#favfics

[allwaswell16]

F a v o r i t e F i c s O f 2 0 2 4

As an ardent reader of One Direction fan fiction, 2024 has been an amazing year for fics! I read so many incredible fics this year, so please check out all my recs for the year here! Below you will find fics that brought me to tears, made me laugh, comforted me, filled me with joy, or had me yelling in my living room. I share this list with you all not to say that these fics are better than others from this year, but to say thank you to these writers who have left a mark on me with their fics.

To all our fandom's writers, thank you for the gift of your stories! Sending much love to you in the new year!

🪩 Louis / Harry 🪩

with venom on your tongue by wildestdreams / @thelavendrhaze

(E, 91k, enemies to lovers) a boarding school AU where Harry and Louis are academic rivals until they realize they’re more similar than they thought.

don't be afraid to love (and love again) by localopa / @voulezloux

(T, 83k, trans Louis) the one where louis is trans and afraid, harry is cis and brave, and being 100% yourself is easier said than done.

When the Lights Go Out by thelarenttrap / @antidotetogo

(E, 79k, F1 au) In its near eighty years of existence, Formula 1 has never had an out gay driver. In 2017, Harry Styles signs a contract with Scuderia AlphaTauri alongside his childhood friend and competitor, Louis Tomlinson. The next decade of their careers is some of the most tumultuous press--on and off the track--Formula 1 has ever seen.

I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence

(NR, 74k, soulmates) Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

A Frail Farewell by Rearviewdreamer / @all-these-larrythings

(M, 44k, famous/not famous) Louis can’t believe his luck when he is offered one of the easiest jobs he has had as a long-term house-sitter for the wealthy. Most of all he likes that there are no surprises until he gets the shock of his life from ex-pop star Harry Styles who isn’t supposed to be home.

The Things We Know To Be Wild by harryanthus_annuus / @harryanthus-annuus

(M, 39k, dragons) Louis is a London zoologist sent by the University of Highlands and Islands to assess the safety of the island of Eroda as part of the Wonder Seekers Project for sustainable tourism.

hard times in elmsmere by stylinsoncity / @aliensingucci

(M, 37k, time travel) for louis, being a full-fledged vampire complicates everything, not just his relationship with harry but with harry’s entire coven who took Louis in as an orphan.

Enough To Wish For More by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(M, 33k, The Bridges of Madison County au) Louis Tomlinson just wants a few days of peace and quiet while his family are out of state. But when he meets the lead singer of a band he’s never heard of, his life and everything he thought he knew about it changes forever.

Your Reign is Free (to give along to Santa) by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(T, 28k, humor) It’s Christmas Eve. It’s a totally normal Christmas Eve. Harry and Louis have some friends coming by, and some totally normal birthday and Christmas plans. It’s a totally typical totally normal Christmas Eve. A fic that takes place over 24 (+1) hours where surely everything will go totally to plan.

and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 27k, mystery) Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you. Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.

Rewriting the Melody by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

(T, 26k, canon divergence) Louis doesn’t get put in One Direction. This time, the path to true love takes the long way round, including singing in toilet cubicles, fruit baskets, and long distance band counselling from someone who really doesn’t know what he’s doing, he just wants to keep talking to Harry.

Sugar, Sugar by @parmahamlarrie

(E, 25k, sugar daddy Louis) Meeting your soulmate was the most joyous event of one’s life… or at least, it’s supposed to be. Harry, in all of his 25 year old wisdom, was suspicious of the role fate plays in everyone's lives. He'd rather focus his time dating older men he meets off of a sugar baby website.

Room For One More Troubled Soul by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey

(M, 25k, supernatural elements) Louis Tomlinson is the chief medical examiner of the Centre for the Law Enforcement of Supernatural Beings - more commonly referred to as simply "The Centre".

On a starlit night by @lunarheslwt

(M, 24k, omegaverse) omega and future Luna Louis is holding a mating ceremony to find his mate, but what he doesn’t expect to see amongst the alphas vying for his hand, is a familiar, yet unexpected face: Harry Styles.

Colorful Hearts by Larrysmomfics / @larrysmomfics

(M, 20k, humor) In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. 

 Behind Smoke Stained Curtains by @jaerie

(E, 19k, omegaverse) The worlds align when Louis meets an alpha from the road with as many secrets as he holds himself.

Stand on Holy Ground (series) by @wishingforloushair

(E, 17k, religion kink) Louis comes back to confess again, and Harry has an idea of how Louis can show God his devotion. 

Peeping by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom

(E, 16k, roommates) Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.

Lost But Won by @2tiedships2

(NR, 16k, omegaverse) When Harry loses his passport after a weekend trip to see Niall, the inconvenience of being stranded in America becomes a little more bearable after meeting Louis. Or a lot more bearable.

At your service, for your usage (series) by @holdingontochaos

(E, 16k, sex work) Louis is a doctor who works so much that he has barely any time to himself for pleasure, let alone to clean his house so he hires Harry as his naked maid and kills two birds with one stone.

so pull me closer, why don’t you pull me close? by @alwaysxlarrie

(M, 9k, uni) If the captain of the soccer team wants to substitute players and be Harry's partner instead... well, Harry's lemons just turned into lemon meringue pie. Who is he to argue with fate?

 and then, i wait there for you by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess

(M, 9k, established relationship) Harry has always dreamed of having his “happily ever after”, but hasn’t found the right one yet. Suddenly, he meets Louis.

never just the tip by journeytothepast / @suckerforhome

(E, 6k, omegaverse) Harry believes alphas can't control themselves. Louis proves him wrong.

Just Two Stars Passing By by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(E, 5k, omegaverse) Harry blew up on TikTok and became a fashion commentator during the pandemic. Somehow he ends up covering arrival fashion for the 2024 Euros, and somehow Louis Tomlinson already knows his name.

Good-Old Fashioned Lover Boy by not_fitzwilliam / @not-fitzwilliam-darcy

(NR, 5k, omegaverse) When a miscalculated decision leads to an accidental courtship with the sweetest, most gentle alpha, Harry is torn between breaking the alpha's heart and telling the truth. 

Pretty and Preposterous by @brightlyharry

(NR, 5k, neighbors) Harry donates a copy of Pride and Prejudice to his little free library. He never expects what comes next.

 Pussy Juice by @homosociallyyours

(M, 4k, girl direction) While she manages to dodge the bar’s “special” drink, the Pussy Juice shot, she can’t avoid the feelings that come up when her former teacher (and teen crush), Louis joins her and her friends for the night.

 That’s the way love goes by bella28

(T, 4k, soulmate goose!) In a world, where soulmate geese are sent to the people who can’t figure out who their soulmate is, Harry finds himself stuck with a goose when he is attending a concert of his favourite artist Louis Tomlinson.

Come On and Rescue Me by @kingsofeverything

(E, 3k, silver fox Louis) Louis only intends to watch his hot neighbor’s Instagram live, but he winds up with his hand down his pants.

Figure This Out by @haztobegood

(E, 2k, age difference) Louis is everything Harry could have imagined when he’d typed “silver fox enthusiast” into his Grindr profile. Too bad he's probably scared Louis off by giving him too many expensive gifts.

coming home by @seekforwarmth

(E, 2k, canon) It’s coming home, one way or another.

What’s in a Name by @hellolovers13

(T, 2k, soulmates au) Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate. The name on his arm disagreed. But what did his soulmark know about true love anyway.

 You are so gorgeous (it makes me so mad) by @dreaminrainbows

(M, 2k, pining) Louis is a hot bartender and Harry is pathetically in love with him

The Unselected Journals of Louis W. Tomlinson - Vol 1 by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(E, 1k, epistolary) The Wandering of Things was not new, nearly two years into living here. However, the, uh, nature of this particular thing was quite different.

skinny dip (in water under the bridge) by hazzahtomlinson / @itsnotreal

(G, 880 words, exes) It’s a Wednesday and nostalgia might just get the best of Louis.

can't hide from yourself by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

(M, 666 words, suspense) Harry's home alone, faced with his reflection. And something's not quite right.

🪩 Rare Pairs 🪩

Like A Force Of Nature by @reminiscingintherain

(T, 30k, Zayn/Liam) the Heartstopper AU no one asked for.

To start again by @loretheloner

(E, 27k, Louis/Michael Blackwell) Louis finds himself slowly falling for a bandmate again, despite Oli's warnings against it. Michael finds himself slowly falling for his boss and fighting against the ghost of Louis' past relationship. 

It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28

(E, 9k, Liam/Louis) the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?

Can You Feel Where the Wind Is by @fallinglikethis

(M, 3k, Zayn/Liam) He remembers arguing that he had no real power over anything, so no one would care about him, let alone try to hurt him. But that assessment had proven to be untrue today.

I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface

(E, 2k, Louis/Prince William) Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.

Skin on My Skin by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

(E, 2k, Zayn/Liam) Let me touch you where you like it Let me do it for ya

[itsnothesameasitwas]

favorite fics 7/?

sweet music playing in the dark by @cursethedaylight pairing: harry x louis word count: teen and up rating: 12.7k summary:

“Just get in.” “I don’t even know you,” Louis continues lightly, hand already inching toward the door. Harry laughs, shaking his head. “No, but I’m willing to take the risk if you are.”  Or the one where Harry wants nothing more than to hear From Eden live and Louis just needs to pay off some parking tickets”.

[lurkingrabbit]

Rewind Fic Fanart

me and a mutual where talking about our fav fics and rewind actully came up a bit - this sent me on a art spiral

thanks to @cocomere for reminding my AuAD ass about the absolute goldmine this fic was and encouraging me to share this on this site

(i used the pose from melon_soup on ticktock)

many thanks to @a-non-ymouswriter for creating such an incredible fic, it has inpired alot of my own lore in stories as well as many others hope you like it author-san !

[cillianssweet]

for everyone who's reading WGI by @cillianmurphysdimples , id like to say a few words with a readers perspective. We all are rooting for girl dad cillian. Sure. It'll be sweet and it'll be loved by everyone.

But what most people wouldn't get is that maybe she wanted to write another boy with the two teenagers already? Maybe she wanted a different storyline? maybe a girl itself.

So what ever the hell happens in the scan. Do not blame the writer because it's her story and she would do whatever the hell she wants.

[veralorraine]

favorite fan fics ♥  an unlikely doctor (by koshte) the universe needed the Doctor- that much he knew to be an absolute truth.                               the universe didn’t need him.

[shipsohard]

My Favorite Dramione Fics!

Ok so for those that asked, and for almost everybody else who did not ask for this, here are my fav dramione fics I have ever read in one sheet! Link: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/e/2PACX-1vTDiV7c9fnAMvf9-uKhNyWvHzWOod3kIAaRjiBqJPJyJYB_vy4BW21uhBODJNptooSuz28oDFsqbqfR/pubhtml

I am so sure there are so so many out there that are also great and I hope to read as many as I can one day but these are my personal favorites so far!! Also the biggest kudos to the plethora of amazing writers out there that have been writing dramione as long as I have been reading dramione (about 9 years now!!)

[one-d-library]

Escapade

Escapade by dolce_piccante  {mature, 146k, 5 chapters, fake relationship AU, slow build, side ziall, ot5 friendship + involvement, enemies to lovers, smut, sharing a bed}

In the grand scheme of things, finding a date for a wedding should be no problem for Louis Tomlinson. He's rich. He's handsome. He's reasonably well behaved. But when the wedding is for his lifelong best friend (and former boyfriend), and is happening in under a month, finding a date for the ceremony and accompanying festivities becomes more of an adventure than he ever could have planned for.

Can be found in: 

Iconic Fics 

Fav Fics 

Enemies to lovers

Fake Relationship

Sharing a bed

Playlist of the songs mentioned can be found here! 

It’s about time I finally rec’d this fic. I really enjoyed this! I see why it’s such an iconic fic in the fandom. 

The story showed great character development, for both Harry and Louis. Louis was a pretentious, stuck up corporate bozo at the start, but grew into a wonderful character. 

“Because I would rather go alone to every event for the rest of my life than pay the ghost of Mick Jagger’s youth to pretend to tolerate me”  

“Do you like golf?” “I f*ck old men for a living. Of course I love golf” 

“What’s with the all white trend?” “Babe, it’s not like you’re going to get your period”

“Invisible, inexplicable heat, like the shock of an electrical fire o the remnants of a lightning storm in humidity”

Although it says in the beginning it’s incomplete, it’s actually fully finished with an epilogue and everything, so don’t let that stop you! 

This was an amazing book, I definitely recommend it and understand why it’s so famous! Go read it! 

(not my mood board or playlist). 

[kyeri00]

damn guys not even halfway through, I'm already ascending

"Were you aware that you talk in your sleep?"

Through the haze of tiredness, Vil's voice rings clear, as it so often does. It takes a few too many blinks to will the grogginess away. But when it does, you turn on your side towards him. He's in a position mirroring your own, his form highlighted by the early morning rays of sunlight leaking in through the window behind him. Swathed in blankets that have clearly seen better days, as was typical of Ramshackle grade furnishing.

"...Good morning to you too, Vil."

He doesn't reply with any words, merely a hum of acknowledgement.

It's unfair how perfect he can look so soon after waking. Cause you know for a fact your hair is in tangles under your head. Makes you feel like a true potato, as he so calls you.

You're reminded of the circumstances behind this current arrangement as he eyes your drowsy self calmly. Turns out, even after renovations, Ramshackle is still ramshackle. It only took one flop onto your bed for the legs holding up the bedframe to give out entirely. The sound had attracted the whole VDC squad, so they got to bare witness to probably one of the most embarrassing moments of your life. Well, Ace made certain that it was, at least.

Originally content to sleep on a slightly shorter than usual bed, Vil had been quite adamant on not letting you. Something about bugs and possibilities of them infesting the mattress. It didn't really matter to you, but somehow you found yourself in his room. Rather, one of your guest rooms. And that was where you still were, letting him eye you down like a product on display.

"...Something on my face?"

"Yes, drool."

Nice to know that Vil's charm was present every hour of the day.

"...What was this about me talking in my sleep?" You try to nonchalantly swipe a hand over your mouth, but it fails spectacularly. Nothing gets past this man.

"You mumble all sorts of nonsense." He looks like a Renaissance painting as he brushes a stray lock from his eyes, tucking it elegantly behind his ear. "I nearly thought you were awake at first, talking to yourself."

"Yes, cause that's totally what one does first thing in the morning. Talk to themself."

The sleepiness has clearly made you overly confident. If the glare he levels you is anything to go by.

"Notice how I said 'nearly.' Meaning I didn't actually think you were. Does the morning dim your wit more than normal?"

"...For someone so insistent on getting me in your bed, you're rather snappy."

"Why I never." That comment gets him riled enough to sit up. You feel tiny as he stares daggers down at you where you continue to lie. In your puddle of disarray, while he's somehow runway ready at the ass crack of dawn.

"How can you look like a Greek god first thing in the morning?" Oh, so you've decided to voice your thoughts out loud. Ok, cool, that's totally what you wanted to do. Totally.

You watch as his anger morphs into confusion. "Greek god?"

"Oh," that's right. That's a 'your world' thing, isn't it. "A reference from back home, don't worry about it."

"Hmph," he grunts. Well, you'd hardly call it a grunt. Vil wouldn't do something as barbaric as grunt. It was more like a delicate, posh scoff. But, he no longer looks as mad as he did before, so you guess it was a good thing you decided to voice your inner musings aloud. "Does this 'Greek god' happen to have flawless skin, gorgeous hair, and impeccable taste?"

You don't want to answer him, cause you know where this is going. But, again, nothing escapes the notice of this man. You're forced to watch his lips curl up into an infuriately hot smug grin.

"From your face, I assume so. It's kind of you to notice the obvious."

You're very well awake by now, but you still roll your eyes. You may lowkey highkey fear this man, but nothing could've held that reaction back.

"Yeah, well, they're also incredibly abnormal. Cause the rest of the population doesn't typically wake up looking like a supermodel."

"If you think I'm a supermodel now, then you must think I'm ethereal on a day to day."

You do nothing but grumble as you shuffle to sit up, rubbing sleep from your eyes while pointedly ignoring how he practically preens next to you. When you instinctually card a hand through your hair, instead of it catching on knots like you expect, it goes right through.

"It's the pillow case."

Again, the bastard reads your expression like a book and promptly comments on it.

"Satin is good for both the skin and the hair."

You're tempted to call him extra, cause who brings their own pillow case to someone else's house? But the way your hair feels, how it's free from its typical morning tangles, shuts you up.

You chance a glance up and see him. Head turned towards you, knees bent below covers, an elbow rested over top, chin held in the palm of his hand, haloed still by the rising sun. With an elegant quirk of a brow and an expression equal parts amused and fond.

There is... something running laps in your chest. Begging to be acknowledged. To be known.

"...If you're fishing for another compliment, you'll find that I've reached my daily quota."

You swing your legs over the side of the bed as you hear him click his tongue. And no, it's not running away, but it sort of feels like it is.

"I'll go and make myself presentable before starting on breakfast. You said we needed more protein, right? I was thinking I could make omelets━"

"A shame, really."

You have no clue how he moved so silently, but he was suddenly next to you and unapologetically in your space. Brushing hair behind your ear like he was born to. Walking the small distance around to your front so you could see the pleased smile upon his lips and knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Damn him, you can't help but internally curse as goosebumps form where his fingers had grazed. Nothing gets past him, and especially not you.

"I was so hoping for a few more compliments. Because I certainly haven't reach my needed quota."

[mcuspidey-archive]

fav fics | moodboard series ;

↠ dare you to move by @starksparker — fwb!roommate!tom holland x reader ᪥ friends with benefits is supposed to be just that. friends with the benefits of fooling around and not having anything more than platonic feelings. easy, fun, thrilling, no one gets hurt...right?

[fuchsiasea]

[Favorite Fics 17/?]

title: For As Long As I Can Remember (It’s Been December)

author: @greenfeelings

summary:

After recovering from a severe accident that causes Harry to lose his memory of three years, he moves to London to start his life over as a star chef. Little does he know that when he falls in love with Louis at first sight, it’s not the first time they meet.

Featuring an unintentional game of hot and cold, Harry chasing memories that won’t come back, Louis burying himself in work to try and forget what he can’t forget, Liam being torn between two of his best friends, Zayn as a moral compass and Niall saving the day with good music and brutal honesty.

words: 110k

[wclvesvshearts]

favorite fanfic scenes in no particular order → stay in place (sing a chorus)

“The rain,” Tyler says. Josh nods, slowly. “It’s like…” Tyler pauses, searching for the word. “Crisper,” Josh says. “Exactly,” Tyler says, nodding. “Almost like…” Josh frowns, “red? Maybe?” “Mostly,” Tyler says. “With a hint of orange.” “Orange, right.” Josh points at Tyler. “That’s right. I keep forgetting that one.” “A lot of things are orange, though,” Tyler says, frowning. “Not where I’m from,” Josh says darkly. “Everything’s just blue-black there.” Tyler winces. “I can’t even imagine that.” “Don’t,” Josh says firmly. He shakes his head. “Don’t even try.”

[ultravioilence]

#bro….. #best carmy fix I’ve ever read I am Foaming at the mouth #favfics

more, more, more — carmy x reader

carmen berzatto x coworker!reader

listen to me. this man? this man?? so fucking slutty. so fucking slutty i can’t even think straight. i am absolutely AGHAST at how little writing there is of this man online. absolutely OUTRAGEOUS. he looks like that and none of us have done his character justice?? DISGRACEFUL.

i wrote this in direct response to how angry i am at how little there is.

as always, warnings… SMUT!, alcohol consumption, alcohol consumption with sex, smoking, p in v penetration, work relationships, overstimulation, carmen berzatto being an absolute mind blowing fuck on a table i mean in bed

also, minors fuck RIGHT the fuck off

barely edited we die like men

i stole that joke don’t come for me

anyway....

you didn’t really know how it happened.

you were once an unemployed law student, scared of drowning in bills, and eagerly awaiting a call back from anyone that would hire you — when she called.

natalie berzatto.

her voice was warm and comforting on the phone, and very eager to have you come in. she was relaying important information to you on the phone, and while you grabbed bits and pieces, it was hard to focus on anything else besides the sheer excitement of finally having a job. the job would be stressful, sure — but at least you wouldn’t be broke and stressed.

unfortunately, your first couple of shifts were a mess and a half. you took instructions well, and performed well, but in the hospitality business — that means nothing when an oven burner is out, a dishwasher doesn’t show up for a shift, richie starts barking, or when carmen’s upset.

carmen.

fucking carmen.

while soft spoken, there was nothing that could compare to the look of approval in his eye when you had completed a task to his standard. most people would consider the job of a hostess useless, or not a job at all — something to laugh at, but carmen? no. that man took your job very seriously, as he knew what it meant to provide the full experience to the customer.

however, when something was lacking in the kitchen and that experience was interrupted… carmen took the look of approval, almost gratefulness, away and replaced it with something that everyone felt like they had to walk around shards of glass.

when he was angry? oh, fuck… that could ruin anyone’s night.

the worst of it happened when his sister unexpectedly went into labor. two weeks early.

carmen had left the place screaming, and, in the process, had also left his things at the restaurant, including his jacket, wallet, keys, the lot — so to be nice you went to drop it off at his place. worried that he might be at the hospital, you texted him.

you: hey, going out for a drink. saw you forgot your stuff at the restaurant so i grabbed it because you’re otw. you home?

carmen: oh shit thanks. i’m home

so there you stood. at his front door, his stuff in hand.

you quickly adjusted your long hair, worried about your appearance. it was weird to show up to carmen’s place in your regular attire — seeing as though your regular attire on a night with your friends was black flare jeans, a tight black long sleeve v-neck that showed off your cleavage — you were concerned that he might be concerned with who he exactly employed. however, his niece was just born… he had more important things to worry about.

so you knocked.

and barely waited.

carmen was barely at the door a few seconds later before you came face to face with the man who constantly let exhaustion ride on his back.

“you good?” you immediately asked, handing over his stuff.

he nodded. “yeah, uh — thanks.”

“you look like you could use a drink,” you laughed. “want to come with?”

he shook his head, the corners of his lips somewhat curving upwards. “nah. day was hectic. you want one? come in — for a drink?”

you smiled. “i don’t want to intrude, especially after the berzatto family excitement of the day.”

“i owe you,” he sighed. “but don’t let me hold you up if your friends are waiting.”

you smiled. “one drink won’t hurt.”

one drink definitely did not hurt.

drink two and three definitely didn’t, either.

how much carmen made you laugh definitely made your stomach hurt, though. in a good way.

“you’re killing me,” you cackled. “who knew quiet carmen berzatto was such a good host.”

“you can call me carmy, y’know,” he spoke, saying his cigarette before pouring you another drink. “everyone else does.”

you shrugged. “you’re pretty professional in the kitchen. didn’t want to impose.”

“i don’t think you could impose a day in your life,” he chuckled. “i think you’re the only one that knows boundaries in that fuckin’ place.”

“says the mysterious one,” you giggled. “the only reason any of us know your nicknames is because richie likes to share your baby stories.”

“speaking of babies…” he took a drag. “thank you for helping sugar out so much. she told me to tell you how much she appreciates it.”

you shrugged. “‘s nothing.”

“nothing?” he scoffed. “you keep her sane. definitely keep me sane.”

“always got your back, chef,” you giggled.

he smiled, and ashed his cigarette once more. his long, thick fingers stretched around the circumference of his glass. one fingertip tapped against the glass and a few droplets of condensation fell to his countertop.

you were twisted around in your seat to face carmen, eyeing his attractive hands. in your peripheral vision, you saw him lift his head to cock it towards you and stare at you. the longing look sent shivers up your spine, but you gazed at him through your long lashes as you waited for his response.

“you do,” he spoke. “always have. we were lucky to find you. i - i was, i mean.”

“more like i was lucky get a call from natalie,” you laughed. “it’s so hard to find a well paying job nowadays.”

“heard,” he rasped. “you happy at the bear?”

“very,” you replied. “staff keeping you happy, chef?”

he chuckled. “when i’m not made to scream, yeah.”

“that’s fair. we’re lucky to have you.”

there was only so many things you could think of to say to carmen before you began to consider that you were imposing. you slapped your hands against your thighs — a implicit signal it was time for you to go. he led you to the door, where he reached out for your coat. you smiled at him, thanked him for the drink, and slid your arms through the jacket as he held it out for you.

you don’t know what caused you to, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was you — or maybe it was how good carmen smelled — but you glanced up and over your shoulder at the polite man behind you.

you didn’t have anything to say. frankly, you said something last — it was his turn. however, carmen’s sense of societal expectations started and ended with the door to the kitchen. but there, by his front door? basically holding you by the shoulders, and staring back down at you? he had nothing to say.

however… his eyes could share a thousand things about him. more specifically, emotions. carmen’s eyes showed exhaustion, a bit of dehydration, to keep it a buck, but there was so much intensity in those crystal irises. they were a stunning, clear blue… but with the way carmen was gazing down at you, there appeared to be no clear thought in his head.

and he did nothing.

so you could do nothing.

you found yourself disappointed at his actions, or rather — lack thereof.

you simply smiled, and went to turn away. you reached for his door knob, when you felt the slightest brush of calloused fingers against the skin of your wrist. the feeling shocked you, pricking at your nerves, but you didn’t stop until you felt those fingers enclose around the circumference of your wrist.

like they had with the glass, moments ago.

you turned back, letting your long and thick eyelashes ghost over your line of sight. all you could see was a frozen chef, standing tired, but staring back at you.

when his gaze fell to the floor, you stepped closer. he glanced up.

you felt the heat rise to your cheeks as you softly asked, “what’s up, carmy?”

“first time i had someone over.” his parted lips closed so he could swallow, and his eyes drifted between your lips and the floor. the words were right there, on his tongue. they were so close you could feel them, taste them. he replied, “i, um… don’t want it to end, uh — i guess.”

you smiled and turned around in place, barely inches from his face. his breaths were pushing past his lips in small, light puffs that hit the tip of your chin. it was like he was conscious of everything he was emitting; his vibe, where he was looking, even his fucking exhales. he was cautious and frozen and all you wanted was for him to be relaxed, or as close to, as he was moments ago.

“already drank you out of house and home, carmy. what else you got in mind?”

his eyes widened, but his voice stayed level. “what else i got in mind?”

you hummed in agreement with a coy smile on your face. you folded your lip between your teeth and stepped backwards. carmy glanced at your hips and feet hesitantly, shifting his weight slightly. while his eyes were trained on you, his parted lips quivered slightly which told you that there was still some nervousness lingering in him. with every step you took, carmy took one as well. you kept stepping backwards, and carmy kept stepping forwards, until your back was pressed against the wall.

carmy’s lips weren’t slightly quivering anymore. there was no hesitation in his figure when he leaned down slightly and rested a flat palm against the drywall above your head. his breath was hitting you on both cheeks — as if they weren’t hot enough already. inside you were screaming. you were screaming, and screaming, and screaming and all you wanted to do was grab both sides of his face and smash your lips to his. you wanted to, but you wouldn’t. you wanted to see if he would.

“you know,” you spoke, raising your back. your cold palm pressed against his cheek. it was burning — almost as bad as yours. “even though you’re the boss… never seen you actually taste anything.”

“no?” he rasped. the gruffness in his voice pricked at your cheeks and went straight to your core. “and what do you want me to taste, sweetheart?”

you released your grip from his cheek and brought your hand down to your face. with a manicured nail, you tapped the plumpness of your bottom lip. you stared into his eyes — a dare.

“fuck.”

with his free hand, carmen wrapped your hand in his own and pressed it to the middle of his chest. he held it there, pressed against his heart, and surprisingly it was the exact spot you wanted to hold him. you wanted to hear — no, feel his heart that was beating slightly faster than normal. when carmen finally pressed his chapped lips against yours… you saw stars.

the alcohol coursing through your veins made you melt into the man before you. his hand on the wall slid down until he was rubbing the side of your neck, and then gripping the base of your skull. his fingers, his beautiful, skillful fingers threaded through your hair like it was one of his pieces of art and he was creating something. he twisted your strands until he had your head bent back, practically supported by the heavy palm of his hand. the motion made you gasp into his mouth. carmen swallowed it whole. every. last. bit.

“y’taste so fuckin’ sweet,” he moaned against your lips.

you hummed with him. the warmth of his body engulfed your body into his until the moment started and ended with carmen anthony berzatto. you could taste the liquor on his tongue that danced with your own. with every breath he took, bits of smoke would linger between the two of you. it went straight to your head, swallowing your senses whole. you didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the cigarettes, or carmen himself, but you felt like you were swimming.

“this okay, sweetheart?” he asked, pulling away for a second. a thumb of his stroked the skin of your cheek as he stared at you, waiting for feelings of regret from you. “d-do you want me to stop?”

“please don’t stop, carmy,” you gasped, pulling him back into. “you’re perfect.”

you didn’t expect that would make carmen slide his hands down your body and grasp the back of your thighs. his fingertips pressed into your skin, pulling your legs up and around his waist. you squealed against his teeth and couldn’t believe you had found yourself in this situation.

it’s not that carmen wasn’t handsome, no. the man was drop dead gorgeous in a tortured artist way, and you always had a thing for men that looked like they needed a hug but wouldn’t admit it. but… he was your boss.

what could you do about that? it’s not like you could stop now. even if you had told him to stop, got your shit and left — the damage was done. you both had crossed the boundaries, and you were going to reap what you sewed.

in that case… might as well have a little fun with it.

he had placed you on a neighboring table. his large hands gripped the flesh of your thighs and you couldn’t help but whine into his embrace. his tongue glided over your lips and teeth and with your tongue in the messiest way possible and all you could chant in your head was more, more, more.

and that’s when you found yourself pulling at the bottom of his t-shirt.

he stepped back slightly, throwing his shirt over his head. his swollen lips were parted, and his eyes searched your face. you found your chest rising and falling with anticipation, and realized you should’ve been more concerned with how he was dealing with all of this.

“you okay, carmy?” you whispered.

he nodded, letting a few fingertips of his ghost over the skin of your cheek. his crystal eyes glanced down to your lips.

“we can stop, you know,” you whispered again. “it’s okay.”

he nodded again before dipping his head down to the side of your neck. his plump lips left wet kisses on the sensitive skin and you moaned into the open air. you widened the space between your knees, allowing for carmen to wedge himself between your thighs.

“you’re always talking such good care of me, sweetheart, so good to me,” he rasped against your throat, sucking on the skin. “but all i want to do right now is have my fingers inside you. y’gonna let me?”

“yes, carmy,” you whined. “yes please.”

“such a polite girl f’me.” carmy’s mouth was attacking your throat. moans escaped passed your lips like carmy was squeezing them from you, claiming them. his fingers traveled down the front of your clothes and stopped at the button of your jeans. sliding it open, carmen berzatto slipped his perfect hands into your jeans.

“right there, please,” you gasped once his fingers found your bundle of nerves.

his fingers dipped into your core and spread it all over where you needed him most. warmth began to spread through your hips and your knees widened for him. his drew circles different ways until he noticed that when he drew counterclockwise circles, you bit your lip and your eyes appeared to involuntarily flutter shut. you felt carmy smirk against the skin of your neck.

“what made you this wet, baby?” he hummed, sucking at the base of your throat.

“you, carmy,” you whined. “felt it as soon as i saw you when i first walked in. needed you so badly.”

he smirked again. “so bringing my things wasn’t of the purest intentions?”

heat rose to your cheeks with the sensual actions that were taking place below the belt and carmy’s accusation. you grew worried at what he would say if you said no, that you honestly just wanted to help him out… but if carmy wanted to play like that, you could play.

“n-no,” you whined as the pleasure began to spread throughout your whole body.

carmy was holding you so close to him. it was like he was your support — supporting you through such a physically vulnerable moment. your legs were practically shaking at this point, trying to take everything he was giving you and not start sobbing. you were grabbing at any piece of him you, wanting to kiss him — but he wouldn’t let you. fucking bastard.

“good,” he stated, staring you dead in the eyes. your mouth fell open at his response, a pant pushing passed your lips. “i don’t have the purest of intentions when i do this.”

carmen berzatto slid two long, thick fingers inside you ever so slowly. the motion pulled small moans out of you like you were a pathetic mess of a puddle and the sun rose and set with him. you felt his fingertips press against the upper wall inside you, while another finger worked at your clit, and all you could do was hold onto him tighter.

“it feels so good, carmy,” you whined. “i love your fingers so, so much.”

“yeah, baby?” he breathed against your ear. “you wanna cum f’me?”

“faster, please, i will,” you sobbed. you fucking sobbed as the tapping motion inside you hastened. “oh god — oh my fucking god —“

“that’s it, sweetheart? that’s what you needed?”

“yes, yes — fucking — fuck — yes.”

“f-fuck —“ he groaned broken, incoherent phrases against your throat. his breath was hot and heavy on your skin and all you could think about was how good he felt inside of you, and also how badly you wanted all of him inside you. interrupting your thoughts, he spoke, “show me how good it feels, baby. finish all over my fingers f’me.”

that broke you.

that fucking broke you.

it was like a shock of lightning hit you straight in your core and the power from the strike spread throughout your entire body. every muscle of yours went taut as you arched your chest into carmy’s.

with his expert hands, he fucked you through the orgasm. “that’s it, baby. that’s it. keep cumming for me.”

it was like carmen berzatto knew everything to say to make you shatter. you couldn’t even breathe — all you could do was give into the spreading feeling of bliss and hold your breath while it washed over you. it was wave, after wave, after wave of mind-numbing orgasm and carmen held you through all of it.

“pretty girl.”

“i know, baby. you’re such a sweet girl f’me.”

“that’s it, sweetheart. take it.”

once the waves finished hitting you, your chest was rising and falling heavily. carmen peppered light kisses along your neck, being gentle as to your state, but you were having none of it. you reached for his belt.

“greedy.”

you smiled lazily at him. “any objections, chef?”

he smirked at you, letting his fingers ghost over your sensitive core. a shiver ran up and down your spine at the almost painful action. “be careful — or i’ll make you cum again.”

you knew he wasn’t joking. you let out a slight giggle before you dragged the zipper and his boxers down. freeing his cock, you pumped his shaft.

carmy was once dominantly kissing your neck and whispering mean things in your ear, but now he was using the crook of your neck to support his forehead.

“you have such a pretty cock, carmy,” you whispered in his ear. there was something so comforting about being intimate with a man where you both could be vulnerable, and you weren’t sure if you would ever let it go. you want him everywhere he would let you have him. “i don’t know if i want it in my mouth or inside me more.”

he chuckled at that, crooning back into your embrace when you would touch a very sensitive part of him. “dirty girl — you’re so fuckin’ evil.”

you were worried the friction was becoming too much for him, but you didn’t want to raise your hand to your own lips, so you swiped some of the juices from your core and used it to lubricate the skin of carmy’s cock. it was a quick motion — you didn’t think he’d notice, and plus his eyes were most likely closed.

but when he spoke, you froze.

“do-do that again.” his voice was rough with lust. “do that again for me.”

you were hesitant at first, but you decided to make a show of it. you slowly dragged two fingers up the length of your slit and rubbed a very slow circle around the circumference of your clit. you gasped at the sensitivity, slightly jumping at the touch.

“fuck, that’s hot,” he groaned, breath humid on your neck.

you smirked at his response and reached for his cock. your hand slipped along the smooth skin of his cock, drawing a deep groan from carmen. the poor man was so sensitive — almost aching from what giving everything he had to you previously felt like.

“so big, carmy,” you breathed. “so big and pretty.”

“y’know what would be prettier?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your jaw line. “watching you put it inside you. can you do that, baby?

you smiled at him devilishly. carmy’s hands shoved the rest of your jeans down your legs and flung them somewhere in the room. your pussy was aching — dripping for the man before you. the sensitivity had left you, no longer prickling at your nerve endings. all that was left was the want for more — anything carmy had to give you.

“please,” you whined, rubbing the head of his cock against your glistening folds.

“i love when you beg f’me,” he groaned. “such a good fuckin’ girl.”

both of your lines of sight drifted down to the view of your hips. you both watched in awe as you lined carmy up with your entrance as he pushed his hips towards you.

the throws of passion and want for carmy were intense, sure — but so was the want to enjoy this while he could. he pushed in the tip of his cock, groaning slightly as your tight hole encased him. you whines at the barely filled feeling — so empty, needing more. carmy, however? carmy didn’t care. he wanted to feel every push and pull of your muscles between your hips.

carmy kept his eyes turned down at your pussy and you swallowed more and more of him inside you. he gripped the flesh of your waist, fingertips digging into you. your own hands were splayed our flat against the cool countertop of the table — a direct juxtaposition of the boiling feeling that electrified the top of every inch of your skin. you whined as carmy took his time with his thrusts, pulling back every so often when he felt resistance, and then pushing back in ever so slightly, yet slightly farther, each time.

“please, more,” you gasped, folding your lip between your teeth. “i want all of you.”

“baby isn’t patient, huh?” he asked, continuing with his motions. “gotta have it all, when you want it?”

“i can’t be teased right now,” you sobbed. it was pathetic how needy you were, but fucking christ did it turn carmy on.

“this what you want, baby?” he asked, pushing into you deeper.

your walls were squeezing him like he was the only thing that existed to you. the burn at your entrance was something so bittersweet, something so delicious — you didn’t know how you were going to keep control and make this special for him as well, let alone how you weren’t going to cum right then. but you didn’t care — you didn’t have the strength to care.

“yes, carmy — please,” you begged, bucking your hips into him weakly. “fuck — your cock feels so good.”

“yeah, baby?” he pressed into deeper. “so impatient you can’t handle it slow?”

“i want you to fuck me, carm,” you bit with lust dripping from every word. “fuck me — use me however you want — please.”

fuck.

that set him off.

carmy was a patient and low maintenance man, sure, out of necessity and convenience mostly. however, when he had the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, with a dirty mouth to match, talking back to him, and begging him to be selfish?

fuck patience. fuck ease. and fuck being selfless.

carmen’s grip tightened on your waist, and he pushed the last parts of his cock inside you.

it immediately hit you right where you needed him — that soft, sensitive spot so deep that barely anyone before him could dream of reaching. your walls gripped the smooth skin of his cock and you screamed. you fucking wailed when he finally pounded into you painfully, but so fucking sweetly.

“dirty — fucking — girl,” he grunted, thrusting upwards into your pussy.

there was nothing like the sight of carmy finally taking what he wanted. no expression of shame, or guilt, or hesitation on his face — just a man, slightly bent over before you, inside of you, holding you so close to him because, in that moment, you could give him what he wanted — needed. and, in that moment, all he needed was you.

the side of his face was pressed against yours, breathing heavily into your ear. the few groans he let escape his throat were guttural — almost animalistic. they went straight to your core, practically flooding around his cock. your whines of pleasure forced his hips forward and back faster and harder with each motion. balancing your weight and carmy’s with a firm hand of yours behind you on the table, you clamped your free hand on the back of his neck. you twisted a few stray strands of his hair around your fingers, tugging at them. every thrust caused you to pull his hair, him, closer and harder into you.

“laythefuckdown,” he spat, to your surprise.

the command startled you, sure — but it also made you bite your lip in anticipation. he pressed a wet, heavy kiss to your cheek, throwing butterflies in your lower stomach, as you released him. before you could lay down, he stopped you.

“you want to give me what i want, baby?” he whispered against your lips.

you nodded, gazing at him with dark, lust filled eyes.

“then i want your pussy to finish around my cock,” he stated. “think you can do that f’me?”

“y-yeah,” you replied, shakily, but full of trust.

you laid down and carmy regained his footing at the end of the table, keeping his cock pressed firmly inside you as he stood above you. his cock twitched against your most sensitive spot inside you, and you whined at the new angle. he gripped one of your hips firmly, but let his other hand ghost up your glistening lips.

“such a pretty fucking pussy,” he rasped, gazing at it. “takes my cock so well. but right here…”

he pressed his thumb against your clit.

you would’ve jumped if his hand wasn’t keeping you locked to the table.

“this is what i want,” he spat. “so fucking pretty.”

he began rubbing rough, fast circles on your clit. your legs were shaking from the overstimulation, and you thought you could cry from the sensation. your back arched off the table, and your hands struggled to find something to grip — to balance you as carmy tortured you.

but then his cock started working itself back into you again, hitting that spot that needed him so badly.

“think you can cum like this, baby?” he asked, taunting you. “be a good girl for me, yeah?”

“yes — !” you groaned, reaching for the end of the table with one hand. grabbing it, you tried to steady yourself, but it was no use. not with carmy. “fuck — it’s so much — it’s too much carmy —“

“gonna cum for me, sweetheart?”

you threw your head up to stare at the man. he was rocking into you like that was the only thing he knew, fucking you like it was the only thing he wanted, but there was so much focus on his eyes. so much focus on you.

“gonna give me what i want?”

“yes, yes,” you were nodding your head so pathetically, so sweetly for him. tears were practically threatening to spill over the corners of your eyes, but they glistened at him, and only him, and god did it fuck with him. “please, carmy — let me cum for you.”

“do it,” he ordered. “fuck, baby — cum for me.”

your hips were bucking against his pelvis and his hand, too erratic for him to be precise like he wanted to. you were chasing his fingertips, chasing the orgasm that even in his selfish state he was so generous to give. whines left your throat involuntarily as the intensity in your lower abdomen grew, and grew, and grew. your eyes were screwed shut as you pushed yourself to your elbows, holding yourself up as you couldn’t help but curl into yourself. carmen may have been looking at you, or something else — it didn’t matter. all you saw was the black of your eyelids, until is was white.

white. pure white.

your finger nails dug into the meat of your palms as the heat spread from your womb to the entirety of your body. every nerve ending and hair rose to the highest point of height they could, and you held your breath. the feeling of immense pleasured you washed over you — wave after wave, after wave, after wave. it hit you, it crashed into you, it fucking drowned you — it swallowed you whole until you were gasping for air. your orgasm was violent — practically mine splitting. you were shaking. you were sensitive beyond belief, beyond repair — and the prickling feeling wouldn’t stop. you were gasping for air as you looked down, only to find carmy’s hand still working between your thigh.

still rubbing those fucking circles.

“c-carmy,” you sputtered, tears wet in the corner of your eye. “please — i c-can’t.”

“shhh,” he whispered. “just keep cumming, baby. just keep cumming for me.”

your chest split open at that, throwing you back against the table top. shivers went up and down your spine as you took carmy’s torture.

“that’s it, baby. that’s it.”

his words were music to your ears as you screamed for him.

“ohh, fucking shit — that’s it —“ he hissed. “just like that. take it all for me — oh, fuck.”

you were dazed and confused on carmy’s table, basically seeing stars. absolutely useless, fucked out beyond words. you felt the weight and warmth of carmy’s body lean over, and rest against yours, as his hips sloppily rocked into you.

you wrapped your legs around the middle of carmy’s back, locking him in place. one hand went to clamp on the back of his head, and the other pressed against the side of his cheek.

against his lips, you whispered, “cum for me, carmy, please. i want to feel you inside of me.”

“good — fucking —“ he grunted, pressing his lips to yours in a farm, hard kiss as he shook. carmy’s tongue shoved itself into your mouth, and down your throat. carmy was everywhere — so deep in every part of you. you hummed with each moan of his you swallowed, rocking your hips against his and rocking him through his orgasm. gasps left his lips as he gripped any part of you he could, doing anything he could to hold onto you and keep you in place.

“holy f-fucking shit,” he gasped against your cheek, pressing kisses to your cheek and the length of your neck. “that — that was — it was so —“

“i know,” you spoke, giggling slightly.

carmy laid his head against your collarbone and you weaved his wet curls around your fingers. he rested fully against you, completely relaxed.

“fuck your friends,” he mumbled. “stay here tonight — as long as, um — you want to, that is.”

your giggle hummed in your chest. carmy’s confidence leaving him in the middle of the sentence surprised you slightly, but not enough to leave you unamused. “‘m not imposin’?”

he chuckled at that, and pulled you up from the table and into his arms. "fuck off."

-----

lmk what you think :) love yall -L

[one-d-library]

too good to be true

too good to be true by tatu28 @tatu28​

{mature, 153k, 7 chapters, angst, slow paced, soulmate stuff honestly,

message me for trigger warnings

 if you feel as if you need them}

you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you. the one where louis doesn't eat, harry doesn't function and all they need is each other.

or: two lonely boys trying to heal each other is love.

Can be found in:

Fav Fics 

Iconic Fics

October 2020 Fic Rec (to be written)

Hurt/Comfort

Longer Fics (2)

Small Town AU

more fic recs can be found here! | my twitter

I am very easily in love with this story.

I wrote down my thoughts as I was reading, this is what I came up with: 

“this is a f**king masterpiece

**an hour later**: “just a f**king perfect masterpiece”

Clearly, I was so overwhelmed by this novel. It is so much more than just a simple fic, it is so incredibly delicately and powerfully written. There is a perfect characterization of Harry and Louis, and the emotions they develop. I can’t put into words how much I love this, so here are some amazing quotes from the talented author. 

“They don’t say anything, only stare at each other’s eyes, the precious place where all the universe’s answers have been hiding all along.” 

“Your love doesn’t take me to heaven, it brings me back to myself, keeping me sane, and I’ll never be able to thank you enough for it. I’ll spend my forever trying to.” 

!!!! “She may trick herself into believing that she’s safe from reality, but she is just stuck with her own mind, locked in an unescapable cell with her own memories. She lives in her personal purgatory, both the victim and the punisher, paying alive for her sins.” !!!!!

“For now, Harry’s eyes are fixated on Louis with so much attention and wonder that Louis feels warm everywhere. When he looks like this, all apprehensive and golden, he puts the sun to shame.”

!!!! “I suffocate on memory petals knowing there’s more flowers in my lungs now than it will ever be on my grave” !!!!

 I believe it deserves the same recognition that Young & Beautiful and Tired Tired Sea receive. Truly, go give this a read. Although it is slower paced it builds up perfectly, so keep reading, the ending will have you distraught but amazed.  

I’m yet to find a fic that I love as much as this. 

~

more fic recs can be found here! | my twitter

[mcuspidey-archive]

fav fics | moodboard series ;

2am by @sunshinehollandd — costars! tom holland x reader ❈ when you can’t sleep in the middle of the night, you find yourself in your costars room.

[verityjade]

Fic rec again! I absolutely LOVE this one! Like I loved it as much as Double Edged, these are top Kakasaku for me. I loved them so much I sent them to my Husband to read when he was on deployment last year and we both gushed about them.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148632/chapters/27566097

The Chemicals Between Us is hands down a fav. I’ve read and re read this. I want to print it out and bind it, it’s that good. I love Alien and her Kakasaku writing so much. Where Double Edged got me into fanfic, I’d say that this one here made me want to write my own.

Externally grateful for Alien writing this awesomeness 😍

[cheappackofcigerattes]

Oh to be able to read this again for the first time!!!

#favfic #hs #omg #screamingcryingthrowingup

WILDEST FANTASIES (part 1)

⚫️A/N: alright, i couldn't hold myself back any longer so HERE IT IS!!! i am so stoked for this story, i can't wait to read your reactions, im very nervous and excited and AHHH!!!

⚫️PAIRING: Professor!Harry X Reader

⚫️WARNING: sexual content

⚫️WORD COUNT: 6k

SERIES MASTERPOST

“Oh my God, are you still working on that assignment?”

Ramona, one of your roommates walks out of her bedroom with an empty mug and plate, her boyfriend’s hoodie is swallowing her slim figure, her hair in a not too picturesque messy bun on top of her head as she makes her way to the kitchen sink. You’re perched up on a stool at the small kitchen island, a blanket thrown over your shoulders as you stare at the practically empty document in front of you. Over the course of the last two hours you only typed your name and two whole lines out. So that’s basically nothing.

Groaning you let your head smash against the keyboard as Ramona washes her dishes.

“This is bullshit, Ram. I took this class because I thought it would be an easy few credits and I like writing, but now it’s totally kicking my ass!” you whine, sitting up and deleting the letters your forehead hit into the document. For a moment you think about leaving it there, even turning it in. It would definitely be better or at least more than what you could come up with.

Ramona dries her hands and turns to face you, folding her arms over her chest she leans against the counter chewing on her bottom lip.

“What do you have to write about, again?”

“I have to write the first chapter of the story I worked on throughout the semester. You know, the one I told you about.”

“The boy and the fish?” she cocks her head to the side.

“Yes. But it was easier to just theorize about it than to actually write it,” you sigh with a pained grimace, the empty document practically laughing at you on the screen of your laptop.

“Can’t you write about something else?”

“No, unfortunately I can’t. God, I’m regretting ever taking this class,” you growl, shutting your laptop, not able to take the mocking you’re getting from it right now.

“Oh come on, you surely don’t regret seeing Professor Sexy every week,” Ramona laughs teasing.

“Right now, I wish nasty things upon Professor Sexy,” you sigh, though the thought of him definitely chases your anger away a bit.

“I think about doing nasty things to him too,” she sighs dreamily and you gasp dramatically.

“Ramona! Does your boyfriend know you’re fantasizing about my Creative Writing professor?”

“Y/N, I’m convinced even Dean fantasizes about him!” she scoffs, making the both of us laugh.

Professor Harry Styles is definitely by far the hottest teacher on campus. But he would be the best-looking even if you took the students as well. Beside Creative Writing he teaches Language and Linguistics, International Fiction and your absolute favorite, the class women basically kill each other to get into: Women Writers.

He is nothing like the macho men in town that think they can get any woman they want. Because Professor Styles could actually get any woman he wants. With his six feet, fit figure, rocking several tattoos and probably even more under his oddly styled outfits, painted nails and many rings he sports every day, he surely has every women on campus wrapped around her fingers. Walking around you often catch conversations between girls, daydreaming about the professor and you can always relate to them, because you tend to do the same.

If any other male professor were to teach Women Writers, females in school would be rioting against it, but not when it comes to Professor Styles. The man is basically part of the females which kind of just adds to his unbearable sex appeal. You didn’t exclusively decide to take one of his classes just to stare at him for one and a half hours every week, but it’s definitely a plus.

“Alright, what do you have so far?” Ramona asks, grabbing a pack of crackers from the cupboards as she leans onto the kitchen island across from you. Opening your laptop again, the screen comes to life and you clear your throat.

“In all the seas, in all the world, there has never been a land quite like the isle of Eroda. Shaped unmistakably like a frown, it is home to an all but forgotten fishing village that has had perpetual cloud cover for as long as anyone can remember.”

You stop and look at Ramona who is waiting for you to continue, but there’s nothing else. This is all you could come up with in the past two hours. Pathetic.

“Go on,” she nods, popping a cracker into her mouth but you give her a tight-lipped smile.

“This is it. This is everything I have.”

“You’ve been sitting here for hours.”

“Thanks for making me feel so good about it!” you huff, pushing the laptop away so you can lay your head onto the counter in front of you.

“Sorry! I’m sorry. Okay, so… how long should it be?”

“At least ten pages,” you breathe out desperately.

“Shit,” she sighs, putting the crackers away. “I wish I could help, but you know my imagination is on the level of a brick.”

You snort at her comment, sitting up straight again to look at her. She gives you an apologetic smile just when the front door opens and your second and last roommate strides into the apartment. Kostas has one arm full of groceries as he kicks his shoes off and changes them to his cute slippers his mother sent him all the way from Greece in a care package along with all of his favorite Greek snacks that are still taking up half of a cupboard in the kitchen, but at least he shares them with all of you.

He beams at the two of you with his usual upbeat mood, but upon seeing the two of you his smile falls.

“What’s this sourness I’m tasting in here?” he asks as he joins you at the island, setting down his bag to unload.

“Y/N is trying to write her assignment for Professor Sexy,” Ramona files him in and his head snaps around right away.

“God, I always forget you have a class with him! He is too hot, I can’t think straight when I’m near him in the cafeteria.” He grabs his veggies and puts them to his shelf in the fridge before looking back at the two of you. “Not that anything I do is straight,” he adds, making you both laugh.

“You guys are not helping me with all the sexy talk about him, it just makes me want to write the story even less,” you sigh dramatically.

“Just… offer him to suck him off for an A,” Kostas shrugs and you roll your eyes at his suggestion, not even taking him seriously, though the thought of having Professor Styles down your throat… you shouldn’t even go there right now.

“I think he’s gotten some offers like that before,” Ramona scoffs, stuffing her hands into her hoodie’s pocket.

“Definitely,” Kostas agrees as he moves to the cupboards to put the pasta and canned food he bought away. “But the real question is, has he ever accepted the offer?”

“No way,” you shake your head, pulling your laptop back in front of you, disappointed that no words magically appeared in the document in the meantime.

“But he surely got tempted at least a few times,” Ramona muses.

“Who doesn’t get tempted when they get offered oral sex?” Kostas chimes in, finishing up with his groceries before he joins you on the other stool, taking a look at what you’ve got so far, but he grimaces at the very few lines typed out.

“It’s so dirty that maybe some of our teachers have thought about having sex with us, don’t you think?” Ramona smirks coyly and you know she is thinking about her Economics professor. She is known to have a crush on the man even though he is in his late forties and has two kids and a wife.

“When is Dean coming back to town? You need to get laid,” Kostas asks her, making you laugh.

“Shut up,” she rolls her eyes. “We make up for the loss on the phone,” she then adds smirking pleased with herself.

“Oh, we all know, Honey. The walls are not that thick,” Kostas replies and that evidently shuts her up, her cheeks and ears turning red. Dean lives alone, so they are usually at his place when they want to be alone, not putting you and Kostas through the trauma of having to hear them fuck here, but you’ve also heard them on the phone the other day and it made you wonder how good of a call girl Ramona would be if she ever needs extra cash…

“I wish I could just write something else,” you sigh, changing the topic from Ramona’s sex life as you purse your lips, staring at the screen.

“Do you have something you’d want to write about?” she asks, leaning onto her elbows on the counter top.

“The easiest thing to write would be definitely a steamy story about the professor,” you breathe out, half joking, half seriously.

“Oh, like a fanfiction?” Kostas’ eyes light up at the idea. “What would it be about?”

“Mmm,” you think, fingers lingering above the keyboard before you smile up at your roommates and start typing while saying the words out loud.

“The professor sat in his leather chair behind his desk, paper piles stacked neatly on top of it, his piercing green eyes boring into me as I stood at the door in my uniform…”

“Uniform?” Ramona questions.

“You know, like a… school girl uniform. Short skirt, white shirt that’s unbuttoned at the top, knee high socks,” you add and her eyes widen.

“Oh, nasty!” Kostas laughs, but he is clearly enjoying it.

“How can I help you?” He asked, his tongue slowly running over his lips, wetting them at the sight of me as I took a few steps into the office. I made sure to sway my hips more than usually, the movement definitely caught his eyes that roamed down the length of my body.”

The document is starting to fill up with your words, even though these shouldn’t be the ones taking up your mind.

“I was hoping to talk about my grade, Professor. Do you have a moment?”

You imitate a low, sexy voice and your roommates are drinking up your words as you go along with the story.

“Come on in,” he nodded and I closed the door behind me for some privacy.

“I know the grades are decided, but I was hoping there was something I could do to earn some extra points and get an A, what do you think?”

“Depends on how far you’re willing to go for those extra points,” he hummed as I walked closer to his desk, pushing some of the papers to the side so I could sit on it, my short skirt barely covering my ass, baring the whole length of my thigh. The professor’s gaze snapped down at my leg, taking his sweet time staring at the smooth skin. When his eyes returned to mine, they were dark and filled with lust, they almost made me launch at him over the desk.

“Holy shit, Y/N, do you secretly write erotica novels?” Kostas snaps, fanning himself with his hands as you shake your head chuckling.

“I just have a wild imagination.”

“Okay, now go on, I need to know the rest,” he urges you, so you return to the document in front of you.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do, Professor,” I said, running a hand down my throat and over my breasts that were pushed so tight against my shirt, the buttons were threatening to pop any moment.

“That’s a dangerous thing to say, Miss Y/L/N,” he answered, eyes following wherever my hand was going on my body. They stared as I undid the first button of my shirt, giving him an even better sight of my breasts, the red lacy bra I was wearing now peaked out from under the white fabric and I noticed a hitch in his breath as he leaned back in his seat. My eyes fluttered down to his crotch and I finally noticed the delicious bulge that was growing by the moment. He caught my wandering eyes, but didn’t say a word, just let me gawk at him as we stared at each other for a few silent moments.

“I like dangerous and risky things, Professor,” you told him, undoing another button on your shirt. At this point, you could just get rid of the whole thing, your chest was fully on display.

“For real, do you do porn behind our back?” Ramona gasps, making all three of you laugh.

“How do you think I’m paying rent?” you play along.

“Can you get me a few gigs? But only if I can choose my partner,” Kostas places a hand to your knee, most likely already fantasizing about who he wants to work with in the industry.

“Of course, of course,” you nod chuckling.

“Okay, you can’t leave us hanging. Go on!” Ramona urges and once again, you return to the document.

The professor stood from his chair, taking his time as he walked around the desk until he was standing in front of me. I was still sitting on the top, one foot on the ground, the other one hanging in the air, legs parted enough that I flashed him a peek of my matching red thong underneath my skirt. My hands were aching to get on him, but I wanted him to make the first move.

“In that case, I have a few ideas how we can settle this,” he growled lowly, one hand moving to his erection that was bursting through the seams of his pants. My mouth watered at the way he gripped himself, my pussy drenched just from the sight in front of me. I needed to be touched and it had to be by him. I was ready to give him anything he wanted from me.

“Don’t hold back on me, Professor,” I moaned, a hand moving down to between my legs to touch myself, desperate for the slightest friction, but just when I could finally help myself, he grabbed both my wrists and stepping between my legs he yanked me against him, kissing me hard, his tongue down my throat in a blink of the eyes. I could feel his cock pressed against my wet, slick pussy and—

Ramona’s phone starts buzzing in her pocket and it snaps all three of us out of my fantasy.

“Oh, it’s Dean. I have to take this,” she breathes out holding up the phone in her hands. “And I’m totally not gonna get him to do phone sex with me after what you just planted into my head,” she chuckles as she heads towards her bedroom before shutting the door behind her.

“I really hope Dean will be back next week, because her libido is absolutely off the charts,” Kostas huffs, making you chuckle as he stands from the stool. “Anyway, I hope this little erotica break brought inspiration to you to finish the actual assignment. I have to start on one as well, so I’ll lock myself up in my cave. Good luck, girl!” He sends you kisses as he disappears in his own room, leaving you alone.

Turning back to your laptop you see the story still there, you scroll up and run over it again. It’s hot and spicy, you can see it happening so clearly in your head. It would be a shame to just abandon it. Grabbing your laptop you leave your spot in the kitchen and go back to your bedroom. Turning on the fairy lights wrapped around the headboard of your bed, you make yourself comfortable on the mountain of pillows and put your headphones in to start some music in case Ramona gets a little too excited and loud in the room next door.

The story has definitely made you horny and you think of grabbing your trusty pink vibrator from under the mattress, but you’re aching to finish the story, so before helping on yourself, you get back to writing.

An hour later you have thousands of words worth of your wildest fantasies about your Creative Writing professor and how you’d want him to fuck you in his office. It’s dirty, kinky and definitely unlikely to ever happen. You’re convinced you’ll never be able to look him in the eyes like before, but at least he will never any of the shit you wrote into this piece.

Getting it off your chest actually brings you inspiration for the real assignment, so after saving the dirty story, you open a new document and start typing. An hour later you’re almost halfway done so at last you decide to stay up until you’re finished. It’s Sunday tomorrow, you can sleep for as long as you want and at least you’ll have it done and turned in.

It’s around two in the morning when you finally finish and give it one last read to correct any mistakes. You edit it, make sure it’s just the way you want it and then open the online site where you have to turn assignments in. You feel exhausted and half asleep as you get to the page where Professor Styles is expecting the assignments to be uploaded. You export it and watch as the loading bar fills up and the file appears as an attachment. You type your name into the text bar before clicking upload and shutting the laptop closed as soon as it’s sent. You put it aside and just doze off right away, pleased with the work you’ve done.

Creative Writing is your last class on Wednesdays, starting at four and ending at five thirty. After the weekend when you turned the assignment in, you end up almost being late, barely making it on time because your last class was dragged longer than it should have. The professor and the majority of the class is already in the room so you just sprint to your usual seat. When you look up you see that the professor is staring right at you and it makes you freeze in your spot, all blood rushing out of your head.

It’s not the kind of mindless staring when you’re just too deep in your thoughts to realize your eyes are boring into someone. No, he is looking at you with a purpose, and judging from the furrowed eyebrows and darkened eyes, this purpose is not too pleasant.

He starts the class on time and avoids looking at you for the rest of it, while you’re basically falling apart in your seat. Normally you enjoy these ninety minutes, it’s kind of the highlight of your week, but not today. This unsettling feeling in your guts keeps you on edge the whole time and you can’t wait to flee from this room.

The last twenty minutes feel like an eternity and when the professor finally dismisses everyone you’re basically the first one to jump to your feet. The tiny voice in the back of your mind is telling you to get out of here as fast as possible.

“Miss Y/L/N!” the professor’s voice stops you in your tracks and your stomach drops. “Would you mind staying for a few minutes?”

Slowly turning to face him, you’re met with the same bewildered, dark look in his eyes and you feel like a reindeer caught in headlights as you nod anxiously. So much for leaving right away.

You walk to the side so the students pass by you easily. The professor gathers his papers, obviously waiting for the crowd to leave before talking to you. By the time the last person wanders out of the room you’re basically a nervous wreck.

Your eyes venture to the clearly fuming man just a few feet away and you watch him grab a stack of paper from his pile, placing it onto the desk before his eyes flicker up to meet yours.

“Would you mind explaining what this is?”

Stepping closer you take a look at the document in front of you, it has your name on it and the first few lines of your assignment you turned in, but the rest is not the story about the boy and the fish. You nearly faint when you keep reading and realize what it is.

The professor sat in his leather chair behind his desk, paper piles stacked neatly on top of it, his piercing green eyes boring into me as I stood at the door in my uniform…

“Oh my God,” you choke out, grabbing the papers from the desk to see if it’s the whole thing, though you already know the answer to that.

For some terrible and fatal reason, you must have ended up uploading the wrong document when you were turning the assignment in so late. You were half asleep, just happy to be done with it and you didn’t double check if you’ve chosen the right file. The erotic, kinky piece you wrote about the professor and yourself is now lying in front of you, printed out and he has surely read it and the look on his face now makes perfect sense.

“Yeah, I had a similar reaction when I opened the file the other day,” he nods furiously and you genuinely wish that you would just drop dead right then and there.

“This is—It’s a mistake, professor. I-I didn’t mean to, this was—oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening,” you stammer, hands shaking as you avoid to look at him. This is undoubtedly the worst moment of your whole life and nothing will even come close to topping it. You’ll never be able to recover from this, you might even have to go to therapy, because you surely feel like you’ve lost your mind in this moment.

The professor sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a moment to calm himself down. You can only imagine how awkward it is for him. He must be aware how good-looking he is and the effect he has on women. He’s been teaching here for years and you are surely not the first student to have a crush on him. There’s no way he is oblivious to all of this, but he probably never had to directly deal with it like now. He can’t control how other people feel about him or his look, but he should have never been put into the position where his professional work is crossed by some horny student’s wildest fantasies.

“Professor Styles, I am so sorry for this, it was all just a mistake. This was written as just a joke with my roommates, I never meant to use it or post it anywhere, I promise! I accidentally uploaded the wrong file, I swear my real assignment is nothing like this!”

All you can do is ramble about how sorry you are. Because you definitely are. You’ve never felt more embarrassed of yourself before and you’ll never live this down. But you have bigger things to worry about than your own haunting thoughts. What if he fails you for this stunt? Or worse, takes this to the dean and you get kicked out of school? You can definitely see it happen.

“I can only hope that it was just an honest mistake on your part,” he says when he finally speaks up.

“It was, absolutely, one hundred percent,” you nod eagerly.

“I’m not going to make a bigger deal out of this than it is. You’re lucky I’m the one it happened with, because I know some other professors would have taken it way more seriously. I’m willing to forget about it however if you promise not to be this careless in the future.”

“Learned my lesson, won’t happen again,” you shake your head, your heart hammering in your chest from the adrenaline.

“Great. Make sure to keep your… personal works separated from your school work. The assignment’s due date is tomorrow. I’ve already deleted your attachment from the system, but I think it’s better if you turn the real one in printed. I want your work on my desk by four pm tomorrow.”

“Understood,” you nod and hesitate whether you should place the printed copy of your shameful fiction back to the desk.

“Take it with you,” he tells you and you clutch it to your chest quickly.

“Again, I’m very sorry, professor. And thank you for… not punishing me for my reckless actions.”

Your eyes snap up right as you talk about punishing and for a split second you see something even darker in his eyes, but you’re not in the position to ponder about anything.

“I’ll see you next week, Miss Y/L/N,” he nods shortly before tearing his gaze away from you.

You sprint out of the room faster than ever and basically run the five blocks distance back to your apartment’s building. When you burst through the front door you find Kostas in the kitchen cooking and he gives you a questioning look upon seeing how shaken up you are.

“What? Were you chased home?” he asks as he keeps stirring something in the pot that smells absolutely delicious. Dropping your bag on your way you join him, still shaking from the encounter you just had with Professor Styles. Your mouth is dry so you grab a bottle of water from the fridge and chug down the whole thing at once.

“I fucked up. Big time,” you finally manage to speak up.

“You look like you just killed someone, what the fuck happened?”

“I wish I was the one to get killed,” you cry out, burying your face in your hands.

“Just tell me already!”

“Do you remember the dirty story I wrote when I was struggling with my assignment for Professor Styles?”

“Oh, your fanfiction! Of course!” he grins.

“I, uhh—I accidentally… I turned that in as my assignment.”

Kostas’ eyes go so wide for a moment you think they are gonna pop out. He opens his mouth several times, but closes it until he finally speaks up.

“Jesus, are you out of your mind?”

“It was an accident! I turned it in so late, I didn’t check if it was the right file!”

He stares back at you as if you really did just confess to killing someone and it’s the first time he seems speechless, that’s how you know you messed up really badly. Kostas always has a snarky, funny reply to everything, yet now he is just staring at you in silence and it’s worse as if he was dragging your ass for being so stupid.

Then he finally snaps out of his horror.

“Okay, alright. It’s not that bad, right? I mean, it wasn’t that bad what you wrote with us last night, it only went until the kiss.”

“I finished it later, wrote the whole thing,” you admit as you feel the panic rising inside you once again.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you have a death wish or something?”

“Thanks, you’re making me so good about it!” you snap back before dropping to the floor. Sitting you pull your knees to your chest as you lean against the cupboards underneath the counter. Kostas returns to the stove to check on the food while you question your whole existence.

“I’m sorry, but… it’s not like you can undo it now. Did he flip? Are you in trouble?”

“He was pissed. Like, so pissed, I’ve never seen the man like that. But surprisingly, I’m not in trouble. I just need to hand in my real assignment until tomorrow, but this time printed so I don’t fuck it up again.”

“Wow, he went soft on you, girl. He is an angel,” he huffs.

Rubbing your face with your hands you push yourself up from the floor, squaring your shoulders.

“I will never be able to look him in the eyes, Kostas. You have no idea what I wrote in that shit,” you shake your head vigorously.

“Can I read?” he peeks at you and you give him a hard look. “What? Just want to know how bad exactly it was!”

“I’m deleting the file. I wish I could burn my laptop, but I can’t afford a new one,” you growl, running a hand through your hair. “Anyway, I’ll go and make sure my real assignment is the best I can ever turn in. I’m surprised he is not failing me right away.”

The next day you leave earlier than your usual, dropping by the copy place near the campus to print your paper. You read it through three more times on your way just to make sure everything is decent and there’s no trace of your dirty fantasy in it.

You plan to drop by the professor’s office during your lunch break. Your two classes in the morning manage to take your attention away from the disaster that your life is, even if just for a few hours. But when you head to the building where Professor Styles’ office is, your nerves start to beat you up once again at the thought of having to face him.

You lied awake in your bed last night for a long time, thinking about it. He must think you’re crazy, like right off the bats kind of crazy, a maniac, almost like a stalker. It’s not like you wanted to use that story for anything, it would have rotted on your computer for eternity, probably getting deleted at some point. You had no plans to publish it or even just share with anyone, not even with Kostas or Ramona. They’ve heard enough of it and they surely don’t have to know the nasty things you fantasized about when you were alone.

His office’s door is closed, you see that from down the hallway. Taking several deep breaths you walk up and stop in front of it, staring at his name displayed on the wall next to the door. You can’t just dismiss how ironic it is, that your fantasy started similarly, though you are definitely not wearing the same outfit, your jeans and sweater covering most of your body unlike the uniform from the story.

At last you knock on the door, your heart hammering in your throat and you listen carefully for an answer that never comes. You knock again, hoping you just missed his voice, but you hear nothing again, so you decide to try to open the door, expecting it to be locked, but it opens. Just when you’re about to poke your head inside, a voice speaks up behind you.

“Are you looking for Harry? Oh, sorry, I mean Professor Styles.”

You recognize Professor Alvarez, she is teaching Modern American Literature, Drama and Poetry, Ramona had a class with her last semester. She is probably the youngest member of the department, barely thirty and she always looks her best, as if she just stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. You’ve never been sure how she can afford designer clothes and the expensive car you’ve seen her drive around campus from the paycheck she earns from the university, not that it’s any of your business.

“Uh, yeah. I have to hand in my paper,” you nod clearing your throat.

“He just left minutes ago to get lunch. I’m sure he’ll be back shortly, wait for him,” she smiles at you warmly, brushing her long, almost black hair over her shoulders.

“Oh, no. I’ll just place it onto his desk, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, go ahead. Do you want me to tell him you were here?”

“No need. He’ll see my name on top,” you force a smile back and she just nods, walking away as you step into Professor Styles’ office.

It’s not your first time here, so you’re not surprised by the massive amount of books lining along the walls and piling even on the floor in the corner. His desk is a bit messy, an empty coffee mug is set on the side, his laptop open, but the screen is black. The walls are a nice olive color and they match great with the vintage looking rug that covers the hardwood flooring that can be found in many of the classrooms as well in this building.

Crossing the room you step to his desk and pulling your paper out of your bag, pinned together with a paper clip, you place it to the middle so he can’t miss it when he returns. Feeling like an intruder you are about to leave right away, but then something catches your eyes.

Peeking from under a smaller stack of papers, your name is written on top and you recognize the formatting of the document. All your blood rushes into your head as you pull it out without even thinking about it and your mouth hangs open when you see another copy of your little fantasy printed out.

It can’t be the one he showed you yesterday since he told you to take it with yourself. That means he had it printed at least twice and this copy is different from the other one you have at home. It has some lines highlighted.

“What the…” You can barely believe your eyes, but the marking runs through the whole thing. The neon yellow color appears quite a few times throughout the whole text. You start going over the lines that caught his attention.

“My mouth watered at the way he gripped himself, my pussy drenched just from the sight in front of me.”

“I begged to him, my knees bruising against the harsh bristles of the rub underneath me, but it was all worth it.”

“My hands wrapped around his thick, throbbing erection and my lips parted.”

“He took my erected nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to make me whine.”

“He dragged the glistening tip across my soaking wet pussy, circling on my clit before he pushed the head inside, the rest following right after.”

“I screamed his name as his hand slapped against my ass over and over again, his hips pounding into me.”

And there was many more. All through the whole thing, he highlighted parts that got dirtier as the story evolved.

You flip through it again as if you were afraid this was just a game your imagination played with you. But the more you stare at the papers in your hands the more evident it’s becoming that it’s there and you’re not just hallucinating.

It doesn’t make sense, it was very clear he had nothing to do with it, he said he deleted your attachment from the site as well, but if that was the case, why does he have another copy that’s been evidently read thoroughly?

A laughter echoes outside of the room and you realize that you shouldn’t be here and definitely shouldn’t be snooping around your professor’s desk. You need to leave before he gets back so you don’t have to face him.

You’re about to stuff the dirty document back into the stack when something unfamiliar washes over you. A sudden urge of confidence and hunger for dominance after the embarrassment you went through yesterday, you want to give him a hint that he was busted.

So instead of making it look like you didn’t touch anything, you lay both your assignments to the table neatly next to each other, your dirty fiction of him and your real work you were supposed to turn in. When he’ll look at the desk it’ll be obvious that you did it and that’s exactly the message you want to leave behind.

Taking one last look at the setup you can’t help but feel excited and riled up as you walk out of his office and leave before he gets back to see your little surprise.

NEXT PART

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