possible.

“Okay, let’s find some things,” his arm curls around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “but remember, you do love this serial killer,”

“That’s only because I’m far too wonderful to murder,” and he rolls his eyes, as the two of you continue to shop, and he watches you continue to pick up and examine things — and he can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like when you both shop for your place together. And he bites back a smile.

Only a few more months — and you could be together. It wasn’t forever.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

~~~~

“You said no work while I was here,” you were doing your best pout if only to change his mind, but he was unrelenting, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and his lips in a purse at his desk in his bedroom, “Suguruuuuu,” you’re officially whining, and you know it’s not his fault, but you have such little time with him, you don’t want a minute to be wasted.

“I know, sweetheart, but Yaga wants to speak about the semester starting, and I didn’t have much of a choice—” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips pressing kisses to the hollow of his throat, “princess—” he groans.

“I want to get in my cuddles before,” and your teeth graze the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he sucks in air between his teeth, “how long is your meeting?”

“About half an hour,” and you hum, kissing his lips, languid and slow, your fingers threading his lengthy tresses, “it’s about to start—” and you’re kneeling down in front of his chair, as the video call starts to go off, as you look up at him between his knees, “sweetheart—” he’s hissing, wide eyes, as you undo his belt and the zipper of his pants.

“Then let’s not waste any time,” you grin, toying with the waistband of his boxers, “pick up the call.”

And you thought he would kick you out from underneath, nudging you away, and you would relent if he really didn’t want this — but he doesn’t. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he picks up the call, placing his earbuds in his ear.

“Hi Professor Yaga,” Suguru says, and you’re almost surprised how normal he sounds with you between his legs, but Yaga can’t see the way his muscles tense when your fingers spring his already half hard cock free, “Yes, we do have a couple things to cover. No, I don’t mind starting,”

Well if he insists, you’d start too.

Your fingers slowly stroke him to fully erect, pre-cum dripping over your fingers as you do, your eyes flickering up to see his expression still perfectly normally, the only telltale sign being the way his fingers white knuckled the armrest just out of sight. His cock was so unfairly pretty — a deep red at the tip with a slight curve that had your thighs pressing together at the thought of it sinking into you. Your lips press a kiss to the tip and he wavers mid sentence, as you smirk against his cock, as your mouth parts to suck him off.

And it seems like Yaga is the one speaking now, as he seemingly mutes himself, resting his chin against his hand, covering his mouth with his fingers, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he swears under his breath, as your tongue traces along one of his veins, sucking at the tip, as your fingers drift to toy with his balls.

The tip of your tongue flicks against his weeping slit, bobbing your head along the length, as a hand of his drifts down to thread in your locks, nails digging into your scalp.

“S-sorry, what was that?” he seemingly unmuted himself at a question, and you’re sucking even harder, nose brushing against his pubes as his tip brushes against your throat, “N-no, I’m fine, sorry, I’m not feeling well,”

You suck one more time, and he’s gone, as he barely can mutes himself and turns off his camera, groaning, as he spills down your throat, as you swallow it, his head thrown back against the headrest of his chair. And he’s panting, as he looks down at you, half lidded and lost in pleasure, gaze darkening as he watches you pull away, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his softening cock, as you adjust his boxers and clothes.

“What happened to Yaga?” and his glance tells you he certainly does not care — chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Disconnected after I went silent — I’ll tell him my internet went out,” and you’re slowly rising out from between his legs, and his fingers find your waist, tugging you close, “you really are a bad influence,” and his lips find yours, your fingers cupping his cheek.

“I told you I didn’t want to waste time,” you grin, and in one smooth motion, he’s dragging you into his bed, giggling leaving your lips as he showers you with kisses, “Suguru!” you yelp as you fall backwards into his plush bed, and he’s tugging off your shorts and panties with ease, folding your legs up, one of them brushing against his shoulder, as he kisses your inner thigh, a smile against your heated skin.

“My turn.”

~~~~

“How did this week go so quickly?” you sigh, burying your face in his chest on Friday night, knowing you have to get on a train tomorrow morning, “it’s not fair, it’s not enough time,” you murmur, tracing circles on his skin, “and now I don’t get to see you for a month,”

“I know, I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “but it will pass by quick — you’ll be busy with classes and I’ll be busy with work — it won’t be as bad as we think,” And you don’t want to admit your fears to him — it would make it all too real, as if they would emerge from the syllables your lips spoke into a new reality before you — and you couldn’t take that risk, no matter how illogical it was.

“I know, I just can’t imagine spending this much time apart,” you glance at him, “don’t know what I did without you before, I don’t even remember what I spent my time doing,”

“Revising the essays I made you write?” and you pinch his cheek, and he’s laughing, “sorry, couldn’t resist making that joke,”

“Yeah, I recall you couldn’t resist me either,” and his fingers drag lazily over your cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Well, who really could resist you?” he sighs, content seemingly in just the act of touching you, “I tried and failed — and I am a master at resisting temptation,”

“A paragon of morality truly,” and he snorts, as you kiss his neck sweetly, ghosting over the places you had left marks, “though there was definitely nothing moral about what we just did,”

Your lips find his again, a lazy kiss that grows slowly with more heat the more your lips meet again and again and again — until he’s parting, “It’s just a month,” he says as if he can sense your anxiety, “I’ll come see you, I promise,”

“So if you don’t come, I can summon Immanuel Kant to scold you for not fulfilling your promise?” and he laughs.

“A scolding from you would be far more effective, but Kant is able to come if he can make it — death’s a worse commute than to Tokyo,”

“Who says?” you mumble, pressing your forehead to his, “you’ll take me to the station?”

“Of course,” and you have only one request.

“Don’t come inside ok?” his brow furrows, but you softly smooth it with the back of your knuckles, “Otherwise, I’ll end up crying — and I rather not subject you or the passengers near me to that,” and he chuckles, a frown still on his lips.

“Are you sure?”

It wasn’t just the crying — you knew if he walked you to your train, you’d want to make him come with you or let yourself stay — and you couldn’t do that, not to either of you. This was temporary — it wouldn’t be forever—

“I’m sure.” you kiss his lips again, rolling over so you were on top, your bodies brushing against each other with the familiar heat you’d miss when you were back home again.

—so why did it feel like forever?

~~~

“You promised me a better meal and this place nearly burned my taste buds off,” you grumble, as the two of you stand outside the restaurant, rain pounding against the awning as it starts to come down, the spicy food from the chapati place doing little to keep you warm now against the frigid wind of the autumn carrying the promise of being drenched with it.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Yuta chuckles, holding a hand out for the rain, “now at least the spice will help on the way home,”

“The only good thing about this place is that it's close to my apartment. I have a ton of work to do already — and it’s only the first week of classes,” you sigh, pulling out your umbrella, and glancing at him, hands still empty and unmoving. You hold up your umbrella, waving it, “Did you not bring one?” as you pull out your phone to check the weather reports.

“I didn’t know there was rain in the report for today,” he sighs, waving you off, “go ahead, I’ll wait for it to let up or find a convenience store nearby— I just need to make it back to the station—”

“Trains are down because of the storm,” you raise an eyebrow, as you glance at him, “come on, you can stay at my place,”

He’s shaking his head, holding his hands up, “No, I don’t want to—”

You tilt your head, glancing around at the clearing street and the distant rumble of thunder, “So are you going to camp out here outside this restaurant for the night or?” and he’s chewing his lip, as you chuckle, “it’s not far, we can share the umbrella, and hopefully we won’t get completely soaked,”

“Well, we’re not completely soaked,” you close the door behind you both, dripping water onto your floor, as you sigh, “hold on I’ll grab towels,” and you do, coming back quickly so you both can dry off.

And you notice the damage done to his clothes are far worse than yours, completely soaked through, the towel doing little to help aside from stopping the water from forming a larger puddle near your entryway.

“You held the umbrella mostly to my side, didn’t you?” And he pauses, his hesitation the answer you needed, as you sigh — “you’re more of a martyr than you need to be,”

“Well, I want to help my friends,” he gives a small smile.

“Even at the detriment of yourself?” And he shrugs.

“I can handle it,” and you shake your head, as you head to your closet pull out a fresh towel and clothes — but not your own.

“Go change,” and he glances at the clothes, hesitates, but takes them, as he frowns, “it’s fine, Yuta, go shower and change,” you show him where the bathroom is, and how to turn on the water.

You head to your bedroom to change and dry off, grabbing a fresh t-shirt and shorts — chewing on your lips — you had to give Yuta some of Suguru’s clothes you had stolen — your clothes wouldn’t exactly fit him properly. But you pouted, now you couldn’t sleep in Suguru’s shirt tonight, and you sighed, it was just as well — you had to wash the shirt so now it didn’t smell like him now.

You come out into the living room, hopping onto your couch and flipping on the TV, looking for something to watch. And then you hear the bathroom door, glancing behind you, “Done?”

“Yeah, thank you again for this,” he shifts in place, steam escaping from the bathroom behind him, his bangs still a little damp and cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink along his cheekbones, “what are you doing?”

“Just looking for something to watch,” and he comes over, sitting on the other side of the couch, “do you have any preference?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really,” and you choose a random movie to put on, a cheesy rom-com that had just come out on a streaming service, “is that what you like to watch?”

You shrug, running your fingers through your hair, “I like watching bad movies — it’s something I do usually while I do my work — the genius is, I don’t have to pay attention to follow the storyline,” and your eyes still on the TV, you don’t notice how his eyes linger on your face, a smile pulling on his lips, “now look at this, it’s the classic ‘guy likes girl, but girl is too dense to notice,” you shake your head, “does that even happen in real life?”

And Yuta parts his lips to reply when your phone rings, and you grab your phone — a video call — Suguru’s name flashing on your screen, and you can’t bite back the smile on your lips, “Hold on, I have to take this — just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be in the bedroom,”

You head into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, as you pick up the call, “Hey stranger,” you smile as his face comes into view, glasses perched on his nose, as he grins back at you, “I miss you,”

“I miss you too,” he rests his face against his hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk much — there have been a lot of issues popping up because its the first week — a lot of department requests from professors and students alike,”

“Mr. Bigshot Department Head has forgotten about his girlfriend, huh?” you mock pout, and he shakes his head, a longing gaze that makes your breath stutter in your chest.

“I could never forget you — how can I when all I dream about is you?” and you bite your lip, cheeks burning, “did I make you smile?”

“Shut up,” and he laughs, and then you hear a noise from the living room, a clatter that catches your attention.

“What was that?”

You wave him off, “It was just my friend, he’s staying over because of the rain — he’s in the living room,”

And he pauses for a moment, expression unreadable, “Which friend?”

“His name is Yuta — I met him during my first student government meeting — he’s kind of showing me the ropes,” and he nods, his silence palpable, gaze downwards and then it dawns on you, “Are you jealous?”

And his eyes flicker up, “Sweetheart—”

“Oh my god you are, that’s so cute,” you smile, as you delight in the slight dusting of pink that settles over his cheeks — he’s far too pretty for his own good, and your voice softens, “you have nothing to worry about, Suguru — I love you, no one else can even compete,”

He sighs, and you wish you could kiss him, “I know, I know — I’m just,” his brow furrows, his lips stuck in a frown, “I just miss you,”

“Then come over,” you tease, and he gives a small smile.

“You have company,” he reminds you, and you sigh, glancing at the door, “you should go back,”

“I’ll work on inventing an instant teleportation device,” a forced laugh leaves his lips, “Suguru, are you sure—”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine, really, just call me before bed if you have time okay?”

“Yeah of course, I love you,” a genuine smile gracing his lips.

“I love you too,” and you hang up, heading back out to find Yuta watching TV, “sorry about that,”

“It’s fine, is everything okay?” he glances at you, tilting his head, “nothing wrong?”

You shake your head, sitting down beside him, grabbing a cushion to place in your arms, “It was just my boyfriend — he usually calls me around this time,”

Yuta gives a slight nod, “Oh, is he away this weekend?”

“No, we’re long distance — he lives in Kyoto,” you explain, sighing, leaning back on the couch, “that’s why I took the call, otherwise, I would have called whoever back,”

“You don’t have to do that — you should be allowed to do whatever you need to. It’s your home,” and you smile, shaking your head before you toss the pillow at him, “w-what?”

“You’re important too, Yuta — you’re my friend and a guest — I’m not going to just leave you out here by yourself without saying anything,” you hold your hand out, “can I have the remote?” And he passes it to you, fingers brushing, as you flip through more movies and TV, “are you tired at all?”

His gaze stays straight ahead, as he shakes his head, “No, not yet,” and you’re choosing a movie to watch, his fingers clasped over each other — the warmth of your touch still lingering.

And you had no idea that his heart was aching at the thought of you being taken — much like the very someone who had taken you.

~~~

“I understand, Suguru, really I do,” and you did — you always did — but this time, it was a little hard to swallow.

It had been weeks since the two of you had seen each other, not over a screen. It was already a month and half into the new semester — and each time he was supposed to visit you, something or another came up — a faculty event, a staff meeting, grading to do, and god knows what else.

And you could bear it the other times — it wasn’t his fault. He had work to do. He had things he had to take care of with little choice in the matter. And you couldn’t always come to Kyoto either — not with your program in full gear and events for the student government around the corner.

No it wasn’t his fault — but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt — especially with what he was missing.

“I really tried to get time off — and I probably still can make it, but I might run late—“ Suguru’s sighing on the phone, and you know his brow is knit together — mind desperately trying to grasp at a solution, as if he thought hard enough one would emerge that he hadn’t considered.

Your footsteps pause, as you bite back your own sigh, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s okay, really — we can celebrate my birthday the next time—“

“It’s not okay, sweetheart,” he cuts you off, “I’m really going to try to make it. I’ll get my work done, or put it off—“

“I don’t want you jeopardizing work—“

“I’ll be fine, Princess — I want to be with you,” he says so softly that your refusals all but melt, “really, I do,”

You bite your lip, as you continue to make your way, weaving between the students herding towards their next classes, “Okay I just don’t want you stressing out or worrying—“

“I’ll be fine, just, make any plans you want to, okay? I don’t know what time I’ll get there on Saturday, but I’ll be there, okay?”

“You really don’t—“ you’re outside the room for your meeting, leaning against the wall.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, and your lips curl, fully submitting to his whims.

“You really don’t — know what time you’re getting here?” You nailed that — apparently not by his chuckle over the line, as you hear the tapping of his laptop as he checks train times.

He pauses, a rustling of papers, and a sigh, “I’m not sure, but once I’m on my way, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give a half hearted smile despite the fact no one would see it, “I’m outside my student government meeting, but I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Of course, good luck with your meeting, and I’ll call you around 8:00 PM?” And the two of you hang up and you’re left with disappointment hanging mid air — like a mystery waiting to be solved, wondering if you’ll be satisfied or saddened.

“What’s wrong?” your gaze snaps up to find Yuta, who offers a small smile, “are you disappointed that our meeting never starts on time? Because you should give up on that now,” you roll your eyes, as he holds the door open for you, and you step past him.

“It’s nothing,” you set your things down, sitting, as he takes his own seat beside you.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Yuta tilts his head, leaning on his arm, a hint of concern across his features in his slightly furrowed brow and pursed lips, “you don’t have to talk about it — but if you want to, I’m here,”

You lean back in your chair, “It’s just my boyfriend — he’s been really busy with work so we haven’t been able to see each other, and now…” your gaze fixes itself to the table in front of you, taking in the faint scratches on the laminate wood, a sigh caught in the back of your throat, “he’s not sure if he’ll make it this weekend for my birthday, he said he would try his best,” and you shake your head, “and I know it’s a little…childish, but—”

“It’s not childish,” he gently cuts you off, “it’s understandable to want to spend your birthday with the person you love,” he leans forward to meet your eyes, “how about this? We can hang out on your birthday until your boyfriend comes down, because I’m sure he will,”

“How do you know?” and other people begin to file into the room, as he offers you a small smile.

“Who would ever keep you waiting?”

~~~~

“You don’t usually call at this time,” you yawn, rolling over in bed, as you hear Suguru rustle on the other end too — it was already late and you had already buried yourself under your comforter, scrolling on your phone before bed (even though you knew very well that you shouldn’t).

“Sorry did I wake you, sweetheart?” and you hum.

“What do I get if you did?” he laughs, his voice making your heart flutter in two seconds flat, “my sleep comes at a very high price, Professor,”

“Oh I know, I’ve paid that price several times, and you have willingly given it to me as well,” your lips curling, you knew he was lying on his back as he always did before bed, arm under his head as he looked up at his ceiling, “what’s the price this time?”

“Video call me,” and he does in an instant, his face popping up on your screen, lips quirked upwards at the sight of your face, glasses perched on his nose.

“Such an easy price this time,” and you yawn, turning over in bed onto your side, hiding your pout in your pillow — god, you wished he was beside you right now.

“The late hour’s making me soft,” you say, a strand of black falling in front of his face, and you only wish you could reach over and run your fingers through his silky strands, “did you need something?”

“I need someone,” and you snort.

“Well, you have me, congratulations,” you turn over onto your back, “now what do you plan to do with me?”

He smiles that same smile that had stolen your heart from the start, “Treasure you? Kiss you? Love you?” and your lips curl again, “apparently get a poodle and a dozen cats with you,”

“That’s a guarantee,” and he smiles.

“If it will make you happy, then yes it is,” you purse your lips, “what?”

“What’s gotten into you?” And his eyes seem to flicker elsewhere for a moment, “Suguru?”

His lips form a full smile, “Happy birthday, princess,” and you blink, glancing at the clock and realizing it was midnight now, “each and every day with you in my life has been the happiest I have ever been and ever hoped to be. I spent my life searching for the meaning of life — but I didn’t find it, until I met you,” his voice is soft as tears burn at the corner of your eyes, “I don’t know what it is that I’m owed — but I don’t know what I did to deserve you,”

“I love you,” you whisper, “I wish I could hold you,” your fingers caress the screen, as if your touch could teach through it, and he presses a kiss to his hand.

“I love you too — and I promise I’ll hold you soon,” he lays back on his bed, “you’ll be sick of me soon enough,”

“Never,” you settle onto your pillow, “will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?”

He only smiles, “Anything for you.”

~~~

Anything but being able to be here by lunch or dinner at this rate. You checked your phone — only to find his last message — “I’m almost done. I’ll let you know when I leave for the station,”

But it had been over two hours and there had been no update — even after you had texted him twice to ask where he was. You were caught between worry and disappointment — anxiety pricking at your skin, enough to annoy but not enough to pierce through to full panic. And disappointment felt like a weight that hovered above your heart, close enough to feel, but not enough to hit yet.

You didn’t want to feel this. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that he was trying — and you didn’t resent him in the least for it. But that didn’t mean you wanted him here any less — especially after it had been almost two months without seeing each other.

And a knock at your door made your eyes snap over, as you tripped over yourself to get to the door, “Who is it?”

“It’s me—“ but it wasn’t Suguru — it was Yuta. And you opened the door, a small smile on your lips, as Yuta stood in a black sweater tucked into dark gray jeans, and a deep maroon jacket pulled over it, “happy birthday,”

“Oh, thanks—“ and you blink, “oh my god, we had plans I’m sorry — I forgot,” you groan, and he leans sideways to take a look at your apartment, spotting the blanket on your couch and a pillow.

“Did I interrupt your date with your couch?” you roll your eyes.

“You did actually, it was a good one too—“ he cuts you off with a look, “I don’t know if I really want to go out. I was thinking I’d just—“

“What? Sit here and become one with your couch?” he raises an eyebrow.

You pout, “Yuta, I don’t know. I think I rather stay home—“

And that’s what you had done all day — Suguru had checked in here and there — trying desperately to finish up work to make it for some part of your birthday but hadn’t checked in for two hours now. You were sure he was going to be on his way soon — but that didn’t make waiting any less depressing. Your phone even had sighed at you as you checked your messages for the millionth time to find no new ones — low battery life only taunting you in return.

“That’s what you’ve done all day — I’m sure your boyfriend would want you to go out and have fun—“ he crosses his arms in front of your doorway, “come on, we can just go watch a movie, no big deal — we can have some fun and kill a few hours, okay?”

And you stare at your phone again, before locking it — “let’s go,”

~~~~

Finally, Suguru sat down right as the train began to roll forward — he had barely made it. The meetings stacked up the day before had put far behind on his grading — he nearly couldn’t make it.

Not if he hadn’t stayed up until 3:00 AM.

He checked his phone — he should make it by 5:00 PM, which should leave plenty of time for dinner and he checked his bag for your gift — it was just what you wanted — a necklace you had pointed out to him, a dragon with multi-colored gems. He laid against the seat, his forehead leaning against the cool glass.

God, he missed you.

It had been too long. Since he had even seen your face not through his phone screen and heard your voice whisper in his ear not through his cellphone. But that’s all he saw and heard of you lately.

He didn’t know the department would be this much of a mess when he took over. The last department head was truly enjoying his retirement months before it began. It was enough he had his department head duties but to teach two classes on top of that was enough for work to pile up until it was untenable. And he was unavailable.

How many times had he fallen asleep on the phone with you? How many times had he canceled plans to come see you? How many times had he missed dates?

And how many more would there be?

He knew you said everything was fine, he knew you understood his circumstance, he knew it wouldn’t be forever — but still — he wrung his fingers in his lap — why did it feel like it already had been forever? Since he had seen you smile, seen you laugh, held your hand, kissed your lips — it felt as if you were disappearing from his grasp.

But he wouldn’t let it happen — he couldn’t.

~~~

“Please turn your cellphone off and place it in these bags before entering the movie,” the ticket attendant told you and Yuta as he handed you both your tickets for something called, Human Earthworm 4, handing you both phone pouches.

You knit your brow together, “But—”

“This is an early screening of the movie, so the staff has been told that all persons seeing this movie today must lock their phones in these pouches before entering the theater,” the attendant explains, gesturing to the cardboard cutout of the movie with a sign that said ‘early screening’ in bold letters, “otherwise you could exchange your tickets for a different movie,” you purse your lips — you had been looking forward to seeing this movie, especially early. And Yuta had even bought the tickets ahead of time after hearing you talk about it at one of the student government meetings.

Yuta’s eyes slide to you, “We can see another—”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, giving a small smile, “Let me just send a quick text,” you step away for a moment, texting Suguru — I’m going into a movie, I have to turn off my phone. Let me know when you’re on the train.

You lock your phone with a sigh, placing it in the bag — either way, he hadn’t texted, so you were sure he wasn’t on the train yet. And you weren’t sure if he would even make it. It was fine — you glanced at Yuta, walking over to the movie theater — it really was.

Because it wouldn’t be forever.

~~~~

The screech of the train jerks Suguru awake, his eyes burning, as he glances out the window — the sun beginning to give up the sky already, starting its descent. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand as he checks the time — fuck, it had been an hour already. He leans back, glancing through his notifications and he sees a text from you.

Fuck, he had forgotten to respond to your messages earlier. He was a mess trying to get to the station, a flurry of papers, caffeine, and adrenaline — and he had spotted your messages before he left the office, only to make a mental note to reply once he was on the train. Where that note had been left in the recesses of his mind he could only guess.

He types: I’m so sorry, sweetheart — in my rush to get here, I didn’t let you know — I’m on the train already—

And then he pauses, he could surprise you — at your apartment. You’d be home after about an hour it seemed by the time he got to your place — it was perfect. He could pick up your cake (the one he had pre-ordered) and set everything up just in time — and then he could take you out for the dinner he had promised you.

He deletes the text, rewriting it — I’m so sorry sweetheart. I just finished work. I should be there by 7:00 PM. I love you. I’ll see you soon, birthday girl.

He sends the message, a smile on his lips — maybe there was something special he could do today, as he watches the train continue on its way.

He only hoped it would work out in his favor.

~~~

“It was perfect — the metaphor? Did you not see the metaphor?” Yuta nodding along to your rant as the two of you make it back to your apartment, “I know it seems like a dumb movie but if you read between the lines—” and you glance at Yuta, who continues to nod, and you stare, “you hated the movie, didn’t you?”

“No, no, I didn’t—” and then you raise an eyebrow, “it was really bad — have you seen good movies before?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “There’s no accounting for taste,”

“Clearly,” he replies, and you push him playfully, crossing your arms, as he grins back at you, “well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, that’s the important part,”

“And you got to bully me about my movie taste so that’s a lovely end to the evening,” he snorts, as the two of you make it outside your apartment door, “thanks for dragging me out — it was really nice,” you dig in your bag for your keys, “it was fun,”

“I’m glad I could help — I hope I made your day a little better,”

“You already do that by just being you, Yuta,” you pull your keys out, your phone slipping out with it — “shoot,” you kneel down and Yuta does too, fingers brushing as you pick it up — as your phone springs back to life, “shit, I guess i forgot to turn it back on,” as you rise, beginning to unlock your door as your texts start to come through — and you blink, right as you turn the knob, slowly reading the first message as you open the door only spotting Suguru’s back through the crack in the door.

Fuck. And you quickly shut the door.

“You okay?” Your eyes flicker up, forcing a small smile, as Yuta tilts his head.

“Yeah, sorry — my boyfriend is inside I think,” your mind in a dizzying panic, “I should go talk to him, alone,” you shift from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward — but it seems to work, as Yuta nods.

“Right, of course, I”ll go,” he bites his lip, “let me know if you need anything ok?” And he’s gone, as you turn back around, taking a beat, before you open the door.

“Surprise?” you say, and Suguru is holding a cake with lit candles, lights dimmed, a small smile on his lips.

“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” he frowns at the expression on your face, “what’s—” and you shake your head, walking over.

“We’ll talk about that later,” you stand in front of him and your cake, “All I want to focus on is you and my cake,” and your lips curl, “and I believe I’m owed a song?”

“Happy birthday to you,” he sings softly, jawline illuminated by the low light of the candle, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, my dear sweetheart,” and you bite back a grin, “Happy birthday to you,” he holds the cake up a little higher, “make a wish,”

You hum, “I don’t know what to wish for,” you blow out your candles, before taking the cake from his hands and placing it down before slipping into his arms, “I have everything I want right here.”

~~~

Suguru had almost gotten it right. Almost.

“Yuta almost saw you earlier,” you admit, “he didn’t, I realized before and made an excuse but,” you sigh, as the two of you sit on the couch, your fork toying with your slice of cake, “it was close,”

Close. Close to revealing your relationship. Lose to jeopardizing your future. Close to ruining your friendship. It was far too close — or was he far too close to you?

His brow knit together, “I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have let myself in and I should have texted earlier—“

“It’s not your fault, Suguru, it’s fine,” you offer a smile, “I don’t even mind if Yuta knows — he’s a good friend,”

“But still—“ you drag a finger through frosting and place a dollop on his nose, “sweetheart—“

“Let’s not focus on that right now. This is the first time I got to see you in weeks,” you lean over and lick the frosting from the tip of his nose, a warmth spreading across his face from your touch, “I want to enjoy the rest of my birthday with my boyfriend, okay?”

But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away — not now.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips — it had been far too long since he had felt the soft press of your lips against his own. He could taste the frosting, the sickly sweetness didn’t begin to compare to your taste, and how much he had ached for it.

But it also didn’t stop him from dragging a finger dipped in frosting across your cheek.

“Suguru!” You gape at him, looking utterly too adorable with your pout and the frosting across your cheek, “on my birthday too?”

“Well, you’re so sweet, I wanted to see if it was possible for you to be even sweeter,” and he leans over licking the frosting from your cheek, “looks like it’s not possible—“ and you swallow his sentence with a kiss, as your plate and fork clatter as you set it down on your coffee table, climbing into his lap, your knees on either side, “our reservation — we’ll be late,” even so his hands drag down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I think I want dessert first,” you murmur, before finding his lips in a kiss again.

It’s hours later, and you’re fast asleep beside him, your face buried against the crook of his neck, as Suguru runs his fingers through your hair. But he can’t sleep. Not when he keeps thinking about what you said.

You didn’t deserve this. To spend days waiting for your boyfriend to be free, to spend your time wondering when he would be able to call you, to spend your time stressed out at the idea of getting caught. A relationship should be easier, it should be fun — but you haven’t had either since he had to move.

His fingers brushes against the curve of your cheek and then tracing the chain of the necklace, thumbing the dragon charm. He loves you — he loves you, but was it enough when you deserved so much more? How many more things would he miss because of work? How many more things would you hide because you didn’t want him to feel guilty? How many more times would he let you?

He had felt you slipping from his fingers these last few weeks — he presses a kiss to your forehead — but he had never considered whether he should let you go.

Until now.

~~~

Can we call tonight? I miss you.

Suguru glances at his phone, students already filed in and sitting, the quiet chatter before class began. It had been like this for a week. He locked his phone, tucking it away in his pockets.

“If you all will sit and settle down, we’ll begin today’s lecture,” he says to the class, “we’re going to continue our discussion from last class on Scanlon — we’ll start with any questions left from our conversation,”

Several hands fly up, and he chooses one to speak, “I had a question,”

He blinks, spotting you amongst his students, “What are you—“

“Professor, you haven’t let me ask my question,” you pout, as you lean against the desk, arms crossed, “I need to understand the material to pass, don’t I?”

All replies get stuck in his throat — as words fail him, as they always did with you. He’s only able to nod. And you smile, lips curling wide.

“Scanlon posits the question “what do we owe to each other?’ But there is no one answer — we are meant to figure that on our own,” you lean back in your chair, “and I believe I’m owed at least a text back,”

The students’ quiet murmurings and piercing stares drawing heat up his neck, and you were the one who lit the match, flames licking at your heels.

“Sweetheart—“

“Do you get to call me that after how you’ve treated me?” you scoff, as you slide from your chair onto your feet, “no visit in weeks, barely any phone calls, and once we even got on the phone, you would fall asleep. Have you asked how I’ve been? How have I dealt with all of this? Do you even know how my semester is going?”

His mouth is a desert, and his words have all but deserted him — as he fumbles for any syllables he could grasp onto, but finds none. Because he has no excuses to be made.

You walk down the stairs of the lecture hall, as the slow steps you take ring in his ears, “do you know what I’m risking? My reputation, my career, my future — for what? For you? I know my answer to what I want in life. I know my answer is you — can you say the same?”

And the class is gone — and it’s only the two of you.

“I’d do anything for you, I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to. I—“ his voice breaks, and your hand finds his cheek, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Except let me go, apparently.”

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes flutter open, a breath caught in his throat, as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before reaching blindly for his phone. He glanced at the screen now, turning off the alarm, spotting a text from you at the top.

Morning Sugu — I miss you <3, can we call tonight?

And he stares at your message before locking his screen and placing his phone down and turning around.

He needed to talk to you.

~~~~

“You’ve checked your phone like for the millionth and one time,” your eyes find Yuta’s as the two of you continue to put up flyers for the student government hosted dinner later in the week, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” and he stares at you, “what?” And then you sigh, “my boyfriend — it just feels like he’s been avoiding me, and I don’t know why,”

“Have you asked him why?” He holds a flier and tapes it a bulletin board outside, and you shake your head, “maybe you should try,”

“I want to, I just never get a chance to — he’s been so busy with work and I haven’t—“ and you sigh — it had been over a week since you and Suguru had even spoken on the phone, much less even video called, “I feel like something’s wrong — something is bothering him,” your voice falters, as you swallow your emotions, a sigh on your lips, “I don’t know,”

Yuta takes a pause, stealing a glance at you, before he turns to look, “You’ll only know if you ask — and the longer you wait, the harder it will be to be honest,” he glances away, “trust me,”

You crumple the flier in your hand, squeezing, “I’m just scared of the answer,” you admit. It had been so difficult to get to this point — tears roll down your cheeks — to see Suguru slip away because of this would be too much.

“I know,” Yuta says softly, as he gently places his hand on your shoulder, “but you still need it regardless,”

And then you hear a voice call your name, and you wipe your tears hurriedly as Yuta pulls his hand away, your gaze snapping over to see Professor Yaga and—

Suguru?

~~~

“Look who’s here for a meeting,” Yaga says, clapping a hand to Suguru’s shoulder, “did you hear that Professor Geto had become department head of the Kyoto sister university?”

And Suguru knew you very well had — but you hadn’t heard he’d come here for a meeting. To be fair, he didn’t know until this morning — but to be even more fair, he had plenty of time to tell you. But he didn’t — because he was hoping he wouldn’t see you, not like this.

“I did,” you force a smile, “it’s good to see you, Professor Geto, how have you been?”

You’re a natural at acting as if nothing is the matter — but he’s become a master at seeing right through it. He spotted the way your fingers wiped away your tears, your red rimmed eyes, and the plastered on smile that was nearly pulling into a frown. He resisted the urge to purse his lips — he had wondered for a split second what had made you cry? Until he saw the flicker of a glare in your gaze, and he knew he was the reason.

And it was yet another reason he needed to end this.

And this — Suguru’s eyes flicker between you and your friend — was the friend he assumed was Yuta, his brow knit in confusion, “I’ve been well — it’s good to see you, I hope the semester has gone well for you?”

You shrug, your expression unreadable, “Well enough, you know how the semester goes — it’s very busy around this time. Easy for things to slip through the cracks,” and he forces his gaze to not waver.

“Very true, it’s important to keep on top of things,”

“Especially the important things,” you give both him and Professor Yaga a stiff smile, “It’s good to see you both, but we have more flyers to hang up for the event coming up later this week,” you take Yuta’s hand, “if you’ll excuse us,” and the two of you disappear off around the corner.

“It was good to see her, wasn’t it?” Professor Yaga says, a smile on his lips, “she’s come a long way after your class — she was already an excellent student, but now, I see even brighter things on her horizon,” as he continues to walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, and Suguru spares a single glance over his shoulder, before pulling out his phone and texting you:

Can we talk later? I’ll let you know where.

“It was.”

~~~~

“Old habits die hard?” you sat on Suguru’s old desk as he walked in, your arms crossed in front of you. And Suguru tilts his head, closing the door behind him.

“Did something happen in this room?” and you roll your eyes, as he steps forward, “ah, yes, you’re referring to your grades right?”

“Yes, my grades — I’m still upset about that 99,” but the playfulness all but dies on your lips as he draws close, your eyes unable to meet his gaze, as if you would see some truth you weren’t ready to uncover, “Suguru, what’s going on?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You’ve been distant since my birthday, avoiding calling me, you barely text me — and today, you didn’t even tell me you were in Tokyo,” your voice breaks — even if you had thought what you wanted to say to him a million times today — it didn’t make it any easier, “are you upset with me?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he’s shaking his head, as he cups your cheeks, “you didn’t do anything except be completely wonderful,” he swallows, voice catching, as he seems to struggle with his words, “and that’s why I have to let you go,”

The sentence repeats in your mind over and over — and you still can’t make sense of it. No, no, it didn’t make sense. Why would he want to break up?

One word was all you could manage to respond with — “What?”

“Sweetheart, you deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who will be there with you when you need them, who will call you, prioritize you, give you all of their energy — and with this distance—”

“We can make it work—” and you know you’re crying now, tears rolling down his knuckles, filling the chasm he’s making between the two of you.

He’s running his fingers through his hair, “You’re making this work — I’m trying too but I haven’t been able to visit you, I haven’t been able to see you or talk to you properly in weeks—”

“It’s not forever, it won’t be like this. I’m almost done with my degree, I can move down to Kyoto—”

“And I don’t want you to limit your options because of me and my career,” he cuts you off gently, as his thumb rubs back and forth, wiping your tears away, “you have such a wonderful future ahead of you — whether you decide to pursue a Ph.D. or a lecturer position or whatever else — I want you to make that decision without my presence being a factor—”

“But—” and he’s pressing his lips to you softly, it’s gentle and sweet — his hands holding you as if you would break apart in his fingers before him, as his lips finally part yours “Suguru, I know what I’m doing—”

“I know, but so do I,” he murmurs, as he begins to step away from you, his warmth leaving your body, “if it’s easier for you to hate me, hate me — if it’s easier to be indifferent, be indifferent — I just can’t hold you back, sweetheart. I can’t do that to you — whether it’s professionally or personally,”

“Suguru, you’re not letting me have a say in this,” and he takes your hands, lacing your fingers together, “I want this, I know it’s been hard, but don’t you want this too?”

“I do — I love you, but that’s why I can’t do that to you. I want you to be happy—”

“Even if it comes at the cost of your own happiness?” you scoff, “Are you subscribing to utilitarianism? Are you okay being a happiness pump?” Your fingers try to find purchase on his cheek, but he pulls away, hands falling away from yours.

“I am, if it means you’re happy, then I am,” Suguru whispers, glancing away from him, “it’s not worth the risk,”

Your words are quiet, as you swallow your tears, and you force your voice to be steady, “You’re making this about me — when it’s about you too,” you brush past him, “I didn’t expect you to be a coward, Suguru, but I suppose, I got the answer I deserve.”

And the door shuts behind you, tears burning as you walk off — and you know that he wouldn’t follow.

But you still hoped he would.

~~~

Suguru stands by the window, watching students file in and out of the building.

It was the right thing to do. That’s what he kept telling himself — over and over and over. But if it was so right, then why did he feel wrong? Wrong for breaking your heart. Wrong for letting you wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He spent his time debating amongst others what right and wrong really was, but he always knew there would never be an answer.

And then he spots you leaving the building, before you bump into someone who stops you, your head down, but it doesn’t work, as the person pulls you into a hug. And he knew who it was — it was that student from earlier — Yuta. He had seen the way he looked at you — the same softness that Suguru had recognized because he saw it in himself.

He knew you deserved better, just because you were his answer —- he watched you sink into Yuta’s arms — doesn’t mean he was yours.

✧ a/n: ahhh the anticipated fourth part!! there’s gonna be one more part of the main series and then it’s onto extra credit fics :). Don’t worry it will be a happy ending!! I promise!

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot t, @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries ,

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #suguru geto fanfiction #jjk smut #Jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x reader #geto suguru smut

3K notes · View notes

suhkusa · 2 months

Text

HELL OF A WOMAN.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

CW. slight enemies-to-lovers, some angst but not heavy, fluff, you're both snarky (romantic), ~4k words, slice of life, reader has a healing quirk

A/N. i'd say slowburn but it's only slowburn because i barely ever write fics this long lol

Throughout your time in the nurse’s office as Recovery Girl’s student apprentice, you’ve met many different students. They all varied– whether it be their quirk, their grade, or even the injury they had come in for.

Students from the general education, support and management departments rarely ever made their rounds to the nurse’s office, only coming in for a simple cut or bruise.

That left you with those in the hero department.

You got along well with nearly all of them, even going as far as becoming friends with a few. And while that was true, of course there were gonna be some who you couldn’t get along with. But, there was specifically one student you could not stand. And he’d probably say the same thing for you as well.

It was none other than Bakugou Katsuki.

———

The first time you really interacted with Bakugou Katsuki was within the first month of your apprenticeship. It was in your 3rd year, and you had already been managing well.

Your day had started off fantastic. Recovery Girl had left you to run the office by yourself, thoroughly trusting your working and communication skills, so that she could run errands out of town.

The office hadn’t been too busy, allowing you time to finish a bit of your homework at your own little desk next to hers. A few people came and left, just needing a simple healing of their arm or leg.

You had been lost in thought when he slammed the door open, practically huffing as he walked in. Putting your pencil down, your wide eyes looked up and met his own. It felt as though he was burning a hole straight through your skull with the way he stared you down.

You didn’t even have to ask to know who he was. In your first and second year, his face was plastered nearly everywhere throughout the media. Bakugou Katsuki. But you’d never talked to him. Well, until now.

Assuming he’d be like every other person who walked through that door, stating their business then quietly leaving, you broke the deafening silence.

“Uh, yes?” you let out, cringing internally at the way the words came out.

Bakugou looked around the room before back at you, “Where the hell is the old woman at?” he spat.

You were seemingly surprised at his not-so-subtle entrance and dirty language.

“If you meant Recovery Lady by “old woman”, then she’s out of town for some errands. I can help you if–”

“And who the hell are you?” he snapped before you finished, impatience laced in the way he spoke and stood before you.

You could practically feel how your jaw dropped and eyebrows furrowed at his blunt question. If he didn’t hold back, then why should you?

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m Recovery Lady’s helper. Now,” you put on the most calm and collected voice you could manage, “what the hell do you want?”

The day was going well, before now at least, and you were not going to let some egoistic, cocky guy ruin it for you. Tug of war is a game with two different sides, and you weren’t gonna let him win victoriously.

Bakugou’s face scrunched up at the words you spat right back at him, opening his mouth to retort something– probably an insult– before letting it fall shut with a grunt.

“What the– Just put a bandage on this shit,” he held his arm out for you to see a scrape wound running up the length of it.

You raised an eyebrow as you glanced between the injury and his eyes that looked down at you expectantly. And waited.

“The fuck you staring at?” he spoke– yelled, really– before stepping a bit closer.

A smirk tugged up at the corner of your lips before you sat back in your spinning chair, crossing a leg over the other. Like you were the one expecting something.

“You–”

“Please.” you cut him off, lifting a hand to inspect your nails nonchalantly. Hm, maybe you should get them done.

“Like hell I’m saying that, do something about–”

“Please.” you repeated, emphasizing the word in a louder tone. You looked at him from behind your lifted hand, the smirk that once teased at your mouth now sitting there fully– mocking him.

“Fine! Fuckin’ fine!” Bakugou snarled, his pearly whites peeking from under his lips. “Will you please do something about this?”

Satisfied, you responded, “‘Kay,”

———

Perhaps you should’ve bit your tongue before you spoke to the oh so great Bakugou Katsuki. In your defense, you didn’t know he’d hold it against you. You were joking, obviously. It was obvious. Right?

And so, everytime he walked into the nurse’s office, he’d send you the same nasty glare, practically seething through his teeth as he made eye contact with you. You knew exactly why he did the gesture every time he came in, but how long did this guy hold grudges for? It wasn’t like you publicly humiliated him or anything.

“Why are you always looking at me like that?” you asked him one day as the Recovery Lady escorted him to one of the vacant cots, leg stretched out as you leaned back in your chair.

“Hah? Like what?” he grunted in your direction as he took a seat, an eyebrow raised in curiosity? Irritation? Probably both.

“Mm,” you looked up to the roof as if you were thinking, “Like you like me or something, I mean it’s really flattering but you don’t have to sta—”

“As if. I’d rather watch an elephant take a dump than stare at your face any day,” Bakugou inputted as he lifted his arm to allow Recovery Lady to heal the injury along his bicep.

“Oh really? I didn’t know you were into that kind of stuff, Bakugou,”

You fidgeted with the pen in your hand as you watched his face scrunch up.

“You know what—”

Just as he was about to rise and stand from his spot, Recovery Lady quickly and gently pushed him to sit back down.

“Y/N,” she emphasized your name with a familiar tone, “I think we’re running low on bandages, could you go get some from the storage room?”

Even though her words were anything but hostile, you and Bakugou could tell she was scolding you. You let out a sigh.

“Yeah, I can,”

Getting up from your seat, you set your things down before making your way to the door. Not before stealing one more glance at Bakugou. He was also staring back at you, but this time there was a bit of cockiness in his eyes. Getting the last word never hurt anybody.

You slid the door open, eyes still locked with his, “You know, you’d probably look cute as well if you didn’t look like you were constipated 24/7,”

“The fuck—”

Quickly sticking your tongue out at him, you shut the door before he was able to finish his sentence.

———

The nurse’s office had been particularly quiet today. The slow day in the office gave you more free time to yourself, which allowed you to catch up on a couple past assignments. Only two or three people came in before the lunch bell rang. After packing your bag, you waved off Recovery Lady as you excused yourself to the cafeteria.

And when you returned, it was still quiet. You quickly noticed that it was also void of Recovery Lady, the short woman nowhere to be seen. As you slid the door shut behind you, you heard a hushed groan come from one of the beds. Your head snapped to the source of the noise, quietly stepping closer to the person.

Almost naturally, you recognized the disheveled blonde hair. Bakugou.

But this was different. New. He was quiet for once, and the eyes that almost always were glaring at you were closed shut. Your body relaxed at the unusual sight of him. And maybe if you were crazy, you would’ve thought he was cute.

As you got closer, you noticed the slight crease in his eyebrows, as well as the bandage that was wrapped around his torso.

Perhaps you got too caught up in the moment, though. Too caught up in the way his chest slowly rose with each breath, the way his skin seemed to glow under the sun’s filtered light. So caught up that you didn’t realize those familiar crimson eyes were staring back up at you.

“You a pervert now?” his voice cut through silence, causing you to tense and step back. “The hell are you looking at?”

For a moment, it felt like your voice was caught in your throat. You caught yourself trying to find something to look at. Something other than him.

“Looks like you’re in quite a predicament,” you commented with a breathy laugh, not really knowing what else to say. Stupid joke.

“No, really?” sarcasm was laced in his tone, but you could hear the struggle as he grunted quietly afterwards.

Maybe you’d spare him for the day.

“Recovery Lady hasn’t gotten to you, yet?” you asked as you slowly made your way to your desk, setting down your bag.

“Nah,” he let out a huff as he sat up, “Shit— she wasn’t here when I got here,”

Letting out a hum in response, “Do… Do you want me to help you then?” you asked, even though you already knew the likely answer.

“What the hell do you think—”

“You know, on second thought I have some homework—”

He let out an exasperated sigh before surrendering once again, “Yes. Yes, please. Help me,”

Biting back a small smile, you turned back around to make your way back to the injured man. You pulled up a chair next to the bed, sliding in closer. After gesturing him to lay back down, your hands carefully peeled back the bandages that covered the wound. You’d never get used to the sight of blood.

You could feel the way his body tensed every time your hand neared his injury, though you tried your best not to touch it at all.

“Sorry if it hurts a little,” you said, lifting your hands over the gash, “Just do your best to relax,”

“Whatever,” Bakugou responded as he turned his head away from you.

It happened in a flash. From his peripheral view, he saw your hands glow, and the next thing he knew: he was fine again. Not a scar, scratch, or wound in sight. Like it wasn’t even there.

Though you enjoyed the perplexed look in his eyes, you could feel yourself becoming rather light-headed. You took a deep breath before standing up and going back to your desk to get your water bottle.

As you took a sip of your water, you watched as he sat up in the cot, lifting up his shirt to examine the skin.

“Never seen a quirk before?” you laughed at his amusement.

His face quickly snapped back to his normal grouchy look, “No, just didn’t know you had a quirk at all, you usually just bandage my injuries up. Plus healing quirks are rare,”

“Mm, I get that a lot,” you mused, twisting the cap back onto your water, “It’s just a normal healing quirk though. I’ve been working with Recovery Lady to train it’s capabilities,”

Bakugou grunted in response. Silence filled the room for a moment before he decided to speak up.

“Gonna head back to class,” he stated curtly, swiftly putting his blazer back on before stepping towards the door, “Thanks, I guess,”

With one last glance back at you, he was gone. Leaving you and the rapid thumping of your heart alone in the room once again.

———

“Is anyone sitting here?” a gruff voice came from above.

With the rest of the noise in the cafeteria, you nearly didn’t hear him. Your eyes gazed up from your food toward him, eyebrow shooting up in question.

“Uhm,” you swallowed the food in your mouth before responding, “what does it look like to you?”

You gestured to the empty seats around you before going back to poking at your lunch.

“Tch, just asking,” Bakugou murmured under his breath as he tugged a chair out from under the table and took a seat.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but sneak a couple of glances his way. Just why was he sitting with you? Was this his own silent way of tormenting you?

“So,” you started before clearing your throat, “what do you want?”

You could see him freeze mid-bite, eyes shooting up to you.

“To eat? What else?” he grunted nonchalantly.

Well no shit.

“Oh really? Didn’t know that,” you rolled your eyes, “why not eat with your friends?”

“Don’t wanna,”

Your lips pulled into a thin line before you gave up. You dismissed him as you continued to finish your lunch. After this you’d probably have enough time to take a nap in the nurse’s office. In an attempt to finish your food without starting some random argument with the blonde next to you, you kept the interactions to a minimum.

After you finished, you debated your options. Did you say goodbye or just… leave? Just leaving would be rude, wouldn’t it? Well who cares, you sure don’t–

“Hold on,” he called out, catching your attention.

You watched as he quickly finished the rest of his lunch, gathering his stuff before standing up.

“What–”

“Alright, let’s go,” he said as he walked past you towards the garbage can.

“Uh,” you followed shortly after him with your trash, “go where?”

Stacking his tray with the others, he sent you a glare with a rough, “Where else?”

When you didn’t respond with a word but instead with a confused look, Bakugou sighed and continued.

“The nurse’s office,”

Your mouth dropped open in a silent “Ohh”. You tugged your bag over your shoulder as you walked up next to him.

The walk through the halls was rather silent other than the couple of students that walked past the two of you. But not a word was said between the two of you. At least until he opened his mouth.

“So, what are your plans after graduating?” he asked, hands in his pocket as he continued to walk by you.

You let your eyes scan the exterior through the wide UA windows when you responded, “Hm, I think I’ll find a job in a hospital? I think I wanna work in some field with heroes, but I’m not quite sure yet… And you?”

“Obviously I’m gonna a hero,” Bakugou scoffed with a smirk, “Gonna be the best one, at that,”

“I see,” you let a light laugh slip out at his confidence.

“What’s funny, huh?” he asked, voice suddenly scarily serious.

Your eyes widened, “Nothing, nothing– It’s just we barely have normal conversations like this. I guess,” you quickly added.

Bakugou hummed in response, coming to a quick stop as the two of you reached the nurse’s office’s door.

“Well,” you step closer to the door, “Thank you for walking me here, Bakugou,” you smiled.

“Katsuki,”

“Hm?”

He rolled his eyes, “Just call me Katsuki,” he turned the other way quickly before waving you off, “Later, nerd,”

A laugh escaped you as you watched him walk away, waiting a couple of more moments before walking into the office.

Maybe if you stared for a little longer you would’ve seen the way his ears reddened at your smile.

———

“Oh! Good afternoon Bakugou and Kirishima!” the voice of the elderly woman snapped you awake, causing you to jump in your seat.

You could hear a snicker come from a certain person as you turned to see the two who entered the room.

Your eyes were met with a seemingly beaten up Kirishima and Bakugou, the two having scruffs, scratches and bruises on their skin.

“What were you guys doing this time?” Recovery Lady escorted the two to their own beds, tending to Bakugou’s injuries and gesturing to you to help Kirishima.

“Ah, just training, same as always,” the red head responded with a smile, “Oh, hey Y/N,”

You could feel the ends of your mouth tug upwards at his greeting, “Hey,”

“How’s everything been?”

As you continued your chatter with Kirishima and helped him with his injuries, you didn’t seem to see or feel the daggers of stares that Bakugou sent in your direction.

On the other hand, Bakugou didn’t even know why he felt like this.

What was he pissed about? It’s not like the two of you are friends. Did you consider him a friend? Yet why did it feel so utterly annoying to watch you interact with some other guy?

That was beyond Bakugou.

Maybe he already knew the answer. And maybe he didn’t want to come to terms with what that answer held.

Either way he couldn’t take another second of this.

“Bakugou? Where are you going—”

The sound of Recovery Lady’s frantic voice caught the attention of you and Kirishima. Your eyebrow raised in confusion as the blonde made his way to the door with the little lady following him.

“You’re not fully healed yet,” the old woman claimed.

“It’s fine,”

“Let him,” Kirishima said after Bakugou slammed the door shut. “He’s been a little off lately,”

You wrapped a bandage around Kirishima’s elbow, “Off? How?”

Kirishima’s eyes looked up in thought, “He’s been kinda closed off lately; barely comes to our hangouts,”

“Ooh,” you sighed as you continued helping the guy in front of you.

There was a seedling of worry planted in your stomach, and you barely had any clue why. It’s not like you guys were close. He was just some guy who came to the nurse’s office like every other student. Maybe those late nights staying up were finally catching up to you.

After cleaning up and sending Kirishima off, you were finally left alone. Recovery Lady had left a while ago to fetch some supplies from the storage room. And so that left you and your thoughts alone in the office.

———

A week had gone by.

A week had gone by, and there had been radio silence from Bakugou.

Either training had slowed down or he was completely avoiding you. And either way, it still made you a bit sad. Only a bit.

Days in the nurse’s office were slow and lonely. You never made a real connection with anyone. People came and people left. They come to get healed and leave. No side talk, albeit a few exceptions. Bakugou being one of those.

There were times where you thought you saw him entering the nurse’s office when you were leaving, but the glimpses were so small that you chalked it up to your imagination.

It felt like he was consuming your every thought, so you had no choice but to accept the fact that maybe you had a crush on Bakugou. Maybe.

But so what? That was normal, everyone had a crush on him at one point. Too bad you fell victim along with the rest of them, though.

Admitting to yourself that you liked Bakugou was hard, but having to actually deal with the feelings you had was harder. One, because you’ve never really had a serious crush. And two, he was nowhere to be seen. Having a crush on him made your heart beat so quick that you’d use your quirk on yourself to make sure you weren’t having heart problems.

Soon, one week turned into two.

And it seemed like the office was only getting busier as the third years prepared for their finals. Everyone was in and out as they practiced their hand to hand combat more vigorously and more often.

The first couple of days, it was easy. But towards the end of the week, you began to fatigue. Having to balance your own finals and running around the office having to use your quirk over and over was doing a number on you.

The injuries were becoming worse, the amount was increasing. At times, you were dizzy with how many times you’d have to keep turning around from bed to bed to help someone new.

Then there was a calm. You barely noticed a full week of finals had swung by, leaving the clinic empty and quiet.

“Is it alright if I nap during the passing period?” you turn in your chair to Recovery Lady, who is stocking up the medicine cabinets.

“Of course, you should be fine, if anything I can handle anyone who comes in,” she tells you.

You sigh in relief as you walk to the nearest bed on weak legs, basically melting into it as soon as your body hits the cushion. You knock out on the spot, letting your well-deserved slumber overcome you.

———

Your slumber is interrupted by a slight jolt to the bed frame you’re lying on. You groan as you flip onto your other side. The light escapes through your lashes, creating a blurred light illusion with a silhouette. Your eyes shot open, a silhouette?

You become conscious of yourself as soon as you realize the one before you is none other than Bakugou Katsuki. There’s a stupid grin on his face which makes you want to slap it right off of him. You sneakily nudge at the drool on the side of your mouth and adjust your clothing and appearance.

“Finally awake, sleeping beauty?” he says from the seat beside you, and it feels like forever since you’ve last heard that voice of his.

“Yeah, because of someone,” you grumbled, eyebrows scrunching up. He laughs, laughs, as his eyes focus on you.

“It’s getting late,” is all he says.

You have half a mind to respond, until you remember that he’s been avoiding you. Your eyebrows tighten together impossibly closer, as you flip to face away from him.

“You’re a dick,” you say matter-of-factly. “You’ve been avoiding me, I’m not stupid,”

Your eyes are jittery as they look everywhere. Trying to focus on something in the room to distract yourself from all of the possibilities of what might come out of his mouth.

“Why do you care?”

His words cause you to sit up, facing him once more. “What do you even mean, why? I used to see you everyday, then suddenly you just walked out and I never saw you again,”

Bakugou’s eyes slightly roll at your words, and it kind of hurts.

“I just thought maybe we were…” your words trail off causing Bakugou to stare at you more intently.

“Were what?”

“I don’t know, friends, or some shit,” you bury your head in your hands out of embarrassment.

“Did I say we weren’t?”

“Well, you never said we were,”

“Didn’t think I had to,” he says, “Thought you were smarter than that, doc,”

You smile at the nickname. “You can leave now, I’m awake, I just have to close up the clinic. Why were you here in the first place?”

“Had to make sure you weren’t dead or something,”

Laughing, you get up to fix the bed sheets. The words that fly out of your mouth come out on their own.

“What, do you like me or something?”

“Probably,”

His careless response didn’t register in your mind at first, but when it did, you could feel the heat rush from the back of your neck up to the tips of your ears.

“W-What? You can’t just say that… weirdo,” your eyes flick up at him then back down to the sheets, fluffing up the already neat pillows.

Silence filters through the room, the only noise filling your ears being the noise of cotton and linen being moved around. Along with the sound of your heartbeat thumping in your ears. It felt so loud, that you swear he could probably hear it as well. You didn’t know what to do, was this real life?

Did those words really just come out of his mouth?

His head tilted and you could feel his gaze on you. It was nerve-wracking, and you were just hoping and praying he’d say something that’d clear your mind. A small, “just kidding,” would be nice right about now. The hurt you’d feel from that would be better than the anxiety you felt at this instant.

“Say what?” he mocks, and it causes your eye to twitch.

You decide you’re not playing these games with Katsuki Bakugou today, “Oh nothing, must’ve been the wind,” you flutter your eyes before turning the other direction to fix up another bed that looks like it’d been used.

A hand on your wrist puts a stop to your motions, and it immediately makes your head turn back to meet his eyes.

“B- Katsuki–”

You’d usually be able to come up with something snarky, but right now all your words were caught in your throat. You were actually scared to say the wrong thing for once.

“You were joking right?” you ask him, nervous for what his answer might be.

Bakugou is quick to retort, “Depends, were you?”

You gulp down your anxiety before giving him a response, “N-No,”

“Then? Use that smart little brain of yours, doc,”

“Say it,” you demand, “I’m not playing this little game with you, so say it,”

His ruby eyes roll before connecting gazes with yours once again, “I like you, or something,” he mimics your words from earlier.

You can feel yourself fluster. The dizziness in your head almost made you convince yourself that you were dreaming. If this was a dream, you wanted All Might himself to pop out and punch you across the face.

“Why don’t you say something now, hm?” his grip around your wrist loosens to a more gentle grasp.

His face closens to yours, the distance between the two of you is only breaths-length.

“Since you’re so smart, you tell me,” you sass, “Take a guess, smartass,”

A smile quirks at the corner of his mouth, “You’re such a dick,” he whispers under his breath before closing the distance completely, his lips locking with yours.

Your eyes widen at the pure shock, but you ultimately melt into the kiss. It’s sweet and you can feel the two of you smiling into it.

When the two of you part, you can feel slight embarrassment wash over you. “You’re an ass, you didn’t even let me confess, my high school sweetheart experience is ruined forever,

Bakugou lets out a breathy laugh at your words, “Thought you wanted me to take a guess,”

“And if you were wrong?”

“Hah, as if,”

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha angst #mha angst #bnha fluff #raeworks #bnha bakugo x reader #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #mha fanfics

963 notes · View notes

galedekarios · 9 months

Text

one thing that really tugs at my heartstrings while going through the epilogue files a bit more is how desperately gale wants to stay in touch with the protag (unromanced) and the friends he's made on their journey together.

not only has he talked to his students about the protag and their adventures at length, he invites the protag to be a guest lecturer:

Player: I found the love of my life. I'd say I'm pretty happy. Gale: And I couldn't be happier for you. A fitting reward for the sacrifices you made in getting here. Gale: I've told my students plenty of tales about our escapades. You're something of a hero to them, you know. Gale: I'd be delighted to introduce you to my current cohort - as a guest lecturer, perhaps? I'm sure they'd have plenty of questions for you.

he is also happy to invite the protag to his tower for the duration of their stay:

Player: It would be my pleasure. Gale: Excellent. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist the allure of sharing your expertise. Gale: Of course you'll be most welcome to stay with me in my tower. Tara the Tressym: Ahem. Gale: My apologies, Tara. That would be our tower.

and even if they should refuse his invitation to be a guest lecturer, he hopes they'll at least consider coming to visit him in his tower in waterdeep:

Player: I'll respectfully decline. Sounds too much like hard work to me. Gale: I totally understand. Perhaps our exploits might be a little on the mature side for my students, come to think of it... Gale: Still, at the very least you must come visit me. I've a pantry full of Waterdhavian delicacies and a delightful bottle of Elverquisst with your name on them... devnote: Attempting to persuade the player to visit him, really wants them to come [if the player is illithid] Player: My diet is more... cerebral these days, Gale. You'll need to rethink your menu. Gale: Say no more. There's a wizard in Blackstaff's anatomical department who owes me a favour, no questions asked. All diets will be catered for. I can hardly wait. [if the player rejected to become an illithid] Player: Good food and good company? Now that I can manage. Gale: Excellent, excellent, excellent. I can hardly wait. devnote: Relieved you've accepted his offer

[end of convo for both] Gale: It will give us plenty of time to catch up on your adventures. Gale: I'm very curious to know what you've been up to these past months, but I suspect the telling of that tale would keep you tied to me all evening. Gale: So, in the spirit of selflessness I encourage you to mix and mingle for now. We've time enough to come. devnote: Looking forward to staying in touch with the player

he's crushed if the protag refuses:

Player: Sorry, Gale. I don't think that's going to happen. Gale: Oh. Well, no matter. Dinner alone can be every bit as enjoyable as with company. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it Tara the Tressym: Alone? And what am I - a stuffed toy? Gale: Please - enjoy the rest of your evening. devnote: Deflated, trying not to show it

this all ties into another little moment after this first conversation.

if the protag has talked with gale already and has hugged him, there's a second, shorter conversation, in which gale gets choked up as he reminisces over how the party is together once more:

Gale: I can't believe this is real. I never thought we'd gather like this again. devnote: Taking in the moment, appreciating it Gale: It's quite... ahem, yes really quite lovely. devnote: Getting a bit choked up, trying to hide it/breeze past it

tl;dr: gale loves his friends so very, very much and hopes they'll allow him to be able to stay in contact with them.

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #ch: gale dekarios #vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #meta: mybg3

2K notes · View notes

lushrue · 3 months

Text

141 + könig & graves as college professors (fem!reader) nsfw, mdni

cw: p-in-v sex, creampie, semi-public sex, power imbalance/unethical relationship, age gap (everyone's legal), oral (f!receiving), bondage, oral (m!receiving)

price teaches military strategy, a more theoretical and scientific look at war and battle tactics. he’s done the field work, he knows what it takes to physically carry out a mission. but he values the skill behind the planning a bit more than the execution. would definitely give real-world examples with missions he’s carried out with as much detail as he can provide. has classes outside some days. he tells his students it’s because the weather’s nice, but he really just wants to smoke.

he’s one to stare when you show up to class in a short skirt or low-cut top. he’s not shy about it, but he’s tactful, not letting his gaze settle for too long. won’t fuck you in his office, too nervous his colleagues would hear. so he comes to your dorm room sometimes when your roommate’s out, or he’ll take you to a hotel and treat you nice with room service and the whole deal. absolutely obsessed with the way his cum drips down your thighs, takes some pictures to jerk off to later.

ghost maybe teaches something like warfare tactics. something that would only be taught at a military college, something hands-on. he takes his job educating the next generation of soldiers seriously. insists that his course have both a lecture and lab section. he’s getting his students up at the ass-crack of dawn to run drills, even if they’re not currently serving. they wanted to know how to win a war, so he’ll show them.

kinda hard to convince, tbh. he’s fine pushing the bounds when it comes to rules of engagement, but this? still, when you prove yourself, when you beat out everyone else on the obstacle course, he jumps at the chance for some extra tutoring sessions with you. the fact that you look good in a sports bra and leggings is just a bonus. he’ll definitely fuck you in the gym bathroom after a training session. he’ll drag you into a stall and lock the door, hold you up if your legs are too tired from the workout he put you through.

soap teaches something not military-related, i think. maybe chemistry or physics with his demolitions background? very into demonstrations in his classes, likes to make shit blow up or fly across the room for the wow factor. he’s set the fire alarms off in the science lab more than once. definitely has a high score on rate my professor, one of the most sought after in the whole physical science department.

fucks you in the science lab. you’d come to him during office hours, cause the subjects he teaches have a really low pass rate. it’d start with actual homework help before devolving into heavy petting and kisses as a reward for correct answers. he’ll test your concentration, making you recite newton’s laws or the ratio of reactant to product. when you fumble, he’ll just chuckle and mumble something about how your head is too fuzzy for science. not too fuzzy for him to bully his cock into you, though.

gaz teaches something intro level. we’re talking “intro to military studies” or “intro to war and peace”. he’s really lenient on due dates, doesn’t have the really strict attitude that a lot of intro level professors have. he’s chill, one of those professors that does everything he can to work with you. won’t suffer a slacker, though. if you don’t do the work, don’t expect him to round your grade up at the end of the semester.

he won’t fuck you while you’re still enrolled in one of his classes. he knows himself, the temptation would be too strong if he had to see you for 55 minutes three times a week and couldn’t touch you. so he waits until the semester is over. but best believe he’s dragging you into some secluded corner of the building the minute you hand in your final. tells you about every single time he’s wanted to touch you, every time you’ve almost made him break his own rule. he makes it up to you, though, eating you out in the hallway and making you come on his tongue twice.

könig teaches german. falling a bit into the stereotype here, but i feel like this man has a really strong love of country. he’d definitely teach the culture alongside the language. he probably has an oktoberfest celebration for his students, lets the older ones drink beer if they want. he tells stories all the time about growing up in austria and will get sidetracked for a whole class just talking about life.

when he’s trying to seduce you, he’s a gentle giant. always cooing praises at you about how pretty you are, how well you’re taking to the language, that you’re a natural. but the moment you give in, he lets himself indulge. everything he’s ever wanted to act out, he does with you. if he’s stroked his thick cock to someone else doing it on his computer screen, he wants to try. it’s how you find yourself tied up in his bed, silk rope wrapped around your body as he fucks your throat. always dirty talks to you in german, giving you praise when you figure out what he’s saying.

graves teaches something niche, a class on terrorism in America or something like that. he gets really into it too. he’s known for being really animated in his lectures, gets really loud sometimes. other professors hate having a class in the lecture hall next to his. appreciates the students who stay after class to talk to him more in depth about his lectures. he knows the material can be dull sometimes, but he always has a few that are really passionate about what he teaches.

you’re one of those few. he’s embarrassed to admit that he falls for you, the way your eyes sparkle when he starts talking about some fringe terror group he helped to squash when he was serving. you always give him your rapt attention and he eats it up. takes you on dates to nice restaurants a few towns over so you won’t run into anyone either of you know. likes to fuck you over his desk after office hours are over. once, he shoved his boxers in your mouth and fucked you in the middle of the afternoon, when anyone could walk in. that time was your favorite.

449 notes · View notes

peachsukii · 4 months

Text

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞. it's your final year of UA High, an achievement that should be celebrated and joyous, but you couldn't believe just how much has changed in such a short amount of time. one thing you never thought you'd have to deal with is the potential of losing your best friend and being powerless to stop it.

content // spoilers for ch.362 through 424 of the manga (this is how i'm coping), aged up to 18/19 + end of senior year @ UA, teeny bit of angst mixed with emotional comfort & fluff, reader is in the support department (w/ an unnamed quirk), reader & bakugo are childhood friends, talks of ptsd/trauma/regret and nightmares about death, mentions of medical issues & therapy, emotionally vulnerable and sickly sweet confessions, extremely soft bakugo (maybe ooc? but trauma changes people's outlooks soooo), idiots in love, best friends to lovers. wc // 5.7k + crossposted to ao3 『 k.bakugo masterlist 』

tagging in the beginning to prevent spoilers if you wanted to avoid them; @slayfics @maddietries @starieq @liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague @queenpiranhadon

War…is over.

For now.

The media wouldn’t stop playing the coverage on repeat, leaving you unable to escape the scene that will haunt you for the rest of your life and forcing you to realize how vulnerable you are as a human being.

((spoilers below the cut))

You knew the second that Bakugo popped out of the shell of UA’s fortress through a grainy livestream that something was wrong. The way he staggered out, covered in blood with a mangled arm…your heart sank. You had no clue what happened moments prior in that bubble, only the heroes inside knew the truth at the time. Watching Midoriya’s awestruck tears flow as they worked together to save All Might from All for One’s grasp didn’t fill you with hope like others around you - it filled you with fear, a deadly reminder of how dangerous hero society is and the sacrifices it entails. How your duty as a support technician, and as a best friend, wasn’t even close to enough to help him in such dire straits.

Your calls and texts to him went unanswered...as expected. He probably doesn't even have his phone on him. Rumors spread over the course of the week following Shigaraki and All for One’s demise about what happened on the field when the cameras weren’t rolling.

Did you hear about that Bakugo kid? How’d he even get up after all that? You mean from being clinically dead? Yeah, I heard Edgeshot saved his life on the fly. His heart exploded! No, he was punched and it ruptured. But he saved All Might’s life! That was so cool to see. Deku helped, too. He wouldn’t have made it in time without him. A lot of the other students went through a lot of shit…and they expect them to go back to school?

UA was 'kind' enough to give all students a two week break from classes with dorms and buildings open for access as needed. Two weeks to recover from everything that's happened...it was a joke.

You lost count of how many nights you woke up sobbing from nightmares about Bakugo’s death within the past week, ranging from surgery complications to being left to die on the battlefield alone, unable to reach him in time. Your therapist reiterated in your session that this is all a normal response, even when the events didn't directly happen to you and resembled a form of survivor's guilt. It only worsened your negative outlook on society as a whole, knowing full well that they’ve saved Japan today, but there will always be evil lurking and stewing in the shadows, waiting for the next greatest hero to bring to their knees.

The hospital barred anyone outside of the immediate family to see patients, no matter how much you begged every front desk associate to let you see him. You didn’t want to resort to sounding desperate, but you gave in by the end of the week, stopping by Bakugo’s family home to talk with his parents. To your surprise, Mitsuki was home and answered the door. Not more than a second passed before she was scooping you up into a hug, her shaky hands clutching the back of your shirt as if you were her own daughter returning home for the first time in months.

“Hi sweetie,” she greets, her voice hushed and somber; an entire 180 from her normal demeanor. She lets you go, moving her hands to your shoulders as she invites you inside.

You spend some time catching up with her before asking the inevitable question lingering in the air. “How’s Katsuki? The hospital wouldn’t let me in to see him.”

Mitsuki’s eyes glisten, tears pooling in her eyes as she shakes her head and swallows harshly. “He’s a tough ass kid. Surgery went as good as it could’ve, but…” she trails off, wiping the lone tear rolling over her cheek. “Why don’t you come with me this afternoon to the hospital?”

You bite your lip, hands curling in on themselves as they rest on your knees. “But they told me—”

“Screw that!” She interrupts, standing to her feet. “You’re comin’ with me. You are family to us.”

Your stomach cartwheels as the hospital comes into view from the backseat of the Bakugo family car, Masaru driving the three of you through the visitor’s parking lot. Mitsuki glances in the rear view mirror, catching the nervous twitch in your lips as you stared out the window.

“Dear, could you give us a minute?” she asks Masaru, motioning him to go on ahead. He nods in acknowledgment and leaves the car to head to the lobby.

“Do you wanna talk before going inside?”

How the hell did she know you were nervous? She’s known you for a good chunk of your live, it’s not too far fetched she’d be able to analyze your emotions like she does for her own son.

“I'm...” you say meekly, fidgeting with your jeans. “...trying to stay positive, but I’ve had so many nasty nightmares and I don’t know what to expect. I've only heard rumors at school about his condition.”

Mitsuki reaches to the backseat and gently takes one of your hands in hers. “Honey, it’s okay. You’re allowed to be scared. Shit, I’m terrified for him and all the other kids…this isn’t something everyday people experience, so it’s unfair to expect yourself to have standards on how to feel. He's alright, I can promise you that.”

You sigh, her words giving you a sense of comfort. “Thank you.”

“And if I can say one thing,” she adds, squeezing your hand to grab your attention. “That kid adores you, he’s just a stupid boy who doesn’t know how to say it.”

The laugh that bubbles up from your belly is genuine, a thin layer of anxiety dissolving at the thought of him getting embarrassed by his mom’s words. Nodding, you let go of her hand and open the car door, signaling you’re ready to go inside.

“Katsuki! You can’t be up and roaming around!”

Mitsuki’s heels click against the marble flooring as she scampers to Bakugo’s side down the hallway, Masaru trailing behind her when she catches a glimpse of him hobbling into a room that isn’t his own. You stay back, peering from around the corner to avoid being seen if he happened to glance your way. A few minutes pass before you faintly hear Masaru say, "Come on, let's get you back to your room to rest," and the sounds of their footsteps retreating down the hall.

It's almost embarrassing how long it takes you to work up the courage to follow after them - what's the big deal? Your best friend is physically here, not some ghost or a walking corpse from your nightmares. You knew in your heart what it was that kept you frozen in place, a feeling you've long shut away, burying it within the depths of your heart to keep yourself sane.

Love.

And it scared the shit out of you, especially now.

Retreating back to the lobby, you mindlessly scan the vending machines as a distraction until a hand touches your back. You jump at the contact and turn to see Mitsuki and Masaru standing behind you.

"We're heading home for a few hours to make some dinner and come back with leftovers for Katsuki. I told the nurses you're with us, so keep this pass with you." She hands you a visitors badge and you tuck it in your uniform pocket. "I'll bring you some dinner, too, dear. Don't waste your money on snacks. Now go see him, he could use some time away from us."

You've got a chance to be alone with Bakugo to talk with him about...everything, and you're frozen in the goddamn lobby. It takes a bit of kicking yourself in the ass to get moving, but eventually, you begin to warily make your way back to the patient wing.

A vague memory of standing at UA’s entrance comes barreling to the front of your mind, the day that the hero courses all left to prepare for the war torn city streets with the pros. You’d stood to the side, passively blessing everyone with good luck and your best wishes as they prepared to depart. When Bakugo shuffles away from his parents, he spots you in the crowd and approaches you with a straight face. Just when you’re about to say something, he grabs you by the shoulders, spins you around and pushes you toward a set of hedges nearby. Not completely out of sight, but enough to hide from the majority of the congregation of friends and families.

“Kats?” You question, confused by him secluding the two of you from everyone else.

“Not another word,” Bakugo warns, cornering you in the darkness of the wall and bushes. He hesitates before reaching for one of your hands, warmth flooding from his palm into yours. His other hand scratches at the back of his neck nervously, eyes upturned to the sky as he speaks lowly.

“Wanted to say thanks for supporting my dream of bein’ a hero all these years. Don’t go worrying about me while I’m out there, alright?”

Before you could interject, his back was to you and marching over to join the others.

His words rang in your head every night, repeatedly taunting you about the feelings that rattled your ribs from how fast he made your heart beat.

You should have told him then.

The walk up the stairs to his floor fills you with unexplainable jitters that you've never felt before - were you dreading the conversation? Are you scared he wouldn't reciprocate your feelings, despite Mitsuki's words from earlier? Or...afraid to see the damage in person?

You find his name on one of the patient plaques, taking a deep breath as your knuckles tap on the hollow door. His voice follows soon after, "Yeah, come in."

Your hand lingers on the door handle for a moment before you convince yourself to go inside.

‘Come on, it’s Katsuki. He's your best fucking friend. He knows everything about you and vice versa. Don’t be a damn coward and make it weird.’

The door slides on the track at a snails pace, revealing your face bit by bit to Bakugo as he stares in your direction. Imagine your surprise when his eyes widen upon seeing you, mouth open to say something, but nothing comes out. You shut the door and walk over to the right side of his hospital bed.

“Hey Katsu—”

The words refused to come out as you took in his current condition - a full arm cast, a brace around his waist, oxygen tubes through his nose and multiple bandages covering his pretty face. The window sill is lined with various vases of fresh flowers and 'Get Well Soon!' cards. It's overwhelming, the lump in your throat hardening at the sight, unable to stop the lightning bolts of anxiety zapping the color from your face. Bakugo snaps you out of it when his left hand reaches across the bed and grips your wrist, pulling you closer to him.

“Stop analyzin’ the damage and c’mere already.”

Before you could react, he’s using his free arm to wrap around your shoulders, tucking you against him as tightly as he could manage. “Was wonderin’ when you were gonna come visit me.”

The tears are swiftly building on your waterline, threatening to downpour all over your cheeks and stain his hospital gown. It takes every ounce of willpower not to say 'I didn't think I'd ever see you again.'

“They wouldn’t let me, I’ve been trying for a week. Your mom convinced them to let me in,” you explain as you lay one of your hands over his heart, thumbing over the fabric and feeling the freshly raised scar tissue underneath. “I’ve called and texted you, but figured they didn’t let you have your phone.”

“I don’t even know where it is,” he huffs. “Ma probably has it, or it’s dead on my desk in the dorms.”

Bakugo’s fingers run through your hair, playing with it absentmindedly in silence, sighing to himself. “I’ve got so much shit runnin’ through my head that I can’t think straight.”

“Yeah...I thought that would be the case.” You pull yourself away from his embrace, shifting to the opposite side of the bed before settling in to the chair by the window. "What's going on?"

He pouts, extending his left hand in your direction. There’s a hint of pink under his bandages that begins blooming down his neck when he mumbles, “Want you closer.”

You pick up the chair to scoot it forward as Bakugo groans aloud, shaking his head and patting the empty space next to him in the hospital bed.

“Kats, there isn’t enough room for both of us,” you laugh, unable to hide the drag of your lips curling into a smile at his flustered expression. He stares at you for a moment longer, asking 'please?' with those beautiful ruby eyes of his.

How can you not give in to him?

As gingerly as you can, you slide under the thin blanket on the bed and up against his left side, his arm raised to make room for your body to mold into his. You’re terrified to touch him, treating him like a porcelain statue and stiffening in his embrace.

"M'not gonna break if ya touch me," he comments, patting you on the back for assurance. Reluctantly, you lay your head against his chest and drape your arm over his midsection, settling in and getting as comfortable as you could in the confined space, careful to avoid all of the wires and tubes hooked up to him.

"I'm not used to you being touchy-feely for more than a minute at a time," you joke, smiling when you hear the click of his tongue against his teeth in response.

"My damn parents are the only ones I've been stuck with, gimme a goddamn break!"

A few minutes pass before you two carry on the conversation again, Bakugo clearing his throat awkwardly before letting go of the breath he was holding. "How...are ya holdin' up?"

Truthfully? You weren't, hoping that the light purple pockets forming under your eyes and lifeless hair were not dead giveaways of your mental status.

"I've...been better. What about you?" you reply, blatantly lying through your teeth. It wouldn't be fair to lay out all of the traumatic shit you've thought about over the last week when he's in the hospital recovering from the actual traumatic events.

"It's...lonely here," Bakugo mutters faintly, almost too low to hear. "An' I can't sleep. The nurses are nice, though, same with the therapist they sent in yesterday."

"They made you see a therapist straight out of surgery?"

"Right? S'what I said. Didn't talk much, though. Basically gave me the rundown of UA supplying all the students a therapist next month. Don't think it'll do much for me, not like I can undo all the shit that happened, but Ma talked me into goin' later on."

"Can't hurt, even if it's every once in awhile."

"...Yeah."

You trace some of the creases in his hospital gown idly, savoring his presence and the sound of his voice. Bakugo fidgets with the material of your shirt, wanting to avoid dumping all of his thoughts on your shoulders, but the weight is too much for him to hold onto any longer.

"Izuku's...quirkless again. I don't know how to feel, but I cried like a damn child when I overheard him talkin' with All Might about it. Gave me a perspective that I never thought about before all this shit went down."

"And what's that?"

"...I robbed him of his dream."

You wish, more than anything, that you could go into Bakugo's head and pluck out all the guilt he still harbors over his and Midoriya's childhood together. It's not like Midoriya held it against him anymore, and Bakugo knew that, but he couldn't shake those demons loose that reminded him of his past self.

"You didn't. He knew the costs of One for All and agreed to it, it's not your fault."

"I know, but I feel so fuckin' shitty for treating him like he's dirt for so long."

"It's not stupid to feel," you say, feeling his body tense and relax beneath you. "But Katsuki, you need to forgive yourself. You can't let this eat away at you forever, it's been over two years since you apologized."

His heart aches at your words, knowing you're right, but he couldn't forgive himself...not yet, anyways. Maybe tomorrow, or next week, even next month, just not right now.

"...thank you," is all Bakugo can say, biting the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from getting choked up about it for a second time. Silence falls upon the room, letting the two of you simply co-exist for a moment of peace. It had been a long fucking week, and being in the same room, let alone touching one another, was a luxury you didn't know if you'd ever have again.

"I'm out of commission for a bit, but that's not a concern to me right now. I know I can come back from this shit and stay on track to bein' number one. There's somethin' else that's been on my mind since..." he trails off, the hand on your back moving to your shoulder to tighten his hold on you. "...I fought Shigaraki in that damn fortress."

You rest your hand atop his on your shoulder. "You don't have to talk about it if it's stressful."

"No, I need'ta tell ya before I chicken out 'cause I didn't say it when I had the chance." He tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, twisting the strands in his finger as he bit his lip nervously. He's thankful you aren't currently looking at him, else wise all his cover would be blown before he spoke one word about it.

"The second he broke my arm, I didn't think about the pain, all I could think about was seein' you again. And then some otherworldly shit happened, the weirdest fuckin' out of body experience. I didn't believe in any of that junk until now."

Hearing him recollect the memory of his untimely death resurfaces all of the dormant fears lying in your mind from your nightmares. You screw your eyes shut to keep them away, to shield you a little longer from the pain they inflict upon you. Bakugo was right here, right now, with you. He's not an illusion or a figment of your imagination...he's here.

"...are you shaking?" He asks, hand cascading down your back to calm your nerves. You hadn't noticed that you were trembling, focused on doing your damndest to keep it together and let him spill his guts freely. "Do you want me to stop talkin' about it?"

It's muffled against his hospital gown, but you're able to squeak out a measly 'no.' He pats your head tenderly and shuts his eyes before continuing.

"I remember focusin' on rushing in and getting hit a second time, but this felt...different. There wasn't any pain, and when I came to, All Might's vestige ghost was there. He didn't say anything when I talked to him," Bakugo pauses, inhaling deeply to compose himself. "He led me back to UA and took me to the support wing's workshop. You were testing somethin' with Goggles, giggling away like an idiot with her."

The tears welling up in your eyes were inevitable at this point - was he insinuating that while he was skirting between life and death, he thought about you?

"And then I was outside, lying in the grass at our favorite spot down by the river. You'd dropped your fuckin' popsicle in the dirt, whining about how much you wanted it. I made fun of ya a bit before givin' you mine, but you insisted we share it instead. It was...nice. Everything felt warm and peaceful. When I actually woke up to Jeanist and the others, they kept sayin' I was revived and needed to go to the hospital. That's when I jumped in to help Deku and, well, y'know the rest."

Your body shivers, the hiccup you were desperately holding in coming to the surface in a muted sob. He silently lets a few tears fall, too, the bandages growing saturated with saltiness and stinging the open cuts on his face. His stomach was in knots, but shockingly, he welcomed the foreign feeling. To him, it only confirmed what he felt was true. He didn't know jack shit about love, but was more than confident that he could untangle the complexities of it with you.

"I was knockin' on death's door and you led me back home. Before I left, I was gonna tell ya how important you are to me...now more than ever."

You pray that Bakugo can't feel, or hear, how hard your heart was beating against your sternum, hammering away at his unexpected confession. The whirring of the medical machinery accompanied his words hanging in the air, swirling in tandem with the thoughts in your head.

Do it.

Say it.

Take the chance.

Cautiously, you attempt to sit up and haphazardly slip on the sheets, colliding foreheads with him while trying to catch yourself. Instead of scolding you, Bakugo bursts out laughing, a few stray tears falling from the corners of his eyes. "Y'coulda said something instead of head butting me, brat."

"Like you gave me a chance to say shit!" you scoff, poking him in the chest playfully. When your eyes meet, reflective hearts are bouncing between your gazes, faces lingering dangerously close to one another. "I've...been waiting to tell you something, too."

"Yeah? An' what's that?"

Your vision begins to blur, eyes falling shut as the gravity becomes too much to bare any longer. Your left hand glides up his chest, finding purchase on his collarbone while your lips rest plush against his. Electricity races through your veins and time stands still, all the clichés about love coming to the forefront of your mind and how true they proved to be in the moment. You barely notice when Bakugo's free hand threads through your hair and settles at the nape of your neck, melding the two of you into a deeper first, and definitely not last, kiss. When you part, it's not met with gasps for air, but with breathless sighs of bliss. You're pulling away only to gravitate back into his orbit, unable to resist his advance when he lurches forward to steal a second kiss. Your lips quiver against his as the words in your heart beg to be released, unable to cage the emotions thrashing around in your chest.

"You have no idea how many nightmares…I had about you not coming home…or that it was too late…to bring you back to life in the hospital,” you mutter between delicate kisses, finally having the strength to lean back and lock eyes with him. “I'd be standing at your goddamn grave like a widow whose husband returned from war in a casket, vacantly staring at the ground while the rain soaked through my clothes. The roses always had thorns that cut my hands open. It changed every single night, a new version of losing you before getting the chance to say...," you stop, attempting to swallow the pain long enough to confess, but your voice betrays you and cracks as you blurt out, "that I love you, Katsuki, and—"

He dreamily exclaims, "I love you, too," before the realization hits that he said it out loud and not in his head. It catches you both off guard and sends him into an adorable panic, the previous pink hue to his skin growing deeper by the second.

"S-shit," he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his nose to hide his lovesick expression. Your run your finger along his jawline, careful not to catch any of the bandaging, and stop at his chin to coax his attention back to you.

"I want to be the loudest person that you can hear cheering for you in a crowd when you save a little kid or capture a villain." Your hand cups the right side of his face while you continue to pour your bruised heart out. "To be your number one fan at signings and promo events that an agency is going to force your grumpy ass to do, the one who picks up your broken pieces when no one else is around. I want to give you everything because you deserve nothing less than that."

For the first time in his short life, Bakugo is speechless. What did he ever do to deserve your endearment? He wasn't one to shy away from expressing what was owed to him through blood, sweat and tears - like working hard on an assignment and deserving nothing short of a 100% passing grade - but this was unlike anything else. He truly didn't know why you were so captivated by his energy, even before these confessions came stumbling out into the open. What about him appealed to you in such a way to make you desire him so deeply?

"I—" he struggles to find the words to say, searching his brain incessantly for something to match your sweet sincerity. "I'd be happy sharin' popsicles with you by the river for the rest of my life if that's what it came down to. I don't need money or fame as a hero, bein' with you is more than enough for me."

In the past, something so sickly sweet would make Bakugo gag and be an immature jackass over the sentimentality, but now? He wouldn't admit that he enjoys the warmth blossoming in his chest and how it gives him stupid ass butterflies, especially when it comes to you. It struck at the most random times; when you'd laugh at his dumb jokes, toss him a smile in the hallway between classes, sit on the countertop while he cooked dinner for you two in the common room kitchen, fall asleep during your movie nights on his shoulder and drool on his shirt...the list kept growing exponentially until it kept him up at night, yearning to be by your side whenever you two were apart.

He should've known the moment you approached him on the playground over a decade ago, joining him on that rusty swing set out of nowhere and started talking his ear off about the dandelions by the riverbed.

Fuck, he was smitten as hell for you.

Your eyes well up with crocodile tears, lower lip wobbling and unable to stop the fat droplets coating your lashes, staining your strawberry cheeks and dripping down your neck.

"T-thank you," you choke out, wiping your palms over your face to erase the tears. Bakugo chuckles under his breath, reaching to cradle your cheek in his hand.

"So, do I still gotta ask you?" he jokes, smiling awkwardly as his eyes dart to the ceiling.

You don't know what he's referring to. "Ask me...what?"

"...Seriously?" Bakugo lets his hand fall from your face. The blank expression on your face confirms you are absolutely clueless to what he means.

"Fuck, fine." He rolls his eyes, shrugging his shoulders dramatically before shifting in the bed to re-position himself. He leisurely tilts his head forward and into your space, close enough for his breath to fan over your lips as he speaks. "I want ya to be mine."

"Didn't sound like a question to me," you tease, lovingly nuzzling your nose with his.

"Shut the fuck up...wanna hear ya say it."

Uh oh, gravity is kicking in again.

Your lips part with half-lidded eyes as you purr, "I'm already yours, Katsuki," before melting into him, sealing your promise with another kiss. He tries to control it, but the tiniest moan floods out of him when he experimentally swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, ferociously flaring your cheeks into a deep scarlet flush as you reciprocate. Instinctively, he moves his right arm to cradle you closer and is met with searing pain, jolting away from your lips unexpectedly.

"Fuck!" he shouts, out of breath and wincing at the pain burning into his shoulder. "Sorry, s'my fault for trying to move the damn thing. Wasn't thinkin' and forgot where we are."

The sparkle in his eyes dim as he cast his gaze downward to analyze the cast. His shoulders slump and he shakes his head, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I was never good at timin', but dammit, I wish I could hold ya properly."

"No, no, it's alright, we've got plenty of time when you can."

Bakugo exhales while shifting his weight to readjust, making room for you to lay on his chest and tucking you back under his good arm a second time.

"Promise me somethin'," he sighs into your hair. "No matter how awful shit gets in the future, don't lose faith in me or the others over some dumbass villains and let it sour your outlook on the world."

Wow, were your feelings that obvious?

"It's...not that." Guilt trickles down your spine, goosebumps prickling up your arms from pinpointing the negative associations you've built up in your head. "Of course I believe in you, Kats, but it scares the shit out of me that this all happened before any of you had the chance to be pros. I know you said you're not worried about it, but I am."

He knows you're right, you have every reason to be concerned over the state of the world and what that means for the future after everything that's happened this year.

"I have hope," he starts, letting his head fall back against the stack of pillows. "Doc told me my right arm is dead in the water 'cause of all the bone segments they had to join together in the surgery, but the possibility of it healin' isn't out of the question."

Your heart sinks in the pause of conversation. How could he have such a positive outlook after being legally dead?

"I refused a prosthetic and wanna try rehab first. M'not gonna let it ruin my approach to bein' a hero. The real challenge is my heart, but that's not—"

"Wait, what's wrong with your heart? I thought Edgeshot patched it up?" you interrupt, turning up at him with your brows scrunched together. It might be a silly question, all things considered, but Edgeshot was a masterful surgeon with a high success rate in his field...everything should be fine, right?

His heartbeat kicks up in tempo under your cheek - that can't be a good sign.

"He did...but it's not that simple, sweetheart. I've gotta take it easy for at least six weeks, maybe some meds to keep things stable. Shit sucks, considering I'm used to training daily, but it's not impossible to deal with. I can handle it. Plus, I got you an' your gadgets on my side."

"And you're telling me all this, but are worried about my feelings and Izuku being quirkless instead of yourself?"

Damn, you hit the nail on the head. Bakugo smirks, laughing to himself. "Heh, yeah. Guess so."

"Typical Katsuki, silently caring about everyone else before himself." You snuggle into him, a yawn falling out of you as you pull the blanket up to your shoulders. "Stop making me like you more and go back to grumpy, please."

"Only if ya promise to stick with me."

"Like you have to ask. I promise."

He places a kiss to the crown of your head. "Good."

Your eyes fall shut, the rhythm of Bakugo's heart beginning to lull you into a tranquil, and much needed, sleep. Before you pass out, you drowsily slur, "Everything's gonna be okay. You're the strongest person I know...love you, Kats."

Pearlescent tears pool at the corners of his eyes, the ones that escape rolling over the gauze on his face and soaking into the material once more. All the pain, worry, and relentless thoughts about failure temporarily fade away into nothingness, offering him peace and a sense of safety to drift off to dreamland. He closes his eyes, lips upturned into a smile as he whispers, "Thank you...love you too, princess. Sweet dreams."

The door to Bakugo's room creaked open a half-hour later, Mitsuki and Masaru returning with dinner as promised. "Hey kid, we're—"

She stops herself, putting a finger to her lips and turning to Masaru, signaling for him to quietly shut the door. They can't help but jointly smile at the sight before them, the two of you are snoring away on the hospital bed together, cozied up under the sheets and out like a light.

"Reminds you of us, doesn't it? I had a feeling seeing her would help him relax," Masaru says, lightly stroking Mitsuki's back. "Why don't we come back in a bit to see if they're up?"

She nods and hands the containers of mabo tofu for him to take while she approaches the hospital bed. Her palm glides over Bakugo's cast, thumb tracing over his right wrist as her mind wandered back to memories of him as a little firecracker of a child; chasing butterflies in the backyard, playing super heroes with Izuku, and his toothy little grin anytime he was excited about something. Nineteen years flew by, and Mitsuki couldn't be prouder of her bombastic hero. Before turning to leave with Masaru, she affectionately pinches Bakugo's cheek, light enough not wake him from his slumber. She peers over at you, admiring how much you've grown, too.

'If anyone's gonna take care of my brat, it's you...thank you.'

The two of them leave you to enjoy each other's comfort.

The hurricane has passed and there's sunlight shining on a new future. The will be storms to come, but society has been given a chance to heal, all thanks to the next generation of pro heroes sacrificing their youth to challenge the status quo. Things won't be easy, that's for damn sure, but it's gonna take something stronger than the depths of hell to keep Katsuki Bakugo away from his dream - and you.

written in a frenzy while listening to epiphany // evermore & semi-proof read through my own tears, so apologies if it's just a bunch of mushy ramble. i have a bunch of other projects to work on, and am shifting back to them, this just was in my head and i needed to get it out. thanks for reading. <3

#☆.rei writes #katsuki bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #soft bakugou #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #soft bakugo #my hero academia

554 notes · View notes

bluecollarmcandtf · 5 months

Text

Bros, Bros, and more Bros

I made a mistake! My cousin told me about this fortune teller that cast a spell on him. Apparently, it made every man he ran into act like a fatherly figure in his life. I had an awesome dad, but I've always struggled to connect with guys my own age, so I tracked the witch down and begged her for another spell. She eventually came around, but the effects aren't quite what I expected...

"Sup, dude! Wanna skip and hit the park?"

My eyes stretch wide to take in the sight of my own father, carrying a skateboard over his shoulder like it's the most natural thing in the world. He's been acting like this for weeks; not washing his hair, barely even washing himself, and constantly wearing that stupid cap backwards. He's lost any sense of his old self!

"Dad, it's Monday. You've got work," I reply, not wanting him to piss his boss off.

"Work blows!" he sneers, "I hate wearing this stupid tie, and I'd rather hang with you, bro."

I sigh as my father tosses down his skateboard and extends a palm, pulling me into a cliche bro-hug where he claps me on the back. My dad used to give out hugs all the time, but it was never as performatively masculine as this. All this stupid curse did was turn my father into an 40 year-old frat guy.

"You're going to work," I say firmly, "And I'm going to school. We can play videogames or whatever when we get back later tonight."

"Bruuhhh!" he groans, "Fine. I'll catch you later, dude. There's pizza in the fridge if you want."

The idea of leftover pizza this early in the morning makes my stomach ache. My dad used to cook an entire meal every morning, complete with fruits and veggies. Now, he'd probably settle for a bag of chips.

The man leaves the skateboard behind and grabs his suit jacket, pulling it on with an attitude. He gives me one last head nod before bounding out of the house, hair flowing behind him. I imagine it's only a matter of time before my dad's boss is fed up with his new persona. I can't imagine a bro-personality is very conducive to getting work done in a corporate office. Hopefully, he'll mature soon.

With an empty stomach, I saunter out of the kitchen and walk to campus. I'm grateful to live close to the university. Hopefully, my curse won't get in the way of my day.

"Hey, how's my favorite student doing, bro?"

My professor yells and breaks into a goofy grin at the sight of me. I close the door to his office to give us a bit of privacy. Mr. Carlton only acts like this when I stop by, so his colleagues would be shocked to see such a drastic shift in his usually stoic personality.

"I'm good, Professor Carlton," I say, "I wanted to check on my grade for this course."

"No need to be so formal, dude," he smiles, clapping me on the back, "You can call me Daniel. Want a drink? I have some bourbon."

"I'm good. I really just-"

"Relax, bro," my professor says, shoving a glass in my hand, filled to the brim, "This is good stuff. I save it for special occasions, so sit down! Kick your shoes off! I don't care!"

The department head pulls off his suit jacket and leans back in his chair, propping his feet up on the desk and stretching his arms behind his head. I'd never seen the man act so unprofessional, but ever since the curse, he's started treating me like his closest buddy.

"Professor...sorry...Daniel, I just wanted to hear about my grade."

"I got you, bro!" he laughed, "Just keep doing what you're doing. I don't care if you don't show up!"

My shoulders relax. That's what I want to hear. It's not that I don't want to attend his lectures, but the last time I did, he started acting like a jackass in front of the entire class of 50 students. His presentation went from ancient monetary systems to ratings of best celebrity nip-slips. It's a miracle he didn't get fired!

"Ok, good. I have to go," I say checking the time, "And you have class in 20 minutes."

"Shit, I know," he groans and gulps down the rest of his booze, "Another day another dollar, I guess. When can we hang out, man? Tonight? I really wanna hang out with my guy."

"Nope, sorry!" I tense up and grab my backpack, "Good luck with the lecture."

"Right on, bro," he holds a sad hand up for a high-five, swallowing the rest of the drink he poured me.

I give my tipsy professor a halfhearted clap and scamper out of the office as quickly as possible. These interactions make me cringe so hard when a grown man acts young and cool for me. It's especially awkward to see such a respected individual sink to such a low level. What would we even do if he came over?

"Dude! Long time, no see!"

In the hallway, I run into the football coach and two of the team's best players. The three of them look like they're getting back from an early morning conditioning session. They're all sweaty, panting, and happy to see me.

"Oh, hey," I muster, feeling increasingly less cool around these jocks. I hate to admit it, but guys like this wouldn't give me the time of day before I got that bro-curse.

"Hey, man! You gotta come hang out with us," the brunette grins, "The team's still changing, but you're cool to come in the locker room!"

"Yeah, bro!" the blonde quickly adds, "We'd love to have you in there!"

My heart pounds faster and faster. This is why I've never been able to connect with guys my own age. I find myself boning up every time they look in my direction. Now that these two athletes are practically begging for me to join them in the locker room, my erection is bursting out of my pants!

"We can take care of that too," the coach suddenly mentions, pointing a finger at the tent I'm trying to hide in my crotch.

"What?" I stammer with a dry mouth.

"What do you think bros are for?" the coach continues, clapping his two players on the back, "My boys would be happy to help a brother out!"

The two football jocks nod. It feels like I'm dreaming, and I don't know what to do. Before I can decide, the two athletes have approached and grabbed me by the arm. Their grips are firm, and I realize I'm being escorted into the changing room whether I like it or not!

"Who's this guy?"

My stomach drops as I enter the locker room, finding an array of footballers in different states of dress. They all glance up at me with confusion, like I'm not supposed to be there, but then their faces soften. The gypsy's magic sets in, and they don't see a stranger when they look at me. They see their bro.

"Oh, it's you, bro," the same jock says, letting down his guard. I think I recognize him as the quarterback.

"Oh yeah, dude!" the massive lineman stands up and pulls me into a sweaty hug, "Glad you're here!"

"That's right guys," the brunette at my side says, still holding me tightly in place, "Our best bud is here, and he needs some attention."

My face flushes as I suddenly remember the problem poking out between my legs. By now, the entire football team is staring at it. If anything, it's only become more rock solid.

"Let me take care of that for you, bro," the quarterback says, grabbing my crotch without any hesitation.

"Move, I'll do it," says the lineman, pushing the quarterback out of the way and getting on his knees. He opens his mouth wide and-

"Shut up, all of you!" the coach suddenly roars! The locker room falls silent: these athletes are really well trained. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right. Line up!"

"Yes, coach!"

The jocks back up and form a line in front of the lockers. Even the blonde and brunette that were holding me, release and join the rest of the team on the bench. Suddenly, I'm standing with the coach, looking at an entire team of well-disciplined football players. My throbbing erection is very apparent and pointing right at the small crowd of muscular men.

"Our bro deserves to be kept satisfied, right?" the coach slams a hand on my back.

"Yes, coach!" they shout back.

"So we don't just want to get our boy off once and move on, now do we?" he punctuates his question with another slap, this time lower on my back.

"No, coach!"

"We're going to set up a system for us to get him off whenever he needs it!"

"Yes, coach!"

The broad-shouldered and balding coach gives me one more slap, clapping me on the ass this time while staring into my eyes. "I'm gonna have my boys take turns sucking you off, bro. You just tell me which one's your favorite. Sound cool?"

I manage to mumble my assent, and with one look from coach, the quarterback is on his knees crawling towards my crotch. He pulls down my pants and unleashes my aching hard-on. "I got you, bro," he says, before putting his mouth to work.

After a few minutes, the coach pulls the jock off my pole and orders the linebacker to get busy. Before long, it's the brunette's turn, then the blonde's. I cycle through all 30 of the team's exceptional players, and I've gotten off more than just a few times. It's impossible to choose a favorite.

At the end of it all, the coach pushes the last player aside and says, "My turn, bro," before opening his mouth as wide as he can.

The entire football team watches as I spend the next 15 minutes just filling their coach's eager throat. When I'm finally done, I feel completely spent. I swap numbers with each jock and am repeatedly promised that they will be available whenever I call, but it isn't enough. They want to hang out with me now. They want to go out and party. I find it too difficult to say 'no' to a group of 30 eager athletes, so I let them sweep me up and take me to the nearest bar.

Needless to say, we end up causing a bit too rowdy of a scene.

"I got a complaint about a bunch of college idiots causing a ruckus. Would that be you?"

The officer was all business when he first walked in the bar. My football bros were dancing and yelling, barely even paying attention to the policeman scowling at the wild scene in front of him. He looked pissed, and his glare only softened when it found me.

"Woah, didn't know you were here, man," the cop says, cracking a slight grin on his hardened face.

"Well, I am!" I cry, feeling the effects of all the drinks my bros had been buying for me, "You should forget about work and party with us!"

"You got it, dude! Screw this badge!" the officer yells, pulling me into a tight embrace. I guess the bro-curse even works on law-enforcement!

Just like that, I'm dancing with a policeman in the middle of the dance floor. He doesn't have any moves, but he loosens up after we get some beer down his throat. The football team loves watching the cop party right alongside them. Apparently, this guy has broken up many of their parties in the past.

"Drink! Drink! Drink!"

The officer gulps down his seventh beer and slams the glass on the floor. It breaks, but the shattering is largely drowned out by the music. His onlookers go wild, but I can see the intoxication on his face. Beer is plastered around his mouth and dripping down his neck to soak into his uniform. I doubt this man has ever been this drunk in uniform before.

He stumbles over and throws a muscled arm over my shoulder, "Come here, bro. Let's do some shots or something!"

"I think it might be time to call it a night, officer," I yell in his ear.

"Oh, screw that!" he whines, "And don't call me officer! It's so formal!"

"Ok, what should I call you?"

"I dunno..." he mutters, "Buck! Call me Buck. That's what my wife calls me."

I roll my eyes at the mention of his wife. Of course this guy is taken. He's a complete stud of man. I've always liked a guy in uniform.

"How'd you like to come home with me tonight, Buck?" I ask sheepishly.

He lights up, "Bro, I thought you'd never ask!"

The cop grabs my arm with a wicked grin and stomps his way towards the door, dragging me along like I'm the prize he won at a fair. The players on the football team all stare at him with envy, mad that he's stealing their new best friend away for the night. I could see how badly each one of the jocks wished they were the one having a sleepover with me tonight.

"Hop in, I'll drive," officer Buck slurs his words and gestures to the police cruiser with his free hand.

"I think I'll handle the driving, if that's alright," I say, "Just hand over the keys."

"Anything for you, bro."

"Looks like someone got lucky!"

"Oh my God. Dad you're still up?"

"Bro, you said you'd play videogames tonight and then you never showed! What was I supposed to do?" he retorts, unbothered by the late hour or the cop hanging on my arm.

"You have to go to work in 4 hours!" I scream, "And you haven't even changed out of today's work clothes! What are you thinking?"

"Chill, bro," my dad says, turning to the drunk policeman holding my hand, "Take him to the bedroom and show him a good time. I'm sure you were going to, but the dude could use some extra help relaxing tonight."

The sound of my own father encouraging the man I brought home to 'show me a good time' makes me question everything again. My dad just witnessed his son bringing home a cop that's the same age as him. He doesn't even care! I want to tell him to grow up and be the man I used to know, but Buck is already jerking on my arm.

"Let's go, bro," he mumbles lowly, using his strong arms to drag me into the bedroom.

"Enjoy your new cop friend, bro!" my father calls and I hear the sounds of his videogames start back up.

I barely have time to worry about any of it. Has this curse gone too far? Will my dad make it to work tomorrow? Does Buck have a wife I need to worry about!?

It all goes away when I'm thrown on the bed. The intoxicated officer flips the lights down low, and stumbles in front of me. He may be drunk, but he is certainly not a disappointment. The cop stares down at me as he rips his state-issued hat off and unbuttons his dark uniform shirt, all the while moving his hips to the beat of gunfire from dad's videogame in the living room.

With his hairy chest exposed, he crawls on top of me and whispers in my ear, "Where do you want me to start? Us bros gotta look out for each other, don't we?"

#gay bros #male transformation #hypno story #gay ai art #gay hypnosis #gay mind control

603 notes · View notes

nereidprinc3ss · 9 months

Note

hii! could i request something w spence where he asks uni reader to move in with him and r is kinda nervous about it please🙏🙏 love all of ur fics, and thanksss 🫶🫶🫶

yass this is super cute!!!! thank you for the request, hope i did it justice

warnings/tags: fluff!! a teensy bit suggestive at the end if u squint... i cant help myself. i'm an animal

requests are open! sfw and nsfw welcome

(a/n: this is probably an awkward spot to put this but I didn't wanna make a whole other post: THANK YOU GUYS FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT!!! i have gained over 100 followers since i last posted and have over 1k notes on both of my recent works thats literally bonkers insane crazy town ACTUALLY. i love hearing your thoughts and reactions to my work even if its just a silly little comment. so yeah. thanks and so much love to u ALL)

“So basically, I’m not allowed in the dorm except to sleep because she always has her boyfriend over, and I told her that’s literally insane—I’m paying thousands of dollars to be there just like her. If she wanted privacy she should have gotten a single. She can’t just lock me out of our shared bedroom all the time! I live there!”

You’re stabbing violently at your food by the time you finish your verbal tirade.

“Okay, maybe put the knife down before you hurt yourself,” Spencer suggests, readying a hand to take the implement away from you if necessary. The knife clatters against your plate as you drop it.

“She’s driving me fucking crazy,” you mumble, rubbing your eyes until you see fireworks. “And the housing department said I don’t have grounds to transfer rooms, so I’m stuck with her for the rest of the year.”

There’s no reply from your boyfriend, and a pang of guilt in your chest makes you look up at him again. His expression, as so often is the case, is inscrutable.

“I’m sorry for ranting. I’m really happy to see you and I don’t mean to ruin dinner, I just—”

“You could stay with me,” he interrupts.

You blink.

“Like... when she locks me out?”

Spencer laughs self-consciously.

“No, like... permanently.”

For a moment you just gape at him like an idiot, trying to comprehend his offer.

He wants you to move in... with him. Permanently. He wants to live with you.

You realize you’ve been staring at him for far too long, and you lean back, inhaling deeply as the world launches into motion again.

“That’s... a big step, Spence,” you breathe. His eyes scan you head to toe, and you realize he’s most definitely analyzing your body language.

“You don’t have to say yes. It was just an offer,” he shrugs, standing up and clearing the plates from the table.

“Wait,” you call, following him to the kitchen. “Are you upset now because I leaned away from you when you asked?”

He turns from the counter, looking at you blankly.

“Of course not. That would be ridiculous.”

Oh, he totally is.

You tentatively step forward, gently lacing your fingers through his—but unable to meet his eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you begin gingerly, “but I’m... I’m not done with school. We always said I would move in once I graduated.”

“That’s an arbitrary limitation we set for ourselves. There are plenty of ways to get you from here to campus every day.”

“But you’re not even here sometimes. I would just be alone.”

“You would have the whole apartment to yourself. You would have my bed. You wouldn’t have to share a shower with an entire floor of college students anymore. And ultimately, we would get to spend a lot more time together.”

You try to speak but find your throat is tight. Spending more time together is exactly what you’re afraid of.

“What’s your real objection here?” he asks quietly, running his thumb back and forth over the underside of your wrist. You swallow, watching the motion of his hand.

“I’m afraid, that if we move in together... you’ll stop liking me.” The words come out paper thin, barely audible.

And he laughs. Your teary eyes dart up, surprised by the reaction—slightly hurt, even.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I’m not laughing at you,” Spencer says, sobering up when he sees your baleful expression. “I just can’t believe you think I’d stop liking you.” He wipes away the tears beading on your eyelashes delicately. “I’m in love with you. Neurologically that is pretty hard to undo.”

You study his face, looking for any sign of hesitation or dishonesty. All you find is pure fondness in the curve of his lips; utter devotion in the soft set of his eyes.

“You promise you won’t start hating me as soon as I move in?”

“I promise.”

You lean against his chest, craning your neck to look up at him.

“I can be pretty annoying.”

“I think I can handle it.”

“I take really long showers.”

He kisses you softly. “Me too. I’m sure we can figure out a way to conserve water.”

Despite your reservations you smile against his lips.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Okay.”

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

1K notes · View notes

xomakara · 1 month

Text

Making Music

SUMMARY | You and Johnny are rival music professors who are forced to work together on a joint project. Through the process, you get to know each other better, eventually giving into the attraction you have for each other.

PAIRINGS | Johnny x Reader

GENRE | college!professor!Johnny, college!professor!Reader, college au, co-worker trope, rivals to lovers, smut

CONTENT/WARNINGS | profanity/strong language, drinking, protected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), slight fingering, dirty talk, oral sex (f. and m. receiving/giving), praise kink, pet names, couch sex, multiple positions

RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+

LENGTH | 10,031 words

TAGLIST |

NETWORKS | @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Another college au to add to my many NCT college aus I have lol. But this time, both are professors. I hope this turned out well. I'm always a tough critique of my own work lol. I hope you all like this!

You watched as the students in the Music Department made a buzz when they heard of the joint project that would happen during the year's second half. It wasn't unusual to have a joint project. It has been done a few times between departments. The students didn't seem to have any issues working with each other. It was more like the teachers were having a problem.

Well...more like you and Johnny Suh having issues.

Scratch that…more like you had problems.

You were the Music Business Professor and he was the Music Production Professor. You both were popular with the students and you were the two best in the department. So it wasn't a surprise when you both were put in charge of this project.

The Music Production students would be involved in all creative and production sides of things while the Music Business Students would take the business side. You both would have your classes work together as you worked alongside them.

You and Johnny had been rivals ever since you got this job. The reason is because you both have the same skill sets. You could have been teaching music production and Johnny could have taught music business but you love the business aspect. Johnny on the other hand would rather have his hands dirty with the music itself.

When you first met Johnny, you didn't expect him to be a professor. He didn't look or dress the part. You thought he was a graduate student but then you were informed he was the teacher. It surprised you because he looked so young. But then again, he also thought the same of you.

That's how it all started.

You were surprised that Johnny could do everything he could. It was as if he knew all there was about music. He could sing, play instruments, produce, write lyrics, and could even dance. He could have been an idol or a professional musician but instead, he chose to become a teacher.

You both were so busy arguing with each other. The two of you were so passionate about music that it was hard to agree on things. This project had to be a success and the two of you had to be a team to achieve it. But that didn't stop the two of you from bickering over small things.

It didn't help that Johnny was so attractive. You hated how he could make a plain white shirt and a pair of jeans look sexy. You also hated how he could make his voice so low and sexy. But most of all, you hated how his voice turned so soft when he spoke to you.

You would catch yourself staring at him, getting lost in his beautiful eyes, and his handsome smile. You would get a warm feeling in your chest and you hated that feeling. You wanted to hate him. You wanted to dislike him. But he was so charming that you couldn't help but like him.

You tried not to get involved with your coworkers. Especially with Johnny. He was very much a flirt. You didn't know if he did it because he was attracted to you or because it was just his nature. Either way, it annoyed you.

You hated the fact that your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. You hated how every time you were close to him, your face would feel hot. And most of all, you hated how you couldn't stop thinking about him.

You had feelings for Johnny.

You wanted to tell him that you had feelings for him.

But what was the point?

You had a feeling he would reject you. He would probably say something like 'you're just another coworker'. You were sure that he wasn't the type of guy to date. If anything, he probably has many girls chasing after him. There was no way someone like Johnny Suh would choose someone like you over anyone else.

You had been sitting at your desk, grading some papers when there was a knock at your office door.

"Come in."

"Y/N, can we talk?" Johnny said, leaving the door to your office ajar.

"About what?" You ask, gathering your papers and shoving them in your bag.

"We have to get our heads together on this project. The semester is going by faster than we realize. I think we should start meeting more often to get the ball rolling. I would like for us to be on the same page. At least let's show our kids that we can work together. What do you think?"

Johnny is right.

"Fine." You muttered as you ran a hand through your hair. "You think we should also jump on this project with the kids instead of just sitting back and watching them? You know...be involved?"

Involved? Johnny was thinking of just overseeing the whole thing but maybe it would be better to join the kids in this. He's done this sort of project before but this time would be different. This would be the first time you would be involved in such a project and he would love to see you in action.

"Yes. That would be great. Are you sure though? You've never done this type of thing before. Are you up for the challenge?" Johnny asked, leaning on the doorframe.

"What the hell do you mean? Do you think I can't do it?" You said defensively.

"I didn't say that," Johnny replied. "It's just that this project would involve a lot of work. It would require long hours and dedication. It's not going to be easy. If you're not up for it, I won't force you."

"I am up for it, Johnny. You don't have to worry about me. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself." You replied.

"Oh yeah? Let's go, Y/N. Show me what you got." Johnny teased.

"Alright, let's meet after class tomorrow." You responded, trying to get the last word.

"How about we meet after class today?" Johnny offered.

"Today? No can do. I have other plans. Can't cancel." You responded.

"Other plans? What kind of plans?" Johnny asked.

"What kind? What's that got to do with you? Are you my mother? Am I not allowed to have plans on a Friday night?" You questioned defensively.

"Sorry, I was just curious. Forget I asked." Johnny replied quickly.

Johnny didn't want to admit it but he wanted to know what plans you had. Maybe you were going on a date? The thought of you going on a date with some guy bothered him. He didn't understand why it bothered him though. You were just another coworker. At least, that's what he told himself. But that was a lie. He liked you and he's had feelings for you since you met.

He tried not to think about you too much. But lately, it's gotten harder not to do so. Whenever he closes his eyes, your face is all that he sees. He couldn't believe a coworker, a girl who was so focused on the academics of the music business, could be so beautiful. But she is. She is beautiful in her own way. She doesn't need flashy outfits or tons of makeup to shine. Just her smile, her beauty, and her passion alone were enough to win him over.

So here he is, standing in front of the girl he likes. Asking her what plans she had on a Friday night.

"You know what?" You looked up at him. "Why don't you join me tonight? I was going to get drinks with some of our coworkers but I'm sure they wouldn't mind if you joined us. What do you say?"

"I guess I can join you. It sounds like fun." He replied.

"Great. Just don't bring the mood down, ok?" You laughed, turning off the lights.

"Hey, I'm not a party pooper. I know how to have fun." Johnny scoffed.

"We'll see." You smirked.

"You invited who?" Doyoung asked, eyes wide.

"Johnny." You repeated. "I invited him. Is that a problem?"

"I didn't think you two would get along." Jaehyun chimed in. "I thought you hated each other."

"It's not that I hate him...it's just...ugh, you know what? Forget it. He's coming and now I have to act like his handsome face isn't making me feel weird." You groaned.

"Ohhhhh... So you like him." Hendery teased.

"Don't even go there, Hendery. Just pretend like you never heard me say anything." You responded, your cheeks beginning to feel hot.

"Hey guys, sorry I'm late. Oh, hey Y/N." Kun waved.

"You're not late. Johnny isn't here yet." You answered.

"Oh, Johnny's coming? I thought you hated him." Kun wondered.

You slammed your head against the table and groaned. Why the fuck did everyone keep bringing that up? Did you not invite him? What would the reason be?

"She doesn't hate him." Hendery teased.

You rolled your eyes. "Can you not, please? It's bad enough you're all ganging up on me. I'm the one paying for all your drinks so can you all just leave me alone?"

"Ok, ok. We'll stop." Kun raised his hands up. "We won't mention Johnny."

"Thanks, Kun." You smiled.

"Unless..." Kun whispered.

"KUN!"

"Hey guys." A familiar voice interrupted.

You all looked over to see Johnny smiling and waving at the group. You felt a blush rise on your cheeks as you saw him approach you. Why did he have to look so good all the time? He was wearing different clothes than what he wore at school. Decked out in a white t-shirt that hugged his bulging arms and a pair of dark denim jeans, he looked really good. He sported a pair of fashion frames and a bag that was slung over one shoulder. He was dressed down and casual and it made you want to drop to your knees.

What are these thoughts you're having?

You shook your head, snapping yourself from the image of you on your knees sucking Johnny off. You gave yourself a mental slap to stop yourself from looking at his bulge. You quickly made eye contact, hoping he didn't notice you looking. He smiled at you, causing your cheeks to flush again.

"Sorry, I was driving around trying to find a place to park. Traffic is hell around here." Johnny stated.

"Don't worry, you made it. That's all that matters." You answered.

"Hey, Johnny. Thanks for coming." Kun smiled.

"No problem." Johnny smiled, patting Kun on the back.

You watched as he took a seat beside Kun. He smiled at the rest of the group before turning his attention to you. His eyes twinkled with mischief and you didn't like the way it made your stomach flutter. He sat back in his chair and put an arm behind his head. His shirt rode up slightly and you almost died at the sight of the v that was exposed.

God, give you strength.

You're going to make it through this Friday night with everyone without dying at the sight of Johnny Suh.

You can do it. At least you hope you can.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Johnny asks.

"Drinking," Doyoung replied. "A lot."

"Oh boy." Johnny chuckled. "Well, if you guys are drinking a lot, then I better drink a lot too."

"Yeah, that's the idea." Jaehyun laughed.

"I'm glad you decided to come, Johnny," Kun said. "Been awhile since we all got together like this."

"Now that I think about it, I've never hung out with both Johnny and Y/N at the same time," Hendery mutters. "It's usually one or the other."

"Is that so?" Johnny arched his eyebrow and turned toward you. "I didn't realize that."

"There's no big reason as to why. We are both pretty busy. Unlike you slackers, Johnny and I have classes to teach." You stated, jokingly.

"Ooooo, shots fired. She went there." Hendery grinned. "How do you counter attack, Professor Suh?"

"She's not wrong." Johnny smiled.

"Of course, he's going to say that. Y/N, I'm offended. I happen to be a great teacher in my vocal classes." Doyoung started.

"You sure the students aren't there to swoon over your voice? Cause every time I pass you, I hear all those gushes." You grinned.

"The voice of an angel," Johnny added. "His fangirls will always swoon for him. Can you blame him though?"

"See! Even Johnny gets me. I can't help that my voice attracts fangirls. It's not my fault they fall for me. It's a curse that comes with talent." Doyoung dramatically exclaimed.

You rolled your eyes at him and took a sip of your drink. Everyone looked on as Doyoung continued to ramble on. They would interject with small laughs here and there, making the whole atmosphere light.

You ordered a few drinks and chatted with the guys. They were having fun, talking about the students and all the gossip in the faculty room. You couldn't help but laugh at some of the stories. You also enjoyed hearing Johnny talk about his students. He seemed like a great teacher and the way he talked about them with so much passion made you smile.

The conversation soon turned to the joint project. Everyone agreed that it would be a great opportunity for the students and the faculty. There would be a lot of learning and a lot of fun. You were excited about the project. You had a feeling it would be a great success.

The night was getting late and the drinks were starting to take effect. Your cheeks were flushed and you were feeling tipsy. You decided to call it a night. You needed to get some sleep. You said goodbye to the boys and headed home.

On your way out, you passed by Johnny who was waiting outside. He smiled at you and you couldn't help but smile back.

"What are you doing out here?" You ask.

"Waiting for you." He replied. "You can't go home alone. It's dangerous."

"I'll be fine. Besides, I don't live far." You argue.

"Then I'll walk you home." He offered. "I have nothing else better to do anyways."

"You don't have to. I'll be ok." You responded.

"I insist. I'll walk you." Johnny stated, following behind you.

"Okay, fine." You groaned.

You walked side by side down the sidewalk. It was a cool evening and the sky was clear. You couldn't help but admire how handsome he was. He looked even better than usual. You liked how casual he looked. It made him seem less intimidating. You knew it was wrong to think so but he looked absolutely edible in casual clothes.

"You look really nice." You blurted out.

"What?" He laughed.

"I said, you look nice." You repeated.

He looked down at you, a hint of surprise on his face. "Are you drunk or something? I've never heard you say anything nice to me before."

"No, I'm not drunk. I just..." You sighed. "You know what, forget it."

"Hey." He grabbed your arm. "Tell me."

"You look really good in those clothes. They fit you well." You tell him, the words coming out all mushed together.

"Wow." He chuckled. "Who would have thought you would ever give me a compliment."

"Don't make a big deal out of it." You said, quickly.

"Ok, ok." He smiled. "I'll take it."

The walk was a short one and before you knew it, you were standing outside your apartment building.

"Thanks for walking me." You mumbled.

"No problem." He replied.

You stared at him for a moment, wondering if you should ask him inside. You were feeling a little bold and you were sure that you wouldn't regret it. "You want to come inside?"

"For real?" Johnny's eyes widened in shock.

"Yeah. Why not? I think we could use a break from all the work we've been doing lately." You replied, trying to contain the eagerness in your voice.

"Why the hell not." Johnny smiled, stepping closer to you.

You lead the way up to your apartment. When you get inside, you kick off your shoes and throw your keys on the kitchen counter. You turn to look at Johnny who is looking around, taking everything in.

"This is nice." He murmured. "It looks like a great place."

"Thanks. Make yourself at home." You say.

Johnny walked through your living room to the sofa and sat down. You couldn't help but watch him. The way his muscular thighs filled his jeans was mouth-watering.

You head to the kitchen and open up the fridge. "Want a beer?"

"Sure." He nodded.

You grab a couple of beers and walk over to the couch. You hand him a bottle and sit down next to him.

"To the upcoming project." You raise your beer.

"To the upcoming project," Johnny replies, touching your bottle with his.

You clink bottles and take a swig of your beer. You set the bottle down on the table and sigh. "Man, I needed this."

"Yeah, me too." Johnny smiles.

"It's a lot to work out, but I think this project can be successful." You reply.

"It will be. It'll give our students and us a lot of opportunities." Johnny nods in agreement.

"They'll learn a lot and they'll have fun." You add, lifting your beer to your lips. "But mostly, they'll have fun."

"Sounds like my kind of project." Johnny laughs, tipping his head back to swallow some beer.

"I can't wait to hear some of the songs they make." You say the buzz of alcohol makes your head spin.

"Hopefully they aren't too wild." Johnny chuckles.

The two of you chat and finish your beers. You start to feel a buzz and begin to feel a bit braver than usual. You notice that Johnny is feeling the same, as his inhibitions start to lower. "You want another beer?"

"Yes." Johnny nodded. "Absolutely."

"Cool." You reply, grabbing both your empty bottles and getting up. You walk to the kitchen and place the empty bottles in the trash. You grabbed two more beers, then headed back. You hand him a beer and sit down. The conversation turns to music.

"Have you ever written any songs before, Y/N?" Johnny questions, watching your every move.

"I have." You responded. "Back in the day."

"C'mon, give me an example." He laughs.

"Fine." You sigh. "Let me think."

You put down the bottle on the table and think about what song would be the most appropriate. It doesn't take you long to pick a song that you've had stuck in your head for days.

"Ok." You clear your throat. "I've got it."

"Well, go on then." Johnny urged you.

You take a deep breath, gather yourself, and begin singing the first few lines of the song. Your voice is soft and low as the words pour out. Johnny stares at you, his lips slightly parted and his eyes wide.

"Shit..." he breathes out. "I...that was..."

"Yuck." You pout.

"Not at all. That was amazing." He compliments, running his hands through his hair. "Why do you even doubt yourself when you sound this amazing?"

"Come on, Johnny. Be honest. You could tell, I could tell...that didn't sound right." You muttered, suddenly feeling stupid.

"No, it did. It was perfect. Why haven't you shared these with anyone?" Johnny frowns.

"Because I know what it's like to be told your work isn't good enough." You sighed. "Why do you think I went the business route in music? I can't tell you the amount of times I tried and was laughed out of the room. Told I couldn't sing, had no talent."

"Bullshit," Johnny argued.

"Tell me about it." You muttered.

"Anyway," Johnny changed the subject. "We have been drinking for quite a while." He gestured towards the empty beer bottles on your coffee table.

"Are you getting tired already?" You asked with a sly smile.

"I'm not getting tired. Are you tired?" Johnny quipped.

"Me? No." You replied.

"Then, shall we drink some more?" He questioned.

"Sure. If you're up for it." You nod.

"Excellent, let's keep drinking." Johnny smiled, excitedly.

The two of you sat and talked about music. You shared stories of when you were starting out, and how much you struggled in those early days. Johnny told stories of his time in the music industry. He had experienced some great successes and some great failures too.

As the night wore on, the conversation grew more personal. You spoke of your insecurities and fears, your doubts and failures. You both opened up to each other, sharing your innermost thoughts, emotions, and hopes. You realized that despite the years of rivalry and hostility, you were more alike than either of you had realized.

At that moment, something shifted between you.

The air was electric, the tension palpable.

You looked at each other, a silent question hanging between you, waiting to be answered.

You looked at him with a mixture of longing and desire. His eyes burned into yours, an invitation and a challenge, an unspoken dare to take the next step, the next move. The moment hung in the balance, the world slowing to a halt as the weight of the decision pressed down on you, heart hammering, mouth dry, palms sweaty.

"Are we going to do this? The project? You and me?" You asked as your eyes searched his face.

The corner of his mouth tugged up. "Why not? I like a little challenge."

Your eyes moved across his face, trying to gauge the depth of his sincerity, the authenticity of his words. Was he being serious? Or was this just another part of the game?

You weren't sure.

His gaze was intense, the brown eyes beneath the rimmed glasses burning through you. His smile, broad and lopsided, inviting yet mischievous. You swallowed, your heart rate picking up pace.

Did you dare? Were you willing to risk it all for a chance to be with him? A chance to finally lay your heart on the line? To take a gamble and see where it led? Your gaze met his and there was a flash of hunger in his eyes, a spark of desire that made your breath hitch in your throat and your body tremble with need.

Johnny was the sexiest man you'd ever laid eyes on, but more than that, you felt something with him. Something you'd never felt with anyone else.

Johnny leans in.

There was no turning back now.

You lean in and close your eyes, lips grazing his in a kiss. It's gentle, tentative, the beginning of something new, something exciting. The taste of him is intoxicating, and you deepen the kiss, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer.

Johnny pulls back. "Y/N."

"Johnny," you breathe, and your voice is a soft, trembling whisper.

"Y/N, do you like me? Cause I like you, and I'm sick of dancing around each other." He tells you, his gaze unwavering.

"Yes," you manage to say and his lips curve upward.

He leans in again, and you close your eyes, the anticipation nearly making you tremble. His breath is hot against your face, and then his lips are on yours, capturing your mouth in a kiss so tender and sweet, that you sigh in pleasure, sinking into his arms, kissing him back.

"There's no turning back." He says. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you murmur, your fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him down for another kiss.

His lips are soft and warm and they move slowly over yours as his tongue teases at your lower lip. He slides a hand around the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, and pulls you closer as he deepens the kiss, his tongue stroking yours in long, slow strokes. Your blood rushes through your body, heat pools in your core, and you feel weak in the knees.

It feels like a lifetime passes before you finally come up for air.

He rests his forehead against yours, eyes locked on yours, lips parted.

You smile. "So..."

Johnny runs a thumb over your bottom lip and your cheeks flush with heat. "So."

Your heart is pounding against your ribs and you feel like you might pass out.

"Do you want to get dinner with me?" Johnny asks, and the smile on his face is the most beautiful thing you have ever seen.

"I'd like that," you whisper. "I'd like that a lot."

The next few days passed in a blur and now you were sitting in one of the lecture halls with the students.

The joint project was coming together quite nicely and everyone seemed excited about it. You and Johnny were working well together and you could see that everyone was learning a lot. You couldn't help but wonder why the two of you hadn't teamed up like this before.

"Professor," One of the students in your class spoke up. "I'm still surprised that you and Professor Suh are working together on this."

"Yeah, me too." A student agreed. "I didn't think the both of you would join us. I thought you'd just oversee the project like we've done in the past."

"I understand, guys. It is a surprise." You nodded. "But isn't it a good opportunity to see how the professionals do it?"

"It's great." The student beamed. "We are so lucky to have you guys join us. You guys are so awesome!"

"I couldn't agree more." Johnny smiled.

Everyone was impressed by how hardworking you two were. The two of you were so determined to make this joint project a success. You had been working hard and making sure everyone was on track.

It was like this for a few days until one day you and Johnny were in the Music Production room.

Johnny's desk is a mess. It's cluttered with papers and all kinds of different musical instruments. His laptop is in the center of it, with all of the documents and folders that you and Johnny had been working on scattered all over it.

You sit at the piano, going over some songs and working on a few chords when Johnny suddenly comes up behind you and bends over, putting his hands on the piano, his face inches from yours.

"What are you doing?" You ask, turning to look at him. "What if one of the students sees us?"

"We are working on a project, right?" He smirks. "Don't you think that it's important for the students to see their professors getting involved with the project? Besides, I'm keeping it professional during work hours but after hours..."

He leans in closer and you can feel his breath on your face. He stares at you with those beautiful brown eyes, his lips curved in a devilish smile.

"I can't wait until after hours." He whispers. "I can't wait to be alone with you. To finally touch you the way I've been wanting to."

Your breath hitches in your throat as you watch him. You can feel your pulse quicken as his words register in your mind. You stare into his eyes, your heart skipping a beat. That night when you invited him up to your apartment ended with dinner and kisses. That's all it had been since then, a couple of kisses here and there. Nothing else.

You wanted more though. You wanted to feel his skin against yours. To hear him call your name as he moves within you. His words echo in your mind and your core tightens at the thought of being alone with him. Your lips part and you lick your lips as you watch him.

"What are you thinking about, Y/N?" His gaze drops to your lips. "I can read it all over your face. I wonder what else is running through that pretty little head of yours."

"If I tell you what's going through my mind," You whisper, staring into his eyes. "It won't be professional, Johnny."

"Who said I was looking for professional?" Johnny purred, licking his lips.

The words have barely left his lips when the classroom doors open, and a student enters the room.

You and Johnny straighten up.

"Professor." He calls you and greets Johnny.

The rest of the students enter soon.

The class was going along great, as the students were diligently working on the assignment Johnny and you had given to them. The project was a mix of audio-editing and music production. You two would switch back and forth on who gave the lessons since Johnny was a Music Production major and you were in business, but it worked well because you knew about the production side and had an ear for good music. You watched Johnny explaining something to the class, admiring his handsome face, the shape of his full lips, the strength of his jaw, and the muscles of his arms as he gestured to something on the screen. He was wearing his signature plastic black glasses. Those damn glasses.

He noticed you and gave you a flirty wink and a crooked grin, knowing how good he looked and how much he was teasing you.

One of the students asked a question. "What are some things to watch for while mixing tracks for the final project?"

Johnny grinned. "I would be careful to make sure all tracks are at the proper levels."

You rolled your eyes, taking in his words, noting how his mouth formed each word, and how his voice seemed to caress the words as he spoke. You wondered briefly, if that voice held the same tone during other things he did, such as whispering, singing, or...more intimate activities. You cleared your throat, banishing those thoughts for now, forcing yourself to concentrate.

Johnny continued.

"Always use crossfades," he says, "and add panning to make it sound as natural as possible."

The students nod, seemingly impressed.

"Yeah." You nodded. "For a perfect mix, we must pay attention to all of those little things. You won't have time to do that in a club situation, or maybe even at a concert, but for this type of project, and in an acoustically friendly room, you have plenty of time to fine-tune it. What you produce today should sound good in a club, but it shouldn't be flat. Always make adjustments. Pay close attention to things like volume and bass and use equalization to set levels and frequencies, making adjustments until it's at an optimum level."

"Professor Y/L/N, you know a lot about production!" One student exclaimed.

"Hey, I have the same skill set as Professor Suh." You said in amusement. "Music is my passion just the same as his."

Johnny winks at you and says. "Well, that's all the time we have today, class. No classes tomorrow but on Monday, Professor Y/L/N will have a lesson ready for you guys. Have a nice long weekend!"

The students clapped their hands and nodded. You waved at them and told them to have a nice long weekend.

Once the last student was out of the classroom you gave Johnny a big grin, the kind that showed all of your teeth, and he returned it, chuckling and running a hand through his messy dark hair.

"You look exceptionally good today, Professor Suh." You laughed.

"Me? You should see yourself, Professor L/N. If I'm the finest-looking professor here, you are definitely second." He teased, offering you his arm, which you took, looping it through his, laughing as the two of you exited the classroom and began your walk. "So, what are your plans for this weekend?" He asked.

You had to think for a minute as the two of you walked through the campus to your usual meeting place, the university coffee shop, before responding. "Probably nothing...unless I can convince a certain professor that it's finally after hours."

"You know," Johnny began. "I might be convinced if the professor would accompany me to dinner."

You gasped in fake shock and he just winked at you. "Only if said professor brings a good bottle of wine."

"Sounds fair enough," Johnny replied. "Say, tonight around seven, your place?"

You chuckled, giving a little shrug, as the two of you walked into the coffee shop. It was empty aside from the two baristas who had their backs turned, chatting happily as they were stocking the display cases.

"I suppose we have a deal," you agreed, ordering the two of you coffee.

The day passed with meetings and grading tests until the clock showed seven o'clock. Your doorbell buzzed and your stomach did a flip as you pressed the button to allow him access. When he appeared, his knock sounded, and your hands shook slightly as you opened the door.

"Hey," he smiled. "I got a couple bottles of wine...and, something special."

"Something special?" You cocked your head. "You are already enough of a surprise, Johnny."

He lifts the bag with a laugh, taking the two bottles of wine out.

"Oh." You gasp, taking in the other object.

A box of condoms.

"You have a big head if you assume we'll go through all those condoms," you chuckle and hold the door open for him to enter.

"Better to have it and not use it than to need it and have it missing." Johnny places a light kiss on your cheek as he enters.

Dinner is a delicious meal made by Johnny and even though he is the cook, you help him serve. Johnny then fills your glass and settles across the table, waiting for you to sample the dish. Johnny is staring intently at your face when you take your first bite and his gaze turns amused and maybe just a tad smug when a moan slips from your lips.

The food is amazing. As he starts eating his meal, your brain wanders to thoughts of sharing more meals with him. Sitting at this same table eating breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Sharing coffee and toast in the morning. Drinking smoothies in the kitchen while you cook or the two of you preparing the food together, hip to hip as the music is softly playing in the background.

After dinner, the dishes are left in the sink. You will take care of those later.

Instead, Johnny follows you to the couch with the bottle of wine in one hand, and two wine glasses dangling in the other. You settle on the couch and Johnny places the glasses and bottle on the low table in front of the couch. He fills both glasses and offers you one. You thank him and take a sip. The liquid leaves a sweet taste on your tongue and a pleasant warmth in your throat.

You settle yourself into a corner of the couch and he takes the other corner, stretching his long legs out in front of him and sighing, clearly relieved to be off his feet for a while.

"Dinner was delicious." You say softly, a slight blush tinting your cheeks.

"Thank you. I enjoyed cooking it for you." Johnny said, his eyes dancing with joy as you shifted in your seat a bit to take another sip of wine.

You find yourself holding his gaze, staring into his deep brown eyes, so full of life. You set your wine glass down on the table, careful not to spill it, and smile up at him.

"What?" He smiles, putting his wine glass next to yours, and looking at you.

"Nothing." You reach up to cup his cheek, his skin warm, and lean up, brushing your lips against his.

He moves slowly against you, his lips caressing yours and it feels so good. Johnny's hands rest on your shoulders. One slides down to wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. His tongue grazes your lips and you sigh into the kiss, opening your mouth. His tongue slips inside to explore. You allow his tongue to roam your mouth before tangling your own with his.

This time Johnny moans and pulls your lower lip gently with his teeth, eliciting another sigh from you. Slowly, reluctantly, you pull away from him, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He licks his lips and leans forward to give you a soft peck on the lips.

"Do you know how much I love kissing you?" He whispers.

"Yes." You giggle as you remove his glasses, holding them in one of your hands. You toss the spectacles behind you, and it falls on the coffee table. You slide your other hand into his messy hair, pulling his lips back to yours for a few seconds before pulling away.

"Now, we're getting somewhere," he chuckles.

"Mhm, yes." You stare at Johnny, tracing a line on the side of his jaw.

Johnny takes his fingers and places them beneath your chin, lifting your face to meet his. His lips meet yours and he kisses you softly, tenderly. When he breaks the kiss, his fingertips trace the outline of your lips, his brown eyes fixated upon them. His hands move up to cradle the sides of your head and he presses his mouth against yours once again. Your body shudders at the sensations that come flooding over you.

"Johnny..."

"Y/N..."

The whisper of your name causes goosebumps to rise upon the surface of your skin, a small gasp escapes your lips, a quick intake of breath, and a trembling breath follows. He breaks his mouth away, his breath heavy and deep. You run your finger lightly up and down the side of his neck, staring into his eyes. Your other hand slowly moves its way up his back, while the other holds the back of his head. His breathing grows labored as you do so, his lips slightly parting, revealing the faintest trace of a smile.

You begin to realize that there may not be any turning back for you. You may be committing yourself completely, fully, and without hesitation to a relationship with this man. The knowledge scares you but at the same time, the feeling is so right.

"Y/N..." With your name falling from his perfect lips, Johnny captures them again in another kiss, this time placing his tongue between your lips.

The pressure from his mouth is almost too much for you. A moan of satisfaction and desire passes your lips and mingles with the kiss.

Johnny begins to trail wet, feverish kisses down the side of your neck. Now and again he allows his teeth to graze the flesh, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep within your being. His hands reach behind and grasp the zipper to your dress, pulling it down and allowing the garment to fall to the ground in a heap. You reached up and ran your hand under his white shirt and you could feel the heat of his toned stomach, and the contours of his chest. He helped you pull the shirt off over his head and tossed it on top of the pile of clothes that now lay beneath the two of you. Your own hands then began to work their magic, teasing his skin while unbuttoning his jeans.

Johnny then reaches for your bra, and you feel your face get flush when he snaps the hooks on either side and removes the garment. His hands then cup your full, round breasts, causing them to harden at the sensation, and a small whimper comes from your lips.

"Aren't you glad I brought those condoms?" Johnny chuckled.

"We're going to use at least one..." You laugh.

"And all the other rounds? What about then?" Johnny teased.

"Why are we talking when we can be doing other things, Suh?" You push him on the shoulder lightly. "Hmm?"

Johnny grins that wide-teeth-showing smile, and leans in, cupping your face. He leaves a peck on your cheek and moves his lips lower, kissing down your neck and to your shoulder.

"Ah, don't stop now." You close your eyes, leaning your head back, enjoying his lips' dance on your bare skin.

"Are you sure?" Johnny mutters against you, kissing below your collarbone. "Am I going to hear complaints when the students notice bruises on Monday?"

"I'm sure our college students do the same thing as we are doing, Suh," You let out a breathy sigh, pushing him back to sit on the couch before dropping to the floor, settling yourself in the space between Johnny's legs, which spread just for you.

"Not that I want to think of students when you're about to blow me," Johnny chuckles, fingers running through your hair. "I'd rather it be you on my mind."

"Yeah? What else is on your mind?" You ask, reaching to stroke his cock.

"What do you want me to say?" He purrs and his hand fists your hair.

You don't answer, instead, you trace the swollen, red head of his cock with your tongue before wrapping your lips around him, feeling how his hips move, trying to thrust deeper inside you. Your hands squeeze his thick thighs, urging him silently on and when you swirl your tongue along the head he gasps.

"What else?" Your voice is just a little above a whisper, teasing him by speaking while his length sits heavy on your tongue.

"How I've been wanting you? Fuck." Johnny groans when your head starts to bob.

You work his dick thoroughly, fondle his heavy balls, humming around the full length of his shaft while keeping steady eye contact.

"Shit." Johnny curses under his breath, closing his eyes, hand in your hair gripping a handful of it tightly and making a slight sound in the back of his throat.

He shivers, and you hear him hissing, and soon enough you feel your pussy clenching around nothing and juices leaking on the rug under you as you're not wearing your underwear and a small mewl comes out of you.

You then pull him closer against your face, taking him fully.

"Oh shit, that's good." He rasps.

You reach forward to rub his thigh, tracing the muscles that clench now and again beneath his warm, smooth skin. Johnny is a handsome specimen of a man. And he tastes and smells even better.

With another jerk of your mouth, you feel Johnny's fingers twist within your hair, causing your eyes to flicker shut. His body quivers as he lets out a low groan, his mouth open wide and the corners upturned slightly. You suck harder, bobbing your head quickly. Johnny moans, pushing your head further down onto his throbbing cock, trying his hardest not to be overly rough, or to release before he needs to.

"Baby, can I cum on your pretty face?" He mutters, using a gentle grip to pull your head upwards, looking deep into your lust-filled eyes.

Your jaw hurts, you're gasping, and you pull his cock free from your mouth with a wet sound. "Please."

"So good, baby girl. You look so good right now." Johnny grins as he looks down at you, his hand going to pump his shaft. He licks his lips, feeling that familiar heat coil in his abdomen. He jerks himself faster, looking you in the eyes, watching the way they seem to beg him.

"I've wanted to see those lips of yours covered in my cum since I first met you." Johnny grits out, pumping his shaft harder and faster. "Want to see that cum dripping from that pretty chin of yours, hear your moans as you clean every drop up."

His words and his actions leave you desperate, so horny, and so, so needy.

"Fuck, baby, you're such a dirty, dirty girl," Johnny grunts, his balls tightening as he aims his cock toward your awaiting face. His orgasm washes over him in an instant. "Open up, I'm gonna give you what you're after, baby."

He shoots ropes of his load onto your face, hitting your nose, lips, and chin.

"Such a sexy little mess." Johnny rasped as he wiped the last of his cum across your chin with his thumb, rubbing it along your lips. "Swallow that up, dirty girl."

"Yummy," you said, swallowing the whole load, and licking his thumb.

His hand lowers, tracing down the length of your neck to rest upon your collarbone, his index finger hooking underneath to gently pull you toward him. "Won't you have more?" he purrs, his hand cupping your breast.

You place his fingers into your mouth, wrapping your lips around them, moaning as you suck gently, allowing them to graze the inside of your cheek. His smile turned seductive, his thumb dragging across his lips as you began to move, pushing yourself back toward the middle of the couch. You lean down toward his cock once more, licking, nipping, nibbling, and sucking on it, becoming lost in his moans and grunts.

"Just like that baby," Johnny purrs, running his hand through your hair. "Show me what a slut you can be."

Your hands move up and down the length of his shaft, and he lets out another loud gasp, throwing his head back against the cushions, his hands threading their way through your locks of hair. "F-fuck. Baby, you're s-so damn good. I need to f-feel you wrapped around me. Now."

You tilt your head and give him a devilish grin, crawling up his body, kissing him until you straddle his waist. You reached for the box of condoms and ripped the package open. Reaching for his cock once more, he groans loudly as you hold him firmly, stroking the entire length of him while continuing to kiss him. Once the condom was on, you reached behind yourself and grabbed Johnny's thick cock, and aimed it toward the opening of your pussy, lowering yourself onto him with a pleasured cry.

"God. Fuck, you feel amazing, Johnny." You sigh contentedly, slowly beginning to move up and down his solid erection. You plant your hands firmly upon his chest for support, your body grinding against him, setting your tempo and pace. His large hands, in return, wrapped around your back and gripped your sides as his hips began to buck with you, his groin moving upward, matching your tempo, driving his cock as deeply inside of you as he could.

"You really like it like this, baby? Good and hard?" Johnny grunted, as your bodies slammed together over and over again, the sounds of loud moaning and skin-on-skin contact filling the room.

"Fuck, yes." You cry, grinding your hips, tightening your pelvic muscles. Johnny growls as his hands travel to your ass, giving it a nice squeeze, guiding your movements against him.

"This is the most intense, sexual encounter I've ever had, and it's with a music professor," you pant, picking up speed. One of Johnny's hands tightens its grip, then slides up and down your thighs as he holds you in his lap. You reach up, entwining your fingers with his other hand, which rests atop your breast.

He guides your arm behind his neck, pulling you in. "Well my fellow music professor," Johnny said, looking deep into your eyes as you bounced up and down in his lap. He presses his mouth close to your ear and whispers, "...I could tell the same about you too," before bringing his lips back to yours.

"Have we become more than rivals?" You sigh when your lips separate.

"Yeah."

You never thought in a million years you'd hook up with one of your co-workers. Never thought in a million years you'd hook up with a music professor like Johnny.

But yet, here you were.

As you walked through campus a few days later, you spotted Johnny heading towards the parking lot with some music equipment under his arms.

As usual, students flocked around him with smiles and hellos, not letting him out of their sight.

After you had successfully dealt with the students, who had gathered around and asked the inevitable question of: 'Are the two of you dating?' The topic of the question wasn't new to you, it seemed that students had come up with such an idea even before you had ever done anything together. Their questions were answered when Johnny placed the equipment down before leaning in to press a light, lingering kiss to your lips.

The students' eyes went wide in surprise. One of the guys whistled, and another wolf whistled. A group of girls were whispering furiously about how hot you two look, another saying that it took you long enough to go out with each other, the rest not believing the fact that you're kissing each other in front of everyone.

"Yeah, yeah. Your two favorite hot music professors are dating now. Get used to the idea, and move along." You laughed along with the students. Once they all disbursed, Johnny leaned in once again, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and you felt your stomach flutter with butterflies when he pecked you on the lips.

"Happy now? Happy now?" You mutter against his lips. "Now the whole school is going to know we're together. I can hear the rest of the faculty members already, yapping their mouths off about it."

He rested his forehead on yours and let out a short laugh. "Hah! Like they could ruin this perfect moment." He rubbed his nose against yours playfully.

"They could try!" You giggled, pressing another quick kiss against his soft lips, then whispered, "Your place?"

He simply smirked, putting his equipment in the car. "After you."

His apartment was, dare you say it, perfect. The furniture was minimal, though there was a lot of electronics scattered around, probably expensive recording equipment. He had an incredible vinyl collection and a whole wall full of CDs and records. Everything about the place smelled and looked like Johnny; classy, expensive, cool.

"Wow, Johnny. How'd you ever find the perfect mix between elegance and laziness in apartment designing?"

"I'm just naturally awesome." He grinned, shutting and locking the door to the house. "Anyway," he set the instruments down by the door and made his way toward you, smirking devilishly. "How about you show me what kind of sounds you're into making first."

You felt his hand on your lower back, guiding you gently to his couch as he removed his coat, leaving the garment discarded in a pile on the floor. His hands slid around your hips, drawing you close to him, your bodies flush together. "Let me hear the pretty music you'll make just for me." He purred.

"As much as I would love to make music on your couch...I wonder how it will sound in your bed, Johnny." You gave him a smirk of your own as you caressed his cheeks with both hands.

"Good. Great even." He bent down to capture your lips in his as his arms slid under your thighs, lifting you easily. He carried you into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. Gently lying you down, you watched him peel off his shirt.

He's attractive in school clothes, you have to admit, but he's really gorgeous out of those clothes.

You knew your mouth was gaping slightly from looking at his abs and chest, and Johnny only smiled wider, removing the remainder of his clothing. You admired the definition of his ass as you felt yourself getting wet with anticipation, eager to feel him against you.

With one swift movement, he was hovering above you, lips on your neck as his hands roamed over your body. His fingers make quick work of the buttons of your blouse, moving downward until he reaches the button and zipper on your skirt. Soon, those were gone, and you were left with only a thin strip of material covering your modesty.

You bite your lip, unable to resist a whimper at the feeling of his breath against your bare skin, followed by the warm touch of his tongue. "Johnny."

A grin appeared, his teeth scraping lightly before his lips trailed back up your throat, nipping gently at your chin as he shifted. Johnny pulls you against his naked body, his lips trailing along your collarbone and stopping at your ear to suckle on the flesh, teasing it with his teeth. "That feels nice, but I want your mouth somewhere else." You giggle, sliding your panties off your legs.

"Eager, are we, my sexy professor?" He smirked.

You prop yourself up, arms on the pillow under your head, and watch Johnny shift, kissing the side of your left knee before he moves down, planting soft, tender pecks along the inside of your thigh. The closer he got, the slower he moved. Every touch felt electrified, making you writhe beneath him as his eyes remained focused on the glistening center between your thighs.

When his tongue finally grazed your swollen, slick clit, you had to bite your lip hard. It took nearly everything inside you to keep from screaming. Your eyes widened, and a low, soft moan escaped from your mouth.

"Ah, I see. You like that." Johnny murmured, moving his hand, his lips gliding across your thigh until he found your need once more, kissing you long and slow.

Your arms tensed at your sides, balling into fists as you pulled at the sheet below you. Everything he does leaves your mind blank, causing all sorts of new sensations. A shudder ran through you, a gasp, and his name escaped your parted lips, making his touch linger.

"The pretty noises coming from your lips are like music to my ears." He smiles wickedly. "Music I would love to produce."

Johnny looks up, eyes meeting your gaze as he buries his face between your thighs, flicking his tongue back and forth quickly over your clit. He loves how you writhe beneath him. The sight and taste of you.

"Shit, Johnny." You moaned a little louder this time as your knees went weak at his touch, fingers curling tighter in the bedsheet.

"How do you want it?" His voice vibrating into you makes you arch your back.

You wrap one leg around his shoulder, bucking your hips, silently pleading for more. He wastes no time, picking up the pace of his ministrations, humming with each pass of his tongue. The sensation is overwhelming, and the world around you spins, making you cling desperately to the bedding, holding onto it as if your life depended on it.

The sounds coming out of your mouth become louder and louder, mixing with his humming and moans as his fingers join in the action. He works diligently at bringing your release, listening to the pleasured whimpers coming from you, and you won't last much longer before you're spasming, muscles tensing up in the euphoria, eyes rolling back as he continues licking and kissing.

When you finally collapse into the bed, your body shaking, a hand runs up your leg, and Johnny is crawling over you, pressing his lips to yours. He kisses your jaw, your cheeks, your nose, and your forehead, pecking your lips every so often.

"There's my pretty professor, so responsive. So beautiful." He whispers into your hair, hands still massaging your thigh. He reached over to his nightstand where a condom sat ready. Tearing the foil packet and rolling it down over his length, Johnny brushed the back of his fingers gently across the expanse of your inner thigh and settled them along your heat, rubbing you a few more times before shifting forward until the head of his length was resting right against your entrance.

Johnny had leaned forward and was now licking up the length of your neck before taking the skin between his teeth and giving it a harsh nibble. "Can't wait to feel you wrapped around me."

You squirm and twist, letting his tongue snake its way into your mouth again as he gives your bottom lip another tug. Slowly, his tip began to push into you and it wasn't long before the entirety of his length was nestled snugly inside you, filling you to the hilt.

"Damn, baby," Johnny growled into your ear, as he rocked his hips forward to further bury himself inside. "How am I going to control myself with you gripping me like this? So tight."

For a second, you two lock eyes and stare into each other's soul. Then, without warning, Johnny pulls his hips back and thrusts forward roughly, groaning into your ear at the motion. With the slowest, most deliberate rhythm, he pushes himself deep inside before pulling almost entirely back, the both of you grunting loudly from the pleasure that is running up your body in shivers, eyes scrunched tightly closed as he slowly, agonizingly begins to speed up.

"Fuck," Johnny groaned out, thrusting quicker now. Your ass was bouncing wildly on the bed, as you squeezed his waist with your thighs, wrapping your calves around his lower back.

His hips rolled fluidly as he drilled into you, burying himself as deep as your body would let him. Your screams became louder, echoing off of the walls in Johnny's room. Johnny grunted in satisfaction and gripped your breast in one hand as your back arched upwards, your mind spinning.

"Damn, baby. That's it. Take my cock deep inside that sweet cunt. Take it deep. Deeper. Deeper."

In an instant, Johnny is pulling his cock out of you, flipping your body so that you're belly-down against the soft mattress of his bed. His fingertips grip you tightly, almost roughly as he grabs your hips and thrusts into you again. He picked up where he left off, filling you completely once again before he pulled back and then shoved forward once more. His thick member slips further than you thought were possible, pushing roughly through your walls as they expand around him, allowing him to press harder against the perfect spot.

You gripped the sheets tightly once again, burying your face in his comforter as you began to feel your legs shake. A loud moan resonates throughout your body and travels out your throat. Johnny can't help but release a satisfied groan himself, leaning forward to place sloppy kisses and licks up your spine and to the back of your neck.

"Johnny...it feels so fucking good," you whined softly into the sheets.

"Shit... I know," he replies, sounding strained himself.

It doesn't take long for the pressure to build.

Panting and grunting, you both grew nearer and nearer. The tension inside you began to rise with each thrust. Your legs were already shaking in anticipation.

Your mouth opens as you let out a strangled, satisfied scream of, "FUCK," as the euphoric explosion of sensations starts to flood over you. Johnny groans loudly into the crook of your neck, his arms squeezing you close as he shouts, too, hips bucking desperately as he reaches his climax along with you.

Breaths come out labored.

Johnny pulled himself out slowly, careful not to make a mess. With shaking arms, he pushes himself up, tossing the used condom before plopping down beside you, arm wrapping around your middle.

He pulled you into his chest, cuddling you.

After the orgasm faded, his hand rested gently atop the curve of your hip as he rubbed his thumb gently over your skin, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

He hummed a soft melody against your skin and it made your chest hum pleasantly with adoration. You ran your fingers softly down his cheek.

"Hi."

"Hi. You doing okay?"

You turn, draping your leg over his body, and curl closer into his warm, soft embrace. You gently run your finger along his jawline and then caress his lower lip. His dark eyes focus on you with loving admiration and warmth.

"Mm, perfect," you smile.

He smiles back, leaning in and places his lips tenderly against yours, then closes the distance, kissing you again, and again.

Your rival has become so much more than that.

More than a co-worker.

You fell asleep cuddled in the arms of your new music partner and love.

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #nct #nct 127 #nct stories #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct smut #johnny #nct johnny #johnny suh #johnny seo #johnny x reader #johnny smut

284 notes · View notes

tasteracha · 1 year

Text

professor bang

word count: 2.3k

warnings: unprotected sex, power imbalance (grad student x professor), multiple orgasms, chan calling the reader pet/good girl

synopsis: you laid out a perfectly crafted trap to seduce the hot professor - too bad he’s one step ahead of you.

the midday air is unsuspecting as you walk down the creaky hallway, floorboards of the psychology building groaning under your feet. the nerves are close to eating you up whole but you continue walking, too far into your plan to turn back now - you know what you want, and you’re going to get it. no one turns an eye as you walk past open doors, the hem of your dress swishing around your knees. they’re accustomed to seeing you here, being a graduate student in the department means you spend more time here than you do in your own apartment.

you stop at one door in a series of identical ones, only told apart by a worn out plaque listing a room number and a shinier, newer one reading “christopher bang, ph.d.” underneath it.

the door is cracked just a bit, enough for you to peer inside and there he is, standing in front of his desk, wearing a crisp white shirt under a grayish-blue blazer. his pants are too tight to be suitable for a professor, and they cling to his thighs and stretch across his ass perfectly, making you pause in the doorway with a hungry stare that lasts for too many seconds.

when you look up you meet his eyes and it makes you jump; you didn’t know that he knew you were there. this doesn’t fit in the plan.

the plan you cooked up when he got a little too cozy with you during the department holiday party last semester. the plan you’ve been making and scrapping and working yourself up to execute, avoiding him at every corner so that he wouldn’t know. you were supposed to surprise him, walk in pretending like you needed help with some assignment, getting closer and closer to him until your breaths were intermingling and then you’d look into his eyes and he would glance at your lips and-

and now he’s caught you checking him out like some kind of creep.

“oh, hi y/n,” he says, eyes turning crinkly as he looks at you with a shit-eating grin. fuck.

now that you’ve been found out, you slide inside the gap in the door, shutting it closed behind you and letting the lock click behind your back. if he notices, he doesn’t react, steady eyes trained on you as your feet take you closer and closer to his desk.

“hi professor bang,” you say, surprised by how clear your voice comes out. that’s good, you wouldn’t want him to know how nervous you are just yet, it would add to his smugness and you didn’t know if you could handle his ego being even bigger than it is right now.

“what can i do for you?” he says, crossing his arms and leaning against the desk. the blazer stretches over his shoulders and the material does nothing to hide his biceps and your mouth waters. he quirks an eyebrow at you when you don’t speak for a moment, and you have to clear your throat before any sound comes out.

“i needed some help with a research project,” you say, moving close enough to him that if anyone were to walk in they would absolutely report the both of you for some kind of ethical violation. good thing you locked the door, then. “i was hoping you could be of service.”

“oh?” he leans further back into the desk, fully relaxed in a way you wish you were. “what kind of project?”

“well, it has to do with human connection,” you trail a finger across the collar of his blazer, further down until it catches on a button, in a show of false confidence. “i was looking to maybe get some hands-on experience? for research, of course.”

you feel a swell of victory when his breath catches in his throat and his arms loosen from where they were crossed to drop at his side.

“well i certainly am the expert in that domain,” he drawls, eyes flickering down to your lips and back up. “i did write my dissertation on it, after all.”

it’s a lie - you’ve read his dissertation, full of information about cognitive theory and eye movements and other things that honestly went way over your head. not a single mention of human connection was in that document, but the fact that he’s so readily playing along with you means that you didn’t misread anything. either he wants you, or he enjoys toying with you; either way, you were on board.

even more so when he takes his blazer off, throwing it off to the side like it didn’t cost him an aggressive amount of money to buy. you’ve seen the designer labels on him plenty of times enough to know he likes to treat himself to nice things.

you’re hoping you can be his next nice thing, the next possession that he flaunts and parades around.

you lean in for a kiss, but he surprises you and flips the both of you around until you’re backed up into the desk. he’s leaning over you, dark eyes looking down at you like you’re his prey.

“let’s even the playing field a bit, shall we?” his voice has gone down, low and sultry, and you feel your head loll back from how it makes you feel. he makes quick work of removing your dress, letting the material pool to the floor so he could focus on your bra. it’s your favorite one, lacey and red and sexy, the material leaving nothing to the imagination. he takes a second to admire it, fingering at the strap around your shoulder and sliding his thumb into the cup before he reaches behind you and unhooks it in one try. it joins his blazer and your dress on the floor a moment later, and you’re left feeling exposed in front of him.

“how is this even?” you ask, resisting the urge to cover yourself with your hands. “you’re still wearing all of your clothes.”

“well, sweetheart,” he starts, moving impossibly closer to you. “we’re in my office. that means i get to decide the rules, no?”

he swipes an arm across the table behind you before you can answer. papers flutter in the air, and he’s hiking you up onto the desk before they reach the ground. his hands are under your thighs, spreading them apart so he can fit between them. one of his hands snakes into the band of your underwear, your sensitive skin erupting in goosebumps from his touch.

“so wet,” he says, a smirk painting his face as his fingers part your folds to make slow circles around your clit. it shouldn’t be enough to send shivers up your spine, but it’s him, so it does.

“for you,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes. the amused glint in his eyes turns sharp, dark and possessive. just what you wanted.

“this is mine?” he asks, cupping you in his hand while his other reaches around the small of your back to hold you close to him.

“yours,” you hum, nodding even though his attention certainly wasn’t on your head.

he dips his fingers inside of you, gliding easily inside from how his fingers are coated with your juices. when he crooks his fingers and thumbs at your clit your head tips back, and you might have lost your balance if he wasn’t holding you so close that you could feel his breath on your skin.

it’s on your third time stumbling over the word professor that he leans into your ear and tells you to call him chris, his lips kissing your ear as he works you to your high. you’re shaking apart on his desk and yet he doesn’t relent, he continues to move his fingers with fervor until you can’t help but push at his chest to get him to stop.

“chris,” you stutter out when he latches his lips to your neck, open mouthed and hot as his fingers move to grab at your thighs. his hands are so big, veins bulging as he digs his fingers in. you hope there are bruises there, tomorrow. and the next day.

“gonna fuck you now, okay?” he says, voice husky. “for research.”

“yeah, research,” you breath out, using both your hands to cradle his face so that you could kiss him, finally. his lips are as soft as you imagined, plushy pillows that you could find yourself lost in for hours. he keeps his lips on yours as he moves your underwear down and off, helping you balance so he could slide it under your thighs until you’re bare in front of him. you’re unbuttoning his shirt with shaky fingers, and he chuckles against you when you can’t get one of them open.

“funny?” you break away from him, eyes trained on the way his lips are red and slick with spit.

“you’re cute,” condescension lines his voice and a spark of anger runs through you at how he knows he has the upper hand. he gently takes your hands away from his clothes and makes quick work of them himself. in what feels like a split second, he’s stripped of his shirt and pants and he’s pulling down his boxers, revealing smooth planes of muscle and strong thighs and bulging arms that you’ve fantasized about for months. you don’t know if you want to cover them in bites or let him crush you with them more - there will be time for that, the next time.

you know there’s going to be a next time if it’s already this good and he’s barely even done anything to you yet.

he spreads your thighs apart further, and you don’t miss how he licks his lips at the view of your dripping cunt in front of him before he lines himself up at your entrance. you barely got a glimpse of his cock, but your mouth waters at the idea of it being inside of you. he glides his cock through your folds a few time, slicking himself up before pressing his head inside of you.

when he bottoms out you can’t help but tighten your walls around him, helpless to the desires of your own body, and the groan he lets out makes you clench down even harder.

“relax, pet,” he says, panting a bit. his thumb strokes at the sensitive flesh of your inner thigh. “i’m going to take good care of you okay? but you need to relax for me.”

he leans down to kiss you again, and it must be a good enough distraction because he begins moving in time with the swipes of his tongue on your teeth. every time he rocks into you the air punches out of your lungs, you’re so full. he moves his face to the crook of your neck to hide his own labored breaths when he increases his pace, thrusting into you faster than you can keep up with.

he’s pressing you into the desk with each movement of his hips, the sharp corner against your legs sending pricks of pain up to your head. the game is over, the research bit is done, now it’s just chris taking what he wants from you. you love it. his arms wrap around you, keeping you upright, and you latch onto him like a lifeline. you’re completely at his mercy, entirely submissive to the way he’s keeping you still so he can use you.

you can tell he’s close when he pushes his head even further into your skin, fingers gripping your back and his movements becoming sharp and purposeful. he spills into you a second later with a bite to your neck, and you can’t help yourself from following him as your head tips back in pleasure.

when he pulls out you wince, the emptiness that he’s left you with feeling worse than you’ve ever felt with anyone else. he lowers you onto the desk slowly, letting your head rest on his mousepad as he runs his hands up and down your sides in comforting sweeps. you’re utterly spent, two orgasms hitting your limit, even more intense coming from him.

“one more,” he drawls out, not showing compassion at all for the way you’re panting and drooling onto his desk. “you can do one more for me, can’t you?”

“no, no, no,” your voice comes out thready and light, barely a sound. his hand returns to your core either way, slow circles of his fingers around your clit making your body twitch with each pass. the oversensitivity is too much, but you’re too weak to pull away from him. you don’t even know if you want to, anymore.

“there’s my good girl,” he grins when you whine and rut down onto his hand. you didn’t know it was possible, but the coils in your lower belly start to tighten faster than before. you’re coming before you even realize it’s happening, pleasure seeping from your core to your fingertips, an all encompassing sensation that you can’t put words to. it lasts for what feels like forever, waves and waves of ecstasy rocking through your body until your vision blacks out for a moment.

“you did so good,” he finally stops and you press your legs together to stop him from returning. he’s pressing kisses to your body, your thighs and your stomach up to your neck and cheeks as he mumbles praises into your skin. his hand runs through your hair, pushing the sweaty locks that were stuck to your forehead out of the way so he could press a final, sweet kiss to your forehead. “so good for me. so pretty, my precious pet.”

and even as he takes care of you, cleans you up and helps you back into your clothes and feeds you water, you’re holding back a smirk. because he thinks he has the upper hand, he thinks he won, but you can guarantee that he’ll be knocking at your door before the week is over.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids drabbles #bang chan smut #bang chan imagines #bang chan x female reader #chan x reader

3K notes · View notes

drunk-fantasies · 1 year

Text

+18 CONTENT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

🎨PAIRING: friend!sunghoon x fem!reader

🎨SYNOPSIS: posing for your best friend’s painting’s wasn’t something new for you or him until you asked if he could paint you naked

🎨GENRE: smut, fluff

🎨WARNINGS: explicit smut, both sunghoon and yn are kinda a perv, masturbation, oral (both receiving), fingering, handjob, marking, mild swearing, piv, protected sex

🎨WORD COUNT: 5,8k

🎨TAGLIST: @novacontreras, @beomgyusonlywife, @satan-223, @enhaz1, @tobiosbbyghorl, @kshoshi, @woniewonn, @mimizelle-luni, @meiskra, @leeheeheeseung, @parksunghoonsgf, @uuzhanggggggg, @deobitifull, @enhamysunshines, @sunghourly, @danielleismyname, @starggukies, @hellaboredd, @rapmonie2047, @asyleums, @stariszn, @tinkw1nks, @4imhry, @moonlighthoon, @girlwholovekpop, @19-yunalyn

There was something about you people found extraordinary. It could be your mesmerizing eyes, remarkable facial features or just that intense gaze that made many knees bend. Though you never really particularly enjoyed the attention you were getting, yet something was thrilling about intimidating people by just the way you looked at them. It gave you a sense of power, a feeling of being unstoppable wherever you went.

What you did enjoy though was how many students of the Art Department asked you to model for their paintings, offering you irrational money, just for you to stand in one place for a few hours. Those offers were always pretty tempting, but none were enough for you to agree. After a few chances you had given them you realized none of them were able to portray you good enough. Unlike Sunghoon, your best friend. Ever since you met him on the first day of uni, you couldn’t refuse anything he wanted. His paintings were terrific. His style, the way his brush strokes danced on canvas, not to mention he was able to capture your features in such a captivating way, just as good as your mirror could or maybe even better. The unspoken truth was, you wished so badly he looked at you like you looked at him. His gaze was always focused to paint you well, to mirror every strand of your hair perfectly just as every crinkle on your clothes. While you always stared at him with admiration and passion, under false colors of modeling. But when it came to him, nothing was an act. Your feelings burned inside you, fire spreading from your heart to every part of your body, whenever he scanned your face and position to guide you how to pose. He never failed to keep it professional, never touching you inappropriately or making you uncomfortable. And the way he was such a soft-spoken person made it even harder for you to not catch feelings. In contrast to initial shyness you noticed how kind his heart was. Despite his cold look and complete composure you were able to get to know his playful side, which outside of the Art Department’s studio continuously put a smile on your face, even during those hard days. Both of you were rather busy with their respective assignments and uni work, making it pretty impossible to meet regularly. But it only made you wait for the next time he would ask you to model for him even more eagerly.

Your phone buzzed with a notification. Finishing the last sentence of your essay you took your phone from your pocket and read a message from Sunghoon.

🤍: do you think you could be here a little earlier? i need to get something done and need to finish it by 7

you: no problem :) give me like ten minutes

You knew the way to the studio he always used to the point you could get there with your eyes closed. The excitement of seeing him again rushed through your body and you wondered how this recent work turned out. He never let you see the final product until he would be finished with it completely, to the last spot. You entered the studio not bothering to knock anymore and spotted Sunghoon preparing all the utensils he needed, apron already wrapped around his body while the sleeves of his white shirt were rolled up to his elbows. Not daring to say a word you watched him while he was too busy mixing paints to notice you. His black hair got a little longer, now almost falling on his shoulders, while he neatly picked the right colors.

“Y/n?” His voice brought you back to Earth. “Glad to see you. Your clothes are on the couch,” he smiled warmly and pointed to clothes you wore for this work.

Without a word you took them to get changed and couldn’t stop thinking about how it turned out. Last time he told you there was nothing much left, just some details of your neck area and some touch-up of your hair. That’s why with anticipation you waited to see the final result. You tried to recreate the hairstyle you had as precisely as you could in a reflection of a small bathroom mirror. When you came back to the studio he was fully ready to start.

“Ready?” he asked and raised from his stool.

Nodding you let him guide your pose in front of his easel. His fingers slightly raised your head by your chin and positioned your head as he pleased. Taking an alone strand of your hair, he curled it on his finger, imitating the shape from the last session. Fixing your shirt he took as step back to check and said: “Okay, you look perfect, it won’t take long.”

Two thoughts couldn’t leave your mind now: “Did he know what effect his words had on you?” and “Will he also capture the blush his compliment created?” It wasn’t hard to keep the pose he wanted you to remain as all your muscles tensed at his gaze and touch. Taking looks at you from time to time his hand created wonders on the canvas, just like always. Everything he painted looked even more beautiful than in reality. The most obscure sceneries or hideous faces were turned into the most fascinating and beautiful ones.

“Have you ever posed?” you asked suddenly, breaking the silence that surrounded you.

He never had anything against talking during your sessions, unless the conversations lasted for too long or were too engaging. For some unknown reason, this question almost made him drop his brush.

“What?” He chuckled and spoke after you repeated yourself. “I feel better on this side of the easel,” he said now more calmly.

How you wished he ever accepted anybody’s offer to portray him. Or for him to at least paint his self-portrait. Just like many asked you to model, he got this request quite as often. His features were delicate but still in a manly way. You adored looking at him just like he adored painting you, but none of you had the guts to ever admit to that, leaving many missing opportunities.

As much as you wanted to tell him how beautiful he truly is, your throat didn’t let the words out of your mind. You spent the rest of this session quiet, not daring to say anything else.

“Okay, I’m done,” he announced and you raised your eyes from the palette he held in his left hand. “Do you wanna see?”

“Can’t believe you’re still asking that question,” you said with a beam.

Taking his apron off, he stepped back and you admired yet another piece he created. Every was different and better in its own way, but this one was something else, capturing your features exhaustively.

“What do you think?” His voice was quiet, almost in a murmur that tickled your ear.

“It’s… beautiful. Can’t believe you could become any better, but you never fail to prove me otherwise.” He smiled at your compliment and stared at the fully covered portrait.

“I think it could use one more strand,” he suddenly said and held a brush in front of you.

Staring at it and then at him you took a step back in shock. “Have you lost your mind? I’m not a painter, I’m gonna ruin your work!”

“You’re not gonna ruin anything,” Sunghoon grinned.

He placed the brush in your hand, and held it gently yet firmly in his, while his other arm wrapped around your waist to bring you closer. Your mind went blank at sudden close proximity. You’ve never touched each other, apart from him when he guided you. And here you were, back pressed against his chest, feeling his breath hit your back while your palm was placed in his. With fully relaxed motion he painted a wavy lock just above your left cheek, enhancing your cheekbones.

“Now it’s perfect, don’t you think?” The nonchalant tone of his voice drove you crazy. Things you would let him do stood nowhere near his detachment.

“Yeah,” you managed to breath out at the loss of skin to skin contact with him.

“Thank you once more. Are you sure there’s no way I could repay you with?”

He always asked that question. And you always said you couldn’t take anything from him with a clear conscience, even though there was something in your mind he could do.

“I think I know,” you said before thinking about it.

“Oh? I’m listening then,” he was shocked at first but also eager to return a favor you’ve been giving him for a long time now.

Hesitating you finally said: “Paint me.” Your words made him frown and chuckle, but before he could argue you continued. “And I want to keep it. I want it for myself.”

Not sure if he will agree to this, you waited for his response.

“Okay, I will paint you. Can you come over to my place this weekend? I have all the stuff needed and it’s closer to your place than uni,” he suggested and you nodded, confirming the date and hour. “Okay then. I’ll see you on Saturday.”

You left him alone in the studio and he stared at the canvas for a while, wishing he could convey both your beauty and his feelings for you at least a little better.

Days passed and you seemed to not be able to think about anything else, Sunghoon occupying your mind for whole days. Mainly thoughts of his gentle touch on your waist and hand were replaying in your head. It drove you crazy, the way he had an affect on you, probably bereaved in obliviousness.

But you weren’t the only one going crazy at the moment. He tried to focus on his other paintings but his mind was full of you. His feelings for you were already deep and passionate, but the moment he felt your body that close to his, and how it perfectly fitted his number one priority was to make you satisfied with whatever painting you wanted.

But was that stupid portrait the only thing he wanted to satisfy you with?

Whenever you showed you how to pose he had to compose himself and his filthy thoughts of what he truly wanted to do with you at that moment. He wanted to bring you pleasure nobody would ever do, show you his feelings, his passion you ignited in him. But at the back of his head, he knew his dirty fantasies about you would only stay as fantasies. Because in no world a girl like you would spare a look at a guy like him. At least that’s what Sunghoon thought.

Frustrated at his loss of focus he untied his apron and threw it on the ground with a light thud. He looked at the canvas he tried to fill in with his ideas, but all the faces he tried to paint were yours. Every page in his sketchbook was dedicated to you. Even in his phone he had a seperate album of photos from your sessions, that he took under false pretenses to have a good reference. But his absolute favorite one was the one from the only time when you wore a dress. A tight one, to be precise. He didn’t choose it, all he said was for you to pick an outfit yourself and he regretted that decision almost as soon as you stepped into the studio. It was a tight black dress that showed all your curves off. It hugged your body so perfectly all he wanted was to tear it off it, to see it bare, with his own pair of eyes. But that fantasy remained as one, as he tried his best to stay calm and not let you know of the boner you caused. Keeping it professional he tried not to be obvious with his stare, only looking at your body when he really had to.

He watched that photo with a mind full of memories from that day, that were still alive and fresh, even though quite a long time passed already. Sighing he laid on his bed and helplessly reached to his pants where his dick was already hard like a rock. He pumped himself few times, now basically fucking his hand, while trying not to think about how beautiful you would look with your plump lips or feminine hand wrapped around it.

You on the other hand weren’t very different from him. Dirty thoughts and unfulfilled desires flooded your mind mercilessly. Fantasies of him were no longer satisfying, leaving you hungry for him and his body. Your fingers were deep inside you as you tried to imagine it was him pleasuring you, murmuring sweet and dirty things straight into your ear. But it was all your imagination, he wasn’t here to please you, and all he wanted was to repay you, nothing more. Of all the people, why did it have to be him that seemed to be completely uninterested in you? While all you could think about was to give him yourself, give him your body, let him use it as he wanted. Did he not see how crazy you are about him? Is he testing you?

Is he testing you?

The thought repeated in your head. You stopped pleasuring yourself at the confusion about that one sentence. Maybe he was, but how about now testing him?

You thought for a long time about how to test him and his true feelings for you, but nothing seemed to be rational. You knew that your Saturday’s session would be a great opportunity but how to use it for your own good? You already tried posing in a tight and seductive dress, yet it completely left him unfazed, sparing you only a few glances while taking care of the canvas. It truly broke your heart, the thought of him being completely unattracted to you while you would go on your knees for him.

One last thing you could do was a completely crazy idea you had already thought about, but at the same time seemed like the only option, which was posing completely naked. Being totally nude in front of anybody was a huge deal for you, even though you fantasized about him devouring you in your own glory. But the thing was, you couldn’t expect what his reaction would be. What if he wouldn’t like it at all and would refuse? What if he would laugh at you and your desperation? All those scenarios scared you to your core and almost sent shivers down your spine. But the worst one would probably be him just doing his job and not questioning anything, just doing his job as coldly as always.

Sunghoon waited for you impatiently, though he didn’t have any expectations for today. At least that’s what he tried to convince himself about. After he prepared his easel as well as canvas, he went to the bathroom to check his hair once more and reapply new perfume, hoping you would like it. He even washed his apron so that not even a hint of deepest paint stains were visible on the material. He rolled up his sleeves and went to the studio he arranged in his apartment. It wasn’t big, but rather small and cozy. And the view that spread outside the big window many times was his main inspiration. Or maybe it was until he met you and painted you for the first time?

His mind started wondering why would you want your portrait just for yourself. He wasn’t blind, it wasn’t only him who was obsessed with you and he knew for sure you were well aware of your looks. But at the same time you weren't a selfish person, but rather timid and humble enough to not take compliments that well. That’s what truly made him so drawn towards you. Noticing how everybody wanted you for your looks made him look at you rather shallowly at first. Thinking he had a brush with a girl of a vain heart his surprise was pretty huge when he got to know you. Never had he met such a sweet soul like you. Doubts about your vainglory vanished with almost the same moment you had let him paint you, making you his favorite and practically only subject to portray. Ever since he looked at you like the most precious creature, that wasn’t able to hurt anybody or queen over others. Then why all of the sudden you wanted a portrait of yourself? Was it really for you, or for somebody else?

With a mind preoccupied with concerns and nervousness he prayed you wouldn’t wear anything too revealing. His thoughts were resolved as soon as he saw you. Opening the door for you he noticed your neat and pretty demure choice of clothing, consisting just of a shirt and a pair of jeans. His gaze fell on your exposed neck wrapped by uncontrived necklace and collarbones that protruded through your skin proudly.

“Will you let me in?” you asked, noticing him zoning out yet again. Coming back to reality he smiled warmly, eyes glued to yours. He welcomed you with a gesture and you took off your shoes.

Even though you knew each other for quite a long time now you never visited him at home. Being his introverted self he always stated that his apartment was his sanctuary, his oasis where he didn’t like having visitors at. That’s why you were extremely honored when he suggested meeting at his place.

„Would you like to drink something?” he asked and went behind the kitchen island to take a glass for him and potentially you.

“Water please,” you said and enjoyed the view of his back facing you.

His broad shoulders were enhanced by his slim waist that had an apron wrapped around it. His hair perfect as always, seemed a little shorter than last time you saw him. You wondered whether dropping a bomb would be better than waiting, but what would you even wait for, honestly? You knew what you wanted by now, all those days of thinking only about this day made you sure you wanted to expose yourself to him, both emotionally and physically.

Finally turning around he handed you your drink and watched you drink it.

‘Do you have any concept in mind? Any color palette you want the work to be in? Or do you want me to suggest something?” he asked, leaning on the kitchen island looking at you.

It’s now or never.

“Actually I do have some idea,” you said and tilted your head, creating a moment of suffocating suspense.

“Oh? Well, I’m listening, I wonder what you came up with.” With arms crossed on his chest he straightened his back. He showed you to his studio, and if not for what you had planned to say you would pay more attention to.

“For the color palette I was thinking nude,” you said a little too quickly.

He frowned slightly and observed your clothing. “Okay, but do you have something to change into? The colors of your outfit wouldn’t really suit the nude coloring.”

“Kind of…” Your gaze trailed off to the dried up paint stains on the easel and a mat that covered the wooden floor.

“What do you mean by ‘kind of’?” he chuckled.

“I can do this,” you thought to yourself, closing your eyes for a moment.

You turned around to face him. You stepped as close as your feet let you, almost as close as the last time when he held you. To your surprise he didn’t take any steps back, but looked at you from above, a faint smile still decorating his face. Your eyes traveled from his eyes to neck and his lips, only to finally whisper: “I want you to paint me naked.”

Waiting for his reaction you noticed how his smile slowly faded away.

“Okay,” he simply answered, his calm voice piercing your heart like a dagger. “I’ll prepare the base while you get ready,” he said, already taking care of the new canvas and mixing the right colors.

You watched his back as he silently prepared his utensils. Is this it?

With a completely unbothered expression he turned around after what seemed like eternity.

“Aren’t you going to get undressed?” he asked, pointing to your body with his brush.

“No.”

“I thought…”

“I came here because you wanted to repay me, right? Do your job fully Sunghoon and worry not only about preparing your stupid canvas but focus on preparing me,” you spat, knowing it sounded a little bit too harsh.

He came closer to you with his head tilted, with thought that maybe his deepest fantasies were shared with you. Your gaze screamed just one thing and he couldn’t believe he finally realized that they were saying the same thing for a while now. What a waste of time.

“What do you want me to do, Y/n?” He brushed your hair away from your face and tucked it behind your ear softly.

“Undress me. Paint on my body, mark me before eternalizing me on your painting.” Your voice got weaker and weaker as his face got closer with each of your words.

“Is this the only thing you want me to do?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting yours with a faint brush.

“Love me Sunghoon,” you breathed out.

Instead of pulling you in such a desired kiss, he pulled away taking almost a full picture of your form. His hands firmly placed on your waist slowly traveled up to the buttons of your shirt to painfully slowly unbutton them. Your eyes never left his, getting lost in their depth, while he was focused on devouring the moment he wished to last forever. Soon he gently let it fall down on the floor, leaving you in your bra.

“You’re so gorgoeus, Y/n,” he whispered just above your ear.

“Show me, show me how beautiful you think I am,” you demanded.

His eyes darkened and he started taking steps forward while you backed away. You hissed at the feeling of a cold wall hitting your sensitive skin but soon his hot breath warmed you up. His hand once again got a hold of your waist and he raised your head by your chin with the other. You looked not only beautiful, but vulnerable and desperate for his lips to finally fall on yours. Sunghoon couldn’t stop himself anymore, connecting you in a slow and sensual kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck bringing him closer and he cupped your cheek endearingly. The tension in the air made it impossible for you not to melt in his electrifying touch. The kiss started to get heavier, as he started sucking on your lip. Taking a cue of him brushing his tongue against your skin you parted your lips. Not wasting time he pushed his muscle in you and you almost moaned at the anticipation. His hand guided your head as he pleased and like a docile doll you let him do whatever he wanted.

He tapped your thigh and you wrapped them around his waist. Holding your body in his arms he left the studio, the main reason for your visit long forgotten as now his steps were taking you to his bedroom. Gently placing you on his mattress he broke the kiss to leave wet marks along your neck and collarbones, earning a breathy whine from you. Rubbing his back continuously you felt how wetness formed inside of your panties. Sunghoon groped your breasts firmly, giving them a good squeeze before you helped him take your bra off by raising your upper body. He let your tits free but not long after his lips attached to one of your nipples, while his fingers pinched the other one. Tangling your fingers in his thick locks you threw your head back in pleasure his tongue was giving you.

“Sunghoon,” you moaned, making his dick get even harder. Groaning he continued marking you, just like you wanted him to, preparing you for a portrait in colors of nude and purpure.

His fingers rested on your abdomen and traveled down to the waistband of your pants but you pulled him up to feel the warmth of his lips on your one more time, already drunk by the way they sucked on yours. You tucked on the first button of his shirt and he gave you a small nod, letting you undress him. He raised and took it off, revealing his defined muscles and slightly shiny skin.

“Done staring?” he chuckled.

“You’re beautiful, Sunghoon,” you blurted out, still admiring his whole manly silhouette.

Smiling at your compliment he hovered over you, lips brushing yours with no intention of kissing you. Instead he got lower and lower, not breaking eye contact with you, driving you completely crazy. He unbuckled your belt and unzipped your pants. Raising your hips you let him take them off along with your completely drenched underwear. He smirked noticing how desperate you were at your core, making you cover your face with your palms in slight embarrassment. Later you got to know it wasn’t a good idea, as he took you by surprise by licking a long stripe from your whole to sensitive clit. Arching your back, your hand found his head, pulling his hair in pleasure.

His tongue did wonders on your folds and you couldn’t contain your moans anymore, chanting his name like the most powerful spell. The way your voice cracked in whines of bliss he was causing, made him want to waste no time and just pull his pants off to fuck you, so that you would scream his name instead. But his number one priority was to give you the best experience you could think of, savoring your skin inch by inch, taking his time with you. Hugging your thighs he placed them on his shoulders, bringing you closer at the same time. Your taste on his tongue made him lose his eyes as he detached his lips from your pussy, only to wet his fingers.

Watching the scene unfold in front of you, your head once again fell backwards, knowing what to expect next. His finger slowly entered your hole, curling inside at the perfect angle. You let out a choked moan at the sensation of his finger inside you and his lips sucking on your clit. He started pumping his digit in and out of you at a moderate pace, that already left you breathless. Just when he added another finger and increased the speed of his pumps you felt how close you were.

“I’m so close.” You squirmed under his touch and he kept his tempo and intensity of his sucking. Pulling on his hair harder you felt vibrations from his groan and soon released around his fingers. He pumped them a few more times before pulling them out and ostentatiously licking them clean. Breathing heavily you covered your face, knowing that after all of those moans and other sounds you produced your skin would be red from intense blush.

Sunghoon waited for you to calm down and couldn’t stop wondering if this was all you came here for. Even if you did, he was completely fine with that, pleasuring you was something he dreamed of after all. But to prove his concerns wrong you managed to calm down a bit and pointed to the edge of his bed. “Sit,” you ordered, not caring about your tone anymore, urge and desperation to give him your head bigger than your exhaustion.

With slight hesitation and confusion he sat and with slightly parted lips watched as you kneeled in between his thighs, adding to the hardness of his cock. With your eyes glued to his, you ran your palms up and down his legs, getting dangerously close to his crotch with every stroke. His chest raised and his breath hitched as your fingers delicately brushed on his length, feeling how desperation grew inside his boxers. Unbuckling his belt and undoing the buttons of his pants you pulled them down, so they rested near his ankles. His boxers were already full, begging to be discharged but feeling quite in the mood for some teasing you slowly palmed him through thin material. With his mouth still slightly opened he watched as you started leaving chaste pecks on his clothed dick.

Though your teasing didn’t last long as you couldn’t wait to feel him just like he did. Hooking your fingers on the waistband of his underwear you pulled them off and now they joined his pants on the ground. Trying not to stare too much at him you left a few long kisses on his reddened tip still rubbing his muscles. You swallowed it and sucked, earning his head falling backwards. His hand landed on the back of your head and he slightly pushed you down. Without further ado you sank on him fully, hollowing your cheeks for double pleasure. Your nose pressed against his pelvis you gagged around him and cookwarmed him for a while, his hand now only for decoration, as it didn’t apply no pressure. His eyes rolled back when you finally bobbed your head vigorously, eager to get as much reaction from him as he did from you. And he had no intention of disappointing you. His low moans and groans soon filled the room and bounced like your head did on his shaft.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last long, baby,” he admitted though no hint of embarrassment was audible in his voice. Keeping your rhythm you waited patiently to swallow his hot load and bob your head a few more times to ride his high.

He leaned on his hands and heaved a sigh of content, with a genuine grin. Resting your head on his thigh with closed eyes you felt how he cupped your cheek and rubbed your skin softly. Looking up at him you noticed his smile. It wasn’t cocky, nor fake, but full of emotions he felt he held in for too long now. Patting his lap he invited you to sit there. You climbed there from the floor with his help and soon you were wrapped securely in his strong arms. None of you spoke, at least not yet, only looking for answers in each other’s eyes, in complete silence. Both your chests raised and lowered in heavy breaths, too scared to say something. His touch was just like that day in the studio, when he held you close to himself. It said what he was scared to say for this whole time he knew you. If only you realized his feelings sooner you wouldn’t waste time to test him. You remembered all those sessions you admired him and wondered if he did the same while you weren’t looking.

“Y/n?” Sunghoon called your name and you looked at him more attentively. You noticed how he struggled to put his thoughts into words so you interrupted him.

“Sunghoon, I love you. For the longest time now. And it’s okay if you don’t,” you said, hoping and knowing at the back of your mind that his answer is going to satisfy you.

“After what had just happened you still have some hesitancy about it?” He revealed his teeth in a chuckle.

Leaning in, you connected your lips once again, linking them together in a slow and passionate kiss. Not controlling your movements anymore and letting your emotions and feelings take a lead, your hands traveled all along his back and abs, while he just made sure you’re not shifting too much on him. But soon his control was taken over by his desire. Flipping you around he laid you on your back and you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him closer. He groaned lowly against your lips as soon as his tip brushed against your hot and still wet core.

“Do you have condoms?” you asked bluntly, breaking the kiss.

Nodding he reached to the drawer of his nightstand. Rolling it on his length he positioned himself between your legs looking straight into your eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, looking for any sign of hesitation from you, but you nodded your head surely.

“I want you so bad,” you let out a whiny whisper.

And who he is to deny you the pleasure when you ask him so politely, while he lusted after you probably a lot more.

Pushing himself into your hole, you dug your nails into his skin, and he hissed at both the feeling of your walls around him and you scratching his back. Your eyes rolled back once he started thrusting into you, at a moderate pace. Lips brushing against each other, not daring to look at each other. Instead he buried his face into your neck, leaving a few sticky kisses on your favorite spots.

“Faster, please,” you whined and momentarily he picked up the pace but soon you asked once again.

“Then help me a bit and go on all fours for me, baby,” he whispered to your ear and pulled away to face you.

With shaky legs you moved obediently to the position he asked you to and moaned when you felt him entering you a little bit more harshly this time. Getting a firm grip on your waist he controlled your movements and thrusted much faster and deeper, reaching the spot he couldn’t with his fingers before. Not being able to hold your balance on your hands anymore you fell on his pillows, ass still high. He threw his head back at the sight of your arched back and asscheeks bouncing with his every thrust. His bedroom soon was filled with your moans, his groans and the sound of his balls slapping your clit.

All yours and his desires coming true, the painting got long forgotten, much important stuff occupying your minds.

The immense pleasure made you feel dizzy, clenching around him from time to time.

“If you don’t stop clenching around me, I’m not gonna last long,” he panted, trying to keep the high pace.

“I’m gonna cum too,” you moaned with a shaky voice.

Feeling the familiar knot in your stomach you released around him as his cum filled the condom. With last thrusts he pulled out and watched how you collapsed fully, hair completely messy, just like your breathing. He laid next to you, trying to catch his breath, looking at you from time to time. Turning around, your eyes met. He opened his arms invitingly and you nestled up to him with a beaming smile. His warmed-up skin, breath fanning your face and a few loving pecks on your forehead made you feel like you could fall asleep here and there. And just before you dozed off, you heard how he whispered straight to your ear: “I love you, my forever muse.”

a/n thank you for reading! it’s my first longer fic on this blog so let me know what you think!

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #enha hard hours #enha smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon hard thoughts #sunghoon hard hours #sunghoon #sunghoon enhypen #enhypen sunghoon hard hours #enhypen sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x you

1K notes · View notes

roosterforme · 7 months

Text

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on.

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy.

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it.

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves.

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed.

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine.

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

--------------------------

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once.

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot.

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting.

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number.

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside.

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was.

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing.

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation.

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

-----------------------

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me."

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her.

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

-----------------------

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner.

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry.

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out.

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her.

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch.

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from.

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea."

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod.

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked.

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

--------------------------

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

@thedroneranger

@theamuz

@cherrycola27

@katiedid-3

@yuckosworld

@je-suis-prest-rachel

@callsign-magnolia

@t-nd-rfoot

@wkndwlff

@eddiemunsonreader

@wintercap89

@the-fever-of-mankind

@sio-ina-bottle

@lovingperfectionsblog

@daisydont-lie

@sappy-seresin

@birdy-bat-writes

@cutelittlefakejourneys

@cottagecori

@fandom-princess-forevermore

@sotalife

@novastories

@xoxabs88xox

@rileyanntoinette

@mannsachds

@midnightmagpiemama

@greatszu

@zetasaturno99

@lovingrobertfloyd

@taytaylala12

@captain-fandomwriter58

@grxcisxhy-wp

@hobireasns

@wolfquake23

@smileybouquet

@paintlavillered

@seitmai

@noonenuts

@amiets2

@sylviebell

@imnotcreativeenoughforthisblog

@lonelysoul50

@sweetwhispersofchaos

#bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd fic #robert floyd #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #roosterforme #covering the classics

517 notes · View notes

shuahoonie · 1 year

Text

warm on a cold night | kim mingyu

pairing: non-idol!mingyu (svt) x female!reader

notes: college au! fluff, pet names, the great wall of mingyu, fake dating for convenience? maybe questionable relationships (aka mingyu what are we), a bit of angst— nothing too serious, alcohol consumption, a clingy and touchy mingyu. loosely based on the song warm on a cold night by HONNE

word count: 3.6k (a bit of a long one, sorry!)

summary: there was no denying that mingyu looked like he was carved out from the gods, that's why he keeps getting asked out.

yet every poor person's attempt of asking him out is often met with rejection. the reason? you two are *supposedly* dating (on the dl), he would say. the truth? you two aren’t.

part of the to x, with love mini series

shuahoonie's masterlist | to x, with love masterlist

"kim mingyu, can you please enlighten me why the girls that i just passed by from the engineering department literally gave me the nastiest side eye?" you raised a brow at mingyu who was crouched over at the student lounges by the engineering department. you set the coffee and cake at the nearby empty table.

upon hearing your voice, mingyu looked like a child on christmas morning as soon as he saw you.

“baby!” mingyu came running, tackling you with a huge hug, abandoning the plates he had been working on. “i missed you!” he said, almost excruciatingly loud, turning a few heads over your way.

“yah,” you smacked the back of his head, causing him to groan and let go of the hug almost immediately. “i told you to quit calling me that!”

“you don’t like being called honey nor sweetheart either,” mingyu mumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

“it’s because my parents call me that,” you replied, getting sidetracked. “but that’s not the point—“

“would you rather i call you kitten, instead?” he asked in a suggestive tone, wriggling his eyebrows.

“why you—“ you were ready to let out a string of curses, a hand also ready to smack the living daylights out of him, before mingyu grabbed you from behind and wrapped both his arms around you— one to press over your mouth and one to stop your hand from hitting him.

“kitten, let’s not get violent.” mingyu said, trying to calm you down.

“yn, are you being held hostage by your own boyfriend?” jihoon asked in amusement as he passed by you two.

you pulled away mingyu’s hand that was pressed against your lips, “yes, but he’s not my boyfriend.”

mingyu, who still stood there behind you, rested his chin on top of your head and continued to wrap his arms around you.

“not according to the people from the music department,” jihoon replied with a smirk. “and this,” he gestured to the position that you two are in “is not helping.”

“uji, what are you doing in the engineering department anyway?” mingyu asked, “are you here to see me because you miss me?” he teased.

“no, because why would i even do that," jihoon looked disgusted upon hearing mingyu's comment, making mingyu pout. "besides, unlike some people, i don’t have to run from one end of the campus to the other just to see someone,” jihoon replied, the comment more so directed at you.

“i did not run on my way here,” you rolled your eyes, feeling defensive all of a sudden. “and i’m here because this 6 ft tall baby won’t stop blowing upmy phone, saying he wanted coffee.”

“and yet you’re here,” jihoon said in a teasing tone, enough to make you charge at him— you could’ve though, if wasn’t for mingyu who’s still latched to you.

“and my baby’s here with iced americano,” he said, letting go of you and grabbing the coffee instead. “and cake?” his eyes almost sparkled upon seeing the familiar takeout box from his favourite dessert place aka cheollie and jeonghan’s cafe. “oh, you truly love me.” mingyu chuckled softly.

you snorted. “yeah, right.” it’s always complicated with you two. you never knew where things crossed and you assumed neither did mingyu.

“okay, it seems like i’m intruding,” jihoon mumbled “i need to go, i have to meet vernon by the library soon— have fun you two.” jihoon said with a smile. “oh, and do not forget, we’re all meeting at seungcheol’s café on saturday. the man gets sulky whenever we don’t go all out on his birthday,” he added before he left you two alone.

“wait, i’ll come with you, uji!” you said to jihoon before turning to mingyu who was already pouting. “i need to go, gyu. good luck on your plates!” you smiled at him and gently tapped his cheek.

“you’re not staying with me?” mingyu was getting sulky “but you just got here.” he whined.

“i only came here because you kept calling my phone, you’re lucky i didn’t block your number.” you said, half-joking— on the latter part, of course!

“you’d never do it anyway.” mingyu said with a smug smile.

“only because you’ll tell my mom and i will never hear the end of it.” you sighed. “i swear she loves you more than me.”

"it's because she has taste," mingyu stuck his tongue out at you, making you roll your eyes "unlike her daughter who will purposely leave me alone to fend for myself."

"you are so dramatic, i swear to god," you grumbled loud enough for mingyu to hear. being the menace that he is, he threw a balled-up straw wrapper at you. "okay, i'm going, bye." you said in one breath and ran to catch up with jihoon, not even bothering to look back.

"without even a kiss or anything?!" mingyu yelled obnoxiously, urging you to run faster.

jihoon caught glimpse of you and stopped so you can catch up, and catch your breath. "you okay?" jihoon asked in amusement.

you nodded. "yeah, let's go. don't want to keep nonie waiting," you said in between breaths. "mingyu better bring me food later because he pulled me from having a main character moment from the cafe." you huffed.

"are you sure you and mingyu are just friends?" jihoon asked with a raised brow.

"uji, just because you wound up dating your best friend, that doesn't mean the rest of us would have to do it too," you said teasingly. it wasn't a joke per se. "except for jeonghan, because you know, he hates being one-upped."

jihoon rolled his eyes, but it was evident he was turning red. "we won't tease you— if that's why you are so secretive about it." jihoon commented "although, i have to be honest, you two are more clingier than me and my partner."

"that's because you detest any form of physical affection," you pointed out.

"might i remind you that you also used to hate that too," jihoon proclaimed "until mingyu practically latched on to you like glue."

you ignored jihoon’s comment, mostly because he was right, but you’re not willing to admit that just yet. "it wasn't like he made me uncomfortable or anything— and i did say yes to the whole ‘if anyone asks, can i tell them that we’re dating’ thing, since it was bothering him" you rambled "he just said people wouldn't take his rejections seriously so he had to show people that he wasn't interested."

"so, what, is this a complicated way of projecting that you two are fake dating?"

"i guess so," you sighed. "i mean, i guess it's working because no one really bothered him anymore,”

"and you're okay with that?" jihoon asked.

"i mean, i get the occasional side eye from people, which i, too, return because i hate losing" you joked, "and if it keeps mingyu happy, then..."

"ya!" jihoon flicked you on the forehead, making you yelp, "we've all been friends for ages and i know your secret feelings for mingyu, so i know this is secretly killing you."

"wow," you were trying to act appalled, when jihoon was exactly right. "i do not have secret feelings for mingyu.”

“repeat it five more times, it might come true,” jihoon teased. “i see the way you look at him,” he points out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“i look at him the same way i look at you guys,” you replied as you and jihoon entered the library, spotting vernon slouching at one of the chairs— bored out of his mind.

“you look at us like we’re stupid,” jihoon rolled his eyes.

“exactly.” you beamed at him.

“yn,” vernon looked surprised upon seeing you with jihoon. “i thought you were with mingyu.”

“why would you think that?” you asked him with a raised brow.

“because he wouldn’t stop moaning about how much you kept ignoring his calls earlier,” vernon replied. “and i thought you finally gave in.”

“now, why on earth would you assume that i would give in.” you crossed your arms, slightly annoyed of the idea that is your current legacy— the girl who will always give in for kim mingyu.

“because it’s mingyu,” vernon smirked “you would’ve done anything for him.”

seungcheol and jeonghan’s quaint café was already alive as soon as you got there. it was said to be an intimate get together but you didn’t expect the amount of people who gathered for seungcheol’s party.

“yn!” vernon waved at you as soon he saw you emit from the doors. “were you alone? did you drive?”

“i came here straight from work,” you explained “i was told that mingyu’s planning to get wasted so i brought my car, in case any of you needs a ride.”

vernon raised his brow. “any of us? or just mingyu?”

“yah!” you flicked his forehead in response, making vernon yelp. “you’ve been spending way too much time with uji.”

“but it’s true,” you heard vernon mumble to himself.

“i was also told that it was an intimate get together” you said as you scanned the place filled with a good mix of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

“yeah, but knowing cheol, he probably wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to celebrate his day with the people he knew,” vernon commented as you two made your way towards the crowd, aiming to find the table where the rest of your friends are hopefully staying.

"happy birthday, cheollie!" you beamed at seungcheol, who just finished checking up on soonyoung and seungkwan. you gave a big wave to soonie and kwannie, making a mental note to properly say hi later.

you handed him the perfectly wrapped present that you may or may not have spent ages on wrapping— you had to mentally put yourself on a pinterest lockdown. “it’s from me and gyu,” you smiled at him.

“thanks, yn,” seungcheol smiles. “you know, you didn’t have to get me anything though.” his smile falters and you did have a sense on where this is going. “you could’ve just greeted me at 12 am in the group chat, didn’t leave me on read.” cheol sulks.

you rolled your eyes at the most incredulous take you heard from your friend. “choi seungcheol, i swear to god— you are the only person i know that bullies people into greeting them happy birthday as soon as the clocks hit midnight.”

“it’s a special day!” seungcheol pouts.

“whatever,” you dismissed him jokingly, earning you a dramatic huff from cheol. “where’s joshua? i haven’t seen him in ages,” you asked, peering around the room.

“why are you looking for another man when your boyfriend’s here?” mingyu suddenly pops out of nowhere, handing you a drink. seungcheol went to make rounds again, checking up on his guests. meanwhile vernon joined soonyoung and seungkwan’s table— which was only a couple of steps away from you two.

“gyu, it’s literally just us here.” you rolled your eyes at him as you gladly accepted the cola. “i don’t think we need to keep acting here,”

“kitten, there’s people here that don’t know that.”

“exactly,” you pointed out. “there’s no reason for us to start acting like a couple if the people here don’t even care if we’re ‘seeing’ each other.”

“but i do,” mingyu mumbled— closer to a whisper. he feared that if he said it to your face— or if you heard it, you’d think differently of him.

but you did hear it. you weren’t sure if it was the mixed chatter that’s messing up your hearing, or if you were just hearing things that you wanted to hear. nonetheless, it had you flustered.

you cleared your throat. “i’ll be back, gyu. i wanna check the food platter,” you said quietly before leaving.

gyu gave a tight nod, which it didn’t go unnoticed by the rest of the guys.

upon checking what cheol’s birthday spread, you felt a small tap on your shoulder. “pst!”

you were immediately filled with surprise and joy when you saw joshua standing behind you, smiling, and his arms spread out waiting for a hug.

“shua!” you almost shrieked, tackling him in a hug. “i missed you!”

joshua let out a small laugh. “i missed you too, ynnie.”

you quickly let go of the hug, remembering the text he sent you a few days ago and gave him a playful smack in the arm. “you know, you’re truly sick in the head for texting me that after you asked me for a favour.”

“i was just congratulating you for overcoming your pride and finally accepting the fact that you love mingyu,” joshua teased, nudging you playfully. “must you forget that i follow you on your private twitter?”

“literally shut the fuck up, shua,” you grumbled.

“wow,” joshua sighs, appalled “you kiss mingyu with that mouth?!”

“you annoying brat—“ you were about to smack him before joshua caught your hand, laughing at how flustered you were becoming.

across the room, mingyu was watching you and joshua. how playful you were around joshua. it’s not like he’s jealous or anything— because he’s not. or rather, he has no right to be.

seungkwan picked up on gyu’s slight change of behaviour and where his line of vision was projecting. “you know they’re just really close friends right?” seungkwan comments, trying to ease the conversation.

“hm?” mingyu pretended to not know what seungkwan was pertaining to.

of course, it didn’t work. it’s seungkwan we’re talking about here. he knows when things can get messy really fast and he knows when to stop it. the pointed look that seungkwan gave was also a telling sign that mingyu shouldn’t even bother to lie.

mingyu sighed before taking big gulps of his beer. “she’s allowed to like whomever,” mingyu finally says. “even if it’s my best friend, i’ll still support her.”

“oh, i cannot do this,” vernon muttered under his breath, leaving the table as soon as the words left mingyu’s mouth.

soonyoung was quietly listening to mingyu and seungkwan’s conversation. it was the quietest he has been all night, well, partly because he had already drank a bottle of soju. soonie was afraid that if he said something, it would incriminate you and your feelings for mingyu— and he’d rather not face your wrath.

“well, have you two talked about whatever happens if either of you wanted to date someone else?” seungkwan asked.

the question lingered around mingyu— it never crossed his mind. he had always assumed that you would always be there for him, which was extremely selfish considering you weren’t his to begin with.

mingyu’s silence was enough for seungkwan. he knew where mingyu’s feelings settled. quite, frankly, seungkwan knew where your feelings for mingyu too. but seungkwan knew better than to meddle, especially with unresolved feelings that involved two idiots.

mingyu watched you give joshua a small bag— a present, probably. joshua gave you a grateful smile and a big hug after, making you giggle at something he said. shua seemed happy around you and you were happy around him.

that hurt more than mingyu wanted to admit.

“yn,” joshua whispered as you were busy picking food. “how much are you willing to bet that mingyu’s jealous right now?” he asked upon catching a glimpse of mingyu, who was on his 3rd bottle of beer now and was watching them intently.

you snorted, not bothering to look at joshua. “at whom? is he eyeing on someone i didn’t know about?”

“why,” a twinkle formed in joshua’s eyes “are you jealous?”

“psh,” you didn’t even bother to look at him. joshua will read you right away. “why would i be? i’m not his girlfriend.”

“oh my god,” joshua laughed almost annoyingly that you’d rather take back the limited edition copy of the book that he asked you to get him— a favour for being a good friend, apparently. you knew damn well joshua was going to give that to someone else. “you are! oh, how cute.” he gushed.

“i am not,” you groaned, lying straight through your teeth.

“you should go back,” joshua laughs “as much as i have enjoyed seeing how you two really felt about each other, i don’t want to be the cause of whatever’s stopping you two from it.” with joshua’s ominous words and a small goodbye, he left.

“yn,” seungcheol suddenly crept behind you. “check up on, gyu. he’s drinking too much for someone who hasn’t eaten anything.”

“where did you even—“ your heart was racing, still startled at cheol.

“don’t ask questions and just go,” cheol said, pushing you towards mingyu.

you found mingyu absolutely buzzed beside seungkwan. mingyu rested his head on top of seungkwan’s shoulder, his eyes staring directly at you. seungkwan, on the other hand, was looking at you with pleading eyes— asking as if to save him from this misery.

“yah, kim mingyu,” you grabbed mingyu’s hand and attempted to pull him up from his chair “kwannie’s getting tired. leave him alone.”

“no, he’s not.” mingyu sulked. oh, he’s definitely drunk. “i don’t hear him complaining.”

“because seungkwannie’s too nice to say anything,” you replied, shooting seungkwan an apologetic smile. “get up, mingyu. let’s grab something for you to eat and maybe some water.”

“i don’t want to,” he moaned. mingyu straightened up his position and leaned his head back against the wall. “why are you here anyway? where’s joshua?” he asked, eyes closed.

seungkwan and soonyoung could sense tension between you and mingyu. the last thing they wanted was to witness what was about to unfold. “hyung,” seungkwan grabbed soonyoung’s arm. “let’s go grab something to drink.”

soonie, though nearly drunk, understood the situation and nodded.

as soon as the two left, you stood closer to mingyu, towering against him. “mingyu,” you patted his cheek softly, attempting to make him look at you. “c’mon.”

mingyu groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. it was ridiculous, you had no idea why he was acting like this. well, you had a hunch— joshua’s comment coming into mind— but it was ridiculous right? right?

mingyu eventually met your eyes— a bit red, probably from exhaustion. “where’s shua?” mingyu asked quietly.

you raised an eyebrow at him. “why? is there something you wanted to tell him?” you asked, sitting next to him.

mingyu turned his head against you, wondering why there’s a small smirk forming in your face.

“no,” mingyu huffed. “you looked like you were having tons of fun with him.”

“yeah, i was.” you replied casually, willing to play the game— willing to find out whether joshua’s hunch about mingyu being jealous was actually true. “joshua’s your friend, you know.”

“i know,” mingyu huffed, as if you were rubbing it to him. “so why are you here?” mingyu asked, sounding annoyed. almost.

“why? do you not want me here?”

“i do, but—“ mingyu ran a hand over his face out of frustration. come to think of it, he was slowly coming into his senses. wondering why he was acting like this. “you know what, you’re free to do whatever you want.”

“of course, i am.” you casually agreed.

“then why—“

you cut mingyu off and asked “gyu, why do you think i’m here?”

mingyu bit the inside of his cheeks before answering “to take care of me?”

“partly, yeah,” you laughed. “and it’s because i like spending time with you.”

mingyu’s sulky behaviour instantly dissipates, a large grin suddenly taking over his face. “you like spending time with me?” he asks, almost excitedly.

“there’s a lot of things i like about you, mingyu.” you answered, almost easily— not even knowing where this newfound confidence came from. “why do you think i keep doing things for you?”

“i thought you were just being overtly loyal to being my best friend,” he answered with a pout.

“gyu, i don’t think i could ever agree to do the things you asked me to if it were someone else.”

“you mean if joshua asked you to be his pretend girlfriend, you’d say no?” mingyu asked with a quirk brow.

“where is this jealousy from joshua coming from?!” you practically yelled, smacking his arm. “that’s your best friend, you brat.”

“yeah? so?” mingyu crossed his arms “he’s a nice guy— a gentleman, sweet. i wouldn’t be surprised if you liked him.”

“oh my god,” you groaned “kim mingyu, you are dense as fuck.”

“yah, why are you calling me stupid?” mingyu turns his body to fully face you.

“because i’ve been trying to tell you that i like you, stupid.” you said, irritated.

“you like me?” mingyu’s face lights up.

“yes, you weirdo.”

“if you like me then why are you calling me ‘weirdo’?!” mingyu pouts.

“because you’re weird! never had i seen someone react like this, even after they were told that someone likes them.”

“but you like meee,” mingyu practically sings. “i like you too, ynnie.” he said snuggling closer to you, resting his head on top of yours.

“oh, i know” you replied, unbothered by the look that mingyu gave you. “i knew the moment that shua hugged me and gave me his attention, i knew you were jealous.”

“you knew that i was jealous and you still didn’t do anything about it?”

“please,” you snorted “i was trying to prove the theory. i am, first and foremost, a research girly after all.”

“and what theory is that?” mingyu asked,

“that i was certain about my feelings about you,” you replied. “and that i just had to make sure you were too.”

“you did all that when i could’ve just kissed you?”mingyu baffles “you had me seeing red.”

“uh, not with beer-breath you’re not.” you said, crossing your arms. mingyu suddenly stands up, prompting you to ask “where are you going?”

“to ask cheol if he has any spare toiletries in his office,” mingyu answers in a hurry, making you laugh.

hiya friends! sorry if this took a while! april has not been kind to a fourth-yr uni student, but at least, it's all over now! i can write (non-uni related works) as much as i want! 🤩

#kim mingyu x reader #kim mingyu #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu fluff #mingyu fanfic #mingyu fic #svt imagines #svt x you #svt fluff #mingyu x you #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x reader #mingyu scenarios #shuahoonie writes

3K notes · View notes

russellsppttemplates · 5 months

Text

A red thread tying you to me (Charles Leclerc)

There was something pulling you to him and Charles was ready to act on it

Note: english is not my first language. I loved the blurb and now we have a big piece too!

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: mentions the death of reader's father's and Charles' father's deaths

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3

"The congress is just outside of Milan, the exact city and details are in there", your colleague Lucia offered as she flickered though the pages, "I've been a couple of times before and it's really enriching, I just know you'll love the students and the department head - she was my supervisor for a couple of years".

"It sounds great", you looked at the panel information and then the travel details, "it's such a shame you can't come with me though, but I also wouldn't want to risk your little dude showing up and have me as your midwife", you chuckled as Lucia rubbed her baby bump.

"You're capable of many things, Y/N, but I would prefer if the fate of my baby and my underparts was in the hands of a professional!", she bumped your shoulder, "and the area is really nice too, I'm sure you'll find something to keep you busy during the weekend".

"I have plans, actually, I'll be fine I think", you smiled.

Like Lucia predicted, you had a great time in the conference and the guest lecture you gave was applauded and discussed for nearly an hour after you showed the last slide of the presentation, topics going back and forth until everyone had to absolutely leave the room before the next lecture began. For now, you'd get to enjoy the region, drinking some wine and taking in the views you recognised.

The park where your father used to take you didn't look too different. The slides didn't look rusty anymore, and the swing was a bright red colour as you sat on it once you didn't see any other kid around who might want to use them and let yourself feel the breeze on your face and hair as you kicked your legs in and out. Your father used to make you feel like you could touch the sky with how high he helped you go, "you're going to touch the clouds, mia piccola stella", he would say and you would laugh loudly.

You missed him every single day, but over the years, your grief allowed you remember all of the happy moments you lived with him, cherishing them close to your heart. Spending the whole weekend in Monza and attending the race was something you hadn't done without him since he passed away. The circuit was your father's favourite - "it's the fans, Y/N, there's a thrill in the air that no other circuit has - Tifosi cover the streets, they're all you can see around town and it's magical almost" he would say to you, so when you noticed the conference was in the area and coincided with the Grand Prix weekend, both you and your mother agreed you should take the opportunity.

On your way back to the hotel, you stopped by the track, wondering what the preparations for a race weekend looked like after so many years. You still followed the sport, but you never got the chance to catch this on television.

"Oh my, oh my", you heard someone say beside where you were standing, "I can't believe my eyes, it's Y/N Y/L/N".

Turning around you spotted Salvatore, one of the mechanics your father worked with. He also had kids around your age and you would often play together whenever you were both in the garage for the weekend.

"Salvatore!", you cheered, giving him a big smile after kissing each of his cheeks, "you better believe your eyes then".

"It's been so long since I've seen you last", he recalled, rubbing your back softly. You and your mother had gone to Maranello for a tribute ceremony the team had for your father - that had been the last time he saw you.

"It has been, yes - I'm sorry", you apoligised. You told the team you'd be around and so much had happened since and you only watched it through a screen instead of living it in the flesh.

"It's okay, it was the time you needed - What brought you to Monza this weekend?", he wondered as he walked inside the paddock with you, scanning his card and getting you both in.

"A work trip actually - I finished a conference yesterday and I also gave a lecture at the university", you nodded, "and my father always loved Monza", you smiled at the memory, "he knew how cliché that sounded, but he always said there wasn't a better weekend on the calendar. And I've missed the rush, too", you offered, letting the tears flow freely and accepting them even though you were in the middle of the paddock, loud noises coming from every angle as the teams prepared the finishing touches for the upcoming race.

"He's very proud of you, I'm sure", Salvatore comforted, "and everyone will be happy to see you here - the little girl with the high pigtails is a grown woman now who attends conferences and gives lectures, who would've known?", he joked as you stepped inside the garage.

"Is this little troublemaker Y/N Y/L/N?", one of the oldest mechanics said after he applied a sticker to the halo.

When your father took you to the races, everyone knew they had fun guaranteed with you, always pulling pranks and laughing loudly, "my troublemaker days are over, I'm a responsible woman now", you chuckled, giving a quick wave to everyone before greeting everyone individually.

"Do you have tickets for this weekend?", Fred asked. Even though he had just met you, it was clear to him how much you mattered to everyone who worked with your father, "we can get you a pass, I'm sure".

"I have grandstand tickets", you stated.

"Silvia!", the team principal called the woman, making her approach him and rub your arm kindly, "do we have any guest passes left?".

"Let me check", Silvia mumbled, "we have one left, actually! Charles didn't even notice he asked us to save a ticket for his mother twice - I'll get it for you, it's in the meeting room upstairs", she smiled.

"Charles will also be very happy to see you around, did you tell him you were coming?", Salvatore mentioned.

"I haven't actually - I've been really busy", you mumbled.

You met the monégasque driver when he was Scuderia Ferrari's development driver and Prema Racing driver in Formula Two, accidentally running into him in the dining area of the hospitality and ending up spending most of his free time there throughout the whole weekend.

Quickly, it became a tradition to do so whenever he was over and whenever he was done with his Formula Two duties and you happened to be at the same track.

When you stopped attending races because the memories were too painful, you lost contact, opting to react to eachother's Instagram stories every now and again and sending quick messages through the social media app.

"The boys arrive today, but they're only coming to the track tomorrow", Fred added, "you'll have plenty of time to catch up".

Charles had finally arrived to the hotel after all the flights and drives, thankful that there weren't many fans around already and he could get inside without a hitch, checking in and getting his room keys.

"Hold it, per favore!", he said to the person on the lift, dreaming of the changing from his travel outfit and the bed waiting for him. When his hand helped him inside the metal door, he couldn't believe his eyes, "Y/N?".

He could remember the last time he saw you. He had just started his first season as a Formula One driver for Alfa Romeo and you had come back to the paddock for the first race of the season like you promised you would. He sat with you whenever he had a little break, you caught up with him and his early days as a driver with a seat rather than just watching from the sidelines.

"Charles, hi!", you gasped, hugging him and feeling him squeeze your body against his.

"I- what are you doing here? Are you here for the race?", he wondered. This couldn't be a mere coincidence. He hoped it wasn't.

"I had a work trip here that coincided with this weekend, and I thought of it as a sign", you explained, "you're staying in this hotel too?".

"Yes, the team are at the one where we usually stay for the weekend, but until Thursday, I'm staying here, yes", he smiled, "Goodness, I feel like it's both been forever and like it was yesterday", he chuckled, "do you want to get a drink? I have a nice selection in my room whenever I stay", he offered.

"I'd love to, Charles", you said, hoping that the tingly feeling on your tummy mirrored Charles' own excitement at this unexpected but valued encounter, "are you sure though? You just arrived".

"No, don't worry about that! My room is... 705", he checked on the card he was handed, "so you can join me now or maybe you want to set those things down first and meet me there?", he pointed to the bag you were carrying.

"Yes, this is quite heavy actually", you blushed, "my room is on this floor, so I'll meet in your room in fifteen? I need to freshen up because I've been walking around town all day".

Leaving the elevator on your floor, Charles waved at your before the doors closed andyou headed to your door. Stepping inside, you left the totebag with the books you bought in the chair before heading to the bathroom, brushing out any tangles in your hair and splashing your face with water to freshen up.

After getting yourself ready to go, you went up to Charles' floor, knocking on the door and waiting for him.

"Come in, come in!", Charles offered after he opened the door, "I've unpacked but kept it very organised still", he chuckled as you walked inside the room. It looked the same as yours did, only a different colour pallette for the decoration.

"How have you been?", you wondered once you sat down and shared some sparkling water, neither of you really feeling like drinking anything alcoholic.

"You surely know more about me than I know about you", Charles smiled, "but it's been good, this season has been great so far, I feel like we're in a really good path and things are working well", he took a sip from his cup, "the team have done such an incredible job".

"And the driver on the car doesn't have anything to do with that?", you squinted at his ever so modest take on things.

"I suppose I do", he blushed.

"I may have not been here, but I've watched every race - minus some of the ones at daft o'clock, I only watched those when my sleep was all messed up", you joked, "you're an essential part of this team, Charles, everyone can see that so you should give yourself more credit", you touched his arm.

Even though it had been years since you last saw eachother, you hit it off immediately and it seemed like no time had passed.

"And you? What is this work trip that brought you here?", Charles nodded.

"You're not the only one who gets to travel for work, alright?", you tsked, "I had to do a presentation on a conference and then the department invited me for a lecture, nothing big".

"Who's being ever so modest now, hm? That is fantastic, mon ange!", he congratulated before he noticed the words coming out of his mouth.

"When I noticed it fell around this weekend, I told my mum and she said that I should try and dip my foot here - I've been wanting to come to race sooner but...", you trailed off.

"I get it - it's hard going to the places that remind you of them", Charles took his hand in yours and squeezed it, "he was so cherished by the team, I'm sure everyone will be very happy to see you".

"Actually, I walked to the track today so I could see it up close before the race - I hoped it wouldn't be such a big shock once I got there on Friday -, and I bumped into Salvatore", you smiled, "he let me go into the garage and I saw everyone, it was really nice", you looked up so the tears on your eyes wouldn't fall.

"I can get you a pass, let me just text Silvia!", Charles said as he got his phone from his pocket with his free hand.

"She already did", you chirped, "apparently you booked two for your mother, so they had a spare one".

"You see, a couple of years ago, my mum was too late to tell me she was coming to the race and I was out of the guest passes, so I always have one on hold for her and I sent the list with her name on it as well", he admitted, "but it seems to have turned out just fine - meant to be even".

You ended up requesting room service for the two of you for dinner, neither feeling like going out of the room after feeling so comfortable there. Conversation was steady, vulnerability was easy to show and the butterflies were happily dancing on your tummy.

"I better get to my room, then", you stated once Charles told you about what he needed to do tomorrow once he was at the track.

"I didn't mean it that way - I'm fine!", he said after doing his best attempt at containing a big yawn, "I'm fine!".

"You're tired, and frankly so am I", you admitted as you got up from the bed.

"Would you like to come with me to the track tomorrow? If you don't have other plans that is", he mumbled the last part.

"I don't - I was just going to work a little bit, but if you find me a spot in the hospitality, I'll happily take my stuff there", you smiled reassuringly as you put on your shoes and headed to the door.

"I can take you to your room", Charles got up from the bed and followed you.

"No need, my room is just downstairs", you reasoned, kissing his cheek in a silent thank you still.

"That's right - so we'll go tomorrow after breakfast?", he rested his body on the door once you opened it.

"Yes, that works for me! Good night, Charles", you smiled before walking up to the elevator.

Walking inside the hospitalitynwith Salvatore and the rest of the team, he was quick to show you where you could set up.

"Charles likes to spend as much time as possible with the fans and it's right about now that they start becoming more and more and they're everywhere, too", he explained as he helped you in the table on the lounge area, "there's food and coffee in there if you need anything", Salvatore smiled, "if you need anything, just ask someone".

"Thank you - this is perfect", you assured, sitting down and working on your laptop and reading some of the books you had bought.

Charles and Carlos finally arrived at the hospitality, greeting the team and talking to them for a while before they headed upstairs for a meeting.

"You didn't tell me you had a girlfriend and you were bringing her here", Carlos told Charles as he poured some coffee on a mug after the meeting.

"I don't - I haven't brought a girlfriend here", Charles quirked an eyebrow at his team-mate.

"So who is that young woman you just smiled at and are pouring coffee for after giving her the heart eyes?", it was the spanish driver's turn to raise his eyebrows.

"Oh, Y/N!", Charles smiled as he mentioned your name, "she's an old friend! Her father was a mechanic before he passed away a few years ago - the older team members have known her since she was little, everyone loves her", he mused.

"Everyone loves her - I can see that", Carlos chuckled as he followed Charles to the table.

"We don't want to interrupt or disturb you too much", Charles announced as he set the mug next to your laptop.

"It's fine, sit sit!", you encouraged as you closed the books you no longer needed to make room for them, "I'm Y/N", you told Carlos.

"I'm Carlos", he smiled back, "nice to meet you", he said before you dove into conversation, discussing anything that popped into your minds and getting to know eachother.

"Don't let her fool you into believing she has always been a responsible, put together girl because she used to steal and hide all of our tools!", Antonio, one of the engineers pointed at you after he got himself a bottle of water, "Charles knows her tricks already but you, Carlos, don't fall for that!".

"You loved it every time I was on the computers and drew on Paint! You even had one of my drawings as the background for almost an entire season!", you threw at him as he approached you, patting the top of your head protectively.

"I'd like to see that! I've only known her since she was way older", Charles pouted.

"Jealous much?", Carlos teased, his voice above a whisper as Charles seemed to get flustered.

"Is it really that obvious?", the monégasque driver mumbled once you got up to get something to eat, "I've had a crush on her since I was a development driver".

"Why have you never said anything? She seems like she really cares about you too", Carlos mused as he thought to a few moments before where you too gqve him heart eyes. He would have to be blind to not notice it, and even then the energy between you too would still be felt.

"The timing wasn't right, I guess - her father passed away almost right after as I became a driver for Alfa Romeo, and she hasn't been in the paddock since. We have texted every now and again over the years and now she happened to be here for the race too", Charles offered.

"I'd say you should take a shot - trust me, she likes you back", Carlos patted Charles' shoulder after getting up, watching you go back to the table with a big smile on your face.

After Charles took pole position in qualifying, the team stayed a bit longer for the debrief, going over a few points of the discussion and the changes they still needed to make before the race.

"Y/N! We're having dinner at one of our favourite restaurants in town and I'm counting you in, okay?", Charles said as he spotted you in the garage, followed by Andrea, who had been keeping you company along with his brothers, Charlotte and Pascale.

"Your family is here for you, Charles, I don't want to intrude", you said as you got up, unaware of the Leclerc matriarch behind you.

"Chérie, of course you won't be intruding - we'd love to have you there!", Pascale chirped in.

"Well, in that case...!", you smiled, "just tell me where I should go and at what time, or are we going straight there?", you wondered.

"I was thinking we could go straight there if that's okay with you - you can can come with me and Andrea can ride with my brothers", Charles suggested, "unless you need to go back to the hotel", he quickly scrambled.

"No, I'm fine! Unless this outfit is not restaurant appropriate", you muttered as you looked down. Against all odds, you managed to not get any food stains on your dress. It was a midi skirt cut, flowy to allow your body to feel cool considering the warm Italian day.

"It's fine - you're fine, you look beautiful!", Charles was quick to assure you.

"Good, that's good then", you smiled before excusing yourself to go and get your things.

"You have to tell her, Charles - your affection is no use to either of you if you keept it in here", Pascale tapped her son's chest.

"Y/N", Charles called you before he had to go and get ready for the race, "I have something for you - we do", he said as some of the mechanics, including Salvatore, followed him.

"Oh, what is it?", you smiled.

"We commented with some guys back at the factory that you were here with is this weekend and they found something we thought you'd like to have", Salvatore said as he handed you a bag.

Looking inside, you noticed an old Ferrari cap and some embroidered lettering on the side, recognising it immediately. When you were a teenager, you decided to try different hobbies and hand embroidery was the one that stuck the most, so much so that on one of the race weekends, you embroidered caps for everyone on the team that asked you.

"My wife remembered the one I have at home and then the guys at Maranello found your father's and apparently one you did for Charles' as well", Salvatore offered as you took them both out.

"Dad always said he had plenty of embroidered things at home and this one was the one he had to travel with him", you chuckled as tears welled up in your eyes, feeling Charles soothingly rub your back.

"I remember getting this and loving it - I thought I had lost it!", Charles said, unaware if how close he was pulling you together so he could get a peek at the old caps.

"There's some loose string here", you chuckled, wiping the tears and fiddling with the red thread, "I didn't know how to properly tie it at the start, I kept losing it - I think I even glued it down at some point. Thank you for bringing this out", you smiled.

"Would you mind if I wore this for the driver's parade?", Charles asked you.

"I was planning on wearing my dad's while I watched the race", you offered, testing the fabric and placing it on your head before doing the same with Charles, fixing it on his head and looking up at him.

You never got over how handsome he was. The little scar on his cheek, his mole, the smile that never failed to make you smile, his beautiful green eyes. His kindness, his gentleness, his talent - there wasn't a way to deny how much you liked it. How much you liked him.

"We will be matching then!", Charles squeezed you against him before going to his driver's room.

Only when Charles was headed to take P1 on the grid did he hand the cap back to Salvatore and put on his helmet, giving you a wink before he left.

"How are you feeling?", Pascale asked as she sat next to you to watch the race. Over the last couple of days, she had grown close to you, not only because you had captured her son's heart and she wanted to get to know you, but also because Charles had told her how emotionally charged it was for you to be at the track, in Monza nonetheless.

"It's a lot", you admitted, "everyone has been so kind and warm, so all of the heavy feelings have been slowly infiltrating the good ones and it's been easier to deal with them like that", you blinked away a few tears.

"I get it", Pascale nodded, "losing someone is not easy, and I can't imagine what it feels like for you - the boys and I talk about my late husband every now and again and it gets easier to talk about it, I think that's what it is anyway".

"Yes, definitely like that. My mum and I have reached the point where we don't cry at every mention - despite what you might have noticed this weekend", you chuckled.

"It's emotional, chérie - I, for one, always cry whenever the boys achieve their goals. Hervé isn't here to see them, but I know he knows, and the boys know how proud he is of them", Pascale smiled, keeping some tears at bay too.

"You raised amazing young men, don't doubt that", you let out. At this point, you were sure she had noticed or had at least an inkling. As any mechanic for the red team who knew you since you were a kid would say, you were never a good liar - anytime you said you didn't touch something, they knew to look in your backpack first.

"Thank you, dear", she added, "you know, Charles is quite careful in who he lets in, but he's never been good at hiding how much he cares about someone and I can tell he cares a great deal about you".

"I care a lot about him too", you smiled before you were handed a pair of headphones each with the race about to start.

When Charles successfully kept the cars behind him away with a good gap, you clapped and watched the remaining laps number get smaller and smaller until there was only the current lap left.

Charlotte held your hand together with hers as you watched Charles be the first driver to see the checkered flag and when Xavi yelled "And P1!" into the radio, you did your happy dance, not having a care in the world about what others thought as you watched the Tifosi erupt in cheer.

"He did it! He did it!", Pascale clapped for her son, Arthur hugging her while Lorenzo did the same with his girlfriend while you softly touched your father's embroidered name on your cap with your fingers.

Running up to Parc Fermé, you stood in the sea of red, waiting for him to come back and hug them.

"You did so well, congratulations!", you said as you pulled Charles for a hug.

"Had my good luck charm with me!", he smiled back, kissing your cheek as he took advantage of you being shielded by the mechanics and engineers.

The team celebratory dinner was going really well, everyone happy with how the weekend panned out with both drivers on the podium and enjoying the meal on the restaurant's outside patio.

"If you guys want dessert, they're going to set them out on that table and you can grab as much as you like", Fred spread the message as you could see all kinds of sweet foods being brought out, a pudding catching your eye along with some raspberries.

You and Charles got the dessert plates and served yourselves, noticing the staff was already clearing up the tables, meaning you'd have to move to the bar area, many people opting to skip dessert and get some drinks instead.

"You can see the stars so clearly tonight", you mused as you looked up at the sky, setting your plate on the high table.

"My father always said that the stars did shine brighter here, and tonight the sky is very clear", Charles hummed in agreement, looking at your face. The moonlight and the dim lighting for the lamps and fairy lights illuminated all your features perfectly - your smile as you looked up formed the dimples on your cheeks, your eyes that were a tiny bit squinty and the way your whole body seemed relaxed.

The goosebumps on your arms caught his eye though, "here, have this", Charles said as he offered you the cardigan he had carried around all night since according to him his mother made him do it because it would be cold.

"Thanks", you smiled as you pulled the sleeves and folded them around your wrist so they would fit better, "this is really comfy, I might steal this if you don't ask for it back", you joked.

"I don't mind if you keep it, you have had my heart all these years", Charles stated. There it was.

"What?", you faced him, heart beating fast inside your chest.

"It's true, I've had a crush on you since I first met you, and these past couple of days have been amazing, and I can't believe it took me all these years to realize how I truly feel about you Y/N", he told you, no stutter or sign of regret on his face.

"I haven't been around, really, it's my fault", you fiddled with your thumbs before looking at him again, "but I can't lose you again".

"You never lost me, amour", he smiled as his eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips, his hand cupping your cheek your mouth pressed on his, ignoring everything and everyone around you.

Interrupting the kiss for air, Charles giggled as you hid your face in his neck once you heard the cheers and whistles, your lashes tickling him as his arms circled your waist and pulled you closer to him.

"He wins inside the track and outside of it, Charles Leclerc, P1 to Y/N's heart!", Carlos shouted before whistling again.

"Just so you know, I want an invite to your wedding!", Salvatore pointed his finger at you, "I still remember when you invited me for your wedding with Vettel!".

"You and Seb?", Charles chuckled once you pulled away from his neck.

"Sebastian was my favourite when I was little", you giggled, hiding your face on Charles' chest this time, "when he was back in RedBull still, I asked my father to ask him if he could take a photo with me and I cherished that for so many years - it was my most prized possession!".

"I can't promise you Seb, but I can promise you the very best of me", Charles said as he kissed the top of your head.

#charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fluff #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

321 notes · View notes