#hoping my grades will improve too.

[sar3nka]

Lowkey relapsing sorry. Starting to act like a eating disordered vegan recently -_-

[staretes]

my v important national exams are tmr and this is the part of the night where adrenaline kicks in

[beehop]

i am having the WORST time healing these two lobe piercings i got like 5 months ago :(

[supercantaloupe]

the thing is i have always been the type to get very Frustrated when i repeatedly am not able to do something and get ery Worked Up About It in the process. and also the type to get really embarrassed when i'm visibly struggling in front of other people, which only makes me more frustrated and worked up etc. so uh. rehearsal was not. great for me tonight

[gyuuberryy]

love potions (but make it legal)!

pairing: tutor!jungwon x reader

summary: you had not been too excited about these tutoring sessions your potions professor had dropped on you. but, after meeting your tutor you couldn’t hope but think you both were brewing more than just potions, perhaps even love?

genre: hogwarts au, jungwon is a loser for the reader, initially slightly one sided pining, fluff, angst

warnings: some hogwarts lore references, mentions of failing a class, jealousy, angst, magic stuff, kissing, suggestive(ish)

note: they don’t actually make love potions in this but i liked the sound of it so i used it in the title hehe. i hope you guys enjoy this fic as you had given so much love to the heeseung one.

word count: 4.3kish

if you liked it please reblog or comment to give me your feedback! <3

to the anon who requested a jungwon hogwarts au im sososoo sorry for publishing this like six months later. i had a terrible writer’s block with this one. i’m terribly sorry, this constantly ran through my mind but i couldn’t bring myself to begin. i hope you like this!

you were so screwed.

you felt like a deflated balloon looking at your mock NEWT results. you were literally failing your potions class. with all the time spent in balancing out your classes, quidditch and sessions at the room of requirement as a part of dumbledore’s army, you had not practised well enough for your classes that were practical based. 

seeing your grades drop from exemplary results to having mediocre grades and failing a class was depressing. so, your potions teacher had made you stay back to have a word with you which is why you stood off to the side. your head hung low in disappointment with yourself. if this continued, it would be hard to apply for an auror’s job, which was your dream. 

you were broken out of your thoughts by the sound of your professor clearing his throat. your head shot up and you looked around to see the room was now empty save for you both. he gestured to the seat next to his table, so you shuffled over.

he looked over the rim of his glasses as he scanned over your report card. you hated the pitiful look that crossed over his face, you were not used to this.

“you are one of my best students, i really wasn’t expecting this from you..”

you grimaced at his words, feeling worse about your situation. great, you were not the only one disappointed by yourself.

your professor must have noticed because his tone immediately became gentle as he gave you a comforting smile. 

“see, the only reason i asked you to stay back was because i know you can do better”, he shuffled through a register seemingly looking for something. “i’m sure you have your reasons as to why your performance went down. i know you can improve again.”

you nodded at his words, already starting to feel better, “yes professor i-”

“which is why i think you should get tutored”, he cut you off.

you froze. tutoring? this was so embarrassing, usually you were the one to provide tutoring to others, and now you have to be the one to receive it? no thank you.

you let out a small chuckle, “i understand professor, but i think i can handle it by myself.”

his brows creased at your words, “i don’t think you have enough time for that, the exams are nearing and you have managed to mess up even the basic things in the exam.”

you sighed at his words, silently accepting your fate because he wasn’t wrong. maybe you should swallow your ego and just get tutored, it was for your own good anyway.

taking a deep breath you put on a fake smile and gritted out, “okay.”

the rush of your mary jane clad feet filled the hallways of hogwarts with clopping sounds. your feet skidded to a stop in front of the library doors and you placed your hand over your chest, trying to catch your breath from the ten minute long run. you were late for your first tutoring session because your evening nap went a little longer than expected. 

brushing out stray hair strands from your face you opened the doors and stepped in, looking around for your tutor. the only person other than you was a boy with raven hair, sitting on a bench completely surrounded by bookshelves. 

you approached him, assuming he was your tutor. 

“uh hey!”, you called out in an unsure manner. “are you my assigned tutor for po-”

“yes”, he cut you off curtly, not even bothering to spare you a glance. “take a seat.”

you frowned in confusion at his cold behaviour and pulled out a chair to sit next to him. he seemed to be shuffling through some papers and organising them. a few seconds went by with him failing to acknowledge your presence. you cleared your throat awkwardly and introduced yourself, trying to get his attention. 

his head immediately shot up as soon as he heard your name, his eyes widening in what you could tell was surprise. confused at his reaction, you just gave him a small smile. he was silent for a while, giving you enough time to take in his features.

bangs fell over the smooth skin of his forehead and he looked at you through glasses which fit perfectly on his face, adding on to his handsome features. you had seen him around a few times as you shared a few classes with him. he was one of the smartest students, loved by all his teachers.

“uh i’m jungwon”, his voice broke through the awkward silence.

you nodded, “hey. i’ve seen you around.”

his lips pulled up into a smile at that as he let out a small laugh nervously. you raised your eyebrows at his sudden shift in demeanour. just a moment ago he didn’t care about your presence and now he was smiling? whatever.

“professor told me you had been facing some problems with potions”, he looked down and tapped his quill on the table. “what can i help you with?”

you explained how you messed up the practical test for your mocks. he listened intently, never breaking eye contact with you which made you a bit nervous. 

you came to an end of your rant but jungwon still maintained eye contact with you, his chin resting on his hand now. 

you cleared your throat, “so..?”

he still seemed to be staring at you, his eyes out of focus as he dreamily smiled at you.

frowning at his odd behaviour, you waved your hand in front of his face which broke him out of his thoughts. his eyes widened momentarily as he shook his head, a small blush spreading across his cheeks.

“are you sick?”

he chuckled nervously, “no no i was just planning out how i could help you”

he picked up a quill and started writing a plan for you in neat handwriting. once he was done, he passed the sheet over to you.

“we’ll follow this for the next two weeks. meet me in the potions class at four tomorrow.”

you gave a once over at what he had written and smiled at him. “will do, thanks jungwon!”

he nodded and started packing up his things. when he was done he looked at you expectantly, “it’s time for dinner, let’s go to the great hall together.”

you smiled and gathered your things as well.

it was the first day of your tutoring and you were early today.

or you thought so.

glancing around the potions classroom, you spotted jungwon already there. he was perched on a stool, arranging vials and flasks on the tables. unlike his usual composed demeanour in class, he seemed flustered, his bangs falling over his forehead as he fumbled with a particularly stubborn stopper.

he looked up as he heard you shuffle in, a relieved smile splitting his face.

"ah, there you are! i was starting to think you'd gotten lost."

"lost?" you repeated, a laugh escaping your lips. "in the potions classroom? hardly."

he chuckled, a nervous undertone to it. "right, of course. so, are you ready to tackle some invisibility potion today?"

you straightened your robes, a determined glint in your eyes. "ready as i'll ever be. though," you added, an unsure lilt in your voice, "considering my track record, maybe 'invisible' isn't the best thing to start off with."

jungwon's hummed, his cheeks flushing. "well, that's why we're practising, isn't it? to avoid another...disappearing act?"

you snorted. "exactly. though, to be fair, the professor did say my failed polyjuice potion was rather impressive in its...uniqueness."

he winced. "right. let's just focus on not achieving sentience with our cauldron this time, alright?"

the rest of the afternoon was a whirlwind of chopping netslime and muttering incantations. jungwon was a patient tutor, though his explanations sometimes devolved into nervous rambling when your eyes met. 

by the end of the session, your potion shimmered a faint, almost-invisible blue. not perfect, but a far cry from your previous disasters. jungwon beamed, his earlier awkwardness replaced by genuine pride.

"see? you're a natural! with a little more practice, you'll be brewing like snape in no time."

you laughed. "snape? now that's a terrifying image."

he chuckled, then cleared his throat, his gaze flickering away. "well, i should probably get going. i have herbology first thing tomorrow."

you nodded, gathering your things. "alright, see you then. and jungwon?"

he stopped at the door, his eyes questioning.

"thanks a lot for doing this. i already feel more confident.”

he smiled at that, making you do the same unconsciously.

the next two weeks flew by in a flurry of potion-making and stolen glances in your sessions, and outside of it whenever you both crossed paths. you had made a new friend and you were grateful for his help. you found yourself approaching the cauldron with newfound determination. your brews were improving steadily, and the playful banter during your sessions only added to the enjoyment.

one particularly chilly evening, you hurried down to the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for your secret DA practice sessions. you entered to find the familiar sight of your fellow students practising disarming spells and dodging jinxes. but amidst the chaos, you spotted an unexpected face – jungwon.

he was facing away from you, expertly deflecting a curse with a flick of his wand. you blinked, momentarily speechless. you never knew jungwon was a part of this! a warmth bloomed in your chest, a mixture of surprise and a strange sense of pride.

"nice one, jungwon!" , you called out, a wide grin on your face. jungwon turned, his eyes meeting yours. a flicker of surprise crossed his features before he broke into a wide grin.

"hey there," he said casually, striding over to you. "didn't expect to see you here."

"me neither," you admitted, a smile playing on your lips. "i guess you're not just a potions prodigy, huh?"

he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "turns out i have a few other hidden talents."

the rest of the evening flew by in a whirlwind of practice. seeing jungwon in this new light – confident, skilled, and fighting for a cause you both believed in – made your heart flutter. he was everything you admired and more.

admire? since when did that happen?

shaking your head to rid yourself of such thoughts, you got back to practising your charm. although, over the duration of the practise, your mind couldn’t help but wander towards jungwon’s recent behaviour. he had been sweet to you since the beginning, always ready to help out. and the way he blushed around you and quipped with you, you couldn’t help but think that maybe he also felt something? 

as the group started dispersing, you lingered near the room's entrance, feigning the need to adjust your cloak.

"hey," jungwon's voice startled you. he was packing his bag, a casual smile playing on his lips. "didn't head out yet?"

"actually," you began, fiddling with the strap of your bag, "there was something i wanted to ask you about."

his smile widened in invitation. "shoot."

you took a deep breath. "it's about dumbledore's army. we've been working on patronus charms lately, and well, i'm struggling a bit." shame tinged your cheeks. you weren't used to needing help with spells.

jungwon's expression softened with understanding. "a patronus charm, huh? tricky business, that. but hey, i might be able to offer some pointers."

relief washed over you. "really? that would be amazing!"

he gestured towards a secluded corner of the room. "come on, then. let's see what you're working with."

you settled onto the dusty floor, explaining your struggles. you could conjure a faint wisp of silvery light, but it was far from the actual form you needed. jungwon listened intently, occasionally asking clarifying questions.

"okay," he said once you finished, "it seems you've got the basic idea down. the key is focusing on a strong, happy memory. something that evokes a feeling of pure joy and warmth."

he saw your hesitant expression and chuckled. "don't worry, it's not a competition to see who has the most embarrassing childhood memory."

you forced a smile. "no, of course not." but your mind struggled to find that perfect memory.

jungwon seemed to sense your frustration. "close your eyes," he instructed gently. 

"take a deep breath and try to visualise a place that makes you feel truly happy. maybe a familiar place from your childhood, a special time with a friend, anything that brings a smile to your face."

you closed your eyes, following his guidance. images flickered through your mind – family picnics, winning a quidditch match, late-night talks with your best friend. but none of them seemed to spark the necessary warmth.

just as you were about to give up, a memory surfaced. a smile bloomed on your face. you opened your eyes and met jungwon's gaze. "i think i have it," you whispered.

he nodded encouragingly. "focus on that feeling. the warmth, the happiness, let it flow through you and into your wand."

you closed your eyes again, picturing the memory that brought you happiness. it was a little hazy as you tried to focus on the touch and sounds from that memory. with a deep breath, you pointed your wand forward and muttered the incantation.

a wisp of silvery light erupted from your wand, growing and solidifying into a shape. it wasn't perfect – the outline of a cat was more suggestion than a form – but it was a patronus. you had finally done it.

a cheer escaped your lips as you realised you had finally done it. you looked at jungwon, your heart brimming with gratitude. "i did it!"

he beamed, genuine pride radiating from him. "see? you're a natural. you just needed a little nudge in the right direction."

his words held a hint of something more, something that sent a shiver down your spine. you wanted to thank him properly, to express just how much his help meant to you. 

"thank you, jungwon," you murmured, your voice barely a whisper. you wished, however, that your patronus could solidify into something more impressive, something that truly reflected the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

as if sensing your unspoken desire, jungwon stepped closer. his movements were subtle, almost hesitant. but before you could question it, he reached behind you, his hand gently wrapping around yours, enclosing both your hands and your wand within his hold.

a jolt of electricity shot through you at his touch. the air in the room crackled with a tension you hadn't noticed before. your focus on the patronus wavered momentarily, replaced by a hyper awareness of jungwon's warm torso pressed against your back, his fingers brushing against yours.

his warm breath fanned over your ear as he whispered even though there was no one around to hear you both, “now completely focus on that memory.”

the room seemed to shrink, the air growing thick with unspoken tension. you focused on the memory, it acting as a soothing anchor in the storm brewing inside you. but this time, something was different. the wispy light from your wand pulsed, growing brighter, solidifying. the faint outline of a cat sharpened, taking on a more defined form.

in the heightened focus, you were oblivious to everything except the memory and the warmth radiating from jungwon's hand on yours. the familiar nostalgia from the memory echoed in your mind, a beacon of happiness. with a burst of energy, a fully formed silver cat patronus materialised, leaping and frolicking around the room.

you gasped in awe, forgetting everything else. "it's perfect! it's actually a perfect patronus!" 

you jumped, unknowingly pushing yourself more into jungwon, making him wrap his hands loosely around you as he chuckled lowly. you spun around to share your joy with him.

but as you turned, your breath hitched. you were impossibly close to him, his hand still wrapped around yours, his face mere inches away. his eyes were dark and intense, a mirror of the emotions swirling within you. the air crackled with unspoken desire.

you leaned in, heart pounding a frantic rhythm against your ribs. he tilted his head ever so slightly, his lips hovering a whisper away from yours. his breath hitched ever so slightly, as you both leaned in, the space between your lips closing with each passing second.

just as your lips were about to meet, jungwon pulled back abruptly. 

he cleared his throat, his hand falling away from yours. "that's... that's amazing," he stammered, his eyes flickering away from yours. "a perfect patronus. you really are something else."

his words held a strange distance, and a knot of unease tightened in your stomach. the electric tension that had thrummed in the air moments ago had dissipated, replaced by an awkward silence. you weren't sure what had happened, but embarrassment washed over you in suffocating waves. the joy of your achievement felt strangely hollow now.

your patronus immediately vanished into thin air, leaving a trail of sparkles behind.

the tension in the room receded as quickly as it had risen, leaving a bewildered silence in its wake. you blinked, confused and slightly disappointed. why did he stop?

"i, uh," he stammered, looking at his shoes, "i think it's getting late. maybe we should call it a night?"

did he regret the near kiss? or was there something else at play? 

you opened your mouth to ask, but the words wouldn't come. the magic of the patronus lingered, a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

"yeah," you finally managed, your voice barely a whisper. "it's getting late."

jungwon offered a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes before gathering his things and hurrying towards the exit. you watched him go, a myriad of emotions swirling within you.

disappointment gnawed at you like a dementor during your potions class the next day. your potions professor, inspecting your bubbling concoction with a delighted smile, declared it "exactly by the book."

he beamed, announcing, "it appears the extra sessions have paid off! perhaps we can consider them concluded, wouldn't you agree?"

a lump formed in your throat. you glanced at jungwon, expecting a playful jab or a celebratory nod. but he simply shrugged, a noncommittal, ‘sounds good to me,’ escaping his lips.

the professor's words should have filled you with relief. you were back on track, independent once more. yet, as the class ended, all you felt was a hollow emptiness. you caught jungwon's eye for a fleeting moment, hoping for a familiar spark or a shared grin. instead, he averted his gaze, muttering a hurried goodbye and hurried out of the classroom.

this became a pattern over the next few days. in the hallways, where you once exchanged playful jibes, jungwon now seemed to melt into the background whenever you approached. shared classes were endured in a tense silence, his friendly demeanour replaced by a distant politeness. 

you replayed the scene in the room of requirement over and over in your head, desperately trying to pinpoint where you'd gone wrong. 

had you misread the tension? had you moved too fast, startled him with your sudden boldness?

one evening, you found yourself lingering outside the room of requirement, the usual meeting place for dumbledore's army. you weren't sure why you were there, perhaps a desperate hope that jungwon would appear. the door creaked open, and your best friend peeked out.

"lost something?" she asked, her brow quirked in concern.

you shook your head, the words refusing to form.

"everything alright?" she pressed gently, her perceptive eyes searching yours.

you sighed, finally blurting out, "it's jungwon. did i…did i do something wrong?"

her knowing smile softened the blow. "ah," she said, pulling you into a hug. "sometimes, the most powerful potions are brewed in silence, simmering with unspoken emotions."

her words offered little comfort, but they planted a seed in your mind. maybe rushing something as delicate as what you felt for jungwon wasn't the way. maybe patience, like the perfect potion, required time and the right balance of ingredients. you resolved to let things cool, to focus on mastering your spells and potions, hoping that maybe, one day, the right opportunity would present itself, and the spark you shared with jungwon wouldn't need words to reignite.

screw whatever you thought before. you couldn't wait for that ‘one day’ to come as you watched your classmate, a girl with hair like spun sunshine, practically cling to jungwon's arm in herbology. they were bent over, giggling like pixies at a particularly stubborn gillyweed.

fury replaced the embers of hope your friend had ignited. who was this girl? had he moved on that quickly? 

jealousy bubbled in your stomach as you stalked away from the window, hurt settling in your chest. but you were determined to make things right, even if it meant making your friendship(?) with him awkward, you needed to know what went wrong. 

the bell signalling the end of class was your cue. you bolted out, weaving through students, your eyes locked on jungwon. he noticed you coming, a flicker of surprise crossing his face, but before he could react, you were upon him.

he was walking with the sunshine-haired girl, lost in their own conversation, until a breathless, "jungwon!" ripped him from it. he turned, eyes widening further when he saw your determined, (slightly crazed) expression.

"uh, hi?" he stammered, glancing between you and the girl who stood blinking at you both, confused.

"excuse me," you said politely through gritted teeth to the girl, who, thankfully, scurried off with a mumbled ‘see you later, jungwon.’

now, alone with the reason of your anger and surging jealousy, you grabbed his arm and steered him away from the castle grounds. you marched him past the greenhouses until you reached a secluded clearing near the black lake. there, with a flourish that would have earned you points in charms class, you pinned him against a sturdy oak tree.

he stared at you, bewildered, as your chest heaved. "okay," he started cautiously, "what's going on?"

"what's going on?" you sputtered, finally finding your voice. "what's going on is, i thought we had...something!" you gestured wildly towards the castle, where you could still see a flicker of sunshine hair disappear around a corner.

jungwon blinked, then a slow blush crept up his neck. "we...we do! we had potions tutoring sessions, remember?"

you threw your hands up in exasperation. "ugh, not tutoring! this…this unspoken thing we have!"

his blush deepened, and he mumbled something inaudible under his breath.

"what?" you demanded.

he took a deep breath. "look, about that night in the room of requirement..."

"yes?" you leaned in, heart pounding.

he cleared his throat. "maybe i… i overreacted. i wasn't sure what you were feeling, and…"

he trailed off, his gaze dropping to the ground. you gaped at him, realising the truth. you hadn't scared him off, he'd scared himself off! 

but there was more. a flicker of insecurity crossed his eyes. "and to be honest," he admitted sheepishly, "the real reason i've been avoiding you… well, it's because i was trying to figure out how to tell you something...something big."

you blinked. here you were, fuming about a nonexistent threat, while jungwon had been battling his own insecurities. the situation was hilarious, almost. but mostly, it was endearing.

a slow smile spread across your face. "well, spill it, jungwon. don't leave me in suspense."

he fumbled with his words, cheeks burning a fiery red. "it's about...well, ever since the beginning of this year, i’ve looked at you…in a different light."

your heart thrummed erratically now, hoping he was getting to where you wanted him to.

"...and, well, you're not just funny and smart, you're kind and brave, and the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, it just makes me..." his voice trailed off, his eyes pleading with yours. 

his rambling was adorable, but the knot of frustration in your stomach tightened with every nervous stammer. you couldn't take it anymore.

grabbing him by the collar, you silenced him with a kiss. it started desperate, fueled by the need to know his true feelings, but as his lips met yours, it melted into something sweeter. you poured your unspoken emotions into that kiss, the frustration, the longing, the dawning hope. 

suddenly, jungwon spun you around, switching your positions so that you were pushed against the tree now. your breath hitched in surprise at his sudden show of confidence. he dove back into the kiss, his soft lips moving against yours in fervour. the intensity of your kiss increased along with your pulse and you were pretty sure jungwon could feel it with the way he was pressed up against you

when he finally pulled back, breathless and dizzy, a different kind of silence hung in the air.

jungwon stared at you as your cheeks flushed a brilliant crimson, mirroring the sunset bleeding across the lake. finally, a smile bloomed on his face, genuine and relieved. 

"see," he breathed, voice husky, "that was much easier than all that."

you laughed, a genuine sound that echoed through the clearing. relief washed over you, warm and tingly. "i should be the one saying that" you teased.

“yeah well i chickened out”, he scratched his head in embarrassment, “i wanted my confession to be perfect.”

you smirked, “yeah well what you pulled right now was very romantic. i didn’t know you had that in you.”

he rolled his eyes playfully and grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. “you liked it though. let’s head back now, it’s almost time for dinner.”

you smiled as you walked in step with him, swinging your intertwined hands back and forth. he squeezed your hand with a cheeky grin on his face.  you returned the squeeze looking up at him in question, when his next words had a blush blooming on your face.

“i hope you’re going to pay me back for those lessons with more of such kisses.”

𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 ©𝗴𝘆𝘂𝘂𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗿𝘆𝘆 on Tumblr

˚ · .𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗲𝗱

[tainsan]

opposites attract.

↳synopsis: you are on the verge of being expelled, so your teacher helps you find a tutor, yet what you weren't expecting was much more than just tutoring sessions.

↳ word count: 14.3k

↳ a/n: i know this isnt misfits or misfits related but i wanted to give you guys something whilst you wait for the next chapter. i havent been active due to a majot burnout, but im getting into the swing of it again. I hope you enjoy this one shot whilst you wait for the next chapter <3

↳ warnings: fem bodied reader, mentions of alcohol, explicit smut, fingering, oral (f rec), unprotected sex (wrap it pls), gn pronouns but Yunho calls reader a good girl.

MINORS DNI 18+ CONTENT AHEAD

"Expelled, what do you mean?" you exclaim, the words of your professor hitting you like a sudden, unwelcome storm.

Your professor leans forward, her expression grave. "If you don’t make a change," she replies, her tone weighted with concern. "Your recent academic performance has been far from ideal, and it's no secret that you'd rather be out partying and socialising than studying. I've tried to advocate for you for the past few months, but even the student council is beginning to lose faith. You need to make a change, or else they will remove you from this program."

The news leaves you feeling torn. You have always been drawn to the vibrant social scene on campus, and it was no secret that you enjoy a good party. Balancing your studies with your social life has been a constant struggle, and it has finally caught up with you in the form of this dire warning.

Taking a deep breath, you try to gather your thoughts, your mind a whirlwind of confusion. "I don't know what to do, though," you admit, your voice tinged with both desperation and uncertainty.

Professor Turner fixes her gaze on you, her expression stern yet caring. Her half-moon glasses perch on the edge of her nose lends an air of wisdom to her appearance. She had always been one of the few teachers who genuinely believed in your potential, even if you hadn't quite lived up to it yet. 

She leans forward slightly, her eyes locked on yours. "You can start by addressing that persistent partying issue," she says, her tone deadpan but not without a hint of exasperation. "I've always seen your talent, but it's time for you to believe in it too. My patience for you is wearing thin, and the threat of expulsion is very real. You need to get your studies together, and fast."

Her words strike a chord, and bow your head down, tears starting to form in your eyes. The urgency of the situation finally sinks in, and you know it is time to make a change. 

Professor Turner's expression softens, and she leans back in her chair, understanding the turmoil in your eyes. "I know it can be challenging to balance both, but it's essential. Perhaps you can establish a more structured study schedule and limit your social activities during the week.”

Looking up at her, you notice the warmth and unwavering belief in her eyes, which provides a glimmer of hope amidst your uncertainty. 

She continues, "In fact, I found a tutor for you. Someone had to cancel on him at the last minute, and he's willing to take you on until your grades improve. He’s an incredibly sweet person, his grades are the best in my class."

Although you would rather avoid any study sessions or anything to do with your university academics, you reluctantly take the paper showcasing the number of the tutor your professor found for you. The paper displays the name "Jeong Yunho" along with his contact number. You have never heard of him before, which was unusual considering you considered yourself as a social butterfly who knew nearly everyone on campus. It occurred to you that there truly was a first time for everything.

As you held the paper, a sense of curiosity overcame your reluctance. You pondered the mystery behind this unknown tutor and wondered what kind of person Jeong Yunho was. 

—

Clutching your bag tightly under your arm, you reluctantly made your way towards the library on a Friday evening. With every step, you grumbled to yourself, yearning to be at a lively party instead, drowning your sorrows about the looming threat of expulsion. The future seemed bleak, and hope was a distant memory. When you left Professor Turner's office earlier, you almost crumpled the paper she had given you, fully intent on disregarding any contact with whoever the hell Yunho is.

The journey to the library is slow, partly because you have never set foot in the place before, and partly due to your resistance against the impending academic endeavour. You had never planned on being a library regular; it wasn't part of your college vision. Yet, the harsh reality of the potential consequences weigh heavily on your mind. Losing your education at this point would not only set you back years but also jeopardise all the hard work you have invested to even make it to this esteemed school in the first place.

With every reluctant step, you can’t help but reflect on the choices that have led you here. It was time to face the music, find this enigmatic Yunho, and see if, against all odds, he held the key to salvaging your academic future. 

Pushing open the heavy wooden doors of the university library, you're immediately greeted by the familiar scent of aged books and hushed whispers. The soft lighting casts a warm glow over the rows of shelves filled with knowledge, and you can't help but feel out of place in this quiet atmosphere. You've rarely ventured into this sanctuary of academia, and your lack of familiarity is evident as you scan the cavernous space, unsure of where to start

Stepping further into the library, your frustration and reluctance grow. You have little idea of who you're even looking for. The notion that Yunho might be some stereotypical "nerd-looking" guy briefly crosses your mind, and you can't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the shallow assumption.

After several minutes of wandering the labyrinthine aisles, you find yourself standing in the centre of the library, defeated and ready to give up on this wild goose chase. You can't even muster the energy to be disappointed; you're too focused on your own internal battle between academic responsibilities and your desire for the social scene.

Just as you turn to head for the exit, your hasty retreat is halted by an unexpected and rather forceful collision. You practically bump into a broad, solid chest that seemingly appears out of nowhere. Startled, you stagger back a step, nearly dropping the papers that you have clenched in your hand.

Looking up, you're met with the sight of a tall man, much taller than you. The first thing you notice is his thick black-framed glasses perched on his nose, giving him a rather studious appearance. However, his eyes sparkle with warmth and curiosity, and his friendly, wide smile catches you off guard.

"I'm sorry," you stammer, feeling flustered by the unexpected encounter.

The man's voice is deep and soothing and light-hearted as he replies, "No need to apologise. Are you looking for someone, or can I help you find a book or something?"

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should reveal your purpose in the library. But the kindness in his eyes and the genuine desire to assist make you decide to share. "Actually, I'm trying to find someone named Yunho. I was told he could help me with my studies."

His smile widens, his eyes scrunching in the process, and he extends a hand in greeting. "Yunho, at your service. It's nice to meet you."

You shake his hand, feeling a mix of surprise and relief. Yunho is not what you had expected, and the moment you assumed he'd be a stereotypical "nerd" is now a distant memory. As you look into his friendly eyes, a sense of hope and optimism begins to replace the frustration and doubt that had plagued you earlier.

"You're Yunho?" you ask, a hint of surprise in your voice, as he begins to lead you towards where it appears he was sitting.

"Yes, is it hard to believe?" Yunho responds, a slight nervousness in his tone. "I can get my ID out if you're sceptical." He quickly reaches into his pocket, his ears turning a shade of red as he rushes to grab his ID.

Hastily, you halt him, not wanting to put him through the trouble of proving his identity. Silently, you smile to yourself, he is sweet.

You and Yunho take a seat at a quiet corner table within the library, and you find yourself fidgeting with unease in your chair. Yunho, observant of your discomfort, wisely refrains from commenting, valuing your need for privacy.

"Alright," Yunho began, adjusting his glasses with a hint of nervousness in his demeanour. He reaches into his bag, carefully pulling out two well-worn textbooks and a stack of papers, placing them on the table in front of you. 

"I wasn't entirely sure which topics you needed help with, so I brought materials for all five modules you're studying this semester."

You examine the books, their covers showing the marks of countless readers who had delved into their pages. 

"Are these your books?" you inquire, surprised by the thoughtfulness he has put into his preparation.

Yunho shakes his head, his cheeks flushing slightly as he admits, "No, I borrowed them from the library. Microbiology isn't my field of study."

Your disbelief is evident as you fix your gaze on him. The rosy hue on his cheeks deepens as he fiddles with the sleeves of his oversized sweater and adjusts his glasses nervously. "You don't study microbiology?" you ask, genuinely surprised.

"No," Yunho confesses, his embarrassment now fully on display. "I just study it as a hobby."

You can’t help but be impressed by his dedication and the sheer audacity of teaching a subject purely out of passion. 

"That's impressive," you state. You were well aware that to tutor a subject officially, one typically needed to pass a test administered by the school, certifying one's proficiency. The fact that Yunho was willing to help without any formal obligation was both admirable and unexpected.

Curiosity gets the better of you, you inquire, "What else do you tutor?"

Yunho hesitates for a moment, his fingers still absently adjusting his glasses. "Um, history, algebra, and applied sciences," he finally reveals, his modesty and shyness contrasting with his evident knowledge.

As you listened to him speak, you found yourself captivated not only by his academic prowess but also by the way he wore his thick glasses and his endearing shyness. Yunho was turning out to be a surprising and impressive individual, and you couldn't help but feel a growing fascination with the person who had just entered your academic world.

“So how much do you know about Microbiology?” Yunho questions, thinning through some of the papers in front of him.

“Uh, the basics I guess.” you mumble, your knowledge not the best seeing as you have missed many lectures the past few months.

Yunho's gaze meets yours, and you sense him observing your unease as his eyes traverse your form. 

With a soft tone, he reassures you, "it’s okay, you can be honest. I'm here to help you, so you have to be honest. Then I can help you in the best way possible.” 

For a fleeting moment, his words touch your heart, a warmth spreading within. Yet, you quickly suppress the feeling, reminding yourself that there is no time for such emotions in your busy life.

“I’ve forgotten a lot, to be honest.” 

“That’s okay, we will start with the basics today, to refresh your memory.” 

Under the soft glow of the study lamps in your cosy corner of the library, Yunho begins to unravel the basics. The excitement in his eyes was unmistakable, his passion for the subject evident with every word he spoke.

"Alright," he begins, tracing his finger along the pages filled with complex diagrams and scientific jargon. "As you likely already know, microbiology is the study of tiny organisms, like bacteria, viruses, and fungi. These microorganisms are everywhere, and they play a crucial role in our lives, from the food we eat to the diseases we encounter."

Yunho's explanation is clear and concise, making sure to break down complex ideas into easily digestible pieces. 

He continues, "Uhh, the basics: the three main types of microorganisms. First, there are bacteria. They're single-celled organisms that can be both good and bad. Some bacteria help with digestion in your gut, while others can cause diseases."

You nod along, your memory starting to be refreshed. Yunho's enthusiasm is contagious, and you find yourself getting more and more interested in the subject.

He flips to a page with colourful illustrations of various microorganisms. "Then there are viruses, which are even smaller than bacteria. They're not considered living because they can't reproduce on their own. Instead, they need a host cell to replicate. Viruses are responsible for many illnesses, like the flu or COVID."

You absorb the information, appreciating how Yunho made the complex concept of viruses relatable. "And the third type?" you prompt.

"Ah, fungi," Yunho smiles. "Fungi are more complex microorganisms. They can be beneficial, like the yeast used in baking bread, or harmful, causing infections like athlete's foot. They're known for their unique cell structure and reproduction methods."

Whilst he explains, he encourages you to ask questions, making sure you are following along. The library's serene ambiance, coupled with Yunho's patient teaching, created a comfortable learning atmosphere. He didn't rush, taking his time to make sure you grasped each concept before moving on.

He continued to cover the basics of microbiology, including the significance of studying these microorganisms, their role in medicine, agriculture, and environmental science. Yunho's passion for the subject was evident in the way he animatedly discussed the various branches of microbiology, from medical microbiology to environmental microbiology, each with its unique focus and importance.

In the quiet of the library, during this unexpected first study session, you find yourself lost in thought. This wasn't how you had imagined it would go, and you can’t help but be impressed and thankful for Yunho's extraordinary patience and intelligence. 

You had initially expected a conventional tutoring experience, but Yunho has proven to be so much more. His explanations were crystal clear, his passion for the subject contagious, and his willingness to help you with genuine enthusiasm is striking. He isn’t just a smart individual; he is a rare combination of intelligence and empathy.

You marvel at the fact that he wasn't the stereotypical snobby, know-it-all type who might look down on your abilities. Instead, Yunho is an embodiment of understanding and non-judgment. As he continues to make the complex subject of microbiology comprehensible, you can’t help but feel immense gratitude.

The study session with Yunho nears its end and you find yourself in a much different frame of mind than when you had started. Initially apprehensive about having a tutor, you have been pleasantly surprised by the experience. Your worries have somewhat melted away, replaced by a growing sense of confidence and gratitude.

Yunho, having covered a significant portion of the microbiology basics, closes the textbook with a satisfied smile. "I think we've made some good progress today," he says. "But there is still a lot we have to cover before exams next month. I expect to see you every Wednesday and Friday until then." Yunho attempts a stern voice, jokingly pointing his finger at you.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “Yes sir.” you salute him, acting back on his funny actions. 

Gathering your belongings, you prepare to leave the library, yet Yunho surprises you with a genuine offer. 

"If you ever have questions or need further assistance, don't hesitate to reach out. I'm here to help, and I enjoy teaching. We can meet on more days if you need."

You smile at the sincerity in his voice, “that’s okay, Yunho.” you say before turning towards the exit.

Walking out of the library, a lightness seems to settle upon your chest, replacing the initial apprehension with a sense of accomplishment. Glancing at your phone, you note that it is only ten in the evening. This realisation fills you with a newfound sense of freedom and opportunity.

With a contented smile, you contemplate the evening unfolding before you. The memory of the house party, just a short walk down the road, initially seemed distant due to your earlier commitment to the study session with Yunho. Despite knowing that you should be heading home to review your notes, a mischievous thought crept into your mind – what Yunho didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

A sly smirk plays on your lips as you begin to make your way toward the house party. You can’t deny the allure of a night filled with fun and perhaps a little indulgence. Yet, as you take your first steps, a fleeting moment of hesitation overcomes you. You pause, reflecting on the considerable effort Yunho had put into helping you today.

It is a big realisation. Few, if any, have ever invested so much time and effort in your growth and success. Your heart warms for a brief second at the thought, but just as quickly, you push aside those emotions. You have your reasons – a past that still haunted you, and the fear of getting your heart broken once more. You can’t afford to be vulnerable.

Despite your better judgement, you continue your journey to the house party, determined to enjoy the night to the fullest. 

Unbeknownst to you, though, Yunho's presence would linger in your thoughts throughout the night.

—

Several weeks have passed since the start of your study sessions with Yunho, and it has been quite the transformative period. Initially, you had been reluctant to engage in any additional study outside of your scheduled sessions with him. But over time, Yunho's presence had become a reassuring constant in your life, offering a sense of peace and support that you couldn't quite admit to yourself.

During the past couple of weeks, you found yourself increasingly immersed in your books and studies, even sometimes choosing academic pursuits over the lively parties that your large, party-loving friend group frequented. 

The shift in your priorities had not gone unnoticed by your friends, who seemed disheartened by your withdrawal from their activities. A residue of guilt clings to you every time you opted to hit the books rather than attend a party. Your ‘friends’ have grown vocal about it, casting you as a bore and a waste of time, berating you for supposedly losing your popularity.

Amid this turmoil, your study sessions with Yunho had become a sanctuary, a refuge from the social pressure and expectations. What you didn't fully realise was the profound positive impact these sessions were having on you, not just academically but also in terms of your personal growth.

Just a few days ago, you faced your first exam since you had started your sessions with Yunho and today you are receiving the results. You are well aware that if you do not pass this, it is not a huge deal seeing as it is not a final exam. Yet you do need to prove yourself to the student council by at least getting a D. 

The anticipation is palpable in Professor Turner's classroom, the air thick with nervous energy. She stands at the front of the room, clutching a stack of papers that hold the results of the previous week's exam. Your heart races as you sit there, your anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Whilst Professor Turner begins to distribute the grades, your palms grow clammy, and your heart races even faster. 

As Professor Turner finally reaches your desk, she hands you the paper with a warm smile that holds an underlying pride. In the corner of the sheet, a vibrant red 'C' was marked. It isn’t the highest grade in the class, but at this moment, it feels like a monumental achievement.

A sense of accomplishment washes over you like a warm wave, as you realise that all the effort, Yunho's unwavering support, and Professor Turner's belief in you is beginning to pay off. 

You cannot wait to let Yunho know about the news.

The campus courtyard was alive with activity as students milled about, enjoying the pleasant weather and the break from their studies. Among the various clusters of friends, you spot Yunho, standing with a small group of his own. His friends seem to be engaged in an animated conversation, their voices and laughter filling the air. 

You observe Yunho for a brief moment, his expression appearing neutral as he attentively listens to his friend's conversation. Your gaze then drifts down to the sight of Yunho pulling up the sleeves of his knitted sweater, revealing his unexpectedly well-defined forearms. The contrast between his baggy clothing and his toned physique momentarily catches you off guard.

But as you approach, your excitement is impossible to contain, the momentary thought of how toned Yunho is elsewhere leaves your mind. Your heart races, and you feel a surge of joy within you. The sense of accomplishment overwhelms you, and you can’t wait to share the news with Yunho, regardless of the audience.

Without hesitation, you stride purposefully toward him, determination etched across your face. The moment you reach him, you suddenly feel a little small under the eyes of his friends who seem to have noticed you approaching.

“Yunho,” you say gently, attempting to get his attention.

Yunho turns around, surprised to see you talking to him outside of your study sessions.

“Hey, what’s up?” Yunho questions, his attention fully on you as he forgets his friends existence.

“I passed the exam,” you beam, “well barely it was only a C.”

Yunho’s eyes widen as his face breaks into a bright, genuine smile. His eyes, behind his thick glasses, now sparkle with delight. 

"That's amazing! I knew you could do it!" he exclaims, his enthusiasm matching yours.

His friends can’t resist exchanging glances among themselves, finding it rather peculiar to witness your conversation with Yunho. After all, you are a highly popular figure in their school, while Yunho remains a reserved and relatively unknown individual.

The smile of pride that graces Yunho's face stirs a flurry of butterflies in your stomach, a sensation that has become increasingly common in recent times. Yet, you can't quite bring yourself to acknowledge the feeling, even to yourself.

Yunho's hand rises with a touch of hesitation before gently resting on the top of your head, playfully ruffling your hair to convey a silent 'good job.' Your entire face warms at the simple gesture, a blush creeping across your cheeks.

"Now, it's time to focus on those major tests, okay?" Yunho exclaims, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he makes an effort to infuse you with the same excitement.

"Yes, sir," you respond with a playful salute, evoking a chuckle from his lips. Saluting Yunho has become somewhat of a habit, and he finds it endearing every time you do it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then?” 

You offer a nod, a warm smile gracing your face as you wave and bid farewell to Yunho and his friends.

Walking away, you feel a deep sense of gratitude for Yunho's unwavering support, not just as a tutor but as a friend who is being a great help in your journey toward success. 

His encouragement had been a driving force in your recent accomplishments, and you couldn't have been happier to share this victory with him and his friends in the vibrant courtyard, a testament to the bonds forged through your academic pursuits.

As you depart, Yunho's gaze lingers on your retreating figure, a faint smile gracing his lips as he replays the conversation in his mind. The moment you vanish from his sight, his friends swivel toward him, their faces etched with bewilderment and curiosity.

"When you mentioned you were tutoring someone, you didn't say it was them?" Wooyoung exclaims, genuine confusion stemming from the exchange they just witnessed.

Yunho, momentarily caught off guard by their reactions, inquires, "What do you mean?" He shifts his attention toward the group, ready to address their inquiries.

"Dude, she's the most popular person in this school; you don't just get to talk to them," San chimes in, his astonishment mirroring Wooyoung's.

Yunho, however, didn't buy into the notion of social hierarchies. He pokes San in the forehead, responding, "We're not in high school anymore, and there's no such thing as popular girls and guys."

Wooyoung's expression softens as he mulls over your interaction. "And they were so nice," he continues, noting Yunho's reaction. "I didn't expect someone with their status to be so nice."

Yunho's annoyance flares at the stereotype implied in Wooyoung's words, his brow furrowing. "Don't hold such stereotypes," he chastises his friend. "They... they are the sweetest person I know."

San's eyes widen as he glances at Yunho, connecting the dots. "Holy moly," he exclaims. "You like them, don't you?"

Yunho scrambles to hush him up, his cheeks flushing. "Shut up," he grumbles, though the embarrassment in his voice hints at a deeper truth.

—

“Ugh, I’m never going to pass this test,” you groan as you throw your head into your hands, frustration emitting from your every fibre.

"Come on, don't be so pessimistic. You've got this, and I believe in you," Yunho exclaims, his warm smile casting a ray of encouragement over the room. He watches as you succumb to a hissy fit, a mix of frustration and self-doubt, a smile covering his features at your actions.

"You always say that, but this time I am doomed," you groan, your voice muffled by your hands as you bury your face in them.

Gently, Yunho reaches out and takes your hands, coaxing them away from your face. The contact sends a brief tremor through your heart, and you can’t help but notice the warmth of his touch.

"You can do it; you're the smartest person I know," Yunho says softly, locking his eyes with yours. His words catch you off guard, and you look at him, a puzzled expression furrowing your brow. 

"I'm not smart; if I were, I wouldn't need a tutor," you state flatly, a hint of self-deprecation in your tone, which elicits a chuckle from Yunho.

"I'd be an idiot not to see your potential. I just think you had your priorities muddled when you first came here," he remarks.

Curious, you probe further. "What do you mean?"

"I mean it's no secret you enjoy a party," Yunho replies.

"No, before that."

"Oh," Yunho responds, and he continues, seemingly on a roll, "Well, I'd have to be blind not to see how smart you actually are. You're very capable of applying knowledge and solving problems. You have an excellent memory; most of the time, I only have to explain something once, and you've already processed it and applied it. It's very impressive. You're incredibly talented too. I see all the drawings you do in your book when you’re bored."

Yunho continues his praise, yet he is unaware of the emotions that well up within you. When he eventually glances in your direction, he is taken aback to find your eyes glistening with tears and a smile gracing your face.

"Did I say something wrong? I'm so sorry if it wasn't my intention," he inquires quickly, a sense of concern crossing his features as he worries he may have inadvertently hurt your feelings.

You shake your head and wipe away a tear, still smiling. "No, Yunho. It's just... no one really sees me like that anymore."

Now Yunho is confused for a different reason. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, most people see me as the 'popular girl' or 'the life of the party.' I don't know. It's nice to be seen as something other than the stereotype.”

"I know what you mean," Yunho says, his hand ruffling his hair as his cheeks turn a faint shade of red.

"What do you mean?" you ask, intrigued by his response.

"Well, I'm usually seen as a nerd or a loner. People only talk to me when they need help with assignments or answers for exams. It was nice at first, feeling needed, but now it just feels like I'm being used in a way. I only have two friends, and they spend more time with each other than they do with me." Yunho admits, his gaze drifting down to his fingers, where he idly picks at a piece of dead skin on his nail.

"I know it's weird coming from me since you're literally my tutor, but I don't think your intelligence defines you," You begin, causing Yunho to look up at you with a puzzled expression, waiting for you to elaborate.

You continue, your words flowing with sincerity, "You're a sweetheart, Yunho. I see you helping people, not because you have to, but because you genuinely enjoy it. You're kind, a gentleman, and incredibly thoughtful. Your sense of humour is beyond anyone I've ever met before; it's refreshing to talk to someone whose humour isn't just 'your momma' jokes or making others look bad to get a laugh."

Yunho furrows his eyebrows, taking in your words, his expression almost studying them.

"Plus," you add, a warm smile gracing your face, "whether you like it or not, I consider you my friend."

—

The evening sun casts a warm glow over the campus as you join your friend group in the bustling cafeteria. Laughter and chatter filled the air as you settled in with them at your usual table. The topic of conversation quickly turns to the party happening later in the night, an event that has become increasingly rare for you to attend. The thought of partying when there was a crucial final exam on the horizon weighs heavily on your mind.

"Hey, you are coming to the party tonight, right?" your friend asks, a glimmer of anticipation in their eyes.

You hesitate for a moment, knowing what your priorities were. "I wish I could, but I really need to study for the final exam," you explain.

Immediately, your friends' expressions grow sour, and they exchange incredulous glances. "Again? You're always studying or making excuses. It's like you're avoiding us," one of them remarks, frustration creeping into their tone.

Their words sting, and you feel the pressure of their expectations bearing down on you. "I'm not avoiding anyone; I just have to prioritise my studies, you guys know I might get expelled." you insist, your voice wavering slightly as you try to maintain your composure.

But your friends aren’t satisfied with your explanation. 

"You never come to parties anymore. You're turning into a loser nerd, just like that loner Yunho," another friend declares with a snide tone, and the others chime in agreement, chuckles leaving their mouths.

The words strike a nerve, and you can’t hold back any longer. How dare they insult Yunho, who has been there for you during your toughest times of studying? The anger that has been building up inside you erupts.

"Yunho is not a loser," you snap, your voice filled with indignation. "He's been more of a friend to me than any of you. If you can't understand the importance of my studies and support me, then I don't need ‘friends’ like you."

At that moment, you make a decision. These friends are just immature individuals who only care about getting drunk and partying. They value popularity and shallow connections over your well-being and academic success. You have had enough of pretending to be something you weren't just to fit in.

"I don't care about popularity if it means I have to be fake and have fake-ass friends," you exclaim. With that, you push your chair back and leave the table, leaving your former friends behind, realising that true friendship means understanding and respecting your priorities, not forcing you to compromise your goals.

Walking away from the cafeteria, you feel a mix of anger, relief, and sadness. It was painful to let go of friendships that had once meant so much to you, but you knew that your academic journey is more important than trying to fit into a mould that didn't truly represent who you were.

Tears well up in your eyes, and you can’t prevent them from spilling over as you stand just outside the school gates. You pay no mind to the curious glances of onlookers, for your emotions are too overwhelming to be hidden. You aren’t entirely certain if these tears are born of sadness, frustration, or a turbulent mix of both.

Without even thinking, you pull out your phone and dial Yunho’s number. You are not sure if you want to be alone tonight, yet you definitely do not want to go to a party. The only person you know will be available is Yunho. Maybe you can have an extra study session tonight.

It takes the phone only five seconds before Yunho picks up, his voice bright as he greets you.

"Hey, Yunho," you begin, attempting to maintain a sense of composure, but the tremor in your voice reveals your unease.

Yunho's keen ear picks up on the shakiness in your tone, and concern washes over him as he responds with a soft, soothing voice, "What's wrong?"

You sniffle, trying to brush off the emotions threatening to overcome you. "Nothing, it's nothing," you reply, your voice still carrying the traces of distress. "Are you free to study? I don't have anything to do, and I need to go over a few things."

Yunho is aware that a big party is scheduled for tonight, information he had gathered from Wooyoung, who also enjoys such gatherings. He finds it puzzling that you, too, had initially expressed an interest in attending the event, but he refrained from voicing his curiosity.

"I am free, but the library is closed today, and the school is closing soon too," Yunho explains, an idea begins to take root in his mind, and he hesitates before asking, "You could come to my place?"

The offer hangs in the air for a moment, full of unspoken implications. Yunho's excitement about the prospect of having you over is palpable, yet he tries to maintain his composure. He knows that his place will offer a quiet environment for studying.

The offer hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, you hesitate. You are well aware that accepting Yunho's invitation would signify a slight shift in your academic tutor relationship. The unspoken implications dance in the silence between you.

Yunho, on the other hand, finds his nervousness manifesting in the way he chews the inside of his cheek. His heart races as he awaits your response, unsure of how you would react to his proposition.

Despite your initial reservations, you can’t seem to bring yourself to decline his offer. The warmth and genuine concern that Yunho has consistently shown makes you feel safe and comfortable around him, and you find it difficult to resist the idea of studying in his presence, even if it means stepping slightly outside the boundaries of your tutor-student dynamic.

“What’s your address?” 

Making your way to Yunho's apartment, the anticipation of seeing him outside the usual academic setting adds an extra layer of excitement to your steps. The prospect of stepping into his personal space, even for a study session, feels like a small adventure.

You reach his apartment door and take a moment to collect yourself, your heart beating just a bit faster with each passing second. When you knock, the immediate rustling sounds from the other side of the door indicate that Yunho is indeed home.

The door opens, revealing a sight that takes your breath away. You are accustomed to seeing Yunho in smart attire, his hair always neatly styled, and he consistently looks presentable. However, the man who stands before you now is quite different.

Yunho is dressed in a loose grey T-shirt that hangs comfortably on his frame, and he wears a pair of black sweatpants that appear as cosy as they are casual. His hair is fluffy and untamed, in stark contrast to his usually well-groomed appearance. Yet, for some reason, this version of Yunho is just as captivating.

He still wears his thick glasses, but the way he looks now, so relaxed and approachable, makes your heart flutter. You can’t help but notice the subtle differences that render him all the more appealing. Your eyes linger on his toned arms, a part of him that was typically concealed beneath his attire. The sight of them, revealed in the simple T-shirt, is enough to send a rush of warmth throughout your body.

Yunho's appearance today is a stark departure from his usual academic demeanour, and it leaves you both pleasantly surprised and, admittedly, a little flustered. 

"Hey, uh, you can come in," Yunho stammers, a faint blush covering his cheeks.

You step inside, casting a brief but appreciative glance around Yunho's apartment. The space is on the smaller side, but it exudes a cosy charm that instantly puts you at ease. The apartment is immaculately clean and well-organised with a sense of tranquillity that contrasts with the bustling student life outside.

The living room is adorned with shelves, and the shelves are full of an impressive array of books, neatly arranged in rows. The sight of so many books gives you a glimpse into the depth of his knowledge and his passion for education.

As you look around, you notice a comfortable-looking sofa with a warm throw blanket tossed over it, a sign of a space that was both functional and inviting. The soft glow of a desk lamp illuminated a study area with a well-kept desk, hinting at countless hours of diligent work.

Yunho's apartment is not large, but it feels like a haven for anyone seeking a peaceful refuge from the outside world. It reminds you of Yunho.

"Do you want something to drink or eat?" Yunho asks, his voice tinged with a touch of nervousness as he observes your exploration of his apartment.

You take a moment to absorb the cosy ambiance of his living space before replying, "Have you had dinner?"

Yunho's cheeks flush a deeper shade of red, and a small, endearing smile graced his lips. “I haven't yet, I was going to order something later.”

“Can we eat together? I haven't eaten since this morning.”

Yunho grumbles your name, reprimanding you, "I told you, you need to eat regularly; it helps with..."

You finish his sentence with a soft chuckle, "Concentration, I know, Yu."

The use of the affectionate nickname "Yu" slips easily from your lips, and you are unaware of the profound impact it has on Yunho. His heart races at the sound of it, though he tries to hide his reaction with a smile. 

You continue, "We can eat while studying, right?" Your suggestion seems to lighten the mood, and Yunho is more than willing to accommodate your request.

“Of course.”

Yunho and you sit on the floor of his living room, your books and notes spread out on his coffee table, which also hold the remnants of an empty pizza box from your meal earlier. This makeshift study space is cosy, and the atmosphere is filled with the shared pursuit of knowledge.

Yunho is positioned in front of you, as he often is during your study sessions, carefully watching you as you diligently take notes. He couldn't help but admire your dedication and determination, and his heart swelled with pride as he saw your progress. 

As you write, a strand of hair slips from behind your ear and falls in front of your face. It is a simple, everyday occurrence, but to Yunho, it is a moment of subtle beauty. He feels a strong urge to reach out and tuck that strand of hair behind your ear, to be close to you in that small, intimate way. However, he holds back, not wanting to push any boundaries that existed between you. 

He watches with fascination as you decide to tie your hair up, using a hairband that was on your wrist. The act of gathering your hair and securing it in a ponytail seems almost magical to him. Yunho can’t deny the allure of how you look with your hair up, a sense of casual elegance that tugs at his heart.

In this moment, his thoughts stray to less innocent territories, but he quickly redirects his focus to the task at hand. He can’t afford to let his mind wander too far, not when the two of you are deep in a study session and he is fairly certain you would never harbour feelings for him in that way. 

However, the image of you with your hair tied up stays with him, etched into his memory, a reminder of the many facets of your charm that make it increasingly difficult for him to keep his feelings at bay.

You furrow your brows, attempting to decipher a particularly complex passage about pathogens. It is a subject that has always managed to baffle you, and tonight was no exception.

Glancing up, you are caught off guard by the intense gaze of Yunho. He was already intently staring at you, an indescribable emotion in his eyes. Clearing your throat, you shift your focus back to the book, feeling the weight of his attention. Yunho immediately averts his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in his own book.

Taking a deep breath, you decide to take a chance and ask the question that has been bothering you about the microorganism. "Yunho, can you help me with this? I don't quite understand this."

Yunho's attention snaps back to you, his eyes focusing on the book. However, as he leans in to get a better look, the words on the page seem to blur. Determined to help you, he moves closer, sitting next to you on the floor. His arm brushing against yours, his thigh lightly touching yours, creates a subtle yet undeniable physical connection.

Yunho looks down at your bare thighs and he mentally curses you for wearing a skirt, he isn't sure how to pay attention when you are so close to him.

Yunho begins to explain the terminology and you find it increasingly challenging to concentrate on the subject. Your eyes are locked on his face, drawn to the way his lips move and the subtle changes in his expression as he explains the concepts. His proximity was both distracting and comforting, and you can’t help but feel a flutter of excitement in your chest.

You cannot deny the allure of Yunho's presence. His crisp scent, a mix of a rich, woody sweetness and a hint of cologne, fills your senses and sends your mind racing. It is an intoxicating aroma that evokes a sense of freshness and warmth, creating an almost magnetic pull.

Listening to Yunho's explanations, you struggle to keep your focus on the topic at hand. Your eyes remain fixed on his face, capturing the play of emotions and the genuine care he puts into helping you understand. In this moment, the connection between you is undeniable, and the unspoken tension in the air seems to grow with each passing second. Little did you both know the profound effect you are having on each other as you lean against one another, on the verge of something unspoken. The second Yunho moves back to his seat, you suddenly feel awfully cold and empty, yet once again you push the feelings away.

The two of you continue your study session, when Yunho suddenly removes his glasses and rubs his eyes in a gesture of weariness. His actions catch your attention, and your gaze remains locked on his face, momentarily entranced by the change in his appearance.

In all the time you have spent with Yunho, you have never really taken into consideration how handsome he might be without his glasses. Now, as you observe his bare face, you are struck by his natural beauty. His features are chiselled and symmetrical, and there is a timeless quality to his face that make him incredibly appealing.

Yunho's clear eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, hold a depth that you haven't fully appreciated before. His skin was smooth and unblemished, and his lips had a natural rosy hue. It was as if a veil had been lifted, revealing a different charm to him that you have never taken the time to notice.

For a moment, you find yourself in awe of how genuinely handsome he is, and you can’t help but appreciate the sight of him with his glasses off.

The study session is coming to a close, and as you gather your books and notes, you notice a curious look on Yunho's face. It is evident that he has something on his mind, and your curiosity gets the best of you.

"Is there something??" you inquire, your voice soft and inquisitive.

Yunho hesitates for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "When you called, you seemed upset. You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but I was just worried."

You look at him with a touch of surprise at his perceptiveness. 

The fight with your friends wasn’t something you had planned to discuss, but you can sense the genuine concern in Yunho's expression, and you feel compelled to share.

Taking a deep breath, you begin to explain the situation, recounting the immaturity and unfair accusations that had led to the fallout. Yunho's shock and disbelief at their behaviour is palpable, and his expression reveals a mix of sympathy and frustration on your behalf.

"I can't believe they'd act like that," Yunho exclaims, his voice laced with sympathy. "It's their loss, you know. You're an incredible person, and they're the ones who are missing out."

Yunho's words are comforting, and the warmth of his understanding makes you feel as if a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. It is a rare and welcome feeling to have someone truly empathise with your situation, and you find yourself grateful for his support.

Yunho watches you with a tender look when suddenly his curiosity gets the best of him, and he asks, "What does your boyfriend think of you coming to my house and spending so much time with me?"

You let out a sigh, the question touching a nerve you are not quite ready to address. "I don't have a boyfriend," you confess, and for a moment, there is a hint of vulnerability in your voice.

Yunho, genuinely surprised, raises an eyebrow, trying to hide his excitement as he peers at you. "Why not?"

You sigh again, your gaze dropping to the floor. "Most of the boys I'm around aren't ready for a relationship. They just want something casual, and I don't want to get my heart broken."

Yunho's brow furrows as he considers your response. "I didn't expect that," he admits, his voice tinged with surprise.

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious about his reaction.

Yunho sets a piece of paper he had been studying in front of him, "I mean, you have guys falling at your feet. Don't you have one person you enjoy spending time with?"

You ponder on his words, your eyes lingering on Yunho, who is now fully engaged in the paper. He isn't looking at you; instead, his gaze is focused on the words before him. 

After a moment of contemplation, you respond, "I enjoy spending time with you."

The second the  words leave your lips, Yunho looks up from his reading, and the world seems to momentarily stand still around you. His heart skips a beat, and for a fraction of a second, everything else fades into the background. Your words hang in the air, and Yunho lets them sink in.

In this suspended moment, it is as if the universe conspired to create a connection that went beyond friendship and tutoring. Yunho's heart pounds in his chest, and he can’t help but meet your gaze with a mixture of surprise and affection. 

Yunho cannot deny the impact of your confession. It is a sentiment he has quietly harboured but never dared to voice. Now, as the reality of your words settle in, he can’t help but feel a sense of joy and gratitude for the special bond that has grown between you, transcending the boundaries of tutor and student.

—

The night is alive with the promise of revelry as you arrive at a party, a whirlwind of colour and sound. It has been some time since you'd attended such an event, focusing intensely on your studies. But tonight is different. Hongjoong, an old friend who had no knowledge of falling out with your other friends, had invited you. You trusted him not to judge your academic priorities, and the prospect of enjoying yourself was too tempting to resist.

You had chosen to let loose for the evening. After an intense study session last night, you felt you deserved a break. You wear a stunning deep purple dress that hugs your curves, accentuating your figure in all the right places. The fabric clings to you like a second skin, and its elegance draws the admiring gazes of many in attendance. Though you are well aware of the attention, you can’t help but feel indifferent to it now. Your priorities have shifted, and the superficial desires of others hold little sway over you.

Entering the party, the vibrant atmosphere envelopes you. The music throbs with an infectious beat, and the dance floor pulses with people lost in the rhythm. Laughter and conversations fill the air, and the warm glow of colourful lights creates a dazzling backdrop for the night's festivities.

Spotting Hongjoong in the kitchen, you make your way through the bustling crowd. He is deeply engrossed in a lively conversation with some of his friends, a characteristic grin lighting up his face. A sense of nostalgia and anticipation welled up within you as you drew closer.

You approach Hongjoong, who is mingling near the drinks table, a welcoming smile on his face as he spots you. 

“Do you want a drink?” He offers, but you decline, stating that you have an early lecture the next morning. 

Hongjoong nods understandingly, knowing you are dedicated to your studies. You are grateful for his response, as he does not press the issue but simply smiles and continues with the conversation.

“So you’ve gone back to your nerd roots,” Hongjoong jokes as he hands you a cup of cola.

You laugh as you take the cup, “it’s been a while since I've studied this hard,”

“You were always stuck in a book in highschool,” 

“It’s nice to feel like my brain isn't rotting anymore,” you exclaim laughing.

“I’ll cheers to that,”

As you chat with Hongjoong, you enjoy catching up and the lively atmosphere of the party. When all of a sudden you see a familiar figure from the corner of your eye. At first, you thought your mind might be playing tricks on you, but as you turn your head, you realise it was indeed who you thought it was.

Quickly, you bid a quick goodbye to Hongjoong and make your way through the crowd, heading straight for the person, who seems to be stumbling around slightly. 

Concern etched on your face, you approach him and ask, "Yunho, what on earth are you doing here?"

Yunho's expression is a mix of surprise and embarrassment as he struggles to regain his composure. "Uh… I’m not really sure," he admits, his voice tinged with nervousness.

You can’t help but feel a combination of amusement and warmth at his unexpected presence. Yunho, who usually exudes an air of composed intelligence, seems to be a bit out of his element in the party scene. Nonetheless, you appreciated the effort he made to be there. 

"Are you okay?" You question, his anxious eyes dart around the crowded room, taking in the chaotic atmosphere of the party.

Yunho hesitates for a moment before admitting, "Would it be weird if I said I don't like it here?"

A warm smile graces your face, understanding his unease in this unfamiliar setting. Without hesitation, you reach out and gently grab his hand, your fingers interlocking boldly. Yunho is taken aback by the physical contact, feeling the warmth of your hand in his, and his heart flutters in response.

You lead him to a more secluded area of the house where the music is not as deafening, and the crowd is much thinner. The change of scenery provides a welcome respite from the overwhelming chaos of the main party area. Yunho can’t ignore the way your small hands feel in his large ones, the sensation sending a shiver down his spine. It is a simple gesture, but it makes him feel closer to you, dispelling some of his unease.

In the quieter, more secluded area of the house, you and Yunho find a temporary refuge from the bustling party. 

"What are you really doing here?" you ask, curiosity in your eyes.

Yunho's expression shifts, and he admits, "Wooyoung dragged me here. I didn't really want to come, and I already don't like it." His eyes scan the room, taking in the scene around him.

For a moment, Yunho's gaze settles on you, and he notices your choice of attire, a short, form-fitting dress that accentuates your curves. It is a striking sight that leaves an indelible impression on him. His mind wanders to non-innocent places, etching the image of you in this dress into his memory. He can’t deny that you look stunning, and his thoughts momentarily venture into uncharted territory.

Although his initial discomfort at the party has faded, the sight of you in that dress stirs something within him, something he has only thought of late at night. It is an unexpected sight that leaves Yunho in a state of internal turmoil, struggling to keep his thoughts in check as he tries to focus on the conversation at hand.

The pulsating music and the chaotic atmosphere of the party seems to close in around you. Suddenly a thought crosses your mind, and you turn to Yunho, considering your options.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice barely audible over the party noise.

Your question snaps Yunho out of his thoughts, and he looks back up at you as if he had been caught taking in your form. His gaze meets yours, and for a brief moment, you can see the vulnerability in his eyes. It is a rare sight, and it makes you feel even more connected to him.

It takes less than a second for Yunho to answer, "Yes."

Without further hesitation, he intertwines your fingers with his, and you both rush towards the exit of the house. Yunho's larger frame shields you from the reckless partiers who are going strong, ensuring you don't get caught in the chaos of the crowd. The touch of his hand is both reassuring and electrifying, and it feels like an unspoken agreement between the two of you; an escape from the madness into a more tranquil and intimate setting.

You are not sure how you ended up at Yunho’s apartment, yet you cannot quite complain. Since the study session at his house you have desired to be back at his, it was so comforting and peaceful in his house and you love it there. 

"You can make yourself at home, I'm going to grab us some food," Yunho explains as he opens the door to his cosy apartment. He moves to grab his wallet from the coffee table, ready to head out to pick up the food. 

However, as he attempts to pass you and make his way to the door, you stand in front of him, blocking his path. The look on your face reveals your disappointment, and it is clear that you don’t want him to leave so soon.

"Can we order it?" you ask, your voice filled with a longing for his company.

Yunho hesitates for a moment, weighing the options, but he ultimately replies, "It'll be quicker for me to get it now."

Despite his practical reasoning, you insisted, "Please stay with me Yunho."

Yunho can’t help but be touched by your plea. The vulnerability in your voice causes a flutter in his chest, and he is acutely aware of the genuine connection that has developed between you. He smiles and relents, realising that he doesn’t want to leave you either.

"Okay," he speaks softly, "I'll order it."

Your gratitude was evident in your eyes, and you knew you had made the right decision. Yunho's presence is something you cherished, and you are both beginning to understand just how much the other means to you.

You settle onto his couch, and soon enough the Chinese takeout that you had ordered arrives, the delightful aroma filling the room. It is a welcomed comfort that you both enjoy as you unwrap the containers and share the delicious meal. 

You watch as Yunho picks a movie that he recommends, and you were intrigued to see his choice.

As you and Yunho start to watch the movie, you can’t help but feel a chill in the room. The soft glow from the TV illuminated your silhouette, the short dress you are wearing now seems impractical in the cosy setting.

Yunho, ever attentive, notices your discomfort and decides to speak up. "Are you cold?" he inquires, a hint of concern in his voice.

You hesitate for a moment but soon admit, "Yeah, a little."

Without further ado, Yunho offers a solution. "I have some warmer clothes you can borrow if you want. I could grab them for you."

His thoughtful gesture leaves you flustered, but you manage to stammer out a grateful "Yes, please." Your heart warms at the consideration he shows, and you appreciate his willingness to make you more comfortable.

Yunho quickly gets up and disappears into his bedroom. He returns with a hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, both of which were his own. His choice of clothing was deliberate, as he handed you his favourite hoodie. He has often wondered what you would look like wearing it, and now he has the perfect excuse to find out. The hoodie is warm and smells like him, making you feel closer to him in a way you hadn't anticipated.

Yunho can’t help but watch you with a warm smile as you accept the clothes. However, the smile quickly fades as he realises his mistake, and he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"Oh, sorry," he quickly stutters out, chuckling nervously as he ruffles the back of his hair, "You can change in my bedroom."

You laugh gently at him, he is so cute.

“Thank you,” you smile before walking into his bedroom.

Entering Yunho's bedroom, you can’t help but take in the clean and organised space. His room is a testament to his meticulous nature, and you appreciate the attention to detail. But what truly catches your eye are the posters of various games adorning the walls. You admired the artwork and can’t help but think that they add a personal touch to the room.

Shaking off the distraction, you proceed to change into Yunho's clothes. The hoodie he has given you is larger than you expected, enveloping you in warmth and reaching down to your mid-thigh. The realisation of just how big Yunho begins to dawn on you.

His hoodie seems to swallow you in its comfort, and you can’t help but feel a little bit smaller. His physical presence is undeniable; he is taller than you, his shoulders are broad, and his hands are significantly larger than yours. The contrast is alluring, and you can’t deny that the thought of him towering over you, his sheer size and strength, stirs something within you.

You feel arousal pooling in between your legs, but you push aside the feeling, not sure if Yunho would feel the same way.

The hoodie is so long, you make a bold choice to not wear the sweatpants, seeing as the hoodie covers everything. Plus, there's no harm in seeing Yunho’s reaction.

You step out of the room, and Yunho is skimming between channels, trying to find a different movie to watch.

When Yunho hears your footsteps approaching the living room, he turns around to look at you, expecting to see you in his clothes. However, what he sees leaves his heart nearly stopping. There you stand, wearing nothing but his hoodie, your legs exposed and on full display. 

Yunho's breath catches in his throat, and he swallows deeply, trying to suppress the flood of sensations and indecent thoughts that surge through his mind. His cheeks flush a deep shade of red, and he is unable to tear his eyes away from you, his gaze inadvertently lingering on your enticing figure.

In this moment, he finds himself captivated by your beauty and the unexpected intimacy of the situation, struggling to maintain his composure. The sight of you in his hoodie was something he had never expected, and it sends his heart and mind into a whirlwind of emotions and desires.

"What's wrong?" you inquire, noticing the wide-eyed and bright red expression on Yunho's face as he gazes at you with an intensity you haven't seen before.

It is as if a switch has flipped in Yunho's mind, and suddenly, confidence takes over his being. You watch in amazement as he stands up from the couch and moves with a determined purpose towards you. 

With each step, it is evident that he is almost out of breath, his chest heaving with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. He stops in front of you, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that sends shivers down your spine. For a moment, you feel like you are the only person in the world for him, and the possessiveness in his gaze doesn’t go unnoticed.

Yunho's large hands land gently on your shoulders, and they slowly trail down to clasp yours. His touch is electrifying, and as he guides you backward, you soon find yourself pressed against the wall, pinned there by his presence. The air seems charged with an unspoken desire, and you can’t help but be captivated by this new side of Yunho.

Yunho murmurs your name, his voice thick with desire and uncertainty. He continues, "You can tell me to stop if you want..."

You don’t hesitate for a moment. In a hushed, eager tone, you reply, "Yunho, just kiss me for fuck's sake."

Yunho gently cups your cheek, his dark eyes locked onto yours with a mixture of tenderness and desire. Leaning closer, his lips press against your cheek, leaving a trail of fire in their wake as they venture down toward your mouth. He pauses for a moment, watching you closely, his breath brushing across your face, sending shivers down your spine.

With careful consideration, he presses his lips to the corner of your mouth, testing the waters, and eliciting a soft gasp from you. Feeling the tightening grip of your hand on his shirt, he gains the reassurance he needs to continue. Slowly, he deepens the kiss, his lips melding with yours, the softness and warmth sending a wave of astonishment through your body. His lips move against yours and all the feelings of the past few months pour into the kiss.

Yunho delicately probes his tongue into your mouth, you can’t help but respond. Your fingers tighten their hold on his shirt, and a surge of electric sensations course through your body, leaving you breathless and eager for more. 

Yunho's kiss tastes like pure indulgence, a blend of desire and longing that leaves you yearning for more. The feeling is exquisite, and you can’t help but moan softly in response to the intensity of the moment. 

His lips leave yours, trailing down your neck from the curve of your jaw. Soft gasps escape your lips as he explores the sensitive skin of your throat, sending shivers down your spine as he presses you harder against the wall, the heat of the kiss overcoming the two of you. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you instinctively threw your head back, granting him better access to your neck. 

Yunho breaks away from the kiss, a hint of frustration in his eyes as he tosses his glasses aside, irritated by their intrusion. His dark and intense gaze is now fully revealed, making you realise the depth of his desire. Without delay, he reconnects your lips with a hungry passion that leaves you breathless.

His hands begin a journey down your waist, their touch igniting sparks of pleasure. With astonishing ease, he lifts you off your feet, his strength both surprising and exciting. Instinctively, you wrap your legs around his waist, and that is when you feel his hardness prodding you through your underwear. You suddenly feel extremely thankful for not wearing the sweatpants as he now has easier access to where you want him most.

Yunho carries you toward his bedroom with an air of urgency, his strides confident and determined. With a swift, well-placed kick, he sends the bedroom door wide open.

He gently sits on the edge of the mattress, you find yourself in his lap, the warmth of his body enveloping you. The world outside fades into insignificance, and you are left with a sense of anticipation that sends shivers down your spine. The connection between you and Yunho grew stronger, and the intensity of the moment only heightened your desire for one another.

Yunho’s hands travel to your hips, where he kneads the flesh appreciatively. With a calculated move, he pushes you down onto himself, grinding you against his hardness. This causes the both of you to moan into the kiss, the both of you addicted to the sound.

“Yunho, please,” you mutter into the kiss, needing relief that you know Yunho will provide.

“What do you want, beautiful?” Yunho groans back against your lips when he feels you grinding yourself onto him.

“You.” you say with confidence, “always been you.” you declare and it has Yunho’s heart racing even faster in his chest.

Yunho realises the fun he can have in this situation, and he feels addicted to the control he has over you. You bury your face into Yunho’s neck, your embarrassment becoming apparent.

“How badly?” Yunho teases as he places long hot kisses on the side of your neck.

“Please Yunho, please.” usually you would feel humiliated, yet you have no time to feel any form of embarrassment, your desire is too strong. With a swift yet tender movement, Yunho deftly flips the two of you over, your back now resting on the plush comfort of his bed. He settles between your open legs, the space between you filled with electrifying anticipation as the world around you blurred into obscurity. 

“Since you’re such a good girl, I have to take care of you, don’t I?”

Yunho's transformation is nothing short of mesmerising. The once innocent aura that surrounded him has gone, replaced by a commanding presence that leaves your head spinning. It is as if he has unlocked a hidden side of himself, and the intensity of his actions and words leave you completely captivated and yearning for more.

With a gentle motion, Yunho pulls the hoodie off, revealing your bare chest to his hungry eyes. He takes in the sight of your naked top half and your panties and it is better than all the times he has imagined it. Your nipples immediately harden in the chilly air and you hastily rush to cover yourself.

“Do not,” Yunho's gentle yet commanding voice holds you in its sway, preventing you from covering yourself. He takes hold of your wrists, his words alone enough to convey his desire, and you obediently nod in agreement, unable to resist his irresistible influence.

“Gorgeous,” he whispers as he scans over your body.

Yunho begins to leave soft kisses across your collar bones, reaching your shoulders and neck as he simultaneously massages the flesh of your breast. He leaves open mouthed kisses on your skin, suckling and biting marks into your skin that only he gets to see.

Slowly, he takes one nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it, sucking it, and biting the sensitive nub, an action that has you arching and moaning into his touch.

“You sound so beautiful moaning for me.” Yunho growls before moving to your other nipple and giving it the same attention, making sure to watch your every reaction.

In an agonising pace, Yunho trails his kisses down and you can almost feel yourself shaking from excitement as he nears where you need him the most.

You almost explode the second you feel Yunho’s mouth trailing along your thighs, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.

Yunho chuckles darkly when he hears your excited gasps and moans, the sounds are like a beautiful melody to him, causing him to want more.

Yunho's sudden act of sitting up to remove his jumper catches your attention, and your eyes remain fixated on him. What you see beneath his clothes surprises you. His toned, well-defined upper body, his waist is slender, his shoulders are broad, giving him a somewhat hourglass-like figure. While he isn’t overly muscular, his physique was indeed a captivating sight. Chiselled abs adorn his stomach, and an irresistible desire wells up within you, compelling you to kiss every inch of his flawless skin.

Yunho's chest swells with pride as he observes your intense gaze on his body. He can hardly believe the turn of events and the desire he sees in your eyes.

Yunho smirks as your hands fumble towards his belt, desperately wanting his pants off. 

"Patience, doll," Yunho asserts, his voice exuding confidence as he helps you remove his belt.

Left in only his boxers, you can see his length outlined through his black boxers and your breath is momentarily taken away. He is big, very big. You cannot help but let out a whimper of desperation as you look back up Yunho, who has a cocky grin on his features.

Leaning down, he starts placing light kisses on your stomach and thighs, getting close, but not quite close enough for your liking.

Instinctively, you run your fingers through his locks, trying to push him closer to where you need him. You hear Yunho chuckle at your eagerness, his heart racing knowing you want him as much as he wants you.

You watch Yunho’s every move, wanting to imprint every moment deep into your memory.

Yunho presses a gentle kiss against your clothed core, eliciting a soft mewl from your lips and Yunho hums in appreciation. You feel your whole body heat up in embarrassment as Yunho pulls your panties down, tossing them to the side of the room. You attempt to close your legs, feeling extremely exposed. Yunho feels himself losing self control as he looks at your soaking core, yet he tells himself to control his urges, wanting to make this last for much longer.

Yunho isn’t pleased with this and he lets out a growl as he speaks, “open those legs and let me see that pretty pussy.”

He grips your thighs, forcing them open and you can't help feel another rush of arousal course through you from his strength. It annoys you how slow he is, taking his time to get where you need him, he is too busy enjoying every small reaction, your desperation and eye fucking you, gauging every one of your gasps and twitches.

Yet the second his lips are on your core, the loud moan you let out is close to a scream and you feel him raviging you. His mouth works expertly against you, his tongue alternating between flicking your clit to lapping at your soaking hole has you seeing stars. 

Your body squirms with pleasure under Yunho's skilled touch, your fingers instinctively weaving into his hair as he eats you like you are his last meal.

“Yunho, please…” your voice is hoarse as you look down at him.

Yunho gazes up at you, a teasing smirk playing on his lips, making your thoughts hazy.

“Please what, pretty?” Yunho questions, yet as you are about to answer, he slips in one of his long fingers into your core. The second he feels your warm walls around him, he feels himself fighting the urge to destroy you right there and then. You jolt at the sensation, tears lining your eyes because of how desperate you are to be filled by him.

“Want you…need you…” you say, your voice shaky as you throw your head back against the pillow.

“Oh baby,” Yunho tuts, his voice almost condescending as he stares up at your fucked out state, “your pussy is so tight, I need to prep you before, don’t want you to get hurt.” 

Yunho's words send another wave of desire coursing through your veins. The contrast between his stern tone and his evident care for your well-being leaves you feeling both dizzy and achingly needy.

“You don't want to get hurt, do you now?” Yunho questions, gently slapping your thigh to get your attention back on him.

“No, I don’t,” you exclaim, doing anything to please the man in front of you. 

“Good girl,” 

He's ruthless, entering another finger into your wet hole, his tongue alternating sucks and nips on your clit. With ease, he manages to find the spot inside you that sets fireworks through you and you feel the coil in your belly starting to tighten in pleasure. 

"So fucking good, doll." He groans, his face pressed against your core has your cunt throbbing. “Can you even take my dick? I don’t want to hurt you when you’re being so good for me.”

You feel yourself on the edge of an orgasm, desperate to topple over the edge. All you need is a little encouragement, and you're extremely glad Yunho is so good at reading you.

“Let loose, baby. Be a good girl and cum on my fingers.” 

You let out a loud moan, almost a scream as your orgasm hits you and Yunho holds your shaking body down, licking your clit softly as you finish.

Before you can finish riding through your high, Yunho continues to kiss your pussy gently while adding a finger, the sudden stretch in your hole has you whining and writhing around from the sensitivity, his rough movements from his long fingers has you shaking even more. You beg for him to slow down and, thankfully he leans back, a satisfied smirk on his face as he watches you twitch beneath him.

Before you can comment on anything, Yunho leans down and captures you in another heated kiss, and you moan when you can taste yourself on his lips, a new rush of arousal flooding through your body.

“Do you want to keep going? We can stop if you want to.” Yunho's voice, filled with concern, warms your heart, but you can't help the groan that escapes your lips. 

"I’d love to continue," you rush on your words, your enthusiasm unabated. Chuckling at your eagerness, Yunho moves back slightly, running a hand through his hair as he gazes down at you, a mix of pride and desire evident in his eyes as he looks at your fucked out state.

“Wait shit, I don't know if i have a condom,” Yunho says, worried as he ruffles through his bedside table, not able to find any.

“Wait really?” you question, not even the slightest bit worried about him not having a condom, in fact you almost try to hide your excitement, “it’s okay.” 

“What?” 

“We don't need it, I'm on the pill.” You exclaim, pulling him by his hand closer to you, so he sits on the bed next to you.

Yunho is taken aback by your boldness, yet he finds it extremely hard to hide his excitement. The low groan that escapes his lips doesn't go unnoticed by you, further fueling the growing intensity of the moment. Yunho looks up at you, his eyes dark as he studies your face for any form of discomfort. When he doesn't see any, he almost moans at the thought of finishing inside of you. “Fuck, baby. You're going to be the death of me.”

The second Yunho removes his boxers, your mouth is almost watering at the sight of his length. Not only is he long, but he is girthy, standing tall. Your mouth hangs slightly open as you take in the sight. You can feel your pussy throbbing at the thought of how well he is going to stretch you out.

“Like what you see?” Just like that, the caring Yunho is once again replaced with the cocky Yunho that you just love.

Instead of firing the bratty comment that is on the tip of your tongue, you simply nod your head, too overcome with the need for him to just destroy you.

Yunho leans over you again, spreading your legs wide to fit right between them, he takes his time rubbing up and down your slit, gathering your arousal to lube himself up. Your whines and whimpers are like music to his ears, and he doesn't know if he can ever get enough of you like this.

Lining up with your entrance, he takes his time to gently slide just the tip in, causing you to gasp lightly. Yunho buries his head into your neck, biting his lip as he attempts to maintain his composure. He knows he needs to take it slow in order to not hurt you, but the way you are clenching around him has his mind spinning with arousal.

He gets back up, his intense gaze watching your every expression as he eases himself in, going at a steady pace. The sting is definitely present and you squint at the light pain.

“Deep breaths, beautiful. You’re doing so well.” 

You grab his toned arms as he pushes himself further in, his own breaths getting shallow as he feels your warm walls envelop his length.

‘Stay focused, Yunho,’ he thinks to himself, over and over, desperately trying to keep his composure, yet it proves more difficult by every passing second that your tight pussy sucks him in.

Pleasure surges through you but the only thing you are able to focus on is how full you feel. Your breath catches in your throat and you tense up as he gradually bottoms out, groaning, "So big."

“Yeah, does it feel good?” Yunho’s voice is raspy as he cages you in his arms, his eyes scanning your face.

“So good… please move.” is all you manage to say.

Yunho starts with some slow, teasing thrusts dragging his cock out before pushing it back in and it has you mewling out in pleasure.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” Yunho chokes out, his sanity practically gone as he feels your tight walls hugging his cock so nicely.

The beautiful sight of him on top of you, sweaty and lust ridden has you moaning and clenching around his cock. Wrapping your arms tightly around his strong back, your nails dig into his skin as he increases his pace. 

"Does this feel good, pretty?"

You are only able to manage out a moan of approval, letting him know, yes, he is doing good. Yunho chuckles against your skin as you let out noises of pleasure, every one spurring him on and making him desperate to make you finish again. In a purposeful movement, Yunho leans his hips back slightly, so his cock is angled in a way where it hits your g spot perfectly with every thrust. Yunho knows he has found it the second your words and moan become a mixed blabbing mess, with this he smirks. He almost doesn't want to stop, he is having too much fun with you.

Yunho grunts as he starts thrusting even faster, his hand coming down to flick your clit, needing you to come on his cock. He needs you to finish before him.

You feel your orgasm approaching fast, and Yunho can tell by the way you clench and claw at his arms, pulling him down to lock him in a heated kiss, he swallows your moans and whimpers happily.

Yunho pulls away from your swollen lips to bury his face in your neck, whispering praise into your ear. 

“Who is making you feel this good, doll?” he whispers in his deep voice, “do you want to cumm, pretty girl? Be a good girl and cum on my big dick, I know you want to.”  

The coil in your belly tightens even more, your legs starting to shake around him as you moan out his name pathetically. 

“That’s it, beautiful, milk my cock dry.” 

“Need to cum,”

Yunho’s chest tightens at the desperate tone in your voice and for a moment, he knows he is definitely able to get used to your desperate whines.

“Go ahead, baby cum for me, let the whole neighbourhood know how good I’m making you feel.”

That's all it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap, and your orgasm hits you hard. Intense pleasure ripples through you like tsunami waves, shaking your whole body and making your toes curl as your fingernails dig into his arms. The sensation overwhelms you as your world narrows down to the electrifying connection you share with Yunho.

Yunho follows in suit, his hips stuttering as he cums deep inside of you, his choked swears and moans in your ear as he wraps his strong arms around you, securing you in a tight embrace as the two of you ride out your orgasms.

After a few moments of silence, the only sounds to be heard in the room are the deep inhales and exhales of you and Yunho, the two of you lost in the aftermath of your passionate encounter. The intimacy lingers in the air, wrapping around you like a warm, comfortable blanket.

Yunho gently sits up, his arms shaky as he tries to regain his composure. A layer of sweat covers his face, and even in the low light of his room, you think he looks absolutely handsome. His dishevelled hair and flushed cheeks only add to his charm, and you can't help but admire him as he catches his breath.

Slowly, he pulls out, his seed spilling out of your swollen hole, a sight which has Yunho getting hard once again, yet he pushes the thoughts to the side and quickly rushes to the bathroom to grab a washcloth for you.

You can't help but feel a wave of insecurity and vulnerability as Yunho steps away to fetch the washcloth. The moment he disappears from your sight, a rush of unease washes over you, and tears begin to pool in your eyes. You never expected this level of intimacy, and now, seeing him leave even briefly, you fear he might be having second thoughts.

When he returns with the washcloth, he immediately notices the glistening tears in your eyes. Panic sets in, and he rushes to your side, cradling you in his arms.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with genuine concern. "Did I do something to upset you?"

You sniffle and shake your head. "I'm sorry. I thought you disappeared for good, and I got scared."

Yunho's expression softens as he caresses your cheek, his thumb gently wiping away a tear. "Oh, baby, I would never do that. I promise you, I'm here for you. I'm so sorry for putting that thought in your mind."

He holds you close, offering the warmth and comfort you desperately need, reassuring you that he's not going anywhere.

“Yunho?” You look towards Yunho, whose gaze is already set on you with an affectionate gaze. Tenderly, he pushes a stray hair behind your ear, and a sense of comfort washes over you.

Leaning down, he places a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring, "Yes, baby?"

Your heart flutters at the endearment as you continue, "What are we?"

Yunho raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking into a warm smile. He knew this question was coming, and he's more than prepared to answer. "Well, if you'll have me, I'd love to be your nerdy boyfriend."

A surge of happiness fills you, and you can't hold back your grin. "Only if you'll have me as your 'not so nerdy' girlfriend?"

Yunho chuckles and cups your face with his hands, sealing the moment with a sweet kiss. "Deal," he whispers against your lips, his arms wrapping even harder around you, securing you in a warm embrace.

“Let’s clean you up, pretty.”

—

“Sitting in Professor Turner's office, you're feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Yunho is right beside you, his presence giving you comfort and assurance. Professor Turner, the mentor you deeply respect, and her opinion matters greatly to you. You've been working tirelessly to improve your grades, and this is the moment of reckoning. To tell whether you are going to be expelled or not.

Professor Turner reviews your recent exam results, and you can't help but glance at Yunho. He's been your constant support, helping you study, explaining complex concepts, and motivating you to push your limits. There's a fond smile on his face, his warm eyes reflecting his pride in your accomplishments.

Finally, Professor Turner finishes her review and looks up at you with an encouraging smile. "I don't know how you did it, but your grades have not only improved, they have excelled. You are somehow one of the best in my class right now."

Your heart swells with pride as you realise the significance of her words. Tears fill your eyes and you feel the heavy weight that has been on your heart for months finally lift.

Yunho's proud smile widens, and the love in his eyes grows even more apparent. You feel a deep sense of accomplishment and happiness, knowing that with his help and your dedication, you've managed to exceed your own expectations and impress one of your most respected professors.

You look over at Yunho, gratitude shining in your eyes, and say,

"Well, I had an amazing tutor."

{i didnt proof read this, so if you see mistakes i apologise, im very tired}

[ribbonskiss]

THE LEANOVER -> OP81

Part 1 of 2. Read Part 2 here.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: You come home on uni break to find your brother’s best friend, Oscar, is visiting. You both fall back into old habits, but some things are not the same.

Tags: brother’s best friend, friends to lovers, slow burn? kinda?, fluff, suggestive content (18+), very gentle reading tbh

A/N: Here it is finally, the highly requested full length version of the drabble I posted. Sadly I’ve reached my limit of dividers for this one and have to split it into two parts :( Very funny that it took off so much because it was honestly just a warm up for writing 😭 Anyway, I hope it was worth the wait, enjoy <3

“You’ve gotten soft, kiddo.”

He leans against the doorframe, that same mischievous smile on his face as he watches you do the dishes.

“Well,” you say, rinsing a cup over the running faucet, “Some of us have to.”

Oscar quirks up an eyebrow, arms folding over his chest. “Really? Fascinating. I had no idea.”

“And some things never change, I see,” you chuckle.

It’s December, and you’re home for the first time since moving away for university. It’s been an eventful year, one that’s brought about many successes, mistakes and surprises. Your mother marvels at how much you’ve grown; you’ve ditched the old frumpy haircut, started slouching less and finally found the perfect shade of lipstick. Your father is just glad you’ve managed to achieve a pretty impressive grade average.

When Oscar arrived, he caused so much commotion you had to stumble down the stairs to see what all the fuss is about. His presence was a surprise, but a welcome one. He was always your mum’s favourite—you remember the day he set off two years ago to pursue Formula One full-time. She cried as if he was her own kid. (Your brother stayed in Melbourne, so it’s dubious whether or not she would’ve cried harder if he moved away. For what it’s worth, when you went off to ANU yourself, she cried about the same amount.) Always a charmer, he came bearing big bags of gifts for everyone, and your family gathered around him like bees to honey.

He pulled your brother in for a hug. They’re too close to just settle for a dap-up after another year apart. “Looking good, mate,” your brother chuckled. “Look at this guy. Dapper, eh?”

“Says you, man, look at yourself,” Oscar laughed, throwing his head back in delight before patting him roughly on the back. “Fucking hell, you finally filled your beard in.”

From a distance, you smiled, watching as they started to roughhouse, laughing as they wrestled and wrung one another. Eventually your brother released him from his headlock, throwing him out of his grip, and Oscar ruffled his hair back into place before turning and spotting you, standing at the staircase.

He smiled at you fondly. You’d forgotten how nice it feels to be the recipient of it. He’d forgotten how he can recognise what every expression you make means.

You’ve grown a lot. Maybe not physically, but definitely mentally. He never had a problem with you before, far from it, but he likes this new you a lot—more graceful, tactful, a skilled conversationalist eager to help out whenever. Not to mention he didn’t even realise you could grow even more beautiful. Well, you’ve managed it somehow.

Now dinner is over and he’s still standing there, watching as you shut the dishwasher close. “Just can’t be fucked,” you sigh with relief. “Too many fuckin’ dishes.”

He comes closer, ruffles your hair with a hand while the other wraps around your waist, pulling you to him. The action is familiar, but the feeling that arises in you from it is not. “Well, you used to just not do them at all, so,” he reminds you. “This is a big improvement, Tiny.”

You flush. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember everything,” Oscar smiles at you. “Why would I forget anything?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug, “it’s normal to forget the little things.”

But his smile never falters. “They’re not little to me.”

“Well fuck, you’ve put me in a difficult position.”

The two boys you’ve known your whole life stand in front of you in the living room, where you’re sitting on the couch, legs sprawled over its full length, reading your book. Your brother sighs. “I just wish you’d told me beforehand, like, I know you wanted it to be a surprise but,” he continues. “If you told me you were coming, I wouldn’t have booked the trip—”

Oscar shakes his head. “Nah, don’t sweat it, come on,” he says. “It’s fine. Either way I’m back home, I can catch up with some guys from school, and your folks are lovely to me.”

Your brother starts up again, but Oscar puts his hands up. “Mate, really, it’s fine. I’ll be right on my own.”

“Say swear?”

“On my life,” he nods. “You just enjoy Bali with your missus.”

Your brother looks at him for a moment, shakes his head and smiles. He nudges him on the shoulder. “Don’t let her do anything stupid.”

“What, that little thing?” Oscar smiles, turning to look over where you sit on the couch. “She’ll be right. I got her.”

They talk for a little longer before one of them bids the other goodnight, retreating into his room. Oscar stays, looks at you for a moment as you pretend to not notice, eyes scanning over the pages of your book like your life depends on not looking back at him. He runs his fingers through his hair, lets out a breath before he comes closer.

“Looks like it’ll just be you and me this holiday season, Tiny.” No one calls you that except Oscar. He stands in front of you, towering over your sitting figure. You can’t find the bravery to look up at him, but you just know he’s smiling again.

You flip to the next page. “Where’s your family?”

“Off to the Alps,” he shrugs. “But I’ve just been last year with a few guys.”

“How convenient,” you comment, earning a chuckle from him. Oscar nods his head, smiling still, unashamed.

“Very convenient.”

“Good morning, sleepy.”

You stand in the kitchen, rubbing your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper where the counter is. He brushes past you to the coffee machine, and you feel his warmth close by for a split second. “Don’t do that,” he tuts at you, chuckling at your sleepy state. “It’s bad for your eyes.”

“Is he awake yet?” you ask, and your voice is still hushed, soft from slumber.

“No,” he says. “But I’m making coffee anyway. He’s a bit of a cunt in the morning.”

You suddenly remember that he’s sleeping on the spare mattress, very inelegantly smack dab in the middle of the floor in your brother’s room. You can’t help but snicker. “You know him too well. You’re like an old married couple,” you tease him. “Aren’t you too old to be doing sleepovers still?”

“Aren’t you too old to be reading your porny little novels on a Friday evening?” he retorts. You feel yourself flush almost immediately, the blood rushing to your cheeks as embarrassment overwhelms you, knowing you’ve been caught. Oscar glances over at you from where he stands, pouring out cold milk while the espresso shots continue to drip into his mug, and he chuckles.

“I’m right, no?” he continues. “You’re all grown up now, Tiny. My question is, why stay in? Why read about fucking a soccer player when you could just, you know, actually do it?”

You glare at him, but the sight of him this early in the morning with his soft sleepy smile and tousled bedhead hair makes you falter a little. “That’s not even a book I own.”

“I know that,” Oscar nods, holding the little pitcher to the steam wand, gently frothing the cold milk inside. “But I have seen one on your desk. Think it was about another sport, actually.”

Then the frothing stops, and he pours the milk foam into the mug slowly, carefully. He snickers. “It was about racing, wasn’t it?”

Your cheeks grow hot, hotter than you thought was possible, and your eyes drop immediately to the ground at his words. It amuses him to no end. He hands you the mug; it’s a latte, with a cute little heart on top of it. Now he’s just being cruel.

You take a sip of the searing hot coffee immediately just to avoid having to speak about this topic any further. “This tastes like shit.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and grins. “You’re welcome, love.”

“Can you even speak to me this way?”

“What way?” Oscar says, cocking up an eyebrow again. “You’re a big girl now. What, you can read about sex but you can’t talk about it—”

“Keep your voice down,” you whisper-yell, shushing him in a panicked tone, but he can barely take you seriously, chest rumbling with soft laughter.

“Alright,” he nods. “If it’ll please you, Tiny, I’ll do it.”

Then he leaves the kitchen, retreats into your brother’s room and starts yelling at him to wake up. You’re left on your own to figure out why he put so much emphasis on the word please.

“You’re leaving?”

Alright, now it’s getting fucking ridiculous. You’re sat in the back of your dad’s car after sending your brother and his girlfriend off to the airport, absolutely flabbergasted by what your parents have just said.

“You’re leaving me alone for two weeks,” you continue. “Since when? How long has this been in the works? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“God, no, it’s not like that,” your mum sighs, turning to you from where she sits in the passenger’s seat. “They invited us to their beach house in the Central Coast a month ago. We said no because we knew you were coming but, with Oscar here now… Why not?”

“We just thought it would be nice to have some time to ourselves,” your father continues, eyes still on the road. “With our friends. And you’re on break for ages! We’ll only be gone for two weeks.”

“You’re an adult now,” your mother smiles hesitantly. “And with Oscar… Well, I honestly trust him more than your own brother to take good care of you.”

Oscar is touched, but you’re less than satisfied by all this still. “I’m sorry, honey,” your mum starts again, but you shake your head.

“No, no, I get it, it’s fine,” you say, waving off her concerns. “I just wish I had a heads up, but I get it.”

Looking out the window now, you feel Oscar place a comforting hand on your shoulder, his touch soft and warm, wordlessly assuring you things will be okay. He means well, but it worsens your worries. Your stomach feels strange. Now you can’t escape how you feel.

You look out the window, waiting for the bread slices in the toaster to pop out. In the back garden, Oscar is dutifully watering the plants blooming around the wooden benches and table where your parents like to host barbecues. (It’s one of the many tasks listed in the list of chores your mum left the two of you.) He takes careful steps, acutely aware of the blossoming flowers near his feet, and slips his gloves off where the shelf with all the necessary gear is.

He calls out to you, nudging the watering can with his foot to where it should be. “Smells good in there.”

“Almost done now,” you call out back to him, turning back to the kitchen counter where two dishes are lined with omelettes and chorizo sausages. When the slices pop out, you smear smashed avocado all over one side of them. When he finally comes through the back door, you’re finishing the already-salted avocado toast off by grinding up some pepper. Oscar stands behind you, watching as you do it.

“Looks amazing, too,” he chuckles. “Or maybe I’m just real hungry.”

“I think you’re just real hungry,” you say. “What took you so long?”

He shrugs, taking both plates from the counter to the dinner table. “Your dad’s tool shelf is weird as fuck.”

You don’t question it; he’s probably right, your dad is weird as fuck in general, so you just take knives and forks to the table. “Dig in,” you tell him, placing a fork down where he’s sat. He turns his head to look up at you, smiling.

“Thank you,” he says, softly, and Oscar’s looking at you with genuine delight. You turn away. Your chest is tightening. You go to sit where he’s put the other dish, and he watches as you take a small bite of your toast.

“So,” he starts up again. “They’re all gone. It’s just the two of us. Should we throw a rager?”

You chuckle at his words, and he beams, eager to make you laugh. “Yeah,” he nods, smiling gently again. “Wasn’t feeling like it either.”

“We don’t really have to do anything today,” you say, chewing on your food. “We’ve still got a whole two weeks ahead of us.”

“That’s true,” Oscar hums. “Well…”

You look up from your plate, giving him a curious look. “Well?”

“Well,” he continues, “I just haven’t had a chance to say—well, I’ve just wanted to say… It’s nice to see you again. You’ve grown a lot. You look good. Really good.”

You must be bright brick red in the face now. “Thank you,” you mumble back, and when you both finish your food he helps you load the dishes into the dishwasher before vacuuming the living room, ticking off another thing on the list.

“Tiny, I’m sure you look amazing,” he says from the other side of the door. “Can you please come out now?”

You look at yourself in the mirror, huffing. “No.”

Oscar frowns to himself. “Well, can I at least come in?”

“No!” you exclaim, the thought of him seeing all the clothes tossed onto your bed embarrassing you too much to even consider opening the door.

“You’re not naked in there, are you—”

“Oh my god, Osc, no.”

“We’ll miss the whole thing at this point, we’re late as is,” he tries to reason with you. “Please, Tiny, I could help you.”

“Yeah, because you’re so fashionable. I can’t just throw a linen shirt and beige shorts on like you do.”

You hear him snicker from outside. “Mee-ow. Touché.”

Sighing, you come closer to your door. “Just,” you say. “Don’t be cruel, okay?”

Oscar leans his head against the door. “Of course,” he mutters quickly. “I mean, obviously. Yeah.”

With another big huff, you unlock the door, and his eyes widen at the sight of you in a dress, soft blush pink silk hugging to your curves all the way down to your ankles. The thin straps leave little to the imagination, your collarbones and shoulders exposed to the sunlight filtering through your curtains. Oscar wonders how soft your skin must be, supple arms smoothing over your waist.

“I don’t know if I feel good in this,” you say, and his eyes dart back to your face, wincing in worry. “I don’t know if I necessarily have the body—”

“You look fantastic.”

You turn around to face him. He’s standing behind you, a little flushed as his eyes rake over your figure again. “You look great, I mean,” Oscar says. “Just… bring a cardigan.”

You chuckle. “It’s the middle of summer—”

“It could get cold at night.”

There’s a bite in his voice that makes you shiver, especially as you turn back around to face your mirror and he comes closer, towering over you.

“Who knows how long we’ll be out for.”

The Christmas market stays open until late. It doesn’t get dark by the evening hours in the summer, so you never slip on the cardigan. Instead, Oscar insists on having his arm around your shoulders the entire time, leading to more than one stall owner mistaking you for a couple. The commotion makes you blush every time.

“What are you so embarrassed about?” he chuckles. The two of you meander through the paths of the market, barely taking note of any of the stalls at this point. “People used to mistake us for a couple all the time in school.”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Nuh uh,” you retort. “They thought we were siblings.”

Oscar gags. “What? Christ, no.”

“Exactly,” you chuckle. “Or they thought we were cousins.”

He looks at you, cocks his head to the side curiously. “Well, what’d you tell them?”

You shrug honestly. “I don’t know. I told them you’re my Oscar,” you say, and your answer makes him laugh softly.

“And what exactly does that mean?” He prods.

“Well, there’s no other way to put it.”

He furrows his eyebrows. “We’re not friends?”

Well, I hope not, you think. “You’re my brother’s friend,” you say. “And I think even he detests you sometimes.”

Now you’re approaching where the crowds are down the street. As you slip through the mass of people, the heat starts to rise even more in temperature, making his skin stick to yours in the humidity as he holds you close still.

“But we’re close,” you nod. “Not friends, not family. Just… My Oscar.”

He chuckles. “Your Oscar?”

“Ha-ha,” you roll your eyes, though the heat starts to get to your cheeks now. “Yes. My Oscar.”

Well, he likes the sound of that. It’s very intimate, he thinks. And he definitely likes that. “You know,” you continue as you finally escape the crowd, walking down the street and away from the market now. “They never stopped asking me.”

“Asking what?”

“About whether or not you were single,” you giggle.

Oscar sighs dramatically, halting to a stop as he shakes his head in great disappointment, making you laugh even harder. As the years went by, Oscar’s racing aspirations became more and more apparent to the student population, propelling him to celebrity status at school. It’s funny; the more lenient his schooling arrangements became, the less he showed up at school, and rumours started spreading, making him a sort of mythical figure that would drive girls wild whenever he did show up to class.

“You know I always fucking hated that,” he grumbles to you, eyes narrowing. “Fuckin’ hate how they treated you—I mean, you’re not my guard dog, you’re a human being.”

“It’s not that serious,” you snicker. “Schoolgirls are schoolgirls. You were a heartthrob, you know?”

Oscar lets out a hesitant chuckle. “Not by choice. I didn’t have time for girls,” he says, turning the corner towards the train station. “Well. Maybe just the one.”

“Oh?” you laugh. “How did I not know about this? Who was it?”

He smiles, turns to look at your curious face, and ruffles your hair like he always does. “The tiniest girl I’ve ever known.”

But you’re not that girl anymore. Later that night he knocks on your own door just before bedtime; you tell him to come in, and when he does, you’re standing in front of your mirror, clipping your hair back. In the sweltering heat of Australian December, your choice of pajamas is a camisole that wraps loosely around your bare chest, the shape of which is too apparent for him to not flush, and heather grey shorts that are dangerously short. It is now that Oscar realises that the tiny little girl he used to play wrestle with as a child really is, as he had told you before, all grown up now. When you turn around, smiling so sweetly and innocently and wishing him a good night’s sleep, he dryly swallows and silently nods, closing the door when you wave goodbye. If he didn’t leave right that minute he would’ve put his hands all over you, feeling that soft skin he’s been wondering about all day.

It’s not that that girl you were or the boy in him has vanished. But now you have both come to a situation where a certain passion shows its naked face, and that girl and that boy can now see the true spirit of the relationship they share, and it was there all along. Oscar sleeps scarcely that night, stirring in your brother’s bed in a cold sweat as his mind replays the images of your figure standing in front of your mirror, blissfully unaware of how gorgeous you have always been in his eyes. The ultimate standard of the perfect girl in his mind. What a pleasant affliction this is, a small price to pay for his heart to blossom.

He ignores the tent in his boxers and shuts his eyes. Your brother’s going to kill him.

Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Questions? Leave them all in my askbox, and sorry for any mistakes/typos!

[longlivejemily]

After Office Hours

Part 2 here

Pairing: Professor! Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Reader goes to her favorite professor hoping to find ways to improve her grade. He has some unconventional extra credit opportunities in mind...

WC: 1.3k

Warning: Student/teacher relationship, slight sub/dom dynamics, semi public sex, thigh riding, use of y/n, use of “baby’ and “little girl” plz let me know if i’m missing any!

You’re running down the hallway of the law building at your university silently begging that your professor is still there. As you approach the door, he’s exiting, keys in hand. “Wait, Professor Reid! I’m here! Don’t go!” You call out to him closing the last yards of space between you. “Miss y/l/n you’re late, office hours are over.” “No Dr. Reid you don’t understand! My statistics professor wouldn’t let us leave until we finished the lesson on probability distributions! I told him I had office hours to get to and he didn’t care. Please Dr. Reid I really need to talk to you about my grade!” He puts his hands in his pockets and sighs while gears are turning in his head. “Fine, for you I’ll make an exception.” “Thank you thank you.” You try not to read too much into his comment as he opens the door, “after you.” You don’t notice that he locks the door after following you in. 

As he sits across from you at the desk, you pull out your physical midterm paper all marked up in red ink. “I thought I grasped this concept so well! I don’t understand how I got a C-.” “Y/N, you got a stressor and trigger backward. You failed to accurately explain the concept. The points you did get were from the passion in your writing. I appreciated the way you wrote, but I couldn’t give you a higher grade. I’m sorry.” 

“Professor, I have a 3.5 GPA and I can’t have that drop, especially not from my favorite class!” He clasps his hands under his chin with his elbows below him. “Miss y/l/n, it seems you have been struggling in this class for a while now. I see how hard you work but you have narrowly maintained a B-. If this is your favorite class, why didn’t you come to office hours sooner?” “I-” Your mind is moving too fast to form an answer. You look down at the ground and can’t help but press your thighs together. You’ve only had a few moments in such close proximity to Professor Reid before, and definitely not alone. His eyes seem to darken, “Do I make you nervous?” You just press your legs further together “Umm..” “Come here.” He says in a soft yet demanding tone while scooting his chair back. When you walk over to him he gestures towards his lap. “Sit.” You comply. You put your right hand on his shoulder as his left-hand reaches around you and grips your side. He can probably hear your heart beating out of your chest.

“You know how I knew you wanted this? When I guest lectured in your physics class you were wearing sweatpants. Out of anything you could have worn, sweatpants. You tried to hide it, but I saw your eyes widen when you saw me. You never dared to be caught dead in front of me clad from one of your tiny little skirts you love wearing to my class.” He takes the hand not at your side and squeezes above your knee. “Do you wear those skirts just for me? Tell me the truth.” You turn to him but avoid eye contact. In the quietest voice you say “Yes, just for you professor.” Knowing you were coming straight to his office hours after stats, you wore one of your shortest skirts and knee-high black boots. You hoped being alone in office hours on a dark fall night he wouldn’t be able to resist you. It was worth a shot, anyway. He smirks and before he has a chance to reply you say, “Now back to my grade, is there anything I can do to improve the grade I got on my midterm? Can I resubmit it with your notes taken into account?” “I’m sorry miss y/l/n but there's nothing I can do. The university policy states that once midterm grades are locked, any work done before can not be revised. My apologies.” 

“Is there anything I can do? Any extra credit opportunities this term?  I can help you grade papers or clean your classroom! Please I’ll do anything! I need to improve my grade, please!” He just stares at you while you beg. “Anything?” He says with a devilish smirk. “Yes sir.” You say back to him, smiling and batting your eyelashes. He takes a deep breath with his eyes closed and once he opens them he locks eyes with you and says, “Ride my thigh.” “Excuse me, Doctor?” His dick jumps at the honorific. “You said you’d do anything to improve your grade. I know you heard me, ride my thigh.” You cannot believe Dr. Reid just asked you for this. Since the first day of class, he has been the sole object of your fantasies. You’ve fallen asleep many nights imagining him bending you over his desk and fucking you until you scream.

 Without a second thought, you stand up to resituate yourself on his lap, straddling his left thigh. The moment you stand up he reaches for your wrist, “What are you doing?” You smile on the inside, those four simple words have shown you he wants this as badly as you do. “Don’t worry professor, I’m just turning around, I need something to grab onto.” You say as you sink down onto him. You put both hands on either side of his shoulders and begin to rock back and forth finding your rhythm. The roughness of his khakis against your ass and your thong pushed against your clit has you stifling your moans quickly. He grabs your chin to make you look at him, “I want to hear you, baby.” You let the moans leave your lips, still mindful of volume. He puts one hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip, gently guiding you. When he touches you, you are on cloud nine. Here you are, in your professor's office after hours riding his thigh as he speaks sweet praises to you. You swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. “That’s it baby keep going.” You are eyeing the member in his pants start to grow. Every time he speaks you get closer and closer to the edge. He can tell by the way you’re speeding up. “Come for me little girl, I want to hear how good you’re feeling.” The use of little girl sends you over the edge. 

Tightly gripping his shoulders as you ride out the rest of your orgasm, leaving dents in his shoulders through his dress shirt. Once you’re done cumming, you collapse onto his chest breathing heavily. Staring down at his lap you see his dick straining against his pants, and he’s huge. He gently rubs your back as you come down from your high. He kisses your head and lifts you by your shoulders facing him. You’re staring deep into his eyes. “You did so good for me, but it's getting late, you should get home.” “Right right, sorry. I’ll head out now.” As you stand up and adjust your skirt you notice the wet spot you left on his pants.

 He sees you staring and interrupts your thoughts, “Don’t worry about it. Can I plan to see you next week at office hours?” “Yes!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “Um I mean yeah, I’ll be here.” You say in a chiller tone. “Good, I have more extra credit opportunities in mind, I hope to see you in class on Monday. Next week, come to office hours once they're done, okay? Don’t show up before 7.” “Yes Dr. Reid, I look forward to improving my grade however you see fit.” You say with a wink heading towards the door. When you go to turn the knob it's locked. You unlock it and glance back at him. He’s still staring at you with a hungry look in his eyes. You have the biggest smile on your face walking back towards your dorm, next week's office hours can’t come soon enough.

a/n: this is the first fic I’ve written in about 10 years! Should I turn this into a mini series? I have more ideas for how this story could go! Any feedback is greatly appreciated <3

[weasleysbliss]

𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | 𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

pairing: george weasley x gryffindor!reader

summary: when y/n is asked to tutor george weasley, she expects nothing but chaos. but as their study sessions turn into moments of laughter and vulnerability, what starts as an obligation blossoms into an unexpected romance.

word count: 2.7k

➽────────────────❥

You were the top student in your Potions class—well, pretty much in all of your classes. With an average just shy of 100, you managed to outdo your friend and academic rival, Hermione Granger. Sometimes, you couldn't help but wonder how you weren't placed in Ravenclaw.

You were patiently waiting in Professor McGonagall's office, as she'd asked you to be there at 10 a.m. sharp. It was already 10:05, but you didn't mind. After all, she had hundreds—if not thousands—of students to deal with every day. You couldn't imagine being in her position; it must be incredibly stressful.

You saw Professor McGonagall quickly walk into the office. "Sorry, dear, I wasn’t expecting to be late. I had to deal with one of the twins again. Fred and those fireworks he won’t stop setting off... I can’t seem to catch a break," she said, clearly irritated. You chuckled.

Fred, along with his twin George, were infamous for their pranks—especially their fireworks. You weren’t particularly close with the twins, though you knew George from Potions class. You’d never really talked, but you’d heard plenty about their mischief. This definitely wasn’t the first time they’d caused trouble.

"No worries, Professor, I’m in no rush,” you reassured her. “Speaking of Fred, I actually called you in here to ask if you'd be willing to tutor his brother, George. His struggle is with Potions, and I know you’d be a great help, Miss L/N."

Her request caught you off guard for a moment. You had no problem tutoring anyone—especially since you were confident in all of your academic abilities. But George? Would you even withstand a single session without him pulling at least ten stunts on you? Despite not exactly wanting your "client" to be George, you couldn’t let Professor McGonagall down.

"Yes, of course, I'd be delighted to tutor him." Not that you were exactly thrilled. You didn’t have a problem with George, but you could already imagine the chaos his pranks would bring. If he pulled anything on you... well, you’d just have to pray you could withstand it.

Nonetheless, you had high hopes.

"Lovely! You both can start tomorrow at 6 p.m. in the library," she said. "I will let him know about the schedule. You'll be expected to tutor him three times a week. I have no doubt his grades will improve with your help." She gave you a warm smile, clearly pleased that you accepted her request.

You returned her smile and made your way out of her office. Now, all that was left was to wait for your first session tomorrow evening.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day, 6 p.m. rolled around much faster than you anticipated. You spent most of the day going over your notes and brainstorming effective ways to tutor him.

You found a seat in the library, one that George would be able to see when he walked in. Shortly after you settled in, his tall, lean figure appeared in the doorway. Your eyes met for a moment, exchanging weak but genuine smiles, before he walked over and took a seat beside you.

"Glad you came, Weasley," you said, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, though it wasn't meant badly. "Not like I had much of a choice, y’know. McGonagall practically twisted my arm…" he laughed. "But I have to admit, I was pretty lucky to get you as my tutor. You’re brilliant, Miss L/N—though I probably shouldn’t inflate your ego too much." You chuckled at how formal he sounded when using your last name.

"Yes, well… I'll try my best to make this session quick and effective. I'm sure you have plenty of other things to do outside of this," you said, scrambling through your notes. "Don’t worry about it, I’ve got all the time in the world," he assured, smiling. His comment made your cheeks heat up, but you quickly brushed it off as you laid out the notes.

"Right, let's begin!" you cheerfully said.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Nearly 45 minutes into your session, everything was going smoothly. You’d covered most of the first topic you wanted to go over, and George seemed to be doing well with it so far. However, there was just a little bit left of the lesson to finish.

"Okay, and finally…" you began, but you were cut off when you noticed the cup of ink you had dipped your pen in was gone. "Oh… did I misplace it somewhere?" you said, your voice tinged with confusion.

"Have you seen the cup of ink, George?" you asked, still looking around in a frenzy. "No," he replied simply, his nasty and mischievous smirk making it clear he knew something you didn’t. "George, stop messing around. Give it to me," you said, trying to remain calm. You only had a couple more things to explain, and you were ready to be done. You weren’t having it with his pranks, though you knew they were coming.

The cup of ink came into clear view when George stood up, holding it high above his head. "Reach for it, if you dare," he laughed, knowing full well you wouldn’t be able to reach it. "George, cut it out!" you said, clearly annoyed. You didn’t even try to get it; it would be impossible unless he brought it down some inches shorter.

Seeing the irritation on your face, George finally lowered the cup, holding it out in front of you. Just as you reached for it, he quickly pulled his hand away, making your face burn with embarrassment. "George, stop! We’ve been here for an hour already, don’t you want to leave?" you said quietly, trying to keep your frustration in check.

"I dunno, there’s just something hilarious about you when you’re mad," he said, a grin slowly creeping onto his face. He finally placed the cup on the desk, your eyes following his hand. Now, you can get back to finishing the lesson.

Once the session came to an end, you both discussed when you'd meet again—two days from now. "Same time, same place. Don’t be late," you said, your tone firm. "Right atcha," he replied with a playful salute before spinning on his heel and heading out of the library.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The next day wasn't one of your tutoring days, but you decided to sit next to George in Potions class. After all, you were tutoring him in the subject, and you figured it’d be a good chance to get to know him better outside of academics.

"Well, well, well," he sang as he saw you take a seat next to him. "Oh, shut up," you said, swatting his arm playfully.

For the entire period, you both got to know each other on a more personal level. Not too personal, but enough to now be considered 'acquaintances'.

George Weasley wasn’t as bad as you’d expected.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Next day, second tutoring session.

You and George met up at the same spot, same time. Library, at 6 p.m.

"Okay, now that you’ve learned what I taught you a few days ago, it’s time to apply it to an actual potion. This is when you’ll actually make one." you said, pointing to the empty glass tubes.

You handed him a piece of paper with a specific potion written on it—the one you’d ordered him to make. He took the paper and got to work. You watched his every move, from the way he added the ingredients to the tube, to the way his hands moved.

Something about his hands intrigued you. They were veiny, slim, and just perfect overall. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by a loud explosion-like sound.

Your gaze immediately shifted to the glass tube, where black smoke was billowing out and clouding the air. He must’ve added the wrong ingredient.

"Guess I didn’t quite hit the mark with the studying, did I.." he muttered quietly. Yeah, clearly. The notes you’d given him to study had gone to waste—he’d messed up one of the easiest potions to make.

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, but despite the mistake, a laugh escaped you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another two days later, another tutoring session awaited you.

This time, you really hoped George’s effort would get you somewhere, rather than wasting both of your time.

"Believe it or not, I actually did some studying this time. Turns out your notes are pretty brilliant—who would’ve thought?" he said as you both stepped into the library. "Wow, Weasley. I’m impressed, but let’s see if it paid off," you replied, smirking at his comment.

You handed him another potion to make, this one more difficult than the last. To your surprise, he actually perfected it. It warmed your heart knowing he’d put in such great effort.

"Told you," he said, showing off his creation like a nine-year-old flaunting a Lego set he’d built.

It was nice seeing him improve, finally succeeding in something he’d struggled with, all with your help.

"Nice one, Georgie!" you cheered, patting him on the shoulder. "Trust me, if you keep this up, you'll be in the high 80s."

"Yeah, I definitely need that. A 52 isn’t exactly something to brag about, is it?" He said, a bit embarrassed, but with a playful tone. He had clearly exposed his grade, a bit more than he intended.

Your hand was still on his shoulder, but neither of you seemed to mind. You didn’t think of letting go. "Don’t let yourself down. We all start somewhere. And you’re getting better—thanks to me," you said, flicking your hair away as you emphasized your contribution. He laughed at your sassy move, clearly amused by your confidence.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Another session went by, then another, and many more after that.

You were seeing George every day—whether it was sitting with him in Potions class, during your occasional tutoring sessions, or even grabbing coffee and lunch together now and then. Though those outings weren’t exactly romantic, they still felt special in their own way.

He'd made immense progress, and it was clear when he told you he was averaging an 85 in the class.

Just like that, in two months, he’d gone from a 52 to an 85. Needless to say, you were proud—of both yourself and George. You felt accomplished, knowing you’d successfully helped a student improve their grade, and proud of George for sticking with the sessions and putting in the effort.

Despite his rare pranks and annoying moments, he made the sessions much more fun than they should’ve been.

Rather than being professional and straightforward, the sessions almost always turned into the opposite—filled with laughter, inside jokes, casual flirting, and lessons that took far longer to finish because of it.

You didn’t realize it at first, but those two months spent together had made you develop feelings for him. Not a full-blown crush, but something close. You’d gotten to see the things that made him attractive, and more importantly, a good person.

His lean, masculine figure, his hands, and his noble, humble, and brave personality made you realize he wasn’t all chaos and jokes.

He was exactly your type—almost everything you'd wished for in a guy. His good looks weren’t something he flaunted; instead, he prioritized maintaining a reputation for being generous and courageous.

You admired that about him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

On one particular tutoring session, which was close to being one of your last—since he was already excelling in the class—you both shared a moment you'd never forget.

After your usual laughs at one of his ridiculous jokes, he suddenly shifted the atmosphere, his tone turning serious.

"Y/N, you do realize this is one of our last sessions, yeah?" He asked.

"I know. I’m going to miss moments like these. But hey, it’s not like we won’t still have class together! And I see you every day, stop being dramatic," you replied, playfully shoving him, earning a chuckle in return.

"I know, but I feel like these sessions are what really built our friendship. Honestly, if McGonagall hadn’t set this up, I’m not sure where we’d be." He said.

What he said was completely true, and you’d even considered it yourself. Where would you guys have ended up, in terms of your relationship, if Professor McGonagall hadn’t played matchmaker? It was like a butterfly effect.

"Yeah, I don’t think either of us would’ve spoken to each other," you laughed. In your defense, you wouldn’t have talked to George back then. You’d thought very differently of him.

"You're right. I'm scared of pretty women," he said.

That one simple comment made a thousand, if not a billion, butterflies erupt in your stomach. He always knew exactly what to say to earn a blush from you.

You were too flustered to respond, so instead, you shot him a small, shy smile, afraid you’d say something you would regret.

"I’m glad she paired us together, though," he said, breaking the silence. "Well, I happen to like you—a lot, actually. And somehow, it all snuck up on me so fast." he confessed.

His words sent your heart racing, pounding faster than it ever should. This was one of the rare moments where both of you were completely vulnerable and serious with each other.

"I’m really glad you enjoyed my company, Georgie. Honestly, these sessions meant more to me than just schoolwork." You hesitated for a moment, a small smile on your face. "You make me feel so… at ease. Like I can just be myself. And, well, I didn’t expect to get so attached, but here I am."

The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and his eyes widened slightly at your statement. For a moment, panic gripped you.

Oh gosh. What if he didn’t mean it like that? What if he only sees me as a friend? Did I just romantically confess to him? Am I dreaming? Get a grip, Y/N!

"You like me, L/N, don’t you?" he said, not even posing it as a question.

Your cheeks flushed instantly at the sound of your last name on his lips.

You couldn’t outright deny it—that would be a lie. But admitting it felt too direct, too vulnerable.

Standing against one of the library tables, you avoided his gaze, your lips sealed as you struggled to find the right words. Deep down, you knew the truth—you liked him.

He stood from his seat and stepped closer, closing the space between you. His finger lightly grazed your chin, gently tilting your face to meet his eyes.

"There’s only one answer," he murmured. "Let’s not lie now."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you fumbled for a response, finally managing a soft, unsure, "Maybe."

By now, your bodies were so close that his warmth seeped into you, making your breath hitch.

"I thought so," he said, his voice low and almost teasing, his gaze locking with yours.

Your eyes remained locked on his, staring into the rich, chocolatey depths of his gaze.

"Y’know, you’re not exactly subtle about how you feel, Y/N. But lucky for you, I’m happy to help," he said, his voice soft but confident.

Confusion flickered across your face for only a moment before it was replaced by the warmth of his lips pressing against yours. One hand found the small of your back, the other resting gently at your waist. The world seemed to stop as you froze in the moment, every part of you except your lips paralyzed by the intensity.

Your lips moved in sync with his, creating a rhythm that sent heat coursing through your body. Slowly, your hands unfroze, snaking their way around his neck and pulling him closer.

As if the ten seconds of kissing weren’t enough, George seemed in no rush to stop. His hands moved to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly and setting you on the table behind you.

Now, with nothing to steady but each other, you let yourself melt into him.

His hands slid from your thighs to your hips, his fingertips brushing the fabric of your skirt. Your own hands stayed around his neck, tugging him even closer until there was no space left between you.

The kiss was electric—otherworldly. It wasn’t just passion; it was connection. It felt like bliss, the kind of moment you never wanted to end.

This wasn’t your first kiss, but it was the first one that made you feel completely and utterly alive.

Unbeknownst to either of you, every tutoring session had been its own lesson—a lesson in love.

[luveline]

Hii! I'm in love with your Hotch adult daughter fics. Could we get one where she is getting bullied in college or where she works and then Hotch finds out somehow and helps her? Please please :)

thanks so much for requesting! fem, 1.2k

He decides to surprise you. He’s at risk of embarrassing himself greatly, and he’s okay with that risk. 

Hotch stands outside of the George Washington University and winces in the hot weather. The sun beats down on the back of his neck. He’s more aware of how little sun protection he uses as the time stretches on, waiting for you, but he doesn’t mind it. He’s worn full suits in the Nevada desert. 

You emerge from the main building where your last class for the day takes place. He dropped you off here last week, got to watch you walk in and say hi to the custodian. It was a nice insight of who you are, someone he’s proud to be the father of though he had little hand in what you’ve become. 

Behind you are two female classmates. 

Hotch pauses under the tree he’d taken refuge by. 

He can’t hear what they’re saying, but he can see the rigidity of your shoulders, your hackles rising as they talk. The brunette gets a nasty look on her face, to which you respond, and the blonde’s volume begins to rise. 

The brunette looks like she might reach for you. “Don’t touch me,” you warn. 

Hotch steps in. 

“Hey, excuse me,” he says, loudly and firmly, the Unit Chief tone in play. He’s gotten very good at raising his voice without shouting. “What’s going on here?”

The two women who were talking to you falter, but the brunette stays fiery. “We’re just talking.” 

“About what?” 

“It’s none of your business.” 

“If you’re going to lay your hands on her, it becomes my business,” he says. 

There’s a guilt to the blonde’s expression that proves you’d been thinking correctly and that she was going to touch you, even if it were only to grab your wrist, but she bristles and denies. “We weren’t.” 

“Then you have no reason to stay.” 

You frown deeply. “No, they can finish. Clearly they think it’s important–”

“But do you think it’s important?” Hotch asks you. 

Your frown, your anger beginning to ebb. You take a breath. “I suppose not.” 

Hotch levels the women with a look. Just a look, not interrogative or heated, but prompting —it’s the kind of look he gives people when he wants them to realise they’ve missed their cue to leave. 

“See you next week, then,” the brunette says, a threat he abhors. 

“I’m sure she will,” he says, hoping anything unsaid is felt. He has no idea who they are or what you’ve apparently done to make them angry, but you won’t be intimidated. 

“Do I need to talk with Dean Langley?” he asks, turning to you as the women walk out of hearing range. 

“Aaron.” You look at him, look like him, not in appearance but the pinch to your brow as you rub the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that.” 

“What?” 

“They do it to me every time I’m here.” 

“They do?” 

You sound like it’s a chore. “They think I’m sleeping with our professor.” 

“Why would they think that?” 

“Because ever since I stopped working, my grades are much better, n’ they think I cheated my way there.” 

Oh, of course. Hotch tries to do something good by you —he’s started giving you a little chunk of money every week so you don’t have to work anymore, nothing obsequious but enough to cover everything you need, rent and food and transportation, clothes, textbooks, and he made it clear you can ask for more— and it makes things worse for you instead. Still, “Your grades are improving?” 

“I’m doing pretty well,” you confess shyly. 

He holds your shoulder. “I’m sorry they’re jealous, and I’m sorry they’re inventing a narrative to cope. I really can speak with Dean Langley if you need me to.” 

You smile and let yourself lean into his touch. “Inventing a narrative to cope,” you repeat. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that one.” 

You have more fight in you, it seems. “If it gets too much, just let me know. You don’t have to entertain their delusion.” 

“I’ll use that one, too.” 

He laughs, hand sliding behind your back to hug you from the side, his nose briefly pressing to your temple before he gives you space again. “I was hoping I’d catch you on your way out, are you busy? Let me take you to dinner, celebrate your performance.” 

“You realise I wouldn’t have improved without your help?” you ask. 

“I think any parent in my position should provide for their kid,” he says easily. “It’s not help. Not everyone can support their children through college, but I can, and I wish I had been from the start.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you say. 

He nudges you into a walk toward his car. “I owe you more than you realise.” 

He takes you to an early dinner, and celebrates your improving grades with the dessert of your choosing. Conversation with you can sometimes feel strange. It’s hard to think you were a kid once and he’d never met you, but then he realises how young twenty two really is, how you’re still willing, longing for him to be a father to you. You’re smug that he’d go to the dean to for you. You like that he stepped in. And you love being doted on, being encouraged. He can see that easily. 

“When can I come back to see Jack?” you ask eventually. 

He wishes he could say whenever you like, but he has a hard time following Haley’s movements. “I’ll ask. Soon, I promise.”

“He took great care of me.” 

The last time you’d stayed over, Jack acted like you were the best thing since sliced bread (which you are, in Hotch’s eyes). 

“You know, he had a little trouble with bullies last year.” 

“They aren’t bullies,” you say, taking a bashful bite of your ice cream. 

“No, of course not. But he’ll understand, if you want to tell him about it.”

“Aaron, he’s five.” 

“He’s six,” he corrects. 

“Oh, sorry. But still, I don’t think Jack wants to deal with that. I couldn’t unload on him, he’s my… you know, he’s my little brother.” 

“Then tell me about it, at least.” 

“You saw the most of it.” 

He sighs. Wishes you’d call him dad, understands why you don’t, and can’t think of what to do. It was easier when Jack had trouble, because little kids bully each other almost on accident. They don’t know what they’re doing is wrong, having learned the behaviour from their parents. It’s almost never personal. 

Your situation is not the same. 

“I’ll talk to the dean,” he suggests again. 

“Don’t bother. It’s alright. And if it gets worse, I’ll tell you.” 

He smiles, reaching over plates to squeeze your hand briefly. “Thank you.” 

You look down at your food. Some shyness to you still at being cared about. “Thank you,” you mumble. 

[moonstruckme]

Hi lovely! Can you do poly!wolfstar x reader who is normally a brilliant student but since the start of the year she’s just been… not? And I mean failing most of her classes, procrastinating more than usual, etc. Like the material just doesn’t click in her head anymore and she feels… I don’t wanna say embarrassed, but yeah maybe a bit embarrassed

Thank you for requesting angel! I hope you know that what Sirius and Remus say in this fic is true, and though grades are never a real indicator of your intelligence you can always improve them <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

“Oh,” Remus says from the kitchen, over the sound of chopping. “Dovey, did you get your mark back on that essay yet?”

A newly familiar brand of self-loathing spreads through your gut. “Mhm,” you hum, half hoping he won’t hear. 

“How was it?” 

You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, staring unseeingly at the assignment you’re meant to be doing on your laptop. You know Remus doesn’t mean to pester you. He’s only curious because you’d spent a rushed evening writing the essay at the last minute and he likely remembers your panic; he has no reason to think you’ve done anything but well, as he’s used to with you. Still, you wish he had a worse memory and perhaps cared less. 

“Fine,” you say. 

It’s not a lie, though the half-truth tastes bitter on your tongue. It was, by definition, fine. You’d received a passing mark, though just barely. You shouldn’t have been surprised; the essay had been a last-minute scramble and had probably read like one, your ideas half formed and structured only coherently enough that you thought you might coast by with a B. Realistically, you’d known this professor was too strict to let you do that. 

“That’s good,” Remus hums, appeased. You’re lucky he’s not nearby enough to read the guilt on your face. 

The sharp tang of blood spreads through your mouth as you navigate to a new tab. You haven’t thought much about what effect a C would have on your mark in the class. You’ve avoided thinking about it much at all. Still, the essay was a weighty assignment, so maybe there’s a chance that C could have buoyed you above failing…

You don’t hear Sirius coming up behind the couch. He’s been bouncing between you and Remus all evening, no task of his own but happy to distract you both from yours. You register his arms coming around your front right as he registers the marks on your screen.

You slam your laptop shut. 

Sirius says your name, soft with surprise. 

“You snuck up on me.”

“I wasn’t trying to,” he says. It’s not an apology, but almost. “How long have—why haven’t you said anything?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You feel tears pressing at your throat and you shove them down. “It’s embarrassing.” 

Sirius makes a soft sound, chin landing gently in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His thumb strokes over your abdomen. “Oh, my girl…” 

“Everything alright?” Remus’ chopping has stopped. Although he can’t see you, he can still detect a somber tone. 

Sirius is quiet. He’s not going to give you away, you know. But to avoid having secrets between the three of you, you have to come clean to Remus yourself. 

“Yeah,” you say with forced lightness. Your stomach is in knots. “Everything’s fine, I’m just not doing very well in school.” 

“Oh.” Remus appears from inside the kitchen. He comes toward you with brows drawn together, not in disappointment but in concern. “Anything I can help with?” 

Your throat closes up at how he offers it so easily. You give him a watery smile. “I don’t think so.” 

Sirius’ arms stiffen at the squeak of your voice. “Hey,” he says, rubbing your shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just school.” 

You try to stay quiet as a tiny sob bullies its way out of you. It used to be just school for you. Simple, routine, nothing you had to work terribly hard at. It mattered, but not much, because you never had to worry about it. 

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you admit as Remus comes to sit beside you, sympathy digging into the space between his brows. “I just can’t—it’s like I can’t do anything this year. I’m failing.” 

“Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright.” Sirius lets you go so Remus can draw you into a hug. You curl against him, humiliated and yet desperate for comfort. “You’re not failing.” 

“I literally am.” 

“Maybe,” he says calmly, “but Sirius is right. It’s only school. You’re only failing some classes, not failing in general. Don’t start telling yourself you’re not brilliant.” 

You’re quiet, sniffling. Remus’ silence is knowing. He rubs up and down between your shoulder blades in slow, short strokes. He has a way of always saying what you’re really upset about.

“You’re still brilliant,” he says. You hide your face in his jumper, steeping in your shame. 

“You can come back from failing a few classes,” Sirius tells you. “I know you’re not used to it, but you’re only having an off term, sweetness. It’ll be okay. You’ll figure it out.” 

“I don’t—” You sniff hard, pulling away from Remus to wipe under your eyes. “I don’t think I have time to figure it out.” 

“You may not be able to pass this term,” Remus agrees. Your face tightens at the confirmation, but he goes on gently, “That doesn’t mean you’ve failed. You can sort it out for the next one. We’ll help you. It’ll only be one bad term, you can move on from it.” 

“People do it all the time.” Sirius leans over the back of the couch, kissing your shoulder. “It doesn’t mean anything about you. Just that you had a rough go.” 

You tilt your head so it touches his lightly, the smallest token of affection. Sirius rewards you by cupping your chin in his hand, tilting your head back so he can smile down at you. He thumbs a couple of tears off your cheeks. 

“You’re both being very reasonable,” you say quietly. “If you loved me you’d tar and feather me.” 

“You know, we so would,” Sirius bends to kiss your nose, “because we do love you, but unfortunately the tar still hasn’t been replenished from last month’s public humiliation.” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweetheart,” Remus chides, rubbing your arm. “It’s only been one term.” 

“Mm, also true,” says Sirius. “Usually we don’t tar and feather anyone until at least three.” 

At last his teasing gets a smile out of you, albeit a small, begrudging one. Sirius grins widely in response. 

He stamps his lips on your forehead, voice dropping into a more sincere register. “You’ve nothing to be embarrassed of, lovely girl. We’ll get past it, yeah?”

You find that you believe him. 

[deadbydad-writes]

Professor! Miguel O'Hara Smut Headcanons

Sorry I've been gone for so long, school and family stuff happened and yeah, but I'm back! And, I have a gift! There isn't enough of Professor Miguel O'Hara tbh

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had went up to you after class, asking you why you were failing your Spanish tests and why you weren't doing well on your work.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had offered to privately tutor you himself, offering to give you lessons after school and even on the weekends if possible

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had invited you to study there on the weekends, saying that it was better for him to help you there instead of some old boring classroom

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who you started to have catch feelings for, noticing how bigger he was compared to you but he was always gentle with you

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had eyed your body after sometime, admiring how you acted around him and how much you had improved with your Spanish.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who started to give you small kisses on your cheek, forehead, neck and shoulders whenever you passed a quiz or finished your work on time.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had you laid out on his own bed, his lips pressed against yours and his fingers buried deep inside your dripping cunt after you went to his house to show him your grade in his class.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who had one hand gripping your waist, his palm warm against your skin as he had your legs around his own waist.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who whispered sweet praises and promises in your ear as he gripped the headboard of his bed as he fucked his large cock into your tight pussy, making you moan and squirm underneath him in pleasure.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who kissed and nibbled on your neck, saying that he would put his baby in you, mark you as his own, telling you how beautiful you would look with your belly all round and full and your tits swollen with milk.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who fucked you until you came on his cock, screaming his name as you arched your back off the bed and your nails digging into the skin of his back and shoulders.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who filled you up with his cum until you felt it drip out of you and down your thighs, whining in discomfort as he pulled out.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who cleaned the mess up with his tongue, coaxing you into another orgasm as he lapped at your soaked folds, a grin on his face as he pulled himself away from in-between your thighs.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who bathed and cleaned you, dressed you in a set of new clean panties and one of his shirts, admiring how big it was on you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who wrapped his arms around you, spooning you from behind as he placed his hands on your stomach, whispering in your ear how good of a mommy you were gonna be and how well he would treat you.

Professor! Miguel O'Hara who held you close and watched you fall asleep in his arms, kissing your forehead as he too drifted off to sleep.

How did I do on this? Please let me know in the comments, and hey should I do a part two of this?

If you have any suggestions, for if there is gonna be a next part to this, then please do tell me in my inbox! I would love to hear some ideas from you guys!

Anyway, I hope you guys liked this! I love you guys, and I'm so excited to be writing again!

Also, here is a link to this list!

[saintzweig]

older next door neighbor!reader x stanford!art

– teehee :3 proofread? do you even know me (of course it's not)

– edit: i actually dont know how to feel abt this so please let me know what u think!!

art donaldson has been harboring a big fat crush on the girl next door for years now. you're two years older than him, already well into college by the time he got accepted into stanford. 4.0 GPA, a great volleyball player and you volunteer at animal shelters, his grandmother loves you– heck, every mother in town loves you. you used to come over atleast once a week, having dinner with him and his grandma. when you started tutoring to earn money, he had you over three times a week to help him even though his grades are doing fine. he reckons he can do better but really he just wants to have you to himself, the two of you locked in his room for hours. of course that changed when you left for college, choosing a university miles away and leaving him alone for the rest of his highschool years.

you come home every break which means that art does too, hoping to catch you and maybe show off a little. after all, he's a man now– he's on the stanford tennis team, he's won multiple tournaments and he's no longer the little nerd you've known since you were kids.

you come over one afternoon, bringing over some fresh brownies that you've made for art and his grandma. he opens the door shirtless, telling you he was just about to jump in the pool but really, he saw you walking over through the window and took his shirt off. he asks you if you want to maybe join, the weather's nice and all and much to his surprise, you agree, saying you have nothing going on anyways. you excuse yourself for a while, wanting to change into something more suitable and he prays it's the red bikini he's seen you wear before.

and it is. you come in and he offers you a cold beer. "beer huh? i didn't know you drink now, donaldson." you say with a slight grin, taking the bottle from him. he watches the way your hands wrapped around the bottle, images of your black manicured nails wrapped around his co–

he makes a comment about having done stuff in stanford, stopping himself from telling you that he's been drinking since he was a teenager, at the academy. with patrick. he doesn't miss the way your eyes lingered on his lips as took a swig of the beer, making him smirk subtly. he leads you to the backyard and you help yourself to a floatie while he sits on the edge of the pool. you paddle yourself softly to the water, leaning back and savoring the sunlight on your skin. he doesn't even try to hide the way he's staring at your chest, not that you can see anyways because your eyes are closed. "my grandma's having a poker game at one of her friend's so it's just us" he tells you.

you begin to ask him questions about his first year in college– how was tennis, how were the parties, any girls?

tennis was great, he says his coaches are really helping him improve and prepare to go pro. parties were crazy, it was loud and sweaty but he doesn't let himself get carried away, being an athlete and all. he's gotten on a few dates and he tells you he's been asked out alot, exaggerating a little bit to show off. you say you weren't surprised and he asks what you mean.

"i mean look at you, you're not bad looking. you're tall, blonde, athletic– girls dig that. you've gotten bigger too"

he smirks, "bigger?" and you only roll your eyes, leaning your head to look up the sky. he jumps in, walking over to you, crossing his arms over the floatie, making you shift slightly. his elbow touching your thigh. "what about you? any guys?" you hum, sipping on your beer. "there was one, but I don't know. didn't really work out" he asks why and you tell him you just don't see yourself dating someone on campus, they're all assholes who don't take anything seriously.

"have you ever dated anyone younger?" to which you raise a brow, only for him to tilt his head with a stupid grin on his face. you shake your head, "i heard younger guys can treat you very well." he says, and you knew exactly what he meant.

that's how you ended up sitting on the edge of the floatie, legs apart with art standing in between. you're leaning back on your arms while his hands are on your thighs, pulling you closer as he place kisses on your skin. your bikini is beginning to get wet, not just from the pool water. he looks up at you, water dripping down from his hair down to his face. "you don't know how long i've been waiting for this."

you almost whined at his expression, eyes wide as he looked up and lips plump, aching to taste you. you lift your hair to push back his curls and he leans into your touch, closing his eyes. "wanna show me how well you can treat me?" he thinks he just died and came back to life. in a second, your bottoms are untied and floating somewhere in the pool. fully exposed to him now, your cunt soft glistening in the sunlight. he lets out a soft cuss as he takes in the sight. "you sure about this?" you only nod, smiling down at him.

he kisses your sensitive clit, keeping his eyes on you as you throw your head back. he watches as your adams apple bob when you let out a moan. he begins to circle his tongue around your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. butterflies floating in your stomach as he made his way down, sticking his tongue inside your hole, tasting every bit of you. he moans as he feels your slick cover his tongue, "you taste so sweet, angel." you tug on his hair and he takes it as a request to go deeper and he does. he fucks you with his tongue, lifting his hand to press the rough pad of his thumb on your clit. his eyes are closed, savoring every moment. he pulls away slowly, teasing his finger into your dripping hole before slipping it in, and you tense up. immediately enclosing him with your warm gummy walls, art starts to feel pain inside his swimming trunks. he moves his hips slightly, hoping the water will create a friction to relieve the ache.

he attaches himself to your clit once more, sucking on it this time while he curls his fingers inside you at the same time. your stomach tightens as you feel your climax approaching, making you tug on his hair harder. "f–fuck, how are you so good at this" you gasp, bucking your hips. he chuckles, you feel the vibration against your core. "art– shit, i'm so close, baby" he groans at the pet name, his other hand gripping your thigh harder.

"you like that, huh?" your voice breathless, "you like it when i call you baby?" he nods feverishly, lapping up your juices, his own hips bucking softly underwater. you wrap your legs around his back, "i'm gonna cum, artie– fuck, baby just like that. doing so good f'me" within seconds, you're shaking violently into his mouth. feeling warm fluid ooze out of you, which he immediately takes into his mouth. you struggle to hold yourself up, leaning back on your arms as you catch your breath.

if only you could see the string of white floating out of his trunks under the water.

[filmsmakkari]

your highness

fred weasley x slytherin!reader

Summary: When Slytherin beats Gryffindor in the final quidditch match of the season, Fred Weasley decides to give the Slytherin princess a little reward

CW: NSFW, semi public sex(?), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praising.

Author's Note- As usual, I had a black reader in mind, so (Y/N) is described as having braids, but that's the only physical description. Anyone can imagine themselves in this fic. Also emmm I have never written smut in my life saurrr... I hope this makes you horny and I'm sorry if it doesn't!

To say that (Y/N) (L/N) hated Fred Weasley would be an understatement.

The Princess of Slytherin was in the prefect’s restroom, trying to wash the red and gold dye out of her hair. The last quidditch game of the autumn term was the next day, and Fred fucking Weasley thought it would be funny to make a mockery of the Slytherin team captain by having Peeves throw ink at her as she tried to run down the moving staircases. 

“That bloody…” she muttered as she roughly scrubbed her scalp. She’d been at it for what felt like hours when the dye finally washed away, and the raven-winged color of her long braids was finally visible again. 

Enraged, (Y/N) stomped out of the bathroom, envisioning ways to get her revenge. In her anger and fantasies of all the means of torture she could inflict upon the irritating prankster, she was barely aware of her feet carrying her down to the ever-calming bioluminescence of the  Slytherin common room. She waved her wand violently, blowing around a stack of papers and knocking over a desk, catching the attention of Blaise Zabini. 

The boy seemed slightly frightened as he said, “Hey (Y/N/N), you alright?”

(Y/N) huffed with irritation. “Oh, I’m more than alright. I’m ready to knock Weasley off his bloody broom.”

-

The Great Hall was alive with conversation. Some students excitedly cast charms, creating fireworks with their house colors and animals, while others feasted on fruits and vegetables in preparation for the big match. Slytherin vs. Gryffindor games were always the most anticipated. The extreme disdain between the two teams brought out the absolute best in them as players. Even if it was occasionally violent, it made for a great game. 

Fred and George Weasley sauntered into the hall with the typical swagger of Gryffindors, scanning the tables and admiring the displays from the students. As Fred eyed the Slytherin table, his gaze fell upon her. There in her quidditch sweater, brown knee-high boots, and a horribly tempting skirt, the Slytherin Princess, who’d earned her title by getting the best grades in her house, being captain of the quidditch team, and being so ridiculously beautiful that even the proudest Gryffindors tried their luck with her, was sitting on the table, locked in conversation with Blaise Zabini and Emma Vanity- the Slytherin chasers.

“Discussing a new and improved strategy for the pitch?” Fred asked, approaching her. “I might as well tell you now, you’re wasting your time.”

(Y/N) turned to him with an eye roll.  “Keep taunting me, Weasel. It’s the most satisfaction you’ll get today.”

“Keep dreaming. Tell me, how’d you like my little gift yesterday?” Fred asked, resting his hands on the table and leaning close to her face.

(Y/N) hummed. “To be honest I’d expected more from you, beater. You couldn’t even do the job yourself. That scared of little old me?” 

“You wish. You’ll see out there today. Tell you what. If you win, which you won’t, I’ll reward you,” Fred smirked.

“Please, what could you possibly have that I want?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know? Too bad you’ll never find out.” Fred winked and walked over to the Gryffindor table, filling (Y/N) with so much irritation that it made her face hot.

-

Fred Weasley was eating his words.

The match was over before it began, the Slytherin players flying like bullets, (Y/N) ’s strategy working to absolute perfection, giving (Y/N) the perfect opportunity to catch the snitch without hesitation, winning the last game of the season.

The after-party was a blur of green and silver, fireworks, and cheering. One second (Y/N) was being hoisted up in the air by her teammates while they chanted her name; the next, she was playing games with giggle juice and fire whisky with her classmates. The snake lair was on fire with passion and excitement. While (Y/N) was reveling in it all, she had another celebration in mind. While her friends chanted so loud that the paintings were all forced to cover their ears, (Y/N) quickly slipped out of the common room and skipped happily up the stairs with a clear destination in mind.

As the sleeping form of the fat lady came into view, (Y/N) suddenly realized she had no actual plan. She couldn’t get into the Gryffindor common room, and even if she could, what would she do? Find Weasley in his dorm room and slap him? Cast a spell turning all the furniture silver and green to boast Slytherin pride? Steal Fred’s clothes while he was in the shower and- oh. Somewhat embarrassed at how eager she’d been to go to the Gryffindor common room and at how her thoughts kept wandering back to Fred, (Y/N) quickly turned around and began to go back to her dorm but was quickly stopped in her tracks.

Standing before her was the very person who’d been nagging at her thoughts all night. There was Fred Weasley, with dripping wet red hair and no shirt, looking down on her with irritation and amusement.

“Well well,” he said tauntingly, stepping closer and closer to her until her back was pressed against the wall. “Just what is the snake princess doing so close to the lion’s den? Came here to gloat?” Heat was radiating off of him. He was angry about the match.

(Y/N) swallowed, suddenly nervous, her usual Slytherin pride and confidence nowhere to be found. “As a matter of fact, Weaselbee, I’m here to see you. I told you I’d win, I’m here to claim my reward.”

Fred raised an eyebrow at this. He walked over to the fat lady, knocking on the portrait softly. The fat lady awoke with a jump, giving Fred a frustrated glare.  “Sorry about this,” said Fred. “Iced Mice.” The fat lady hesitated. “And just what are you doing bringing her in here?”

(Y/N)’ s bite finally returned as she spoke, “I can show you better than I can tell you. How about a charm for taking the tongues of bad singers?” Fred chuckled at that.

“Why, I never!” said the fat lady as she finally swung open the door.

Fred took hold of (Y/N) ’s hand as he walked in, dragging her behind him.

(Y/N)’ s words were full of venom as she whisper-shouted, “Just what do you think you’re doing, you slimy-”

“Just be quiet for once, princess.”

Indignation swelled in (Y/N) ’s chest, but she obeyed. Though she toothlessly fought back, attempting every now and then to snatch her arm away from him, deep down, she wanted to see where this would go.

Fred dragged her to a dark corner, taking her by her hips and lifting her onto a desk. 

“What the hell are you doing?” (Y/N) asked with a furious look, but there was no bite behind the glare. Her heart was pounding so loudly she was afraid he’d hear it. 

“You came for your reward, didn’t you? You were so desperate for it that you were willing to cheat during the match,” he said, moving her hair and leaning into her ear.

(Y/N) shuddered at the closeness before pushing him away. “I didn’t cheat, Weasley, the hell are you talking about?”

Fred hummed, smoking at her and placing his arms on either side of her, caging her in.

(Y/N) scoffed. “This is ridiculous, I can’t believe I wasted my time coming here. Have a nice life carrot top.”

(Y/N) pushed him again, hopping off the desk and starting to walk away from him, but Fred quickly grabbed her by the waist, pulling her back into him and placing a wet, passionate kiss on her lips. (Y/N)’ s eyes widened in shock as Fred Weasley, the person she hated most since first year, slipped his tongue into her mouth and lifted her back onto the desk. Shocked and confused, she pushed him away a third time.

Fred looked deeply into her eyes, a tendril of red hair hanging over his eyes, making him impossibly more attractive. “Oh c’mon, love, don’t act like you don’t want it too. Like you haven’t wanted it since fourth year when you walked in on me showering after the quidditch cup.”

(Y/N)’s face got hot at the memory. “I hate you. You hate me. I’m the “princess of Slytherin,” remember?”

“Well then, your highness, allow me to serve you,” said Fred, dropping to his knees.

“What are you doing?” (Y/N) asked, her voice shaking as Fred ran his hands up and down her thighs, barely past her skirt. The tight little green dress and those white knee-high socks she was wearing had been driving him crazy since he first saw them, and he wanted nothing more than to see what was hidden underneath them.

“I’m rewarding you, even if you did cheat like a naughty little serpent, somehow I feel like this will be just as much as a reward for me.” He spread her legs wide, getting in between them and slowly peeling back her skirt.

(Y/N) breathed in sharply. “You have tormented me for six years, and now you expect me to let you use me to get off?’ 

“‘M sorry,” said Fred, kissing her thigh softly. (Y/N) shuddered. Fred kissed his way up to her sopping wet heat, muttering “I’m sorries” between every kiss. He finally made his way to her lacy undergarment, placing a soft kiss there. “You’re so wet, darling,” he said, popping his head out and looking at her, “It seems like you’ve already forgiven me.”

“In your bloody dreams, Weasley,” (Y/N) said with an unconvincing scoff. “I’ll hate you until the day I die.”

Fred hummed before quickly dipping his head back between her thighs, sliding her panties to the side, and licking a long stripe through her slick.

(Y/N) let out a throaty moan at the sensation, gripping the desk tightly. 

Fred chuckled against her, the vibrations making her breathe in deeply. “What was that about you hating me, love?” he asked.

“Shut up and get on with my reward, asshole.”

Fred smirked. “As you wish, your grace.”

Fred grabbed her thighs tightly and went to work, taking her clit into his mouth and sucking it like a starving man. (Y/N) moaned loudly before placing her hand over her mouth. Fred looked up at her, his sudden pause making her whimper. “No, no, no, darling. Don’t hide the noises.” He slowly pushed a single long finger inside her. “Let the whole school know.” Another finger. He looked into her eyes with a wicked smile. “Let them all hear how the snake princess let a lion make her scream.” He added two fingers that time and rapidly pumped in and out. And, just as he said she would, (Y/N) screamed. She went to cover her mouth again, but with his free hand, he took both of her wrists and held them in front of her. It burned, but it felt so good. (Y/N) began to move her hips slightly to increase the sensation, making Fred smile. “That’s it, beautiful, good girl. Good girl.” Fred spoke in a way that was almost patronizing. If she weren’t so close to the edge, she probably would have made some snarky remark, but (Y/N) couldn’t think straight as the pressure in her stomach was building up, and the Weasley boy was making her see stars. She let out another loud moan, throwing her head back as the pressure became unbearable. 

“Fuck, fuck, FUCK,” (Y/N) screamed as Fred’s fingers slammed into her g-spot, and she finally couldn’t take it anymore. (Y/N) let out a scream as she came, barely aware of anything around her. Her vision went blurry as the hot juices spilled out of her. Fred wasted no time re-attaching his mouth to her drenched cunt, licking up her juices until she was clean. “Mmm, sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Surprising for such a nasty girl,” Fred said, slapping her thigh, sliding her panties back over, and standing up.

He placed his arms on either side of her, staring at her intensely, his hair disheveled and her cum around his mouth. (Y/N) matched his gaze with equal intensity, her heart pounding, a million questions running through her head. After a few beats of silence, she finally spoke. 

“I still hate you.”

Fred actually laughed at that, shaking his head before looking back at her. “Beat me again, princess, and I’ll give you a better reward then my fingers and my  mouth,” he rasped into her ear before walking off to his dorm room, leaving her with her legs spread on a table of the Gryffindor common room.

“We’ll see how much you hate me then!”

[petpenname]

Heartache

pairing: Ellie Williams [brother's best friend] x fem reader c.w. : smoking summary: you have had your eyes on your brother's best friend and band member forever, but you'd never think she would actually talk to you? a/n: this was a submission + I'll make more parts if it gets a good response!

The air in your room hangs heavy with humidity. A slight breeze from your open window blows through, fluttering your various posters and decor hanging on your walls. And over you, sprawled across your bed, flipping through social media, you were honestly bored out of your mind. Three weeks into summer and your closest friend was away for vacation, leaving you alone… and bored.

Cycling through your socials again you get fed up with the lack of entertainment and toss your phone on the floor with an exacerbated sigh. You lay on your bed, wondering what you should do to fill the void of dopamine when the sound of music begins to fill the house. A mixture of rock, indie, and midwest emo songs rang out from your garage, conveniently positioned directly under your room. 

Your brother's band got around to practicing, you assumed. You didn’t even realize your brother was home, he had gone out earlier this morning after your parents left for work. The music got louder and you suddenly had an idea of what you wanted to do, and it wasn't staying here and listening to your brother's shitty garage band. You gather your sketchbook, some pens, headphones, and a few other things into a bag, throw on a hoodie and a pair of shoes and head downstairs. You were headed to a river spot in the woods near your house. It was a commonly frequented spot by you, and your friends but not known to many. Perfect for a little seclusion and wading in cool water. 

You walk down stairs and almost instantly are hit with the strong earthy smell of smoke. You linger for a second and decide that your trip would be improved with a joint, hoping your brother would front you something, you enter the loud garage. 

Your brother and his band mates, all two of them, were unaware of your entrance. They were playing as loud as possible (maybe not as well as possible) but they were producing sound! Your brother slamming away on the drums while the guitarist, and bassist/singer were in their own worlds. 

“Hey!” you yell over the trio.

“HEY KAI!” You shout once more at your brother. Who, without skipping a beat or stopping, yells back.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” 

This got the attention of the other two band members who did stop upon seeing you standing there, amps silencing to white noise feedback. 

“Can I get a joint?” you ask.

“You got money for a joint?” Kai laughs.

“Can you just front me one?” you reply back flatly

“Why should I?” 

“If you give me one I wont tell mom you were smoking in the house again.” You counter. 

“It’s the garage so technically not the house and whatever you know they wont do anything”

“She can have one of mine?” a voice sparks up behind Kai, drawing your attention to the guitarist. A girl named Ellie. She and Kai had been longtime friends and bandmates. You barely knew anything about her other than she was in Kai’s grade, one above yours, but you knew her. You knew her eye color, her favorite flannel she wore a little too often. You knew she got a new guitar last year, and a fresh tattoo this year that shined under the garage light as she held up a joint in your direction.  

You also knew that this was one of the only times she had ever spoken to you. Not like you were around each other often but you almost felt like she would try to avoid you when she was over. Shocked, but with adrenaline pumping you took your chance, walking over to Ellie. She still had her guitar hanging around her, flannel sleeves rolled up, her hair was a bit disheveled from playing, strands falling out of her half up hair do.

She hands you the joint with a sideways smile, and her eyes glint a bit.

“Thanks, you’re so much nicer than my brother” you scoff, giving her a smile back. You turn to leave, flipping off Kai as you bound out the door, leaving the band members commotion in the garage. Not seeing Kai chuck a drumstick at Ellie who dodges it with a laugh. 

The success of getting a joint over shined the butterflies fluttering in your stomach from that look she gave you. The sun hit your face as you got outside and you were only looking forward to your solo date in the forest.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun was setting slowly, but from where you were in the woods shade had taken over your spot. You had smoked, worked on your art, and walked along the water looking for rocks. Hanging out in the forest for a few hours always rejuvenated you in a way you couldn’t explain. But you started to get cold and decided now was a good time to head home. While packing up you realized you had pretty bad cotton mouth from the joint, so you planned to stop by the corner store. 

It wasn’t a long walk but by the time you got to the corner store it was dusk. Street lights started sparking up like stars in the night sky. You opened the glass door and walked in, perusing the aisles for any snack or drink that could satiate your munchies. You were contemplating between an iced tea or a soda when the doorbell rang as someone walked in the store. You barely noticed the bell, or the girl walking up behind you until she spoke.

“Did you enjoy your smoke?” 

You jump, previously lost in your thoughts, you turn around to see Ellie standing there. She was wearing a hoodie now, her guitar in its case strapped to her back.

“Oh my god you scared me!” you say, almost dropping the bottles in your hands.

“Sorry! Didn't mean to!” Ellie laughs, moving around you to open the fridge door next to you and grab a coke. “Funny running into you here” she says, a little awkward you note.

“I mean my house is only a few blocks away,” you laugh. 

“Mm ya i guess so, you getting both of those?” Ellie looks down at the bottles in your hand.

“Oh um, I'm getting this one.” you hold up the iced tea & go to put back the soda. Before you could think Ellie takes the iced tea from your hand and starts walking towards the front of the store.

“Hey wait!” you look at her confused.

“Oh do you want something else princess?” Ellie turns back to look at you with a smirk.

Sparks ignite in your stomach, confused but now flustered, your mind swirling. You finally get a word out, “no, just that” and Ellie turns back to walk towards the cash register. 

You follow her, not really knowing what to do or how to act. Ellie and you had barely spoken to each other before this. And now she's acting so casually around you, and what did she call you? Everything happened so fast you barely caught it but reflecting back now, did she call you princess?

Ellie pays for the two drinks and you walk out together, taking your ice tea from her once outside. 

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that” you say, unscrewing the top and taking a refreshing sip.

“Don't mention it” Ellie says, “So are you going back home now?”

“Mhm yeah, what about you?”

“Yeah I was, but it's getting dark now, i’ll walk you back home first” Ellie says with a smile. 

“Who said chivalry was dead” you joke, it was a nice gesture, as much as you were confused by Ellie’s sudden intentions you couldn’t help but feel a type of way when she looked at you. Her green eyes danced over your face like she was memorizing your features. You wondered if she always looked at you this way?

She had. Ellie for the past few years had been keeping such a distance from you because when you were around she felt her whole body tense up. She felt like she was on fire if you looked in her direction. And god help her if she tried to speak around you, she ended up tripping over her words and losing her train of thought. Truthfully, she didn't know what magical queer fairy blessed her with the confidence to talk to you today. But she had taken in a chance earlier in the garage, and when she saw you in the store she knew it wasn't a coincidence. 

The walk back to your house was short, only a few blocks. You and Ellie joke together and talk about summer plans in the meantime. Both of you slightly high still, making your balance shifty, occasionally you would brush shoulders, sending sparks down each other's spines. 

When you get to your house you stop at the walk way, a little awkwardly since you knew Ellie had been in your house before. 

“Thanks for walking me home! And buying me this, um and the joint '' you say, taking in all of Ellie’s courtesy today, a little unsure what to do with yourself.

“Any time!” Ellie says with a smile, she fidgets where she stands for a second before reaching her hand up to your face. She tucks a small strand of hair behind your ear, without breaking eye contact.

“Have a good night y/n” and with that she turns around and walks away, putting up her hood. 

She left you solidified on the sidewalk, body unmoving but nerves on fire with a simple touch. You float for the next hour or so, barely registering going into your house and up to your room. Trying to make sense of what had just happened, and why now? And why so suddenly?

Later that night you receive a notification on Instagram

* @www.ellie followed you *

[mysteryshoptls]

SSR Divus Crewel - Rich Fur Coat Vignette

"A full course of disciplinary action"

[Sage‘s Island – Foothill Town]

Sage’s Island Resident: Good morning, Divus-san. You're up pretty early again.

Crewel: Good morning, madam.

Crewel: Also… Good morning, Emma!

Crewel: Your cute spots look so good on you, as always. I am truly lucky to be able to meet with such a stunning beauty so early in the day.

Crewel: …Can I give you some pets, you sweet thing?

Emma: Bark, bark!

Sage’s Island Resident: Fufufu, you're always so doting on our Emma, thank you. Look, she's so happy she's showing her belly.

Crewel: No, I should be thanking you. These fleeting moments I get in the morning are my personal solace.

Crewel: I'm grateful that I am able to see and pet these beautiful little lads and lasses.

Crewel: Especially since I'm unable to see my precious ones until I return to the Queendom of Roses on the weekends.

Sage’s Island Resident: If I recall, you have two friends looking after your dogs back home during the week, right?

Crewel: That's right. They're old friends… Or rather, they've become more like hired hands.

Crewel: I would love nothing more than to bring my dogs to Sage's Island…

Crewel: But my apartment here in Foothill Town is much too small to keep them.

Crewel: Sometime in the future, it would be nice to rent a large home here in this town and live with them together every single day.

Crewel: I'd drive with them in my favorite car on the long road along the ocean… That's the dream.

Sage’s Island Resident: Well, how lovely. I'm looking forward to the day that I'll be able to meet your precious dogs, Divus-san.

Crewel: And I as well, madam. I hope you have another pleasant day today. Bye, Emma.

Crewel: Good morning, my good sir. A strong cup of tea, as per my usual.

Shopkeep: Good morning, Crewel-kun. Would you like some food with that?

Crewel: No, thank you. I don't eat breakfast, as a rule.

Shopkeep: Yes, yes, I know. I thought I'd just ask.

Shopkeep: I can't believe you come to my little establishment so early in the morning just to drink tea instead of our signature coffee blend…

Shopkeep: You're still an odd one, even after becoming a professor at Night Raven College.

Crewel: Hah. Truth be told, I don't come here for the tea.

Crewel: Every Monday morning, if I sit in this seat here, I can watch the ships sail into port. The sight of the sails in a row is beautiful…

Crewel: This tea doesn't even compare to the stuff I can brew, but this view is something I can't replicate back home.

Shopkeep: Hahah! I always knew you were a sharp-tongued devil in your student years, but it seems you've just gotten even more cruel!

Crewel: I think it's more of a shock that you haven't improved your tea brewing skills in 15 years, sir.

Shopkeep: Well, luckily, we're still thriving! Do enjoy your time here.

Crewel: Thanks. …Hm. This respite is quiet and soothing.

Crewel: I should relax while I can. …Because I'm sure today will end up being yet another busy day.

Crewel: Today, I have homeroom plus three other classes. There's also preparations that need to be done for next month's event, a staff meeting, and last week's tests that need grading… Whew.

Crewel: Well. I'll just have to hope those pups won't cause me any issues, at a minimum.

[Laboratory]

Crewel: STAY!!!

Students: EEK!

Crewel: I can't believe this… What have you done?

Crewel: Why are all the ingredients needed for today's experiment scattered all over the floor?

Crewel: Which one of you mangy mutts not only stepped on but also mixed together all those spilled ingredients?

Crewel: I am only asking a simple question, and yet all anyone can yelp is "It wasn't me," or "It was someone else's fault"...

Crewel: PUPS WHO CAN'T OWN UP TO THEIR MISTAKES ARE NO BETTER THAN A MUTT! THEY DON'T EVEN DESERVE TO BE CALLED DOGS!

Students: EEEEP!

Crewel: So tell me, who is the culprit? Tell me truthfully, and you'll only have to deal with a full course of disciplinary action and not a bit more.

Students: Th-That is…

Students: [everyone stares]

Grim: Hm?

Grim: …Wh-Wh-Wh-What? Don't all you be lookin' down on me!

1. I think it'd be better if you just apologize honestly… 2. You'll get a lighter punishment if you just confess now.

Grim: It wasn't me who did that! It's [Yuu], definitely [Yuu]!

Scarabia Student: Don't try to blame [Yuu]. You really don't know how to give up, huh, Grim!

Octavinelle Student: Yeah, you were the one who flipped the table in the first place! There's no way I'm gonna let you take us down with you!

Grim: Heh! Do ya even got any proof that I did it?

Crewel: I see. It definitely won't do to accuse someone of the crime without proper evidence.

Crewel: …By the way, Grim.

Grim: Hm?

Crewel: The fur on your legs have turned black, but why is that? It looks just like that of a black cat.

Grim: Huh? My legs?

Grim: …Woah, you're right! My amazing grey fur's pitch black!

Grim: WH-WHAT'S WITH THIS!? GET RID OF IT FOR MEEE!

Crewel: There's no point in wiping it. The sap from the tree we were to use today turns black upon exposure to air.

Crewel: If it were to touch on your clothes or hair, it wouldn't matter how much you scrub or wash with water, it won't come off.

Crewel: incidentally, to return the blackened part to normal, the fastest method would be to cause another reaction to render it colorless.

Crewel: Look! Everyone see here.

Crewel: When I pour this concoction of herbs onto Grim's blackened legs…

Crewel: See, it returned back to its normal color. Make sure you remember this reaction.

Students: Oooooh.

Crewel: …Now, Grim. Do you have any idea why the ingredients we were to use for today's experiments got on your legs?

Grim: M-M… MYAAAH!

Grim: It ain't my fault! The desk shouldn't've been there!

Crewel: YOU MONGREL! YOU ARE TO STAY AFTER CLASS AND COPY LINES AS PUNISHMENT. UNDERSTAND!?

Crewel: And [Yuu], you're to also stay behind, as Grim's prefect. It would be troublesome if you cannot even look after your own pet!

1. But I have plans after class…

Crewel: Oho, you have plans that take priority over my prescribed discipline? [Yuu shakes their head] …No? A good response from a good boy.

2. I'm sorry…

Crewel: If you truly are sorry, then lets see that as a tangible result. If you can make Grim learn to sit and stay properly as his prefect, then I'll give you a treat.

Crewel: These pups truly are a handful… My beloved pet dogs are much more well behaved.

Crewel: Everyone, sit!

[Crewel magics the ingredients]

Grim: All the stuff I dropped are just floating back on top of the desk. So why's he gotta get on me when he can just fix everything…?

Crewel: The ingredients have been properly prepared once again. I will now explain the procedure for this experiment, so make sure you watch carefully.

Crewel: …I expect all of you to be on your best behavior.

Grim: Urp. He's just glaring at me, now…

[Interior Hallway]

Crewel: Ah, classes are finally over. Today was another tiring day.

Crewel: None of the freshmen listen and the sophomores slack off now that they've gotten used to the classes. And the juniors are teeming with arrogance.

Crewel: If I were a student, I would absolutely have literally knocked some sense into them...

Crewel: However, because of my position, I cannot do that now. I never even thought that I would be more inconvenienced as a professor, than I was as a student.

Crewel: Tch! I knew what I was in for, but still, I hadn't expected being an instructor to be this difficult.

???: And why are you clicking your tongue like that, Crewel-sensei?

Trein: As a professor of this school, I would prefer if you were to carry yourself better, so as to be a good example towards the students.

Crewel: Ugh… And now on top of everything else, someone even fussier has shown up…

Trein: What is with that disgruntled look? Do you take some issue with me?

Crewel: Of course not, don't be absurd! I would never bite back at any commentary you have for me, Trein-sensei.

Trein: Good. We should start to head towards the staff meeting, then.

Trein: Incidentally, you seemed to look rather exhausted a moment ago. Did something happen?

Crewel: No, I wouldn't say there was anything in particular…

Crewel: …I was only thinking of how I could effectively train the students. There are more than a fair share of unruly pups.

Trein: Do you of all people have any right to say that…? Especially since you were one of the rowdiest students during your time here.

Crewel: That was simply youthful ardor. Wasn't I just a charming little thing?

Trein: Don't write it off as simple "youthful ardor." Have a little shame.

Trein: …Well, I suppose it hasn't been too long since you've become a professor, in the end. This year makes… how long?

Crewel: Six years. Have you forgotten our joyous reunion already?

Trein: Hmph. Of course I remember your scowling little, "Oh, professor, were you still here?"

Trein: But only six years, I see… Well, why don't you pat yourself on the back for doing as well as you are for such a short tenure?

Crewel: I'm doing well? …Do you truly think so?

Trein: It is a fact that the rate of students pursuing the sciences have increased since you've arrived. There would be no purpose in denying that your instruction is showing good results.

Crewel: Heh… Heheh, is that right?! Well, I certainly wasn't expecting that coming from you.

Trein: And there you go getting carried away and speaking without any forethought. I do believe I've taught you countless times since your time here as a student to respect your elders, haven't I?

Trein: …Now then, if you're feeling better about yourself, we should get this staff meeting underway. I am keeping Lucius waiting.

[Trein walks off]

Crewel: …How insensitive of you, Trein-sensei.

Crewel: Here I am, patiently enduring everything until I can finally go see my dogs over the weekend, and you say that.

[Alchemy Workshop]

Crewel: Now that the meeting is done with, I should try to finish grading the tests while I can.

Crewel: …The rate of students pursuing the sciences, hm. I suppose it's true that everyone's grades are improving, even if at a slow pace. …A truly slow pace.

Crewel: Heh. I do enjoy seeing these pups grow.

[knock, knock, click]

Grim: Hey! I went 'n did that assignment for ya!

Crewel: What is it that you've done for me...?

1. I'll have him try that again. 2. He just misspoke!

Grim: I-I mean, I finished the assignment ya gave me. I'll put it here on the desk, 'kay?

Grim: …Hm? There's a book with a fancy cover mixed in with all these boring lookin' books. What's this?

Crewel: Oh, did that catch your eye? That book contains the collection of an apparel brand I worked for in the past.

Crewel: I keep telling them to not send anything to my office, but are some who just refuse to listen…

Crewel: Not only do I receive their catalogs, but also phone calls, all asking for my advice for the next fashion season.

Crewel: …It's just like your tests, don't you think? I'll have to fix their mistakes later to the best of my abilities.

Grim: Urgh, that sounds annoying. Why don'tcha just ignore 'em?

Crewel: Ignore them… Hahah, that's one idea. I can imagine their panicked and frantic faces.

Crewel: …But no, I do consider this somewhat of a hobby for me.

Crewel: Just because I've become a professor, that does not mean I can fall behind the current fashion. I want to constantly be checking the latest trends.

Crewel: I'm sure even you'd prefer a fashionably cool instructor over some decrepit, antiquated teacher, right?

1. I want a cool teacher.

Crewel: Right? You're quite a lucky one on that account, pup, because you have me as your homeroom teacher!

2. I want a nice teacher.

Crewel: You'll get bored if they're just nice all the time, you know. You might understand what I mean when you get a bit older.

Grim: I don't really get all that hard fashion stuff, but I totally wanna look cooler!

Crewel: Well, I'll consider that good enough for now. Don't you worry, I'll make sure to turn you into polished gems before graduation.

Crewel: You students here at Night Raven College may have a knack for magic, but your fashion senses are severely lacking.

Crewel: …And since I've taken on the duties of being your teacher, I won't allow that to continue.

Crewel: When I first started here, I vowed that I would craft every single one of you into the most fashionable and capable mages you can be.

Crewel: You have a first-class instructor, and first-rate instruction. …It would be impossible for you all to not become fantastic mages.

Grim: Heh. I'm totally gonna become a great mage even without your help!

Crewel: Hahah, you're a cheeky one. …Now then, if you've finished your task, go on. Looks like your friends have arrived to walk you out.

Crewel: Your time as a student may seem long, but it is deceptively short. I will do what I can to support all of you so that you can live your life here without any regrets.

Requested by @revengeofreaper32.