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#i pulled an all nighter instead of finishing my assignments please help
paincaat · 7 months
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i'm not gonna lie this was meant to be a half a second clip for an animatic i was doing but i got wayyyyy too carried away
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A Perfect End - S.Snape
Summary - Severus and his wife are doing their last minute grading before the end of the term. One of them has more grading to do than the other, the other finding them asleep at their desk.
Pairings - Severus Snape x Fem!Professor!Reader
Warnings - Overworking, Falling asleep at a desk, mentions of not sleeping, Female Reader
Based on this request from an anon
Author's Note - I finally had the time to write this! It's a bit short but I think it turned out cute! I hope you enjoy anon!
Expect delays in my posting! My semester has started and I am taking 4 classes! Please be patient with me!
My requests are open!
my masterlist
Feedback is welcomed and encouraged
Enjoy!
With the end of term quickly approaching, this meant having to grade last minute assignments and catch up on grading. Now she knew that it was her fault for waiting until the last minute to grade her student’s assignments but she had so much on her plate. It finally came the time where the procrastination bit her in the ass. She had been pulling all-nighters left and right trying to get all of her grading done in time. It felt like it was never-ending.
Severus was in a similar boat but he had been able to keep up with it. He was at the tail end of grading his assignments, looking forward to seeing his wife. The two had barely seen each other the last few weeks because of all the grading.
Severus had finished grading his last assignment at midnight making his way to his wife’s office to see if she was still there. What he was met with instead was the sight of her face down on her desk, fast asleep. The only sound filling the room was gentle snores coming from her lips. He quietly approached her, gently rubbing her back to ease her awake.
“Darling, it’s time to wake up,” He whispered gently. She let out a groan in protest, nestling her head deeper into her arms. “Come on, my love. Let’s get to bed.”
“I’m good right here,” She mumbled sleepily.
“No you’re not. I’m going to take you to bed so you can sleep.”
She finally let up, sluggishly getting out of the chair and into the arms of her husband. He led her to their chambers, helping her into bed and following after her. The couple fell asleep almost immediately after getting into the bed. It was the perfect way to end a stressful term.
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@bigsimperika
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stickyy · 4 years
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I loved what you wrote about student! college! aizawa,if it's not too much trouble,I would like to read a second part but it contains a sub!aizawa,dom!reader,mommy kink and pegging please. I have to take advantage of the fact that you are the first blog with dark content that I see that accepts pegging,an opportunity that I will not miss,but if it gets complicated for you oh you don't like it,you can reject my request.
DISCLAIMER: always ask for consent first!
warnings: DUBCON, sub!aizawa, edging, verbal abuse, bondage, pegging, gn!reader but light mommy kink is used in reference to, praise kink if you squint?, slightly unrealistic depictions of pegging, reader is fed up but that doesnt excuse their actions :P
word count: 3489
notes: sorry for the delay, i hope u like anon! :D there should always be more pegging fic out there
part 1 here
EXAM SEASON
Finals season is quickly approaching, sending the entire campus into a frenzy, students scrambling like displaced ants trying to finish last minute assignments, novel-esque essays, merciful extra credit projects. The workload takes its toll on everyone, even the star students. You found Aizawa in even worse moods more frequently; a schedule consisting of all nighters spent studying old material followed by early classes and a job on the side, he was absolutely exhausted. You sometimes sneak a peek over at him during class to see his head bobbing slightly, bloodshot eyes struggling to stay open as he fights sleep. A small part of you feels bad for him; he’s a diligent student, and you were sympathetic to his exhaustion.
You still hate the asshole, though.
You found yourself snagged in a twisted sort of arrangement with Aizawa after midterms. There was always a half-assed attempt at tutoring you before giving up and cramming his cock down your throat or deep inside your cunt, leaving you sore and dripping with his cum, all the while spewing insults targeted at your intelligence (or lack thereof). In exchange, he’d complete your assignments and allow you to copy his answers on exam days. Ignoring the situation is where you make peace with yourself; you feel used, but you also have no other option if you want to pass this class.
What you hate the most is the way you roll over and take it. You’re more than just a hole to fuck, you know that, but you’re helpless against his searing abuse and venomous scowls. Even when you try to be nice, it only makes him crueler, your soft pleas and offers of peace an invitation to tear you down and make you cry. You want to fight, to claw and tear into him out of spite. You don’t want to feel so weak anymore.
So, you decide to do something about it.
It’s late, campus illuminated by street lamps and headlights of cars passing by as you make your way into the dorms. After your first encounter, Aizawa began inviting you back to his room instead of the library, deciding to “study” in his personal space as opposed to possibly getting caught in the library with his cock down your throat. You didn’t complain, but it’s especially convenient today, with what you have planned. Knocking on the door softly, you worry your bottom lip between your teeth, anxious for what’s to come.
“Open,” he calls out from inside, prompting you to enter. You pass through the messy common room he shares with his roommate and enter his bedroom, opening the door quietly. Aizawa’s room is tidy compared to the outside, bed made, tousled only where he sits with his laptop, typing.
“You’re late,” he squints at you from behind the screen, shutting the device. “Not surprising.”
“Sorry,” you mutter, placing your book bag on the floor and taking out the very heavy law textbook (that you hadn’t bothered to open since midterms). You take your seat next to him and open to the most recent chapter you read over. He’s silent, only speaking to answer your questions as you focus on the text. You can tell he’s sleepy, his responses slurred and delayed, and you glance over to see him dozing off. Late study sessions and Aizawa’s recent exhaustion meant more often than not that he fell asleep before tormenting you. The first time was startling, but you learned that it was a regular occurrence. 
You prefer Aizawa when he’s drowsy. His usually hard features were softened, quiet snores rumbling from his chest. His dark hair messily framing his face as he leans back against the headboard of his bed, arms folded over his chest. He’s good-looking, no doubt. If his personality matched, you could see yourself falling for him.
His eyes open, shooting you a questioning look, and you duck your head back into your textbook, embarrassed at being caught staring.
You keep quiet for another 20 or so minutes, waiting until he’s truthfully asleep and not just resting. You have to be careful not to wake him, as you aren’t keen on being reprimanded for what you're about to do.
Once you’ve deemed it safe, you stealthily open your bag and retrieve the small plastic bag stored inside. With the help of online shopping, you bought some handcuffs, lube, a dildo, and a harness. You aren’t all into pegging, but this was less about the sex and more about proving yourself, forcing him to respect you, in some perverse way. You retrieve the cuffs, gripping them carefully as to not make any sounds. This is the most crucial part; as long as you could get him restrained, you’d could dish out any revenge you desire. You slip off of the bed and tip-toe, almost comically, around the other side of the bed. You test the waters, snapping your fingers near Aizawa. He doesn’t stir, chest rising and falling with his deep breathing.
You steel yourself with a deep breath; this was your chance. You make quick work with the handcuffs, gently yet hastily clicking the metal around one wrist and looping the cuffs through the headboard before securing his other wrist. A grin spreads across your face; you’re thankful he’s such a deep sleeper.
Now that you had him where you wanted him, you were paralyzed by the sheer amount of possibilities. You climb over him apprehensively, hovering over the unconscious man, who only shifts minutely. The peaceful look on his face puts a small pit in your stomach; this was wrong… right? Technically, this was assault. You frown, a small chill running down your spine. Is this what you had become? It was almost enough to convince you to stop, but you force yourself to remember the first time Aizawa had his way with you, the way you choked and gagged and had to hide your face until you could find a bathroom to wipe off the dried cum that adhered to your skin.
This was his fault; he made you like this.
“Fuck it,” you say aloud, bracing yourself before grabbing a handful of his hair and yanking, hard. He awakes with a surprised gasp, wrenching his head away from the assault.
“The fuck?” He bites, eyes drowsily scouring the situation. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“Just waking you up,” you smile, releasing your grip. “It’s kind of boring watching you sleep. I thought we were supposed to be studying.”
Aizawa gives you an agitated look, disoriented as he tries to move, only to find his range of motion limited. “You fucking handcuffed me?”
“Yeah, I can’t believe you didn’t wake up,” you chuckle, sliding your hands under his shirt and running your hands over his taut stomach. He keeps his eyes on you with an expectant expression, waiting for an explanation.
“You know, I like you so much more when you're asleep,” you continue, idly tracing patterns on the skin of his abdomen. “No insults, no curses, no glaring. You’re pretty handsome when you’re not being a total douchebag.”
“Let me go,” he ignores you, yanking the handcuffs. “This isn’t funny.”
“I think it’s pretty funny, actually. You’ve spent all semester treating me like shit, and for what? All I’ve done is be nice to you, even after you call me names and abuse me. It hurts my feelings, you know? It’s not like I’m trying to fail this class, I just needed a little extra help, and you take advantage of that every week. So I do think this is pretty fucking hilarious. Maybe you’ll see just how great I feel when you bully me.”
If looks could kill, your heart would have stopped right then and there. Rage burns behind his glare when he meets your eyes, still struggling to break the cuffs. You’d never seen him like this; at his worst, he seems moderately annoyed in your day to day. Despite being an insufferable asshole, he always manages to keep a cool air about him. Never giving anyone much of a reaction, he’s only nasty when he desires. Watching his face take a red tint and his eyes narrow in frustration send waves of satisfaction rippling through your chest. 
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” he grits out, “If you let me go now, I’ll forget all about this. I promise that you don’t want what’s coming for you once I get out of these cuffs.”
He did have a point; you had no idea what you were doing. That wasn’t going to stop you, though.
“Aw, it’s not so fun now, isn’t it?” You coo at him in a demeaning tone, pouting dramatically. Your wandering hands slid to his crotch, where you could feel his length stirring curiously. You bark out a laugh.
Pulling down his sweats and boxers, your mouth waters at his hardening length. Normally, your stomach would drop at the sight in anticipation for physical abuse you were about to receive. But this? This was different; knowing that you’re the one in control is absolutely captivating. You take his cock in your hands, slowly working your hand up and down. He stays silent in defiance, steady in his glare in an attempt to intimidate you. It would work, usually, but with his hands bound there was nothing he could do to you. He’s betrayed by a pleased noise that slips from his throat.
“Don’t tell me you like this? You want to be taken advantage of, is that it?” you taunt, basking in his agitation as you speed your hand up, thumbing the pre gathering on the slit.
“Watch it,” is his only response, voice dangerously low. He keeps quiet, not willing to surrender to the reactions you’re trying to draw from him. It’s a challenge, if anything, and you weren’t going to back down..
He’s fully erect in no time- you’ve spent enough time as his cocksleeve to know exactly what he likes and responds to. His eyes fall shut as you squeeze tighter, hips canting up into your hand, chasing his own release. You keep it up until he gets a little louder, close to release, and you pull your hand away, watching his dick twitch helplessly.
“Fuck- why’d you stop?” he asks groggily, opening his eyes.
“You didn’t think that I was just going to let you cum that easily, did you? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” you shuffle off of the bed, smiling over your shoulder as you hook your thumbs in the band of your leggings. You make a show of sliding the material down over your ass, purposefully leaning over and arching your back. You hear a pleased growl from the bed, causing you to giggle as you pull your underwear down as well.
“You could still let me go,” he offers, giving you a once over as you climb back over him, “I could forget about this if you let me fuck you.”
“Nice try, but I’ll be the one doing the fucking tonight,” you grab your bag from the floor, retrieving the lube but leaving the dildo and harness obscured in the bag. You squeeze a generous amount onto your fingers, causing Aizawa to give you a puzzled look.
“You don’t need lube, you’re always so wet for me,” it’s more of a question than an observation, since your previous trysts never included anything but his spit and your own juices. You just give him a smile before nudging his thighs open with your own, trailing your hand slowly beneath his balls, settling in between his ass and your lubed fingers circle the muscle there. The look on his face is priceless, absolutely shocked at the prospect of you inside of him. He thrashes in protest but you’re steadfast, pinning his hips down with your other hand.
“You can’t be serious,” his voice is alarmed, almost erring on the side of anxious, “you’re dumber than I thought if you think you’re just going to get away with any of this shit.”
“And what are you gonna do about it?” you sing-song, using your dry hand to tug playfully on the cuffs, “You’re a little tied up at the moment.”
“I’m going to beat your cunt up when I get out of these,” it’s a threat, and you ignore the way your stomach flutters at the words, eyes trained on his as you push two fingers inside.
He grunts, his face scrunching up, almost cutely, at the burn of the stretch. You expected him to be tight, but given how tense he is, it’s difficult to push all the way inside. You take it slow, savoring the pained expression on his face; it’s a stark contrast to his cocky demeanor when you’re being subjugated to his abuse. His chest is heaving, a lovely red flush spreading across his skin, eyebrows knit tight, lips bitten red- you’re obsessed. You move your fingers in and out slowly, scissoring just gently enough not to seriously hurt him, but enough to watch him writhe. His dick twitches despite (or maybe due to?) the pain, still red and dripping.
“This is priceless,” you laugh, “if you wanted to get fucked so badly, all you had to do was ask, you know? Mommy would’ve taken care of it for you.”
“Mommy?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, “you’re insane.”
Any further insult is cut off with a sharp gasp, eyes shooting open in shock, and you know you’ve found it.
You stroke his prostate with a heavy hand, grinding your fingers into the spongy spot inside of him as he struggles to breathe, back arching deliciously. You can’t help but smirk; you kind of get it now. If this is how tormenting you makes Aizawa feel, then you understand why he was so cruel.
“Fuck,” he chokes on a whine that sends heat down your spine, . Your wrist is beginning to strain, but you can’t bring yourself to care. It’s cute; he’s writhing, his hips seeking the stimulation he was previously avoiding as he moans openly, loudly. His cock is an angry purple, pre pooling on his stomach from where it’s leaking. He looks like he’s close, eyes beginning to roll back when you pull your fingers out, laughing as you ruin his orgasm for the second time.
“Please,” he’s breathless, a betrayed look on his face as his hips rock on nothing, desperate to cum.
“Begging already? We haven’t even gotten started yet!”
You reach over into the plastic bag, pulling out the dildo and harness. You can clearly see the fear on his face this time as he moves to sit up, the fog of pleasure clearing quickly.
“Wait,” panic sets in his voice yet again. If you were him, you would be scared too; the toy is thicker than the two fingers you used, something you chose purposefully. You stand and slip on the harness, ignoring his attempts to reason with you.
“What’s wrong? I thought I didn’t know what I was doing?” you ask innocently, forcing your hips between his legs and drizzling some lube on the toy, warming it up with your palm.
“That’s the fucking problem, you idiot, you don’t,” he seethes, pulling on the restraints again, “It won’t fit, and you’re not sending me to the hospital.”
“Exactly, I won’t send you to the hospital. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you,” you coo, settling between his legs.
“Just let me go,” it’s the first genuine plea you’ve heard from him, the sincerity pulling your attention to his eyes where you see a look you can’t quite place. He looks… afraid? Remorseful? It’s enough to give you pause, equal parts consideration and schadenfreude. You settle for leaning forward and placing an uncharacteristically saccharine kiss on his forehead, your humanity getting the best of you.
“All you have to do is relax, okay?” you whisper, resting the tip of the toy against his entrance. He shuts his eyes in anticipation, resigned to his fate, and you push in gently, watching his hole swallow the silicone. The way Aizawa contorts, back bowed to scoot away from the pressure of the toy is salacious, drawing a moan from deep within your chest. He can’t get far due to the restraints, and he lets out a soft sob at the stretch of the toy, face scrunched tight. You push slowly until you bottom out, your hips pressed firmly against his, grinding in small circles to alleviate your own ache. He exhales shakily, unaware that he was holding his breath.
“See, it’s not so bad right?” you soothe, rubbing your thumb against his hip soothingly. “You should be grateful; I’m so much nicer than you are.”
“Fuck you,” it comes out weaker than intended, his voice strained as he tries to adjust to the girth of the toy. 
You pull out slowly, experimentally, watching his stomach clench from the sensation of silicone caressing his insides. His dick gives an interested twitch, despite his demeanor, and that’s the invitation you need to start moving. It’s a little awkward at first, but your enthusiasm combined with the size of the toy more than makes up for your inexperience. He’s breathless, still uncomfortable, but you can see his body slowly relax as he tries to make sense of the sensations coursing through his body.
“You like this, don’t you?” you dig, eyes transfixed on his face, “Is that why you're so mean to me? You strut around like an asshole, just to hide the fact that you’re just a little bitch?”
You focus on angling your hips, searching for his prostate again, and when you find it, you commit to fucking him. He’s loud, stray tears sliding down his face as his body struggles to comprehend both the pain of the stretch and pleasure of the abuse.
“Fuck, you’re cute like this,” you sigh, “you’re meant for this, aren’t you? Meant to get your ass bred by your Mommy? You’d be so much more tolerable if you were sweet like this all of the time.”
His dick jerks violently but he shakes his head with a weak ‘no’, too lost in the sensation to retort any further. You’re soaked by now, the pressure of the toy on your end combined with the power trip pushing you to the edge. It takes all of your self-control, but you suddenly stop, unwilling to let yourself finish so quickly; there’s still unfinished business here.
“Tell me I’m pretty,” it comes out before you can even really think about it, but the words hang heavily in the air.
“Huh?”
“You’re never nice to me, so if you want me to even consider letting you cum, you better start kissing up.”
He hesitates, but when you shift slightly and the blunt head of the toy rubs against his prostate, he changes his tune very quickly.
“Fuck- you’re cute, ‘s the reason why I’m mean to you. So cute when you’re about to cry-” you give him a particularly hard slap on his ass and he winces, muttering a quick apology.
“You’re pretty even when I’m not fucking you, too,” is all you get, but it’s the first genuine compliment you’ve gotten out of the asshole since you’ve met him, and your heart soars. He’s awful and mean and evil but the simple statement is enough for you.
“I’ll let you cum if you beg for it,” you grunt, rutting your hips enthusiastically. You’re close, but you refuse to finish first. He’s needy, thanks to being edged twice, and he’s unable to resist your promise.
“Please, fuck, please let me cum,” he whimpers, voice wet and eyes watery.
“Please what?”
“Mommy! Fuck, please mommy, just let me cum, it hurts, fuck, please,” he babbles, and it’s enough for you. You wrap your hand around his cock and stroke it firmly, hips speeding up as you chase your own release. It’s quick- he finishes almost embarrassingly fast, and the whorish wail that rips from his throat sends you right over the edge, your vision blurring at the corners as you stay trained on his face, obscene and submissive.
It’s quiet after you stop, both of you catching your breath. You pull out slowly, watching the way his hole flutters and you giggle, your body and ego fully satiated. You look back to his face; he looks more fucked out than you’ve ever seen him, almost like he’s about to fall back asleep.
“Can we call it a truce?” You break the silence, grinning as he cracks open an eye to give you a scalding look.
“Fuck. You.”
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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years
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Relax
Based Off Of This Ask
And This One
A/N: Just wanted to do something soft sweet and spicy🥺...I and just about everyone else definitely use some of this. Enjoy🙃
You were completely over it all. It was only the first half of the semester and you were already feeling like you weren’t going to make it and just crumble under the pressure. You were drowning in assignments and on top of that, you weren’t getting enough sleep or time to recover from pulling so many all-nighters to get said assignments done. To make matters worse, you hadn’t had any real time with Harry in almost two weeks. If you had to choose what was worse, between your school mess and little time with Harry, you’d choose the latter. A good cuddle, Harry’s soothing words, and anything else he had up his sleeve would be the perfect remedy to this storm of stress. You were hoping that you could get some of that before you made it to the verge of collapse and breakdown. But by the looks of it, you were right at that point and Harry was going to have to build you back up. 
You’d finally finished your last assignment for the day and you were so out of it. You had a headache, you were hungry, you were tired, and you were stressed. Nothing good could possibly come from that. While Harry was downstairs cooking dinner for you both, you were upstairs sitting up in the bed putting the final touches onto your assignment before finally hitting the submit button. And once you did, you couldn’t stop yourself from crumbling. You waste no time closing your laptop, pushing it from in front of you, and burying your face in the pillows. You wrap your arms tightly around the soft pillows and you just relax your body and mind. Even though it was supposed to be a good experience to let the stress melt away, you couldn’t stop the tears from bubbling up in your eyes. Your chest was heavy and you were right where you didn’t want to be. You were crumbling. You couldn’t take any more. Your mind and body were beyond overloaded and this was the only way to have some type of peace. Your body shook as you continuously sobbed into the pillows. Since you kept your grip on the pillows tight, you couldn’t hear Harry come up the stairs and into the bedroom.
When he came up, he wanted to let you know that dinner was ready and that you guys could relax and maybe watch a movie since you’d been extremely busy in the weeks leading up to now. But when he came into the room to find you sobbing on the bed, he realized that you were going to need a lot more than dinner and a movie. Harry is quick to come over to the bed and move your laptop onto the bedside table before crawling up next to you. This is what Harry hated the most. He was absolutely gutted to see you sobbing in bed. What he hated even more was why you were crying. You cared so much and worked so hard when it came to school and you were always putting your best foot forward. So to see you become a complete wreck from your school work was incredibly disheartening. 
Now instead of immediately jumping in and asking you what was wrong, Harry just laid there with you. He kept his hand moving up and down your back and just let you get it all out. Whenever he was in a situation like this, you always let him get it out before moving on to making him feel better. And it always worked. Once you’ve let out the heavy tears, leaving the little ones that were hanging back, you finally let go of the pillows and lifted your head to turn towards Harry. 
“Baby!” He coos worriedly , looking into your reddened eyes and tear stained cheeks. 
“It’s too much.” You mumble to him, feeling a fresh set of tears bubbling up. 
“I know baby, but it’ll get better. I can promise you that.” He reassures, bringing his hand up to your warm cheek. 
“I don’t know Harry, it’s only the first semester and I’m already drowning.” You whisper back pessimistically.
“You’ll get through it sweetheart, I promise. And I’ll help you out, maybe write an essay or two.” He continues with a smile, trying to lighten up the mood a little. 
“Thanks babe. But I don’t think you’d make it through the first five pages of one essay, let alone two.” You chuckle, already feeling a little lighter.
“I think I could make it through one of them. I mean, I do write songs after all.” He replies smartly. 
“I would try and come up with a good comeback for there being no correlation between song writing and essay writing but my brain would literally explode.” You reply quickly with a sarcastic and wide smile. 
“I’m not gonna say that I’m wrong, but I’m not gonna say you’re right either.” He replies. 
“I know.” You reply, softly smiling at him.
“I love you though.” He whispers sweetly. 
“I love you too.” You reply with a wide smile.
“Wanna take a bath to relax baby?” He asks with a pout, bringing his hands down to squeeze your shoulder.
“Mhm.” You mumble back to him. 
“Y’want everything you like in there?” Harry asks, moving away from you to get off of the bed. 
“Yes please.” You sigh happily as Harry makes his way to the bathroom to get everything ready for you. 
And after almost 20 minuets of fumbling around in the bathroom, Harry fills up the bathtub with the perfectly warm water along with your favorite salts, bubble bath, and oils that you kept in the basket you’d designated for your baths. He even lights the candles you kept with everything else. Once everything is set up and perfect, Harry rushes back into the bedroom to whisk you into the mini oasis that he created for you in the bathroom. 
“Now let’s get these off and and get you in there.” He huffs, sitting you back down on the floor before bringing his hands over to remove your clothes. He quickly helps you out of your clothes, leaving you naked in front of him. He then helps you into the bathtub and allows you to get comfortable. 
“Are you gonna get in with me?” You ask, looking up to him for a response. 
“Y’want me to?”
“Pretty please?” You pout up to him. And with that, Harry proceeds to remove all of his clothes as well so that he can join you. When he makes it to his sweats, he quickly pushes them down his legs leaving him completely naked in front of you. And you couldn’t help but bring your eyes up to the area between his legs, causing a little smile to spread across your face. 
“Can’t help it, y’too pretty.” He explains, before stepping into the tub behind you. He then sinks down into the water and wraps his arms around your body, pulling you back towards him.
“Could you maybe- y’know…” You whisper timidly back to him. From your tone alone, Harry could already sense what you were getting at. 
“Want me t’fill you up baby?” He mumbles into your ear, unwrapping his arms from around your middle and bringing it down to your lower stomach. “Want me in here?” He continues. 
“Mhm.” You softly mumble back in response. 
“Use your words doll.” He pushes on a little, wanting to hear from your mouth. 
“Want you inside.” You whisper.
“That’s a good girl, now turn around f’me.” He instructs, loosening his hold on you so that you could turn around. Once you do you bring yourself back up to his lap, kneeling on both sides of him with your hands on his shoulders. Keeping one arm around your waist, Harry brings the other down to line himself up with your entrance. He then begins to slowly guide you down onto him, and as you do, both you and Harry sink your teeth into your lower lips and let out a string of small moans. This was the closest you two had been in good little while. Plus you liked the feeling of him filling you up. “Feelin’ better sweets?” Harry asks once you’ve taken all of him inside. 
“Nice and relaxed.” You hum in response, lowering your head into the crook of his neck and relaxing your body in his lap.
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vanilla-vivillon · 3 years
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"we're exes and we meet again" maybe?
Oooooooooh interesting!!! I decided to do a Genya Safin x David Kostyk one because I haven’t done that yet for some reason
Also college AU yes please.
Genya Safin knows what she wants
And what she wants is to get through her studies
Become a plastic surgeon
Support her friends
Maybe get a cat
What she doesn’t want is to meet her high school ex at a party
She doesn’t want to talk with him for hours
She doesn’t want to relive the hurt
But the universe never does care for what we want does it
“C’mon Nazyalensky it will be fun!” Nikolai was trying to convince Zoya to come to the party he was throwing in his dorm
Nikolai was throwing a party to celebrate the start of there third year at Stanford
“Nikolai there is a lot of studying we should be doing instead of drinking our cares away” Zoya shot back
“Genya, love, please knock some sense into Zoya?”
“It could be fun, plus the school year started two weeks ago. No profesor is going to assign a big test anytime soon” Genya said
“You have never met Proffesor Baghra” Zoya said Speeding up
They were all walking to the dormitories together
Zoya was studying law. She wants to be a lawyer
“Are you really gonna let some old hag with a stick up her ass ruin your fun?” Genya retorted stopping in front of them
After a long pause zoya finnally relents and says “Fine. I’ll go, but for you, that way your not stuck with Alina and Mals drama”
Ever since Alina started screwing the professor with the the dreamy dark eyes and looked far to good to ever be a professor, mal had been insufferable
Flashing his million dollar smile Nikolai turned towards Zoya “I knew you would see sense”
“Now leave my sight before I change my mind” Nikolai sped off towards his dorm no doubt to finish preparations for tonight
Genya typically enjoyed parties
Cool people, cool music, cool boys
The list went on
Reapplying her deep red lipstick Genya turned towards her roommate Alina
Alina Starkov was a foster kid bouncing around homes in a small town, Keramzin.
She and her friend Mal felt so out of place in California
Genya helped her a lot in the first year and after some drama in there second year friendship was finally back on track
“Okay how do I look?” Genya asked giving a little spin
She chose a short red dress with a black leather jacket and thigh high black boots
“You look Perfect” Alina complimented finishing up on her own eyeliner
“Of course I do”
Alina laughed that fluttery sound that had become far to rare these days
“Listen Alina, I’m worried about you”
Alina took a pause before answering “I’m fine Genya”
“Alina you’re sleeping with your professor”
“So what!” Alina snapped “We’re both adults! Besides I don’t want to talk about this tonight, let’s just go to the party”
Genya let out a sigh
Sometimes Alina could be the most stubborn woman on earth
“Fine”
Loud music was blaring through the speakers Nikolai borrowed from Mal
Genya was socializing with some of her friends
While Genya did like parties the constant people was always a little stressful for her
So after giving some dating advice Genya went to go grab some beer
Pouring it Genya reflected
She was doing well in her classes, most of her friends were okay, she personally didn’t have a cat but across the hall from her is some dude Harshaw who did
one thing was missing
Him
Journals and glasses and caramel candies
Genya had been in love once in her life
And it’s seemed once was all she would ever get
“Oh sorry!” Genya exclaimed accidently spilling beer on someone
Looking up she lost her breath
There he was
All brown hair and wide eyes and sunkissed skin
And all the memories came crashing back
Geny first fell in love with him in the sixth grade
Well not love really
More like awe.
Back then he was really into legos
He built this giant airplane that Genya thought was so cool
But they first talked in seventh grade
They were partners in a group project
David hadn’t been very interested in Genya then
But Genya even then loved the way his brain worked
But she never said anything
In there sophomore year of high school after years of being friends Genya finally got the courage and told him her feelings
David was so suprised then he had to leave the room and come back two minutes later to say he reciprocated her feelings
They started dating and were inseparable
Whenever David had been pulling an all nighter on some new idea she would go over to his house and bring him some Carmel candies
Whenever she raved on about this new surgery technique he would listen and give her that soft beautiful smile he rarely showed anyone
But there happiness came crashing down in senior year
David was going to go to MIT all the way in Massachusetts while Genya wanted to go to Stanford in California since she was a kid
At first they were going to do long distance
But it didn’t work out
They both got busy
And didn’t talk
And Genya hated having a boyfriend who was never there
There was never some big fight
Never some big cheating scandal
One day Genya posted a picture of her on a date with the cute classmate who winked at her and that was that
They never saw each other again
But that might change tonight where she met those impossible chocolate eyes again
“What are you doing here?” Genya said after her shock
“Genya, I…. I live here” David said stuttering
Clearly he was just as suprised as she was
“Hey Genya you meet my new roommate David!” Suddenly Nikolai appeared “He just transferred from MIT”
Transferred
He transferred
David Kostyk transferred to Stanford
The one who got away was standing right in front of her
“Do you two know each other?” Nikolai asked sensing the tension
Ignoring him, Genya said “would you like to talk outside?”
After knowing David for years Genya knew she should probably initiate conversation
David gave a slow nod ignoring his roommate’s bewildered face
Walking outside they turned to each other again
He had gotten cuter if that was even possible
“So…. You transferred?” Genya attempted to start talking
“MIT was great, but it felt kinda isolating. So when Nikolai suggested transferring… I took him up on the offer”
Oh
Oh
That made sense
David always had a hard time making friends
In high school Genya practically had to force him into her friend group
It mustve be hard all alone
Genya was the opposite
Although all through elementary school she was ruthlessly bullied and sophomore year of college was complicated, she had always been able to make friends
“Well I’m glad your here now” Genya said looking away to hide her blush
“I think I’m glad to”
David and Genya talked the whole night
About there studies and friends
Genya couldn’t way to introduce him to Alina
They had a lot in commmon
Things between the two weren’t perfect
But then again in matters of the heart it never was
Genya wasn’t sure of what she wanted
But if she had a Carmel loving genius by her side she might be able to be okay with that
Omg it’s finally done. This has to be one of the most difficult things I’ve written. I didn’t enjoy it at all but I’m really glad I went through with it. Thank you @ninamorozova and @confused-as-all-hell for encouraging me to complete this.
Thank you @wafflesandschemingfaces for the prompt
If yall really like this I might make a part two with David’s perspective
Please reblog. Likes are nice but te logs actually help
My ask box is open and I take any Grishaverse requests
84 notes · View notes
izabellq · 4 years
Text
Costumes -> Tamaki Amajiki
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summary: you accidentally match costumes with tamaki. prepare yourself for a whole day of endless shenanigans.
contains: MAJOR FLUFF, language if you squint (ik canonically, mirio is in 3-B, but for the sake of this plot, the big three are all in 3-A) also, i tried to make this gender-neutral, so if there’s any specified pronouns, let me know and i’ll fix it ASAP!
THIS IS MY HALLOWEEN SPECIAL! (im very much aware i posted this a day late oop)
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UA had decided to hold a special event where students could wear their Halloween costume to school. You weren’t planning anything special or unique, just something to get the job done. So, you decided to dress like a cute puppy. It was only a simple onesie: topped with cute floppy dog ears on your hood, and a tail that attached from the bottom. You weren’t expecting to get a lot of attention, which was perfectly fine with you because you were never the type to seek the stage. You topped off the simple look with a black spot on your nose and one around your eye. And just like, you were good to go.
When you walked into school, you couldn’t help but feel a tad bit insecure. It seemed like everyone had decked out for this special occasion. You passed by some anime cosplay, food costumes, group oriented costumes — everything you could possibly think of. And as you made your way to your class, you wondered what Tamaki would be wearing.
You couldn’t help yourself. It was undeniably true that you had a rather large crush on him. Everything about him was enticing. He was so shy that it was usually you who initiated conversation, but that wasn’t enough to make you falter. You understood he wasn’t the most socially active person around. To be frank, it was rather comforting to know that not everyone at UA was a egotistical narcissist.
Finding your assigned seat, you scanned the class. Some of your peers also took the simple route which put some of your thoughts at ease. Others, the more competitive students, were quite impressive themselves.
You turn towards the doorway when Mirio’s booming voice gathers the room’s attention. He was wearing a... whoopie cushion? Oh dear lord. Mirio was a stickler for humor, so of course, he’d wear practically anything that could rise a laugh out of someone. Only, his jokes kind of sucked and no doubt would the class of 3-A be subject to awful fart jokes for the rest of the day. You weren’t so worried about that as you were worried about the two other students usually attached to his hip. One of them being Tamaki Amajiki.
The next one to stop into class was Nejire Hado who was absolutely breathtaking. Her costume, which was nothing more than a fairy, seemed to capture her true personality perfectly. Although, an angel would also be very accurate in her case. She turned towards the entrance way and stuck her head out into the hallway, “Tamaki! Don’t be shy! You look so cute!”
Your heart began to beat just a little bit faster.
“Mirio! Come help me out with him,” Nejire stomped into the hallway, the fluttering of her makeshift wings dissappeared, only to be followed by a laughing Mirio.
When they returned, their hands were clasped over Tamaki’s wrists, forbidding him from turning around and sulking out in the hallway. When you saw him, you’re taken aback. The smallest of gasps erupt from your lips when you notice his costume choice. A onesie, similar to yours, but instead of the dog ears; replaced with cat ones, and a longer tail attached to the back. He had the same minimal face paint (lined whiskers and a nose) as you did, curtesy of Nejire.
When he looked up, his cheeks were flamed with embarrassment. He found your gaze, and if it were possible, he became even more sheepish. You weren’t any different. The thought of having a matching costume with Tamaki, despite not having any prior arrangements, made you equally embarrassed. Now, all you wondered was, did he notice?
Well, if he didn’t before, he sure did now when Nejire spoke up, “Hey Y/N! Oh my– are you a puppy? How cute! Wait! You’re matching with Tamaki! Now you two look like an adorable couple!”
Her excitement, plus her lack of censorship, made the class laugh— everyone’s attention on you and Tamaki. “Nejire...” Tamaki muttered. He stared at the floor, wishing it’d just swallow him whole.
“You guys should take a picture together,” Mirio suggested, walking over to where you sat and giving you a hand. You hesitantly took it, positive that you looked about ready to vomit or pass out. Maybe both. In that order.
Dragged to stand next to Tamaki, you spare him a single glance. He has his left hand up to his face, doing a shoty job at covering his red cheeks. To you, he seemed... more embarrassed than usual? Perhaps he just didn’t wanted to match costumes with you. It saddened you, but it wasn’t like you could do anything about it now.
Nejire laughed, “Say cheese!”
Tamaki mumbled something that you could only assume was in response to Nejire. In a small pickle of confidence, you grabbed his hand and entangled your fingers with his just before the camera went off.
“Cheese!”
That was first period.
When lunch rolled around, Tamaki had face planted himself on the table.
Nejire and Mirio sent each other a knowing look before moving to console him.
“I don’t understand why you’re not happy, Tamaki! You’re matching costumes with them, you got a picture with them, and they also held your hand!” Nejire listed off the things that happened before the bell rang, signaling the start of first period.
“I am happy...” Tamaki muttered, lifting himself up from the table, “But they probably hate me now.”
“I wouldn’t say that!” Mirio added, “Haven’t I told you that they most definitely have a crush on you?”
“No offense Mirio... but I’m not too keen on taking advice from a literal walking whoopie cushion.” Tamaki propped his arm on the table, before leaning his head into the palm of his hand. The same one you had so eagerly held. He wished to repeat the notion a million more times. Only now, he was afraid he had messed up his one and only opportunity.
Mirio gasped, “I’ll have you know that I got many compliments today!”
Nejire giggled before turning back to Tamaki. “Why don’t we just call them over here?”
“I- um, no... I’d rather not do that,” Tamaki rushed out. He wasn’t sure if he could handle another awkward occurrence with you. You’d surely find him weird.
“Where are they anyways?” Mirio asked, not before sinking his teeth on the apple provided on his lunch tray.
“Oh I see them!” Nejire not-so-subtly pointed at you. Tamaki couldn’t help himself as he turned to look in your direction.
You were laughing at something someone had said before adding your own little quip. You were so cute, he thought. Nejire was the one who suggested he wear a cat-themed costume due to the running joke that he was a ‘cute little kitten’. He was prepared to arrive in his normal uniform but Nejire’s persistence was unwavering. And if he knew what you’d be wearing— would he have accepted the costume more easily? You deserved better than him, he knew, but a small part of him fantasized about the ways you’d love him in a way no one else had before.
“Earth to Tamaki,” Nejire sang, snapping him out of his thoughts. “They’re coming over here, straighten up!”
“Hey Y/N, care to sit?” Mirio asked.
Tamaki’s looking down by the time you got there, so he barely registers it when you sit beside him. Your shoulder rubs against his in brief contact and it makes him shudder. He hopes you didn’t notice.
“What’s up guys?” You brought over a juice box from your other table, sipping on the straw of your drink rather intently.
“Tell Tamaki that my costume is funny!” Mirio piped up, distracted from the match-making he was SUPPOSED to be doing.
You nervously giggled, “Well... your costume is certainly an attention-grabber!”
Mirio seemed pleased with that answer, not having considered the fact that you dodged the question the best way you knew how. Tamaki stared at you, adoration etched into his irises. He didn’t realize he had left out a soft laugh until you were staring at him.
He choked up, “Uh- sorry... I didn’t mean to laugh.”
You smiled, a picture definition of the word perfect. Everything about you, he loved. He just loved you in general. “You don’t need to apologize Tamaki! Your laugh is very cute!”
You pinched his cheek before continuing your previous conversation with Mirio and Nejire. Did you even realize what you were doing to him? He hid his face in his arms and rested on the lunch table. Tamaki knew his face was probably several shades of red and pink. He was only wondering how long it would take before you’d actually kill him with your presence.
And that concluded lunch.
The last period of the day came and went uneventfully. And soon enough, class 3A had returned to the dorms, agreeing to remain in their respective costumes until the clock striked midnight. Some students had decided to spend the night on a scary movie binge, while others payed no mind to the event by studying and finishing thier cumulated late assignments.
You on the other hand we’re stuck in the kitchen, preparing some coffee to get you through the night. Mirio and Nejire had wanted to pull an all-nighter as well, which meant you had to figure out a way to not fall alseep before midnight hit. You already had a messed up sleep schedule as it was, so one more added incentive should make the whole evening smooth sailing.
“Y-Y/N?”
You turn towards the kitchen doorway where Tamaki stood, a bit shellshocked from your presence. Still in that cat onesie, you could see his whiskers had become a bit smudged.
You smiled at him, an ache wrapped around your chest became noticeably present to you. “Amajiki! Shouldn’t you be up in Mirio’s room with Nejire? I’ll be up there in a second, I just gotta finish this.”
“Ah, well,” Tamaki moved into the kitchen, fidgeting with his fingers as he talked. “You were taking a while, so they sent me to check up on you. I’m glad you’re o-okay though.”
You hummed in acknowledgment, turning back to the light stirring of the coffee machine. Your fingers uncoordinatedly tapped the kitchen’s counter, a melodic beat strung to match your voice. Tamaki watched with amusement— nothing like the sight of you in your element could make him any happier.
Actually, there was one thing that would be slightly better.
Slowly, he approached you until he had occupied the space beside you. You noticed him almost immediately, but had pretended to take more interest in your coffee than him. Your heart rate picked up, leaving you to mentally curse your inability to remain calm.
“I have a question,” His voice was hushed, a bit unsure of itself. You turned to look at him but his vision remained on the counter.
“What’s up?” When the coffee machine stilled, you pulled your mug out and carefully placed it in front of you. The smell of the roasted beans infiltrated your nostrils and you couldn’t get enough of it.
“Do you- I mean... I think I’m... no that’s not right. I think it’d better if I just show you...” He bit the inside of his lip, whilst finally mustering the courage to look at you. You’re eyes were widened with curiosity, the reflection of the night settling in your skin.
He moves slightly closer, and when you don’t move away, he softly places his hand on your cheek, angling your face so your centimeters away from each other. Tamaki tries to speak, but he honestly didn’t even think he’d get this far. He’s left utterly speechless. Perhaps if Fatgum were here, he’d supply him with the confidence he needed to pull this off. His anxiety-prone thoughts began to take initiative and he starts to pull away, believing to have bit off more than he could chew. He really did believe you deserved better than him.
But your still there. You’ve always been there. In more ways than one. You grip the front of his onesie and pull him back to his previous spot. His hand recupped your face, and you take this opportunity of surprise to place your lips on his. Nothing more than a second long, only the brush of your lips before the tingling sensation had dissappeared all together.
It wasn’t enough. For either of you. You can’t remember who surged forward first, but it couldn’t have mattered less. The only thing that was being even remotely processed was the heat of your frenzied kisses. Tamaki poured all of his emotions into that moment; from the way he felt when seeing you in your puppy onesie to the butterflies that clouded his mind whenever he thought of you.
You were the first to pull back out of breath. You don’t care that your makeup is beyond repair, or that his is either. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you muttered six words into the smooth crevice of his skin, completely forgetting about the coffee you were prepping for yourself. “I love you, I always have.”
Tamaki smiled, though the nervousness hadn’t completely disappeared. “I love you too.” He admitted, feeling his heart flutter at the mutual affection. It wasn’t one-sided after all, not one bit.
Maybe he ought to take more advice from his friend the whoopie cushion.
Then again, maybe not.
“There waiting for us you know,” Your voice was a bit muffled, having been the after-effect of hiding your face in his neck. He understood you perfectly nonetheless.
“They can wait a little longer,” His arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you impossibly closer.
“Kiss me again,” You pleaded.
And so, he did just that.
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catzula · 4 years
Note
Hello hello! I saw that you're opening requests so here i am! May i have a fic of Katsuki where he found the reader who's usually is a tough nut to crack, is 99% of the time never really cry and acts like a crackhead suddenly starts crying after one of Katsuki's empty insults he usually threw at her? And it turns out that she was very overwhelmed about the amount of work, deadlines, pressure and pretty much problems twirling around her to the point where one insult that she KNOWS he didn't even mean it can throw her over the edge? And Katsuki just went '?!?!?!' and didn't know what to do? Kinda feeling pretty much like this rn lmao, and kinda want comfort especially if it's from the boom boom man.
Anyways- i absolutely adore your work!
•words and promises•
A/N: this request was really cute and so relatable cuz ever since the schools started again, they've been going so hard on us I don't even have the time to sleep sometimes (but I have the time to write- ironic huh) I hope you're feeling better now, tho! Thank you so much for the request, I hope this was comforting rather than triggering cuz bakugou is mean here lmao
bnha taglist!: @astroninaaa
W.C: 3.2k
Warnings: cursing, insecurities (I think?), stress and anxiety
Genre: angst with a good ending, comfort
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"And please hand the summary in by Friday. Todoroki-kun, could you make sure to collect them from everyone and hand them to me?" Midnight asked with a bright smile, leaving the room when Todoroki nodded, everyone else groaning in frustration.
"She wants us to read a whole goddamn book and summarize it in a week?" Kaminari cried out, voicing all of your inner thoughts.
"You, know, Kaminari-kun, it's not entirely impossible to do that." Iida interrupted, fixing his glasses. It would've been a bit more convincing if he didn't have purple bags under his eyes and looked like he was about to pass out.
"Maybe It wouldn't have been impossible if we didn't have 20 other summaries and essays to write!" Mina shot back, and Iida had no answers to that.
You stood silent, but that was because you felt like you couldn't breathe. Everything they were saying was true, this was all too much, and you had no idea how to overcome it. Not even aware you zoned out, you were awoken by your state by a hard snap of a finger in front of your eyes.
"Watcha looking at?" The owner of the fingers asked, and despite his hard voice, his ruby red eyes had a playful glint to them.
"I was just worried if you're smart enough to actually finish an assignment." You told mockingly, and he scoffed.
"Look at the one talking, you were the one who came to my door last night, begging me to help you with the science homework."
"I didn't beg!" You protested. "I just asked you if you did it and you offered to help me!"
"I offered to help just because I pitied you." He muttered, his harsh words causing the rest of the class to gasp and look at you, half expecting you to get mad and scream at him, even though this scene was happening more often than they would like to admit.
These little fights you had with Bakugou was now almost a part of their day. It was an odd relationship you had, always attacking each other, sometimes maybe taking it a bit far, but both of you always knew it wasn't coming from the heart.
When you stood silent, sending a mocking laugh his way, and kept scrolling through Instagram, he was a little surprised.
You were never silent, you always, always had something to say back. In fact, that was one of the things he loved- hated about you. Whatever he told you, you had something clever or dumb to say, and you were so brutally blunt when he fought with you, sometimes he found himself laughing at the insults you threw at him.
Still, his pride stopped him from asking if something was wrong, on the contrary, he was happy to finally have some quiet time, he told himself. You could feel his eyes on you as you thoughtlessly scrolled through your Instagram feed, but you didn't have it in you to argue, you were too tired for that.
Bakugou scoffed after looking at you for a while, still expecting you to poke fun at him, but when you sat still, he gritted his teeth and sat back at his place.
■■■
Bakugou never thought he would miss arguing with you.
He noticed you were acting a bit odd, not once trying to get in a fight with him, not even a snarky comment coming from your way. It was weird to see you so quiet, and it was getting on his nerves.
You weren't entirely silent, but whenever he tried to lul you into fighting with him, you just looked at him with a blank smile and went on doing whatever it was you were doing. And Bakugou was not someone you could just ignore.
Your friends had started to catch up with Bakugou's growing frustration, his now harder comments, and how you simply ignored them. They thought you were tired of him (really, who could judge you? Everyone knew how extra Bakugou sometimes could be), and didn't think of it as much, except one particular red-head.
Kirishima noticed how you clenched your teeth, how your hands turned into fists, your knuckles turning white whenever you heard a comment about you. He was probably the only one that actually understood the odd relationship between you and Bakugou, so Kirishima was more than aware that something was troubling you. He also knew better than just simply asking you, well aware you would never accept that there was, in fact, something bothering you.
You had never been the type to talk about your feelings easily, always trying to fix things by yourself, and taking pride by doing things alone. Your stubborn nature sometimes reminded him too much of a certain ashy blonde.
"Hey, Y/N." He approached you at a break, noticing the dark circles under your eyes. "Oh, hey, Kiri-kun, what's up?" You asked with a slightly forced smile when you felt his eyes examining you.
"Nothing much, we're gonna meet up in Mina's dorm tonight, you know, to partly study and talk. You've been kinda distant lately, you wanna come?" You bit your lip thoughtfully. You wanted to go, but there was so much to do and so little time that you felt like you didn't even have time to sleep, let alone spend time with your friends.
"I- I don't know." You muttered with an apologetic smile. "I don't think I can, I really should work on the homework."
"Oh come on," He insisted. "You don't have to stay long, and it's nice to take a break sometime, you know."
Taking a break. Something you've been putting off doing for a long time.
"You've been pushing yourself quite a lot, you know. Don't think we missed how tired and stressed you've been lately."
"I'm not-" You tried to deny, but sighed when he looked like he wouldn't believe whatever you told him. "Okay, I'll be there." You told him, and he sent you a cheeky smile.
"Just make sure we have enough coffee."
"I personally will take care of that." He winked, and you giggled, shaking your head side to side. You didn't even notice the ruby eyes watching you two as you laughed, a dreadful feeling forming in the pit of Bakugou's stomach since it was someone else who made you laugh. Not him. All he could do was to mess with you.
The frustration he felt reflected on his words, too. Sure, Bakugou was never nice, but over the past years you had spent with him, he had learned to be, well, not so aggressive. But as the day went by, he just kept attacking you in a way that made you feel trapped.
And even though you never noticed, the way you seemed to ignore him whenever he tried to get a reaction from you just made everything worse, causing Bakugou to get even braver with his attempts to fight.
And he was aware of it, too. Bakugou could feel his heart beating faster in his chest whenever he told you something, a fear in him that told him he just went too far this time, but nonetheless, he still didn't even get one look his way.
"Miss Y/N? Can you answer this?" You heard Aizawa calling your name, making you jump in your seat. You weren't even aware that you had zoned out. Again. "I- I'm sorry." You muttered after a few seconds, looking down at your hands and hiding your face.
A mocking laugh came from Bakugou's way, and you clenched your teeth, hoping he would just let it go with a scoff, but your hopes died when Aizawa quirked a brow.
"Bakugou? Have something to say?" He asked, and Bakugou scoffed. "How can you be so-" He started to say but stopped mid-sentence when you didn't even turn his way, playing with the pen that was in front of you, instead, as if you were telling him just your pen was more interesting then whatever he had to say.
"Whatever." He muttered, not bothering to finish the remark he was previously saying.
■■■
"I have to pull like a week of full nighters to get half of these done!" Mina groaned eyeing the books and papers that were towering on her desk, denying to fit into her bag.
"And Aizawa-sensei even talked to them to go easy on us." Ochako exclaimed nervously. Even Yaoyorozu, probably the only one that would actually be able to finish all the assignments, had bags under her eyes, either from stress or the lack of sleep.
You entered the room, only to find a bag full of canned coffee and Kirishima's wide smile, greeting you. "I kept my promise, you see." He told you as you settled on the floor across him. "And I kept mine." You answered with a tired smile. It was an unnecessary attempt to hide how tired you were at this point.
"Hey, Y/N, we were wondering if you were okay? You seem to be a little down lately and-" Ochako asked with a nervous smile, which you didn't even let her finish. Maybe it was rude what you did, but you didn't want to hear the end of that sentence.
"Oh I'm perfectly fine." You lied through your teeth. "Maybe just a little stressed, but really nothing important."
"Are you sure?" Mina quirked a brow at you, but before you could answer, everyone looked at the door when they heard a knock, and you took a deep breath of relief. Looking around you, everyone was here, and you weren't sure who it could be at the door-
"Bakugou, you showed up!" Mina cheered when she saw the grumpy blond leaning to the door.
"Tch," he scoffed, his eyes meeting yours for a second, the look in them sending shivers down your spine. "Only because you wouldn't get out of my hair if I didn't."
"It always works, though." She told him with a sly smile, causing his eyes to narrow in a threatening way. His gaze wandered around the room, eyes meeting yours for a second time that night, you noticed his hands turning into tight fists when you looked away.
It wasn't your intention to ignore him the way you did, you just didn't have the strength to fight back. You liked fighting with Bakugou, but lately, you felt like you would break if anyone so much as touched you, and Bakugou's words were -even though it was unintentional- often harder than a slap across your face.
He didn't think of it as something important, no one did, since you were the only one that could handle Bakugou and fight back. You never held your tongue, never quivered before him, never looked sad when he said something that would make anyone else break down crying.
No one ever knew, it did sadden you. Especially lately, with all the stress and pressure on you, it did make you feel like crying, but of course, you weren't going to admit to that.
So, you hid it. From everyone, from your friends, form Aizawa sensei and family. No one needed to know how everything was pressuring you in a way that the only thing you could feel was being trapped until you just... sorted things out.
"Hey, you okay?" Kirishima nudged you with his leg, waking you up from your dark thoughts. Not even aware you zoned out, your breath stuck in your chest, you gaped at him blankly for a second.
"Y-yeah." You answered with a smile, and you heard him sigh.
"Yeah, okay." He finally told you. "Just- just know you can talk to me when you don't feel good, 'kay? You know I'm always here to listen."
You did, you really did, but you just wanted to sort things out yourself, without anyone else, to prove to yourself that you were strong enough.
You nodded and reached for a can of coffee, hiding your watering eyes from him.
"Oh, since you're here!" You heard Mina shuffle some paper on her desk. "Could you help me with this math question? I've been working on it for a while now, but I just couldn't do it." She leaned your way, handing you the paper.
"Oh-" You bit your lip, feeling oddly guilty. "I'm sorry Mina, I couldn't do it either."
"Oh, that's okay, we'll just ask Bakugou, then." She shrugged thoughtlessly and turned to the blond that was watching your every move, looking awfully similar to a wolf watching his prey. His eyes narrowed when you followed your friend and got closer to him, not saying a word. The meek look in your eyes oddly disturbed him, even he wasn't sure why seeing you like this angered him, but it did. He could feel how your nervousness grew as you walked towards him, too.
"What? Too dumb to do it yourself?" He raised one brow, praying to get an annoying answer like you always did, but you just looked away, instead.
"Hey, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you that dumb that you can't even-"
"Bakugou, that's enough." Kirishima interrupted, noticing your watering eyes, how you nervously chewed on your lip, but Bakugou wasn't listening to him. He was too focused on trying to get a reaction out of you, not even aware of anything else.
"What- did I offend the princess? Is that all you can do? Just stand there all pretty, not able to even defend yourself that people around you has to?" Bakugou blurted out, words coming out of his mouth in an angry fit. The second he said them, his eyes widened, realizing he went too far this time.
Too far.
He saw how you flinched at his words, and that's when you chose to look him in the eyes. Your lashes wet with tears you were desperately trying to hold back, one or two already sliding down your cheek. Only then did he notice how tense you were, and not only then, but almost all the time these last few days.
"I-" You tried to speak, but you choked on your words, your heart beating so loudly in your chest, and in your ears, you knew you had to get away from him.
Not even bothering to excuse yourself, you left the room in a rush, leaving ten gaping people after you.
"Wh-what the fuck?" Bakugou muttered, his eyes still fixed on where you were standing seconds ago.
"Are you fucking dumb?" Kirishima exclaimed suddenly. His eyes wide with disbelief, yeah, Bakugou was mean and he did go overboard sometimes, but this was something else.
"What the fuck were you thinking?" He kept pestering his dumbfounded friend. "What were you thinking as you said all those things to her? Hah?"
"I wasn't-"
"You weren't thinking, that's the problem! What's going on with you lately? How can you lash out at her so?!" Bakugou stood quiet, the rest of the room not even daring to make a sound.
"Shut up, shitty hair." Bakugou muttered as he walked towards the door.
"Where are you going?" Ochako asked meekly, gulping loudly when Bakugou sent a glare her way and exited without even answering her question.
■■■
It wasn't hard to find you.
Maybe it was because he knew you too well, even more than he was even aware, or maybe it was because you weren't as complicated as you thought you were.
The night was chilly, the stars so bright, he was certain you were out in the garden. He spotted you on the bench, feeling his heart clenching with the sight of your face hidden in your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.
"Y/N." He called out, his voice making you jump in your seat. You sprinted to your legs immediately, wiping the tears with the back of your hand, though, not doing a good job since your face was still damp with tears.
"Bakugou- wh-what are you doing here?" You asked, taking a step back when he got closer to you. He noticed this, a dreadful feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.
"I'm here to..." Why was he here? Certainly not to apologize. No, Bakugou never apologized.
Or so you thought.
"I'm here cause I'm- sorry." He finally managed to say, almost inaudibly. "For the things I said back in there- and other times, too."
He watched as you bit your lip, a confused and hurt look in your eyes, and he wanted to kick himself for causing you to be like this. "Why-" You finally managed to say after a few seconds, "why did you say all that? Why did you-"
"I'm sorry." He repeated, and this time you didn't step back when he walked towards you. So close that you could feel his caramel scent enveloping you. "I'm really sorry."
"I was- I was being dumb, I didn't mean any of that, and I'm really, really sorry." He whispered, and before he even knew what happened, you had your arms wrapped around him. It caught him by surprise, but he instantly closed his arms around you, too, holding you so tightly, his body so warm and so safe, you found yourself crying once again.
"Shh," he whispered to your hair, his hand caressing your hair in a soothing way. "It's okay." He didn't really know what was okay, but he felt like you needed to hear those words.
And you did.
Your sobbed in his arms, your face pressed to that place in between his shoulder and neck as his hand stroking your hair. And you didn't know what it was, but after a while that felt like you were never going to stop crying, you felt your sobs dying slowly, until all that was left was your occasional sighs.
Bakugou had never seen you like this, never so vulnerable, never so open. But the soft smile on his face told you that he didnt hate it. And you didn't exactly hate it either, to finally be able to at least show a fraction of what you were feeling to anyone.
"I'm sorry." You muttered. "I got your shirt wet."
"Dumbass, why are you apologizing-" his eyes widened when he realized he insulted you again. "I didn't mean-"
"No it's okay." You giggled. "I still want to have those- whatever it is we have. Let's not change anything, I don't want you to act as if I'm fragile glass."
"Y-yeah." He answered, his chest finally feeling lighter since he saw you laugh. "Yeah, okay."
His eyes looked at your laughing face one more time. "Promise."
Even though you weren't sure why exactly he promised, you had a feeling it was to never make you cry again.
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charincharge · 4 years
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I Don’t Want To Wait, four
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rowaelin high school bff au  masterlist
The night Rowan spent snoring next to Aelin was the best night of sleep she’d ever had. After they woke in a tangle of arms and legs, sandwiched together, Aelin wrote an entire page in her journal about the amount of touching they did. She was incredibly upset that she was unconscious for most of it.
She was grateful for their all-nighter though, because in the week that followed, she’d barely seen him. He’d been at the mercy of Lacrosse practices, every morning and evening, doing drills and scrimmages until he could barely walk. She was especially annoyed because with morning practices, it cut into her special Rowan driving her to school time. Because there was no way she was waking up in time to drive him to the field in the morning.
However, today was finally the Lacrosse championship game, which meant that tonight, Aelin would get her best friend back.
She couldn’t wait.
Aelin had spent all last night making a Rowan’s Pump Up Playlist, to help him get into the zone today. He’d briefly mentioned that the cheerleaders were each assigned a varsity player to bake treats for, and Aelin refused to be outshined by some random cheerleader.
Aelin flipped through the playlist one last time. It was good. 47 songs in honor of the number on his, each one an empowering anthem or a self-assured ego boost. Plus, Aelin may have sneakily included songs that insinuated how she felt about him. She only hoped he would read between the lines.
She took her time dressing in green and gold, the school’s colors, and Aelin felt ready for game day. But she suddenly did not feel like waiting around for Rowan to come pick her up today. She wanted to see his face now.
So, in a last minute decision, Aelin rushed out to get them both coffees and headed to the small condo Rowan lived in with his Aunt Maeve. Black, no sugar or milk for Rowan. Hazelnut syrup and extra creamer for Aelin. She placed the hot beverage holder into her bike basket and took off.
Aunt Maeve was just heading out as Aelin pulled the coffees from her basket. Maeve greeted her with a large hug and a wide smile.
“You’re up early, hon,” she laughed, but Aelin smiled through her self-consciousness. She wasn’t really a morning person, but today was important to Rowan. And she wanted to be the best best friend she could be.
“Is he still out on his run?” Aelin asked, and Maeve shook her head, biting her lip conspiratorially.
“He actually didn’t run this morning.”
Aelin gasped an overexaggerated intake of air. She couldn’t fathom Rowan not running every single morning of his life. “No run?!”
Maeve laughed again. “Nope. He wanted to rest up before the big game. Poor thing looked exhausted last night. In fact, last I checked he was still sleeping.”
Aelin looked at her watch. 7:15. Most mornings Rowan was up at 5. If he was actually still asleep, Aelin would never stop mocking him for it. Plus, as she rediscovered the other morning, she really enjoyed a sleepy Rowan.
“Go ahead and wake him,” Meave said, but Aelin hadn’t waited to her approval to make her way into the condo. She made her way up the narrow stairs, coffee in each hand, and headed down the hall to the bedroom she knew so well.
Aelin fiddled with the old handle and pushed it open. The heavy door cracked open slowly, falling against Aelin’s body, so she had to slowly shove it with her hip.
One foot, one shoulder and half her face into Rowan’s bedroom, Aelin completely froze. Deer in headlights. Struck down where she stood.
Because Rowan was not asleep, as his Aunt had thought. Rowan was very much awake. Though his eyes remained closed, Aelin’s gaze fell to about halfway down the covers, where there was a lot of movement going on. She watched for a solid second, jaw unhinged, as Rowan’s hand moved up and down beneath his dark sheets, making a peaked shape with each vigorous movement.
Aelin gasped and blinked rapidly, realizing that she should exit the room immediately, but her gasp was too loud.
Rowan’s eyes flew open and landed on her, standing in his doorway, staring, and she watched as Rowan’s cheeks flooded with red.
“AELIN!” he squawked. “WHAT THE FUCK?” Flustered, she watched as Rowan grasped at his comforter, halting his movements to pull up the dark sheets to his chin, so nothing but this face was peeking out. “CLOSE THE DOOR!” Despite the volume, his voice was breathy and strangled, as if he’d just come from his run.
“Oh my gods,” Aelin mumbled, and she knew her cheeks would be redder than Rowan’s if she were to glance in a mirror. “Oh my gods,” she repeated, taking a step back and letting the door slam in her face.
Through the thick wood, she could hear Rowan groan loudly, but it was muffled by sheets. Gods. Aelin knew that Rowan was probably doing that. But to actually see it….? She thought her face might be permanently stained red with how hot she suddenly felt.
Aelin bit her lip, toeing at the beige carpet beneath her sneaker, wondering what the hell she should do now.
“I’m sorry!” she squeaked out.
“AELIN, GO DOWNSTAIRS!” Rowan bellowed loudly from behind the door, and Aelin nodded, despite him being unable to see her face. “I’ll be down… soon,” he said softer.
“Kay,” Aelin replied quickly. “You don’t have to rush, or anything. I can… uh, wait. For you to… finish.”
“Aelin, please…” Rowan sounded pained, and she wondered if it was because of his embarrassment or other things. Nope. She was not going to think about that.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Aelin repeated over and over as she stumbled her way downstairs to the small kitchen table. She slumped over the cheery yellow table and placed her head in her hands, willing her face to cool down. But every time she managed to calm herself, she’d remember the movement beneath Rowan’s sheets and become warm again.
When she heard the shower turn on overhead, Aelin placed her head in her hands and squeezed her eyes shut and willed the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She sat like that, even after she heard the heavy footfall of Rowan’s shoes coming down the stairs and tread across the kitchen floor.
She heard the sound of a chair scraping across the tile, but Aelin kept her hands over her face, unable to look at him.
Rowan sighed loudly and took a long sip of his coffee.
“Let’s talk it out,” he said, and Aelin finally peeked through her fingers. Rowan was freshly showered, hair still wet, and he was looking up at the ceiling, also unable to look at her.
“No way,” Aelin mumbled.
Rowan tugged at his hair. “Well, if we don’t I’m going to tank this championship game, and it’ll be your fault.”
Aelin groaned as he pulled her hands away from her face. Hands that were definitely just touching… elsewhere. He held her hands in his for a second on the table before pulling away.
“Fine,” Aelin conceded.
“You didn’t actually see anything, right?” he asked, and Aelin shook her head quickly. Rowan released a steady breath, a nervous smile appearing on his face.
“Great,” Rowan continued. “Then, it’s not a big deal at all, and we are totally fine and nothing is weird. I mean, it was weird that you walked in on it, but everyone does it, right?” He brought his coffee to his mouth and took a long sip, clearly needing to do something to stop his rambling.
“Uh, I’ve never but… yeah, I guess.”
Rowan stopped mid-sip and stared at her, looking as if she’d just told him the most insane fact ever. “You haven’t?”
Aelin shrugged, feeling her cheeks heat again. “I don’t think I know how?”
Rowan inhaled sharply, choking on his coffee, coughing loudly. Aelin buried her face into her hands again. Could this morning get any more awkward?
“You know, there’s definitely, uh, videos on the internet that could help with that.” He paused, his nervous smile expanding as he laughed at his best friend’s horrified face. “I could send you a few if you want.”
“Rowan Whitethorn, you are not allowed to send me porn,” Aelin hissed. Rowan burst out laughing as he poked her cheek.
“I didn’t know your face could get this red, Ace.”
“Yeah, well, we’re learning a lot about each other this morning I guess...”
Rowan snorted loudly  as Aelin grabbed her coffee and stalked toward the front door, away from his mocking. She’d walked in on him but somehow, she was the one who was too embarrassed to function today?
“You know, I stayed up all last night making you a Game Day Playlist, but if you’re going to be mean, I’m not sharing it with you,” she said, and Rowan immediately backtracked, his face lighting up with excitement as he slung his arm over her shoulders.
“You did?”
Aelin nodded, pulling out her phone to show him the playlist. “I was just about to hit share, but maybe I won’t….”
He pouted, his green eyes widening. “I promise I’ll be nice.” He paused. “But also, you should ask Lysandra to teach you. I can’t imagine functioning without doing it every morning.”
Aelin had to bite her tongue from squeaking out EVERY MORNING?! But she just didn’t want to continue having this conversation, despite how badly she wanted to ask Rowan what he thought about every morning while touching himself. There were some questions she just couldn’t ask him, despite how close they were or how curious she suddenly was.
Instead, she hopped into his jeep and sent him the playlist. He connected his phone to his car with a grin and turned up the mix.
“47 songs?” His crooked smile made her stomach flutter, and he laughed as he pressed play and cranked the volume up. “Taylor Swift?”  Rowan scoffed.  “Really?”
“She’s the greatest songwriter of our time,” Aelin replied, sticking her tongue out.
“Maybe, but this fake rap shit is not it,” he laughed, scrolling to the next song. “Ah, much better.”
The first chords of Kanye’s “Power” filled the car, and Rowan took off.
By the time the pair made it to school, their morning awkwardness had completely melted away. And Rowan was in the zone for his game.
He was immediately bombarded by his assigned cheerleader, who, as Aelin had predicted, had baked him cookies. Aelin didn’t recognize the girl – a brown-eyed brunette, who looked every bit the male fantasy in her skin baring cheerleading uniform, her hair pulled up into a curled ponytail and her face displaying the number 47 on each cheek, batting her her curled lashes at her best friend. Aelin wondered for a brief moment what kind of porn Rowan had delved into, if this girl was actually one of his fantasies, but she immediately pushed that aside.
Aelin watched as Rowan smiled, thanking the girl kindly for his baked goods. And she pretended not to notice his eyes linger slightly at the green and gold ORYNTH printed across her chest. Or the way they fell to the short hem of her skirt as she walked away, throwing him one last smile over her bared shoulder.
Aelin looked at her own game day outfit – jeans and a t-shirt, and suddenly felt self-conscious, which she hated. Aelin never felt like this before. She’d never been the type of girl who suddenly compared herself to other girls, but … other girls had never smiled at Rowan like that, either. She suddenly felt a level of possessiveness rush through her. She linked her arm through Rowan’s, who looked surprised, but didn’t object to her closeness.
“Do you want my cookies?” Rowan asked, offering the plastic covered plate to Aelin, and Aelin accepted it greedily. “I think sugar might make me ill today,” he laughed.
“You’re going to be great,” Aelin assured him, knocking her hip against him.
“I hope so,” he mumbled quietly. She knew that Rowan was nervous about the game, but she hadn’t realized how much. As one of two sophomores on the Varsity team, she assumed he’d be seeing mostly bench time, but apparently that didn’t stop his nerves from taking over.
“You’ve worked so hard this season,” Aelin told her best friend and watched as his chest puffed out, swelling with pride. “No matter what happens, you’re gonna crush it. I know.”
“Thanks,” he replied softly.
“See you on the field,” Aelin said, as he dropped her off at her first class of the day. Double period algebra, ugh.
“I’ll be the one with the big stick in my hand,” Rowan replied with a smile, and Aelin snickered loudly.
“Been there, seen that,” she laughed, and Rowan’s jaw dropped.
“You said you didn’t see anything!” he hissed, and Aelin cackled and winked, and she watched as he realized what she was doing.
“You’re trying to distract me,” he laughed.
“Is it working?” she asked, and he smirked back.
He flicked her off as he shoved his earbuds into his ears, walking away to the rhythm of one of the songs on her playlist.
~*~
If you want to listen to Rowan’s Game Day playlist, check it out HERE
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jalapeno-princess · 4 years
Text
Bad For You Chapter 1
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Fuckboy Mark Tuan X Reader
Genre: Angst, fluff (in future chapters), smut(maybe in a future chapter I’m still debating how I feel about that)
Word Count: 4.4K
Summary: Being a senior in college with less than two semesters in your entire educational career, you try your best not to get stuck in situations that will bring you any kind of stress. Unlike most of your classmates, you never searched for entertainment and fun in the college nightlife; partying, clubbing, getting drunk, high and hooking up with random strangers. You believed in working towards what will benefit you in the future. One day, your English professor gives you the opportunity of a lifetime; to pass his class without having to do anything at all. Most students would jump at his offer without hesitation. But what happens when what he’s asking of you just so happens to be the last thing you would ever find yourself wanting to do? Tutoring the same person you vowed never to get involved with? Mark Tuan was bad news and you’ve sworn to yourself that you wouldn’t interact with him under any circumstances. However, the offer is too good to refuse, but will it really be worth it in the end?
A/N: Hey guys! So this is the first chapter of my new series and I already have an idea of how I’m going to go about with this story I hope everything works out the way I want it to. I’m expecting to have about 5-6 chapters, but then again I never go through with what I plan. This first chapter is just an introduction as to how the main characters meet and so it might be kind of boring and more of a filler chapter but I’m sure the next one will be more interesting. Please enjoy!
Tick, tock, tick, tock.
The sound of a clock ticking during a very important exam that was worth more than half of your grade had to be one of the most annoying and infuriating noises in the entire world; you were sure of it. 
That damn clock on the wall mocked you—with each click, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the brink of insanity. Honestly, you wouldn’t be surprised if you were to scream out in frustration and cause every one of your classmates to turn and look at you as if you were a wild animal. You sure felt like one. 
It was as though every time the big hand moved, you’d forget one important piece of information that you studied multiple hours for in order to memorize. No matter how many all-nighters you pulled in the last week, all the notes that you took and repeatedly looked over—nothing seemed to be clicking. 
Your mind was drawing a blank and it was really upsetting you. Ever since you were a little girl, you ate, breathed and slept your education. All you ever wanted was to succeed and do well in school. 
It didn’t help that your parents put this immense pressure on you to succeed—being the youngest and only daughter out of four children led your parents in to expecting a lot more out of you than they did with your three older brothers. They were also extremely overprotective when it came to you. 
Your brothers could go out and do whatever it was that they wanted; attend all these college frat parties, go to numerous bars only to get drunk off their asses and have your parents go and pick them up, drive all around Los Angeles and even leaving your sunny state of California to travel around cities like Las Vegas, Chicago and even New York. Hell, you couldn’t even cross the street by yourself let alone do anything most people would consider fun and exciting. 
Everyone who knew of your existence considered you to be a goody two shoes; the teacher’s pet. You found fun in reading and watching documentaries about murderous affairs. Most people your age were constantly partying, getting drunk, high or both. You never understood why anyone would waste their time and money on unnecessary substances such as alcohol and drugs, but you were never one to judge. 
Every now and then, your professor would inform the class how much time everyone had left to complete the exam. To everyone’s dismay, the door was slammed open; all eyes turned towards the front of the room—curious about who just entered. As soon as your gaze landed on him, you rolled your eyes in irritation. 
“Professor Lee, I’m so sorry I’m late. I—“
“I don’t want to hear it Mr.Tuan, no excuses. You have less than twenty minutes to complete your exam. There’s no retakes, so instead of trying to get out of this one, I’d suggest you take out a pen, piece of paper and start writing.” 
The boy in question made his way towards where you were sitting and gave you a smirk before sitting right behind you. Anyone and everyone who knew Mark was well aware as to why he was tardy. His tousled hair and swollen lips gave it away; it didn’t take a genius to know exactly what he was up to. 
You couldn’t care less about what he did; you hardly even knew the guy, so whatever he would do in his free time didn’t matter to you. As you began to finish up on your last few questions, you felt a tap on your shoulder. 
“Pssst. Y/n.” 
Ignore him and he’ll leave you alone y/n. 
Every time Mark would try and get your attention, whether it was to borrow a pencil or to coerce you in to giving him the answers on one of your assignments, you’d find yourself groaning in frustration. It’s as though he got a rise out of getting under your skin. 
In the three months that you’ve had him in your English 345 class, you observed the fact that he never seemed to bother any of your other classmates except you. He had classmates sitting on either side of him, yet he never once spoke to them. 
You’ve known Mark since middle school; he was one year older than you and he lived down your road, but the two of you never really interacted with one another. You came from two different social groups; his group of friends were very well known throughout your entire campus. 
All seven members were apart of a sports team and they had to be the most attractive guys at your university. They were also notorious for being quite the players; none of them were in stable relationships. 
Mark and his friends were known to hook up with random girls whose names they’d never end up learning and none of them slept with the same person twice. That’s just who they were. 
Every Friday night, they’d throw a party at one of their apartments, one of the sorority houses or they’d rent out a hotel room. You made a pact with yourself to never get involved with any one of them. The last thing you needed was to get your heartbroken by an asshole who could give less of a shit about you. 
You refused to allow any one of his friends; Mark in particular, take advantage of your kind hearted and gentle personality. As much as you wish you could be a cold-hearted, selfish person; especially because so many people have done you wrong in the twenty-two years of your existence, you could never hurt anyone or do anyone wrong the way they would so easily do to you. It just never felt right. 
However, Mark Tuan was someone you wouldn’t care about hurting. He obviously didn’t care about anyone but himself and his atrocious group of friends; so you never allowed him to irritate you for longer than a few minutes. Luckily, he never took things further than a couple of snarky comments and throwing paper airplanes at you every now and then, but you could do without all of his childish antics. 
Sometimes, you wondered why he chose you of all people to pick on and disturb. Maybe it’s because you were one of the only people he’s known since childhood, or because everyone was well aware of your friendly and welcoming personality. You were also considered the teacher’s pet for most of your professors. 
A few of them; your biology, calculus—and even your English professor for this class had asked you to be their teacher’s assistant because they were confident they could trust in you to help them with their classes. Unfortunately, you had to decline. 
With having a full-time job and taking on five classes, there was so much on your plate already and you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to give them the support and time they needed from their assistants. You had only three questions left to answer and you were more than happy to finally finish the test. 
The word exhausted wasn’t even enough to describe just how tired you were. You worked a ten hour shift yesterday because two of your co-workers called in sick and you didn’t have the courage to tell your boss that you were tired from pulling an all-nighter the day before. 
All you wanted to do was return back to your apartment and fall asleep for the rest of the week. The constant tap on your shoulder broke you out of your thoughts and for a second, you almost forgot that you were in the middle of an exam. A groan of disbelief was at the tip of your tongue; who did he think he was coming in to class just minutes before it ended, expecting you to help him because it was painfully obvious he had no idea what he was doing. 
“Y/n, what did you get for number 5? Hey—pssst—y/n—“ 
You continued to scribble down a few more sentences on the last question; wanting nothing more than to get out of the lecture hall but Mark adamantly had other plans. 
“Come on, please? I don’t know how to answer this—“
“Mark, this is an exam. I can’t help you—“
“Just this one time. I promise. I’m already doing bad in this class. I can’t afford to fail—“
“Well that’s not my problem Mark. You need to learn how to manage your priorities better—“
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean—“ 
Right as you were about to retaliate and make a comment about his fuckboy lifestyle, a new presence joined the two of you and you felt yourself tense up at his words. 
“Mr.Tuan, Miss y/l/n, is there a problem here?” 
You shook your head in disagreement and mentally cursed the older boy for putting you in this situation. Not once in your entire educational career have you ever been called out by one of your teachers for not doing what you were supposed to and that was because you never failed to accomplish whatever it was that you were expected to do. There was no way you would let Mark Tuan out of all people get in the way of the reputation you’ve worked so hard to maintain as one of the top students at your university.
“No problem here sir, I was just asking y/n to borrow an eraser.”
Absentmindedly, your eyes rolled to the back of your head at how easily the lie fell from his lips. This happened to be the first class you had him in, but you had a huge feeling he was like this whenever there was something he desired. Whether it was school related, or a way to soothe his carnal urges, Mark would do whatever in his power to get whatever or whoever it was that he wanted. 
It was adamant that he wasn’t going to do well on this test no matter how hard he tried. He didn’t strike you as someone who studied, nor did he seem like he cared about his education in the first place. None of his friends did. College was more about the night life experience; the alcohol, constant partying, drugs, sex—school was the last of any of their worries and you believed that one day, it would all come back to bite them all in the ass. 
“Hm, is that so? Well then, please return back to your exams and if you don’t mind staying back, I’d like to talk to the both of you about something.”
If looks could kill, Mark would be six feet underground with the glare you were now sending him. The universe was not on your side at all today. Not only did the coffee shop get your order wrong, but your botany professor assigned you a group project you weren’t at all excited for and now—you were in trouble for something that wasn’t even your fault. 
To both his and your surprise, you turned around and flipped Mark off. You hated the fact that his stupidity and ignorance was causing you to do all of these spiteful actions that you have never once done to anyone else. He was just that big of a narcissistic asshole and with the way he smirked at you, it was all the more evident that he was enjoying himself. 
Mark got in trouble many times in class—or so you’ve heard people talk about. Everyone talked about him; no matter who it was, every single student on your campus knew of him. Some had nothing but envy and respect towards him and others never understood what was so good about him that the boys wanted to be him and the girls wanted to be under him. 
You were one of the latter; other than his devastatingly handsome looks and how much of an amazing volleyball player he was, Mark didn’t have anything else going for him. He was the definition of a prick; he was cocky and treated people like shit. He also had a brain the size of a peanut which came as a shock seeing as how his younger brother Joey graduated over a year ago and had his bachelor’s degree in pharmaceutical engineering.
In fact, the entire Tuan family seemingly had great heads on their shoulders. Mark’s father owned one of the highest ranking tech companies in all of California. His mom and his oldest sister were realtors. You understood that his wealth and the success of his family were the only reasons why he wasn’t expelled from school. If it were anyone else, they would have been kicked out as soon as their g.p.a dropped below 2.0 like Mark’s was rumored to be. 
“Good going dickhead.” 
He cheekily winked at you before turning his attention back to his exam. You were going to make his life a living hell for what he put you through. Less than ten minutes later, your professor let the entire class know that time was up and one by one, your classmates began exiting the room. You could feel your blood pressure and anxiety levels rising at the thought of getting detention for Mark’s unintelligent disruption. 
As soon as the last person left, you began to come up with what you were going to tell your teacher. You were willing to admit the fact that Mark was trying to cheat and get some answers from you. It wasn’t as though anything bad would happen to him anyway. 
He’d get away with trying to get you to give him answers and maybe even torment you for throwing him under the bus. Oh God, what did you get yourself in to? Your professor sat on his desk as he motioned for the two of you to walk towards him. 
A soft sigh fell from his lips and you were sure you could pass out because of how nervous you were. Even if you knew you didn’t do anything wrong, you were still freaking out about the consequences that came with helping someone on a test. 
“Y/n, I just want to start off by saying you’re not in trouble. So, there’s nothing you need to worry about. However, it has come to my attention that you are looking towards getting an internship at the state capital. You’re majoring in law right? Well, I have a proposition for you, and I know—you might not like this and I’m sorry for asking you to do me such a huge favor like this. I’m sure you’re already busy as it is, but—“ He didn’t even have to ask just yet, you already had a feeling that his favor had to do with the remarkably inadequate boy on the right of you. 
“Could you tutor Mark for me? Well, not just for me. His professors sent me emails about what they can do to help him.” 
He turned over to Mark and released a soft sigh. You felt as though you were going to throw up. Tutor Mark? Seriously? You would rather rip out your eyelashes one by one. There was no way you would do such a thing. Sure, you were willing to stay after class and help your professors grade papers or you could come up with lesson plans in order to cut down the amount of work they had to do, but there was no way in hell you were going to do anything with or for Mark. 
“I don’t like talking negatively about students. I know you’re a smart kid Mark. I acknowledge the fact that you do try; you’re such a great writer, but you don’t put your heart or mind in to anything beneficial. There’s honestly nothing else I can say or do to get you to try harder. You have so much potential, but you fail to use any of it. You could go far in life Mark, but you choose paths that will bring you nothing but destruction. Don’t get me wrong, you’re still so young and I’m sure you want to live your life to the fullest. But sometimes, you need to give up any kind of toxicity that will only bring you down. Y/n—a few other professors and I are willing to write you multiple letters of recommendation and I’m going to give you an immediate A for this class. You don’t have to worry about any other exams or assignments. Most of your time will be taken up trying to help assist Mark. I still expect you to listen in on our lectures just so you can understand and learn the course material, but you don’t have to worry about studying for any tests. I trust that you would pass all of them nonetheless. I know, I shouldn’t be asking you to help another student and please don’t feel like you have to do this. But just know that I and all your other professors would be more than grateful if you do decide to go along with my offer. I’ll give you a week to think about it. You may go now.” 
All the blood in your body immediately began to rush to your head. Everything your professor explained to you went through one ear and out the other. You were being offered to pass the class with flying colors without having to worry about completing any assignments or taking quizzes—anyone in their right minds would willingly accept his proposition. It was the easiest A you could ever receive, yet in order to access it, you would have to go against everything you’ve set your mind to. 
All the pacts you’ve made with yourself regarding Mark or any of his inconsiderate group of friends, were you really going to allow yourself to get involved with someone notorious for manipulating and taking advantage of other individuals without a care in the world? Sure, you wouldn’t have to worry about one of your classes and you’d have more time to focus on your more difficult subjects, but it would be at the cost of your morals and beliefs. 
Mark Tuan was no good—even if it was only tutoring, you had a bad feeling in your gut that he would end up hurting you one way or another. You didn’t consider yourself to be the kind of girl Mark would mess around with or find attractive in any way, but then again—it didn’t matter what the person looked like or what their personality was like. 
Everyone was just another body added to his count of poor unfortunate souls who were tricked in to finding their way in to bed with him. Once your professor excused you, you practically ran out of the building. Knowing that you were his only option, you were well aware that Mark would probably look for you and try to coerce you in to accepting the offer. If that did end up happening, you would stand your ground. 
You weren’t afraid of Mark, nor did you consider him all that intimidating like everyone on campus did. He wasn’t going to get to you that easily, no matter how hard he would put in an effort to. Your professor gave you a week to think about it and there was nothing your school’s notorious bad boy could say or do to influence you to agree in helping him. As you were right about to unlock your car door, you heard feet running in the distance. It didn’t take a genius to know just who the footsteps belonged to. Hell, you picked up your pace in order to avoid him. 
“Y/n, wait!” 
If only you could continue your cold facade; there was a voice telling you to jump in your car and leave without giving him the time of day. You would just deal with him tomorrow. But  you knew being brash wasn’t in your nature—you could never be mean to anyone. Even people like Mark who obviously deserved it. 
There was no way you’d forgive yourself for showing him hostility; you’d only be sinking to his level. You released a frustrated groan—did he not even take a second to think about how much of an inconvenience he was right now? First, he bothered you during a very important exam, then he got you involved in catching the unwanted attention of your professor and now you’re being asked to tutor him. 
Mark Tuan was the devil in human form, he had to be. There was no other plausible explanation as to why he is the conniving asshole you’ve grown accustomed to interact with in the last few months. It’s as if he had vengeance against you. Why else would he include you in his toxic way of going through school? You turned around to face him and crossed your arms in irritation. Right after he caught up to you, he placed both hands on his knees as if he was trying to catch his breath. 
“What? Did you sprint here?”
“Obviously. I had a feeling there was a chance you’d want to talk to me about the deal our professor offered me, but I don’t have the energy to listen to you talk me in to doing so—“
“Come on y/n, you act like tutoring me is the worst thing on this entire earth—“
“Because it is. Look, I have a week to think about this okay? So if I were you, I’d watch how you act towards me and how you talk to me. Whether or not you graduate next spring is all on me. I’m going to warn you right now, nothing you can say or do will have an effect on my decision. If I decide to tutor you, it’s because I want to. Oh, and don’t think it’s because I don’t want to do work or tests. If anything, I would rather complete assignments and study for exams. The option he gave me isn’t an easy way out, so I don’t want you spreading bullshit lies about me just to make me look bad. If I say no, there’s no trying to get me to say yes. Am I clear?” 
This was the first time you’ve ever seen Mark look worried in the many years that you’ve known him for. Almost everyone in his life, teachers, professors, fellow classmates, his friends and even some of his family members—they willingly gave him whatever it was that he asked for. You never understood why; why was everyone so afraid of him? He wasn’t all that muscular or buff. In fact, you’d mentally call him a limp noodle whenever he’d get on your nerves because he was quite the skinny guy. 
But he’s always been like that. Mark was like a chihuahua; he was all bark and no bite. Maybe he used his family’s power and wealth against others, or maybe he would promise financial or social gain to make others succumb to his wishes. Whatever it was—you needed him to know that it wouldn’t work on you. It was obvious that no one has ever talked to Mark the way you currently were just by the way he looked at you in shock. 
You were a force to be reckoned with. If Mark considered you to be a soft spoken, quiet pushover, then boy—did he have something coming for him. He wasn’t wrong to think like that; you were a genuinely kind-hearted soul. However, that was to those who deserved it. Mark wasn’t on that list, nor would he ever make it there. Ever.
“Fine. Just—please think about it? No funny business, I promise. I just—I want to know. Be honest with me. Why do you hate me so much? What did I ever do to cause you so much anguish and distress? Is it something I said? Did? Whatever it is, I’m sorry. Sincerely. I’m not saying that in order to win brownie points or to get on your good side, I mean it. You are the only person on this entire campus who seems to take a disliking to me and I want you to know that I’m sorry.” 
As soon as the last word of apology fell from his lips, you could feel your throat getting choked up. You wanted to believe he was trying to come up with ways to make you feel bad for him; to get you to really think about helping him out. But there was no malice in his speech—his eyes looked so sincere. If he was lying, then damn—he deserved a fucking Oscar. 
Deep down in your heart though, you knew he was being serious. Why were you now feeling bad that you were vehemently treating him like the scum under your toes? Obviously, you weren’t going to grovel at his feet the way most of the girls at your university did—but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be civil with him. 
Mark hasn’t cared about his attendance or grade in this class since the beginning of the semester—so it really boggled your mind as to why he was trying to be involved in his education right now. That wasn’t your business to have knowledge of. You and Mark weren’t friends. You’d probably never ever be friends, so the reasoning for his sudden interest in putting his focus towards his education wasn’t your problem to deal with. 
You brought your vision to the ground; your converse seemed like the most interesting thing in the world at the moment. There was no way you could look at him, you were sure you’d give him your answer if you were to look at him and see how distraught he was from your hostility. You opened the back seat of your car and threw in your bag and your books before making your way to the front seat. 
Thankfully, Mark had a conscience and moved out of the way. He probably didn’t want to get even more so on your nerves and you appreciated his new timid nature. 
Mark Tuan had finally met his match. 
Once you pulled out of the stall, you rolled down your window and took in a deep breath—not sure if you were making the right decision as the words fell off your tongue; but it didn’t matter anymore. 
“Meet me tomorrow in the library at three. Don’t be late or you can forget about having me as a tutor. Oh, and I don’t hate you. But don’t think so highly of yourself, I don’t think all that highly of you either.” 
The soft smile that was now beaming on his face pulled on your heartstrings and soon you felt a warm sensation in your chest—wait. What? Oh God—no. No, no, no. What have you done? 
You just sold your soul to the devil.
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themandilorian · 3 years
Note
For one word prompt, could you please do Memory with R? 🥺
Literally anything for you my dear. Congrats on finishing all your exams!
***
Prompt: memory
Grantaire finishes taping up the last box and stacks it on top of the other box waiting by the door. The apartment is all shiny, empty of all furniture. Anything somewhat salvageable was donated to Goodwill and the rest got collected by the city for a frankly outrageous fee last week. No wonder people prefer to just dump their stuff onto the sidewalk instead of going to the city’s recycling center.
This should be the easy part now, picking up two boxes and walking out, but he finds himself hesitating. He’s spent his last four years in this studio apartment overlooking the river. It is spotless now, but that is only because Feuilly fixed the hole in the drywall put in by Bahorel when he absently mused (completely sober) about how thin Grantaire’s wall was that one night. Jehan also came by earlier today to take the windowsill herbs they planted as Grantaire’s housewarming present. The basil and rosemary pots somehow grew to include tomatoes and daisies that he has no knowledge of ever planting.
Grantaire allows himself a minute of nostalgia. Every one of his friends has treated this space like their own. He remembers snuggling with Eponine, comparing notes on unrequited love and jumping for joy when she came barrelling in about her promotion at a prestigious nonprofit, only six months after she started. His kitchen counter is well-worn with use, three a.m. impromptu chocolate chip pancakes and grilled cheese with Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta, squeezing all four of them into the tiny space before huddling back together on the pull-out couch.
Even the corner by the window where his desk once sat was usually commandeered by the insufferable force that was Enjolras, Combeferre, and Courfeyrac. They would congregate there, bouncing ideas over one another until Bossuet sprayed water on them and demanded they start a movie/ board game/ Mario Kart or whatever it was they were all there to do.
It’s been three years since the day they all graduated. Joly and Combeferre are still in medical school, but half of them have pretty much scattered all over the world by now. Even Grantaire can’t resist the tide of change for long. This apartment has done all it could for him. Every nook and cranny loved and known. The bed had sheltered him when the world was too much to bear. The familiar ray of sunlight kissed his still-life assignments perfectly and he has never drawn a more beautiful apple before or since that one morning he crammed to get it done before a deadline.
Sighing, Grantaire sits down on the floor. Just because you know you have made the right decision doesn’t mean it isn’t hard to follow through. Maybe he will be back in this city one day, the city that built him and allowed him to grow comfortable into his own skin. He came here as a hopeless teenager, ready to scorn the world and now, he isn’t an optimist, not really, but he is a realist who can focus on what he can do without letting the weight of the world crush him.
Maybe he will be back in this city one day, but probably not in this apartment. A new, bright-eyed kid will take over, hoping to make their mark with all the conviction in the world.
“R? Do you need help?” a familiar voice he knows better than his own rings out from the hallway. Grantaire smiles despite himself.
“Nah, just reminiscing a little bit. I’ve lived here a long time and it feels weird to leave now. A lot of good memories here,” he says, turning around to look at Enjolras, all crumpled and damp from carrying boxes down to the moving van and cleaning all day. His hair frizzes all over his face like a lion mane and Grantaire can’t resist leaning on him, just a little.
“Yes, I remember finding you passed out right here in the doorway because you pulled two all-nighters during finals and your neighbor called Joly thinking you were dead.” Enjolras obligingly joins him on the floor and puts his arm around his waist.
“Don’t be rude, that resulted in our first kiss,” he says, elbowing his boyfriend lightly.
Enjolras laughs, unrepentant. “Only because you were so out of it you lost all your filters. I was a perfect gentleman by the way. You were offering a lot more than a kiss.”
“Oh fuck off! Fine, let’s get out of this damn apartment. I’ll start over with a new name and backstory.”
Enjolras only holds him tighter, putting his chin on Grantaire’s head and pressing a gentle kiss on his temple.
“I know it’s scary. This is where it all began, right in this city, and we have people we love more than life here. But we’ll make new memories. Our first bed, our first house, our first dance. We’ll always carry our past with us, but I’m looking forward to our future together too.”
It is so very Enjolras, full of faith, not in the name of a distant, faceless god, but in the future. In the strength of their love. In Grantaire. He hums, looking up at Enjolras and nods. He’ll follow Enjolras everywhere, but this time, they are moving for Grantaire’s gallery offer, and Enjolras is just tenacious enough to score a job offer in the same city too.
“Are you ready?” Enjolras says, getting up and extending a hand to him.
He presses his hand into Enjolras’ waiting palm and finds that the truth in his answer grounds him.
“Yeah. Yes, I am.”
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lideria · 4 years
Text
Give Me a Few. | Johnny
Request: hi hi can you write smtg with johnny? like anything hhhh im soft for the man
Author’s Note: I miss school. Yes, that might be a crime but hear me out: this quarantine’s got me missing school and having crises over assignments and quizzes and tests, which is crazy to me. So, this shall be a college fic.
Warnings: A few swear words and a little anxiety. English is my second language so there might be errors + my brain is pushing a writer’s block on me but I won’t let it so there might be some complications with the flow loves I’m sorry.
Word Count: 1.752 IT’S SHORT.
Genre: Fluff, Angst if you like squint really hard, college!au, platonicfriends!au
Hope everyone who reads it enjoys!! 💚Have a lovely time, and good night for me lol
“The fuck?”
Johnny’s head bolts up at the frustrated question. He sees you hunched over the printed papers with your mechanical pencil in your hand and your phone in the other, scrunched eyebrows looking at the white surface scribbled all over with equations and formulas. The desk has eraser dust all over it, all from the past few hours of tussling with questions he thought must simply be too difficult. “That doesn’t make any sense, you sure that’s right?”
He can hear the faint “Dude yes, I used the calculator.” of your friend on the other end of the line, and sees your hand spring up to your temple, rubbing the spot as you let out a sigh. Shortly after, though, the mechanical pen comes back in contact with the paper. “Okay okay. Just guide me through that one more time please.”
Your friend cleans their throat so clearly Johnny can hear it, and with that he returns to his own share of notes. He is much more relaxed than you are since he has left his fair share of difficult examinations behind, and although he has a lot more memorizing to do still, it is whatever. Just two more to go.
It takes a few minutes for your friend to go over everything they had just told you, with you writing the formulas and equations down step by step, circling the ones you deemed important. You thank your friend for helping before hanging up.
Which is when the mechanical pencil is thrown out of your hand and onto the desk. “I’m gonna fail this final so bad,” You whine out. “Why make the course mandatory if half the faculty doesn’t even get it?” Leaned back on the chair, you rub your eyes with your fists. There is nothing more you want other than being done with the finals already and to never have to be acquainted with this course ever again— but you also have to pass it in order for that to become true.
“Should I just help?” Johnny suggests, his own studies long forgotten at that point. Not that he had been doing a particularly good job at focusing on them.
He sees you hunch back over the desk, looking at him with your hands tiredly placed on your cheeks. “Hasn’t it been like.. 2 semesters since you’ve taken this? Plus, you have a test tomorrow.”
Johnny clicks his tongue. “It’s history anyway— I couldn’t care less, it’s easy. Multiple choice.” Shutting his notebook close (which still amazes you how he can take notes by hand of a class like history where it is dominantly lecture material that matters), he stands up and instead takes a seat on the chair beside yours. “I’d rather struggle with formulas than read about every revolution there ever was.”
“Easy to say when you ace tests without studying for them.” You mumble, which makes Johnny smile. He could not protest that because it was true. He was a good listener during class, which helped him tons with assignments, which in turn helped him not forget the class material. The only type of courses that truly got to him were the ones where most things are dependent on discussions, arguments or debates where he needed to improvise. Not because he is bad at any of them, just because he is the type to take problems more subjectively rather than objectively.
Johnny tells you to take a breather for a few minutes while he tries to get what is going on in the question. You see this as an opportunity to take a few sips from your sugary drink that is supposed to get you through this night’s study session that is sure to become an all nighter considering you still have a couple of pages to work out. Then you check your phone, scrolling through your social media for a little, until Johnny’s hand lightly lands on your forearm. “I think I figured it out.”
“You did?” The question sounds more hopeful than it should have. “Mhm,” His eyes land on your phone momentarily before he continues speaking. “Let’s have dinner first, though.”
For you to agree he almost has to literally drag you outside of the study room the two of you had occupied, but he manages to bring you out by wrapping his arms around your shoulders and waddling his way out until the door closes and locks behind you. The two of you then make your way to the cafeteria just because you could not be bothered with making any food or asking for delivery.
While you eat, Johnny tells you he is almost sure you could not get the question because your brain was fried rather than being unable to do it. Although not knowing if it is true or not you are thankful that he says it, because it gives you a motivational boost.
Both because you are hungry and because you really need all the studying you can get, you hurry up eating— barely even tasting the food before you leave to get back to the study room.
When you are back both of you immediately go back to your seats, putting your phones on flight mode before abandoning them at the far end of the desk. Johnny takes your mechanical pencil and eraser, erasing your jotted answer before starting to re-read and rephrase the question for you. He writes down the answer step by step, making sure you truly understand everything and stopping when you need to get your head wrapped on some things.
And when he erases his writings so you can write the answer down, he gives you encouraging pats on your shoulder, letting his hand rest there as a reminder that he is there if you need to ask something.
At some point he places his chin on your shoulder as well to watch you. Not you writing your answer down, but you. “You’re being annoying right now.” You mumble, to which he chuckles slightly. “Am I?”
“You are,” Confirming the statement, you tap down at the desk. “Just look. I got the right answer this time.”
He does. The smile that spreads across his face soon after he does so makes you proud. “See, I told you it was only your overworked brain.”
With a roll of your eyes you thank him, before turning back to the many practice questions that awaited you. The questions start coming as a breeze for the first couple of hours as you gather help from your textbooks with your freshened mind. Johnny starts to play one of his many playlists with chill songs on it, reaching out for his phone to do it before also reaching out for his notebook and highlighters, returning to history out of the sheer fact that it would make him feel better if he studied while you were.
The music in the background provides a nice ambiance in the room, much more lighthearted and relaxed than how it has been for the whole study session so far. Johnny and you take turns leaving the room to walk around, partly to get some exercise and partly to delay the point where you would get sleepy.
The night seems to go by faster after you start studying for the second time. And surely after some time, you had to start leaving the study room not for short walks, but to wash your face in order to stay awake.
Letters slowly start to form a gibberish language in your mind, numbers becoming a jumble of weird lines and strokes. What really breaks all that you have left of wakefulness, though, is when Johnny starts softly humming to the songs on his never-ending playlist.
His voice is deep and strains when he is using such a low tone to hum to the songs, but it is still quite the attention catcher. You cannot help but start listening to him, and you certainly cannot help your hand that trails off of the practice questions. Within a few songs’ time, your eyes get droopy and your world gets droopy, too. But you honestly try to fight off the sleep.
Yet, sleep is much stronger than whatever is keeping you awake.
“I think I’m gonna take a nap,” The announcement comes as a surprise even to you, but you reach out for your bag and drag it until it is in front of you on the desk. “What’re you doing?”  Johnny throws a soft yet questioning look at you even though it must be obvious what you are doing. “I’m gonna use it as a pillow.”
“Just lay your head on my arm,” He says as if it is nothing, and shrugs a little when you look at him with your own pair of questioning eyes. “My cardigan’s thick and soft enough to be comfortable for both you and me.”
You smile at him, and pull your bag full of books and binders aside. Reaching out for his left arm, you hold his hand lightly— even though he is fully capable of lifting his forearm to place it in front of you— and drag his arm to the space previously occupied by your bag. He returns to his notes, unbothered, and gets back to humming along to the songs.
When you place your head on his forearm you smile at the scent of his cardigan, the scent of the coffee he had had before you started studying still embedded into the fabric.
You shut your eyes that do not have the motivation to fight off the sweet invitation of sleep. And if anybody ever asked you, you would say you fell asleep before Johnny finished the line he was humming to.
And if anybody ever asked you, it was the one of the best (and deepest) sleeps you had; your face engulfed in him and his cardigan’s warmth, your arms closed around his forearm, hunched over the desk in a position that is surely going to ache your back— until there is a scratch at the top of your head and through your hair. “Hm?”
“An hour’s passed.” He whispers, his hand still in your hair. You draw his arm closer to you, nuzzling your face into the fabric. You were not the one with a test tomorrow, and you were surely not the one with a test tomorrow that you could ace with your eyes closed. “Gimme 15 minutes.”
You hear him laugh. “Okay, big baby.”
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satorilovebot · 5 years
Note
Hiya! I saw another tumblr shout you out and I thought I’d come check out your account :) I was wondering if I could have a Tsukishima trying to help his procrastinator girlfriend study but in the end he ends up being the distracted one, one-shot? Tysm xx
Hello, thank you so much for sending a request.Honestly I also have problem with procrastinating! Being lazy is my passion /nah. ANYWAY, I hope this is not sucked.
bad habit. [ tsukishima kei x reader ]
pairing : tsukishima kei x fem!reader
word count : 1,404
warnings : none
Tumblr media
His eyebrows twitch in irritation, “you what?” He merely asks, yet your whole body shivers from how stern his voice sounded. Tsukishima has always been intimidating, to say at least. But when he is upset, you just want to crawl under your bed and vanish rather than standing in front of him, under his knives-sharp gaze.
“My math homework is not done … ?” you squeaked, looking anywhere but him. Your fingers play with the hem of your blue sweater anxiously.
“And the English homework too, also I doubt that you even touched your literature assignment.” He heaved a sigh, long, frustrated one and run his hand on his blond hair. He knew you are a procrastinator. The way you often pull up all-nighter right before exam, or even subtle things like every excuses you give him when you are being ‘too lazy to move’. “At this point you are not procrastinating anymore; you are jeopardizing your own future.”
You gasps, pretend to be shocked. But he knew better. It is a bad habit of yours, and he knows that you knew. Yet it irritates him how you seem unbothered by your procrastinating habit. Tsukishima understand that everyone has one or two bad habits. He has it too. He sometimes thinks that you didn’t see procrastinating as a bad habit, or rather, too lazy to put an effort on fixing it.
“It’s fine! Everything is due next week anyway. I’ll finish somehow, like always,” you give him a small pout, and a puppy eyes. You expect him to soften up a little, cause, hey, who can deny a request from cute, and adorable little girlfriend right? Apparently Tsukishima Kei was not amused by your answer, neither your cute act.
“Tomorrow is Sunday. By next week, you mean the day after tomorrow.”
You let out a frustrated growl, pulling your hair desperately, “It’s not like it has anything to do with you! I don’t mind having a bad grade, I never liked study anyway.”
He clicked his tongue, flicking your forehead rather hard and making you whimper in pain. “WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” you said furiously as a hand went to your forehead, rubbing the now redden skin.
“Don’t you realize that every time you pull all-nighter you would texts me, and call me ‘Tsukki please don’t sleep yet, I’m not done with my assignment.’; or the next day you being so grumpy and cried on my shoulder, regretting why did you do all those task in one night rather than doing it little by little every day?” he took a step closer and you instinctively take a step back “and you call that has nothing to do with me? Your procrastinating habit and me? Me, y/n. Your beloved boyfriend.”
Suddenly you hug him, burying your face onto his chest and nuzzling there. Tsukishima’s eyes widen in surprise, he tried to push you gently because he started to feel his face getting warm. He is embarrassed. Not because this is the first time you hug him, but the current circumstances. You both were in the middle of busy street in shopping district and he is not a fan of PDA. Yes, you were just in a date with Tsukishima when your tongue slip and told him that you haven’t work on all your assignments.
“y/n let go, we are in public.” He said lowly, readjusting his glasses to try hiding his flushed cheeks and avoiding people’s stares.
Your hug only tightens around his torso, and the male could only let a soft sigh, “Fine, I’ll help, now please let go.”
“You do?” you look up, eyes as innocent as ever. Tsukishima’s heart skips a beat, if this was in private and you don’t have problem with your assignments, he might just kiss you right now. But no, he let a huff and simply nods.
“Yes. So let’s go home. Now,” there’s no room for discussion in his tone, yet you try to push your luck.
“But, it’s been awhile since I went on date with you! Aren’t we going to see giraffe?” your boyfriend raised an eyebrow at your whine, tucking away his hands inside his pockets.
“Maybe when you are being more responsible,” he starts walking, and you make a displeased face as your attempt to seduce your boyfriend failed once again. “Wait for me, Tsukki!”
*
So now there you are. Sitting across the coffee table, in your living room. Books scattered on the table, and Tsukishima sit cross-legged, reading a light novel he found in your room earlier. The reason why he choose living room is because there is no bed. He knew that you and bed are the worst combination ever. According to Tsukishima, you probably would be sleeping as soon as you touch it, so bed is off limit.
“Tsukki, I’m half-way through my English, why don’t we take a break and, say, I have popsicles!” you poke his arm with a pencil. He didn’t bother to look at you as he speak, “That means you’ve only done 16% from our goals, and you already asking for a break? Pathetic.”
Your veins popped out from your forehead, angry. But hey, this is Tsukishima. His mouth is nasty as always. “Then you are more pathetic cause you date this pathetic!” you stick out your tongue, mocking him. You are Tsukishima’s girlfriend; you sometimes are just as annoying as him. Before he could stop you, you’re already on your feet and making a beeline toward the kitchen.
Tsukishima frowns, putting down his book as he chase after you, “Y/n!” gosh, it is tiring to keep up with you sometimes. Why can’t you be as persistent as this when it comes to your responsibility? “Y/n, no rewards before you finish one of the assignments!”
He stood behind you, crossing his arms on his chest. Displeased with your childish action. “And what you gonna do about it? Punish me?” You tease, pulling out a grape popsicle from your freezer. Just when you are done with the wrapper, and about to put that refreshing ice in your mouth, Tsukishima takes it from your hand and give it a bite instead. “Hey! That’s the last grape flavor!”
“And what you gonna do about it? Punish me?” he sneered, giving you his smug face and keep biting the popsicle. Knowing full well that grape is your favorite flavor and this, with no doubt, will annoy you. Hopefully annoyed enough to get you back doing your homework, “I’ll buy you another one when you are done with English.”
Guess what? It worked, it does annoy you. But sadly, his bribe wasn’t enough. It makes you want to tease him instead. “No, I’ll take what’s mine.”
He is a second late to proceed what’s happening. Your hands were grabbing his collar, pulling him down to you just so you can place your lips onto his. His eyes are wide open, and about to protest when you licked his lower lip. Your warm lips against his cold one, Tsukishima couldn’t help but melt into the kiss. As his body relaxed, he put his arm on your waist. Pulling you closer. At first you only planned to give him a quick peck, but now as his lips moving against yours, the kiss get heated. The taste of his lips was like your favorite grape popsicle, and you can’t help but let out a soft mewl as he bite on your lower lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth.
“Tsukki… home… work,” you managed to whisper against his lips, once he broke the kiss to catch a quick breath.
“…nah,” and then his lips meet yours again. The kiss was more desperate, laced with hunger and lust. Tsukishima doesn’t care anymore about your assignments. He also doesn’t care how he unconsciously dropping the popsicle, let the ice melts on the floor. All he cared is how your body pressed against him, your lips that connected together. The heat he felt creeping on his cheeks, and below his navel. All he could hear is your soft whimper, all he could taste is your sweet lips, and all he could think is you, writhe beneath him some time later.
Maybe procrastinating is your bad habit and you didn’t want to fix it.
But maybe, you are Tsukishima Kei’s bad habit. Cause when he is with you, he doesn’t care about anything but you. And he doesn’t know how to fix it.
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harrywritingsbyme · 4 years
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hiii can you write a smutty piece about y/n going to an ivy league/ prestigious university and harry is feeling neglected and needy due to her being so busy with school and it somehow ends up in rough sex in their home office AND bed ty :)
Reacquainted
A/N: 3.2k words of filth. Um...the ending is bad like usual. Enjoy 🙃
You worked your ass off in high school just to go to a fancy school to work you ass off even more. All you did these days was school work. It was like once you finished one thing, something else popped up. You could never seem to catch a break. You were so caught up in trying to get caught up that you completely neglected Harry. Either you woke up before him so you could get to your early morning class, or you were up late at night doing an assignment. Either way, Harry was getting the shorter end of the stick. There have been many occasions where you just wanted to skip your class and just stay in bed with Harry. You were just dying to have some lazy morning sex, and some late night just because sex. But unfortunately, the only things you were getting up close and personal with these days were your textbooks and laptop.
You already knew how bad you were going through it, you could only imagine what Harry was going through. There were times when he’d wrap his arms around you extra tight in the morning so you wouldn’t leave. He would try to get you to stay in bed with him but as much as you wanted to, you came too far to screw everything up and let everything fall apart. You tried your best to keep in mind that you only had one semester left, but sometimes it was harder than ever to stay focused. One morning last week is the perfect example of this. You’d gotten up to leave for your class and as you were on your way to school, you realized that you’d forgotten your laptop at home. So, you turned around and went back home to grab it. You walk upstairs to you and Harry’s bedroom to get it and as you get closer and closer, you hear a string of echoed moans leaving the bathroom. You decided to take a peek inside and when you did, you began to rethink your plan to go to class. When you opened the door, you saw through the foggy glass, Harry slumped against the shower wall with his hand wrapped around his cock. In that moment you so badly wanted to take all of your clothes off and get in the shower with him. But, as much as you wanted Harry to take care of the problem between your legs you just quietly left out of the bathroom and you carried on with your original plan. So instead of releasing all of the built up sexual frustration right then and there, you went through the rest of the day thinking about all of the things you wanted Harry to do to you. After that, you couldn’t stop thinking about Harry and how bad you needed him. You couldn’t get the visual of him stroking his cock out of your head, or the way he moaned out your name when he did. Your need for Harry just kept growing.
For the next week, you and Harry went along with your normal routines, you being drowned in schoolwork, and the both of you almost dying for an ounce of physical contact. Which brings you to tonight. You were in the office putting the finishing touches on your paper when Harry walks in.
“So I know that this may be a crazy question, but are you coming to bed tonight?” Harry questions, walking further into the room.
“I will have you know that I just finished my paper and I am currently sending it to my professor as we speak”
“It’s only 9:30 though.” Harry’s says suspiciously. Usually you’d have to pull an all nighter and write, because for some reason you couldn’t seem to get your words the way you wanted them until a few hours before the deadline. Harry knew of this pattern very well because a lot of the time he’d stay up to keep you company while you wrote your papers. He’d sit in one of the comfortable chairs in the office while you typed away at the computer.
“I know! For some reason the words just flowed out of me and I didn’t scrap everything over and over again.” You were just as shocked as Harry, you couldn��t believe that you’d written a passable paper in a reasonable timeframe.
“Well that’s good, now we can have the rest of the night to ourselves.” He rounds the desk and he reaches out to pull you up from the chair. “We need to have some Harry and Y/n time.”
“We definitely could use some of that.” You sigh. He turns you around and he lifts you so that you’re sitting on top of the desk before he sits in the chair. He slides closer to the desk so that he’s sitting between your spread legs that were hanging beside him. “I’m sorry I haven’t given you much attention lately. I’ve had so much on my plate lately and I can’t seem to catch a break.”
“Don’t worry about it baby. I know that school is important and you need to focus.” he sends you a small smile and grabs your hands in his.
“And that’s why I feel bad! You being so supportive makes me feel horrible for not focusing a little more on you. And don’t even get me started on the sex. Or should I say the lack of sex!” You pout down at him before bringing his hands up to your lips.
“Don’t beat yourself up about it” he chuckles before standing up in front of you. “But, if you want to make it up to me, you could always let me fuck you right here on this desk. Y’know, reacquaint you with m’cock and all.” He pulls his hands off of yours and you can feel them sliding up your thighs and you can feel the floodgates between your legs open up. When you felt his hands grip onto your thighs, all you could think about was how badly you needed him to slam his cock inside of you.
“Please, I need you so bad.” You beg before moving your hands to the drawstrings of his sweats.
“Tell me what y’want.” Harry pulls you closer to the edge of the desk and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer to you.
“I need you inside of me.” you whimper out to him. You lean up to connect your lips onto his and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Without saying another word Harry nudges you to lay back against the desk and he unwraps your legs from around his waist. He tugs your sweats along with your panties down your legs and he does the same with his. He grips his cock in his hand and he gives the shaft a tug before lining up with your entrance. “Y’ready?” He looks up to you. You frantically nod your head yes, practically begging him to push inside of you. He places a hand on your hip and he begins to push into you.
“Oh my goodness” you both moan out. It was like the two of you forgot how good it felt. As soon as Harry pushed into you, you immediately remembered how good it felt to have him inside of you. The sting that came along with him stretching your walls and the feeling of being full with his cock made you want to just burst. You had no idea how you guys went so long without having sex.
“Nice and tight f’me.” Harry groans. He couldn’t explain how much he missed having you wrapped around him. Feeling you for the first time after a period of not fucking felt so different. You were so tight around him that it made him feel the same way he did when he first pushed into you. He then begins to move his hips, pushing his cock in and out of you over and over again. As the pace of his hips begins to get faster and you can hear the sound of your skin slapping against his.
“Fuck, Harry you feel so good.” You gasp loudly as he continues to slam into you.
“Y’like when I pound into yeh like this?” He growls back. You could feel him slamming into the deepest part of you over and over again, constantly hitting that soft and sensitive spot inside of you.
“Oh my- m’gonna cum.” You thrash your head back and forth against the desk and you grab onto anything you could. You plant a tight grip onto the edge of the desk and you can feel the pace of Harry’s hips speeding up even more. You can hear his breaths become deeper and his moans were starting to turn into growls. You could sense that he was about to cum too. Normally the two of you would last longer, but neither of you could help yourselves. Plus if you two came fast this time, it’d give you guys reason for a second round.
“I want you to cum w’me” he growls down at you. He removes one of his hands that was tightly wrapped around your hip and he brings it up to his mouth. He pushes two of them past his lips to wet them and he brings them down to your clit. He then begins to quickly circle his fingers around your sensitive clit and you you can feel your release catching up to you. “C’mon baby, cum ‘round daddy’s cock” he pants. Just when he can feel you tightening up around him, he begins to give your clit small slaps. He can see your back arching off of the hard surface and he gives you one final thrust and the both of you completely let go. Harry’s eyes immediately snap shut and he releases all of his cum deep inside of you. He can feel your walls contracting around his cock, squeezing him as tight as possible, almost as if you were milking his cock, and he opens his eyes to find your head tilted back and your mouth hung open as you came down from your release. Seeing you in a completely fucked out state was a sight that he never wanted to forget. He takes the hand that was on your clit and he brings it up to your throat. He softly curls his fingers around your neck and you instantly relax in his grip. He then hears you let out a soft moan, which causes his cock to twitch inside of you. He brings his face down to yours and he presses a soft kiss to the area right below your chin. “Did so good f’me sweet girl.” He mumbles into your skin. He pulls away slightly to find you looking up with glassy eyes. He comes up to eye level with you and he presses his lips against yours. You begin to move your mouth against his, allowing his tongue to glide into your mouth.
As you’re kissing him, one of your hands glides up and down his arm, every once in a while squeezing at his bicep. You continue to do this until you slide your hand all of the way down to where Harry had his hand around your neck. You place your hand on top of his and you give him a light squeeze, signaling him to tighten his grip on you. He catches on to what you want him to do and he tightens his grip on you, pressing the palm of his hand into the column of your throat. You let out a strained whimper into his mouth and he pushes his tongue further into your mouth. You then raise your hips, meanwhile Harry’s cock is still inside of you. So when you lift your hips, you move his cock inside of you, causing you both to moan against each other.
“Please.” you beg into Harry’s mouth. He pulls away completely from your face and towers over you while keeping his hand fastened around your neck.
“Want daddy t’fuck yeh again?” he coos, slowly pushing his hips all of the way against yours, which in turn pushes his cock all the inside of you.
“Mhm” you manage to get out. He removes the hand from your neck and he places both hands on your hips, pulling you up off of the desk. You wrap your legs around his waist, tightening up your walls to keep his cock inside of you. Harry kicks his sweats off from around his ankles and he carries you both upstairs to your bedroom. When he gets you both upstairs he drops you right onto the bed and he climbs on top you. He swiftly rips your shirt along with his own and he tosses them somewhere in the room. Then he pushes you higher up onto the bed and he pushes your legs apart. When he does this, he sees his cum flowing out of your entrance.
“Look so pretty with m’cum drippin’ out of yeh.” he marvels at your center. He takes his fingers and he smears the sticky substance all over your pussy. He pushes two of them inside and you can feel them curl inside of you, like he was scooping something out of you. And he did. When Harry pulled his fingers out of you, they were covered in the mixture of yours and his cum. As soon as you see the milky substance on his fingers your mouth begins to water and you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out a little for him to push his fingers in your mouth. He slide the two fingers against your tongue and you wrap your lips around them, suckling on them like you would his cock. You take them all of the way in until you can feel his knuckles resting against your lips. Harry goes to ups his fingers out of your mouth, but you wrap your hands around his wrist. You continue to suck on his fingers, making sure to get every last drop of cum off of them. You then feel Harry press the tips of his fingers into the back of your tongue causing you to gag around them. “So filthy.” he admires and a smirk comes across his face. You loosen your grip on his wrist and he pulls his fingers from your mouth. He then takes the two fingers and gives your cheek a few light, yet firm taps. “Tell daddy what y’want babygirl.”
“I need you to fuck me.” you whine, reaching out to grab his cock. Without any warning Harry lines his cock back up with your entrance and he pushes his thick cock back inside of you. “Fuck yes” you gasp.
“Y’want me to wrap my hands around this pretty neck of yours?” Harry suggests, sliding his hands up your chest. He squeezes your breasts in his large hands and he moves one of his hands up to your neck. You quickly nod up at him and he chuckles at your eagerness.
Before tightening his grip on you, he asks you one last question. “How do you want it?” He asks.
“Hard.”
At this, you can see the lust in his eyes and he tightens his grip on you like he did not too long ago, and he crashes his hips into yours. The only sound you made, or could even make was a whimper. He continues to slam his hips into yours as hard as he possibly could. Harry wanted to show you just how hard he could give it to you. As he continues to slam into you, his free hand moves from your breast to one of your thighs. He pushes your legs farther apart, wanting to go as far as he possibly could inside of you. You couldn’t describe the way you were feeling at that moment. It was something about Harry having complete control over you that was like a drug. From him controlling your breathing, to the way he was giving you pleasure the way he wanted to was something you couldn’t get enough of. Harry continues to slam into you, keeping his eyes trained on where his cock moved in and out of you.
Then out of the blue, Harry pulls out of you and flips you onto your front. He lifts up your hips and he presses down on your upper body. He lifts himself to his knees behind you and he pushes back into you.
“Fuck me” Harry loudly groans, slamming his hips into your ass. He holds your hips steady as he pounds into you. He keeps his eyes trained on your ass, becoming entranced with the way it jiggle with every thrust. He could feel the knot in his stomach tighten with every thrust he made. He didn’t know how much longer he could last before he came inside of you again.
On top of that, the sounds that were flowing through Harry’s ears were the filthiest yet most satisfying sounds he’d ever heard. Hearing you whimper and moan in pleasure from him pounding into you was like music to his ears, it was a sound he always wanted to hear. He would do whatever he needed to do in order to hear you moan the way you were. Not to mention the sopping sound coming from your pussy every time he slams into you. Those two sounds put together created something that put him right on the verge of cumming again. He looks up, to see your head pressed into the pillows while clawing at the sheets around you.
“M’gonna cum again” Harry groans, still pushing his cock into you.
“Please” you practically cry out to him. He lets go of your hips and he gives your ass a few hard slaps before he thrusts into you one final time.
“Cum for me baby” Harry pants as he releases his second load into you.
“Oh my god” you whimper, feeling your second release crash down onto you. It was without a doubt, the most powerful of the two. It took every last shred of energy you had out of you. It made your whole body go completely limp. Once Harry catches his breath, he slowly pulls out of you, causing all of his cum to drip out of you and onto the sheets. As much as he wanted to clean you both up, he was completely worn out and he just wanted to cuddle up in bed next to you. He falls against the mattress next to your completely exhausted body and he turns out the light before pulling the covers over you both. He pulls you into his arms and presses a kiss to your forehead. He notices you were already gone, completely knocked out. He decides to do the same, and as soon as he closes his eyes he’s gone.
That night, you and Harry spent more time in the bedroom doing something besides sleeping than either of you would have thought just a week ago. And neither of you would have it any other way.
Masterlist
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lov3nerdstuff · 5 years
Text
Wicked Game {Part 4}
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~Professor Hiddleston AU~
*Tom Hiddleston x reader*
Part: 4/?
Words: 4k
Warnings: Professor x student (college AU), some language
Summary: After transferring to a new university for the last year of your master's, you meet Professor Hiddleston and soon find yourself unable to stay away from him.
A.N.: I really suck at summaries, I'm so sorry 😅 this is a slow burn romance with lots of pining 💗 you guys will probably kill me at the end of this haha please let me know what you think!
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] ...
All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!
_____________________________
"What?" Sky asked, stepping in front of you so you'd look at her. "What did he do?"
"He used my first name. He's never done that before…" You were still frowning, drowning in your thoughts while your stomach seemed to host a rodeo.
"That happens sometimes!" Sky chuckled and pulled you towards the cafeteria. "Professors are also just humans."
"Yeah, you're right." You sighed. "I'm sorry…"
"Oh shush! You've got nothing to be sorry about. I mean you just saved the man's ass!" Sky laughed. "And I'm sure his ass is fine as…"
"Sky!" You protested, looking at her with the certainty that this conversation would be over now.
"Alright alright…" She shrugged. "I just think that the two of you are… kinda cute. I mean for two people as intellectually brilliant as you are, you're also fucking oblivious."
"YOU haven't even had a date, leave alone a crush, in how long?" You shot right back, ignoring her previous comment. "I don't think you're the most knowledgeable person in terms of… that stuff."
"Touche…" She grinned. "Alright, we can change the topic if you want."
"Thank you!" You groaned and together you entered the crowded cafeteria. For the next hour you chatted about everything and nothing, enjoying the (for once quite tasty) lunch. When Sky left for her next class, you yawned and stretched, then headed to your usual spot in the library to get some work done before the night class. For a few hours you kept your nose in the books, until you overheard the conversation of two girls at a table close to yours.
"Have you noticed how he was all happy and enthusiastic today?" One asked, keeping her voice low.
"Yes! Professor Hiddleston used to be like that all the time before the start of this semester. Then he got all gloomy and sad and it didn't suit him at all. He looks so much better when he smiles!" Both girls giggled.
"I bet he would look even better without his glasses, maybe a new haircut and different clothes…"
"Or no clothes at all!" Again, they giggled hysterically. "I'm sure he's absolutely amazing in bed!"
The way they talked about him made your blood boil and when they kept up this gross behavior for another five minutes (increasingly unbearable in the comments' intimacy), you finally had enough.
"If you brainless toads want to keep objectifying innocent staff, please do it elsewhere. Or not at all!" You turned around in an instant and snapped at them.
They frowned at you, making faces. "Are you his mom or something!?"
"No, I'm a respectful human being with a sense of decency!" You replied and glared at them angrily until (finally) they felt awkward enough to leave the library.
"Brainless toads?" You heard a snicker from behind one of the shelves, and a moment later the man the voice belonged to stepped out of the aisle with a huge stack of books in his arms. He had brown curly hair and was just a little shorter than Hiddleston.
"Yeah, not one of my best inventions." You laughed lightly. "Sorry if I was too loud."
"Wasn't really possible to not listen to you. But good to know that at least one person in the building has a… sense of decency, as you put it." He smiled at you until the tower of books in his arms started swaying dangerously.
"Uhm, can I help you with those?" You offered with a chuckle.
"That would be absolutely wonderful, thank you. My office is right around the corner. So if you could just…" He set the tower of books down on your table and picked up the top half (which still looked heavy as heck), leaving the other half for you. Very quickly you stuffed your belongings into your backpack and rose to your feet, picking up the books.
Slowly you waddled after the man, out of the library and down a few hallways, thinking that his definition of 'right around the corner' differed immensely from yours.
Finally he stopped at an office, unlocked the door and walked in. As you followed, you read the name on the door.
"You are Professor Cumberbatch?" You asked once you had set the books down on the only empty surface you could find (being the top of his coffee maker).
He turned around to you with an amused frown. "What's wrong with that?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so surprised." You said apologetically. "Nothing wrong with that. I've only ever heard other students talking about you and your classes."
"Then I hope you've only heard good things! Everything else would've been the truth, unfortunately..." He grinned and held out a hand to you. "Who do I have the pleasure with?"
"I'm Y/n L/n. Soon to graduate in cultural studies and literature." You smiled and shook his hand.
"Oh, then you must be one of Tom's students!" He said cheerfully. "I mean Professor Hiddleston, of course…"
You couldn't help but feel amused by him. He was nice and funny, just what you needed after those rude girls.
"Did you comment on the brainless toads because you're friends with Professor Hiddleston?" You asked with a small smirk.
"You caught me." He held his hands up in defeat and laughed. "As a professor I'm in no place to tell them that they're brainless toads, though."
"But you'd want to?"
"Yes! Of course! I hate it when those creepy female students talk about my friend like that." He sighed and sat down behind his desk.
"Very understandable." You said, making your way back to the door.
"Thank you for your help, Miss L/n." He smiled.
"You're very welcome, for both the books and the toads." You chuckled and waved goodbye as you stepped back into the hallway. While you made your way to your class, you couldn't help but feel happy that Hiddleston had such a nice friend. He really deserved it.
During your class, you thought about Sky, who should be having her date soon. Buying her lunch had cost you your last cash, but that was fine as you didn't need any until tomorrow. You'd just head home after class and eat at your apartment and… That's when you remembered. Panic crashed onto you like a wave on the shore, making your heart beat painfully fast and your thoughts race. You couldn't go home tonight, you had promised your roommate to stay gone. And if you were honest with yourself, you were scared of the strange men that would stay at your apartment tonight, of the things they could (and would) do.
"Miss L/n?" Your professor addressed you and you could hear her heels clicking on the ground.
"I'm sorry, I… was distracted for a moment." You apologized, willing your heart to slow down by breathing very deeply and slowly.
The class continued on for another fifteen minutes, but you could only think of your current situation. Maybe you could just stay here on campus, they had bathrooms and heating and you could always study late, then take a nap and study more until the next morning. Yes, that's what you would do, pulling an all-nighter in the library.
When class was over, you collected your assignment sheet from your professor and hurried to get out of the room. If you wanted to do this, you needed to keep busy.
So, like every other week, you finished your assignment shortly before ten at night. But unlike every other week, you didn't hurry to catch your train and instead let out a long breath. All your required work (and also every extra credit that was offered) you had finished and thus you needed something new to do. The library was deserted, you couldn't see a single person around, but occasionally you heard someone coughing far off in the distance. So you walked through the aisles and picked out a book to study with, worked through the interesting sections, put it back and picked out a new book to repeat the process.
However at shortly before midnight, you felt a tap on your shoulder. Letting out a surprised yelp, you turned around to see a man with a broom in front of you.
"Sorry Miss, but we actually have been closed for half an hour already. Did no one ask you to leave?" He asked with a frown.
"No, I didn't know there was a closing time. Sorry." You said as you started to gather your belongings. "I'm still kinda new here."
"Don't worry about it. We open at seven, tomorrow morning. But for now you'll have to leave." He said, probably as friendly as he could.
With an uneasy feeling and the uncertainty of where to head next, you picked up your backpack and made for the exit. Maybe you could lay down in one of the classrooms! With new hope you quickly made your way back to the main building, only to find the doors locked and the lights in the hallways turned off. Only behind very few windows there was still light, but they were too high up. In that moment, standing in the cold night without a jacket (how could anyone be so stupid and forget to wear one!), no way to get home and without a place to go, you wanted nothing more than to cry.
_______________
Tom finished grading the essays from his creative writing class at roughly around midnight. He didn't feel tired and so he had decided to stay at his office, listening to music and getting work done. After the events of the day, he felt like someone had drugged his coffee or maybe he's just had too much of it. First the talk with you before class… he couldn't remember a time when he had felt more relieved. Both, to hear that you and him were on good terms with each other, and then the little arrangement with the notes. The notebook you had given him felt like the most precious treasure, a piece of your brilliant thoughts put into words only for him to delve in. Oh, he couldn't wait to read what you had to say. He hadn't yet had the time, nor the necessary solitude to take a look, but he was planning on doing that tomorrow before the one afternoon class he had (it was the only class for that day and only creative writing, which of course he took seriously, but it meant a lot of sitting and reading and writing).
When he had emailed everyone in that class his feedback for their assignments, it was only fifteen minutes until one o'clock. He should probably head home and get some rest, now that he could actually look forward to every new day, for it meant a new chance to see you. A loud thunder made him jump, but it also motivated him to try to get to his car before the rain would start. So he grabbed his bag, knocking over that darn cup of pens once again. However this time, he decided that he would deal with the pens tomorrow and thus locked his office to leave.
When he reached the building's entrance, he could already hear and see the rain accompanying the storm that was raging outside. "Oh great…" He groaned to himself. At least he had a jacket in his car, that meant he would only have to run one way through the rain. When he unlocked the door and let himself out, the sound of the rain grew substantially louder. Fortunately, the roof above him was wide enough to grant some dry space before the inevitable wetness that awaited him. As he stood there, waiting for the rain to decrease at least a little, he heard a quiet sob just to his right. It was barely even there and mixed with the sound of the rain. He wondered if he had even heard correctly. But when he peaked around the corner of the building, he saw a person sitting on the ground, all curled together into a ball.
For a moment he simply stood there, unsure what to say or do. Maybe he should call the security? Or just leave and forget about it? However he wasn't one to look away when people needed help.
"Are you alright?" He asked quietly, staying at a safe distance for now.
The ball on the ground went very still, then he heard a faint voice. "Please, just go away…"
His heart seemed to freeze over for a second, then it shattered into a million pieces. "...Y/n?" He asked in no more than a whisper.
You lifted your head from your arms and looked at Tom with red eyes. "I'm okay, it's fine, I'm just… waiting."
"You're waiting?" Tom asked incredulously, suppressing the overwhelming urge to hug you and hold you very tightly until you would feel better. "Waiting for what?"
"The library. It should open soon, I'm fine, it's…" You rambled on and quickly rose to your feet, standing an arm's length away from him. You didn't even seem to notice how badly you were shaking, and Tom seriously started to worry his brains out.
"How long have you been sitting here?" He interrupted you, looking at you up and down to check if you're fine otherwise.
"Well, uhm, I was kicked out of the library at midnight and then I walked around to keep warm, but the coffee shop was closed and the only open-all-night place I could find wouldn't let me stay without buying something, so I kinda ended up just sitting here and waiting for the library to open back up at seven." You finished and failed in your attempt to smile. "Really, don't worry about me."
"It's freaking one o'clock at night and you're sitting here without a jacket, without anything… Why on earth aren't you at home?" He asked a little too forcefully, but he just couldn't help himself. His mind was as torn as it could be, between the thing he should do and the thing he wanted to do. It pained him beyond measure to see you standing there, crying and slowly freezing into oblivion.
Yet, the look you gave him made him regret this outburst immediately.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh." He said and ran a hand through his hair. Honestly, he had no idea what to do.
"It's okay, you don't need to apologise. This is my own fault and my own problem. I wouldn't want to drag you into this, professor…"
"Please stop calling me that." He sighed. "At least for now."
"Sorry…" You looked down at your feet and hugged yourself to keep from shaking.
"Can… can I drive you home?" He tried, taking a step closer to you. You didn't move away, that was a good sign, at least he hadn't completely overstepped his boundaries.
"I can't go home. It's kinda complicated." You sighed. "Just go and let me wait here till morning…"
"No, I won't." That was the first statement he was completely and utterly certain about. "Can't you go to a friend? What about Miss Monroe?"
Again, you shook your head and looked dangerously close to crying once again and honestly, he wanted to cry too. If there is no right thing to do, only many things wrong for different reasons… what is one to do? But he needed to do something now or his heart would burst even more and his mind would forever haunt him with the inevitable 'what if..?'.
"Stay right here, okay?" He simply said, waiting for you to nodd. "I'm going to be right back."
Then he set his bag down again the wall, took a deep breath and raced towards his car through the rain.
He had made his mind up and he knew that it was the right thing to do. The pace of the raindrops hitting him increased and the wind picked up, changing its direction so that it came shooting right at his face. Quickly he got an umbrella and his jacket out of the backseat, then hurried back towards the entrance. You had moved to the front of the building as the rain was now horizontally whipping against the wall where you had previously been standing. As he came closer, he could see that you had even taken his bag with you, which was now securely resting at your side.
He dropped the umbrella once he was back under the roof and took his bag and your backpack from you.
"Here…" He said as gently as he could and placed his winter jacket around your shoulders. "I can't have you freezing to death."
You didn't look at him, but spoke a quiet thank you and pulled the jacket tighter around your frame. That was enough to make Tom smile ever so slightly, at least he could make sure that you would not get any colder.
"I'm sorry for the trouble." You finally said and looked back up at him. "You're once again being very kind and I'm once again only causing problems."
He didn't know how to reply to that. Not because Tom thought that you were causing problems, but because he didn't know how he could convince you that it was his desperate wish to do even more without actually crossing more lines than he already had.
"You're not causing me problems!" He said finally. "I… just don't understand why you can't go home or somewhere safe, at least…"
You smiled at him sadly. "I wouldn't want to bother you with that, professor…"
Oh how he hated that title right now, especially when you said it like that. He wasn't your superior, or even remotely smarter than you… rather on the contrary. But he also had to see the truth, that his means to help you were very limited. Giving you his jacket was just scratching at a line he couldn't dare to cross.
So he didn't inquire any further about your reasons for more or less willingly freezing yourself and instead tried to find a solution for the problem.
"Are you sure you're going to be fine?" He asked, trying to keep his eyes away from yours. He was standing too close to you anyway and if he would only see one more tear, he was sure his barriers would break.
"Yes. I can't thank you enough for letting me borrow your jacket…" You replied sincerely. "I'm gonna be okay out here until the library opens."
He sighed and looked at his phone. 1:30… that was still more than five hours of waiting out in the cold.
If doing the right thing meant letting you stand out here alone, then he just wouldn't be able to do it.
"Come with me." He finally said and picked up his bag, fishing his keys out of a side pocket. He unlocked the door and held it open for you to follow, which to his great surprise you did without hesitation. However he couldn't bring himself to talk much as he lead the way back to his office, now that he had so much to do to make his own mind shut up. This was definitely considered as crossing a line, a glowing, red, bold line.
When he unlocked the door to his office, he remembered the pens on the floor and quickly kicked some of them out of the way as he entered the room.
"You can stay here in my office tonight…" He turned to look at you. "Would that be alright?"
You looked at him with wide eyes, hugging his jacket closer to your body. "That would be absolutely amazing."
Tom was sure that you could hear his erratic heartbeat as he walked past you towards a cupboard in the far right corner of the room. After a quick search through the drawers he finally found what he was looking for: a black fluffy blanket that he always kept in his office for the (unfortunately not so rare) cases when he stayed here instead of heading home. Slowly he walked back towards you, afraid that one step too far would finally make you run. But you stayed standing on the spot, with your eyes fixed on his and he had to remind himself to stay at an acceptable distance. So he held the blanket out to you with a small smile. "Here… Try to warm up, maybe sleep a little. You should be fine on the couch."
Nodding, you took the blanket out of his hand and slowly walked over to the couch. "Thank you. Really, thank you so much." You breathed as you turned around to him again, sitting down on the soft leather.
Tom only nodded, averting his eyes to any place but you. He needed to leave, now, despite everything within him screaming to stay with you. But this was a good point to go, a good place to keep you safe for the night.
"Uhm, Miss L/n…" He started, feeling absolutely awkward.
"I'm wearing your jacket and hugging your blanket, I think you can call me Y/n…" You interrupted him with a nervous laugh that made his heart swell.
"Yeah, uh, if you… if you're good, I'm gonna head home. It's getting quite cold in those wet clothes…" He said as he stood in the middle of the room, crossing his arms in front of his chest. If he was usually a quite confident person, now he was an absolute mess, both on the outside and the inside.
"Oh, of course!" You jumped back to your feet and took off his jacket. With quick steps you walked towards him and hesitated for a moment, before you stood on your tiptoes and placed the jacket around his shoulders with a smile.
Oh why only did you have to do this to him… Tom stared at you in awe for a moment, his lips parted and eyes wide. If it wasn't for the sudden loud rumble of the thunderstorm, he probably would've stared at you until morning. But the thunder made him jump and he took a few steps backwards immediately, knocking off a pile of books in the process.
"Miss L/n… Y/n…" He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. "I'm afraid my brain doesn't respond that well to a lack of sleep. I'm sorry if my behavior was a bit… peculiar."
He watched you as you sauntered back towards the couch, dropping down with a quiet sigh.
"You have done absolutely nothing wrong, Mr. Hiddleston. All is good as before." You smiled at him encouragingly. "I'm gonna be okay, it's warm and dry and I'm very thankful for that. You should go home…"
He nodded a little too quickly and grabbed the keys out of his pocket, only detaching the ones for his apartment and the entrance door down in the hall so he could get out. Then he placed the rest on the desk. "There you go, now you can lock the door if you want to, or unlocked other rooms or… something. Oh, and you should keep the lights turned off if you don't want the security coming up here at four in the morning."
"Thanks…" You smiled once again. "Goodnight, Professor."
"Goodnight." He replied quietly and turned on his heel, practically running out of the office. On the way to his car, he repeatedly asked himself why it was falling for an angel that would send him right to hell.
_______________
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thoscheitrashdhawan · 5 years
Text
Unfriendly Rivalry - Tom Holland x Reader (Enemies To Lovers AU)
Words: 2,400
Summary: You and Tom don’t get along, but you find yourself enjoying the constant trading of insults. When you’re forced to work together on a project, neither of you are happy about it. At least, not at first... A/N: I’m officially an idiot. I posted this a few weeks ago for @mcuspidey‘s writing challenge, and I just accidentally DELETED IT. So here I am, posting it again. 
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You were his enemy. If anyone asked you, then you would say he was your arch enemy - but you always did have a flair for the dramatic. Whenever you saw him, the two of you would exchange glares, and, when appropriate, snarky comments. Insults would be thrown across the room, but, even though you hated each other, neither of you would take them to heart. Why should you? Neither of you wanted the other to think they’d gotten under their skin. 
It was childish, really, but that didn’t bother you, no matter how many times people told you. All that mattered was what you were going to say to him next, and you spent a lot of time thinking about it, trying to come up with destructive one liners to use the next time you saw him. And, despite constantly telling yourself that you hated him, you found yourself looking forward to the next time you’d see him, looking forward to the next argument and witty exchange.
“What do you want?” You snapped, feeling someone tapping you on the shoulder.
“Oh, sorry, are you busy?” A female voice responded, and you quickly turned around and started to apologise.
“I’m so sorry, Nat, I thought you were-”
“Tom? I know. But, fortunately for all of us, he’s away this week.” You gave her a weak smile and nodded, trying to be happy that your rival wouldn’t be here, but feeling a slight twinge of disappointment. 
“Right… So, what’s up?”
As your conversation continued, your mind wandered, and your thoughts centered themselves around Tom again, wondering why he had the week off, and already thinking about how you could use his time off as the butt of a joke. 
The rest of the day went by slowly, since there was no one there for you to talk to, and verbally spar with. It turned out that your job was a lot less exciting without him around, but you decided that it must simply be a bad day. There was no way that you missed him; after all, all he did was annoy you.
A week later, you saw him walking into your building, and you couldn’t stop a small smile from making its way onto your face, though you tried to hide it before he noticed. His eyes landed on yours, and a smirk graced his features. Too late.
“Happy to see me?” He asked, sauntering over to you.
“Only because it means you’re back here, and not having fun on vacation anymore.”
“Oh, it was anything but fun, trust me. I was off sick.”
“Sure you were. “ You turned back to your computer, and let a smirk make its way onto your lips. “You know, my sister is still friends with you on Facebook.”
“Shit.” He mumbled under his breath, knowing that he’d posted pictures of himself and his friends partying.
It was hard to stop yourself from grinning - it felt good to know that you’d won this little debate.
To his relief, it was at that moment that your boss decided to call everyone’s attention to her. After a lengthy meeting, she explained that everyone was going to have to work in pairs for this assignment, and started calling out names.
“Brie and Tessa…” The two women shared a pleased glance, “Robert and Chris…” Quite a few people looked to Robert, as there was an abnormal amount of people with the name Chris at your workplace, “...Evans. And Tom, I’m putting you with…” You were looking around at the room full of people, trying to figure out who hadn’t been paired up yet when you heard your own name being called. 
 “Oh, fuck.” You mumbled under your breath, before looking over at Tom to see him grinning at you with a self-satisfied look in his eyes.
After the meeting, Tom collapsed into the chair next to you.
“Hey there, partner. Looks like we’re going to be working in close quarters for the next few weeks - think you can handle it?”
You rolled your eyes and stayed silent, reading the handout that explained what project you were meant to be doing. 
“Shit, she wants this done by the end of the week?” He mumbled, reading over your shoulder. Hearing his words, you quickly skipped to the bottom of the page, and saw the deadline too, cursing under your breath. “Looks like we’re going to have to pull some all-nighters if we want to get this done on time.”
“Agreed.” There was a pause where you considered what to say next - you knew you’d have to spend time with him outside of work hours, and you tried to pretend that it didn’t excite you, just a little bit. “We should get started as soon as possible. I have some other work to finish off, but you can come round mine tonight, and we can get started.” As the words left your mouth, you realised what you’d just said. You’d invited him over. Alone. “If you want, I mean, you don’t have to.”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll see you at 6?”
“Don’t be late.” You nodded, and he went back over to his workstation, leaving you to think about what would happen.
When you’d finally finished all of your work, you ran home, got changed, picked a few things up off the floor, and before you knew it, the doorbell was ringing. 
“Hey.” He said, walking into your apartment the second you opened the door.
“You brought pizza?” You asked, gesturing to the large box in his hands.
“No, I brought an empty box for us to stare at. Thought it would be fun.” He responded sarcastically, making you roll your eyes as you grabbed the box and put it on the table.
“Everything we need is on the table.” 
“Great, then let’s get started.”
The two of you worked in silence for a few hours, nibbling on the pizza, until Tom leaned back in his chair and yawned. 
“Is it just me, or is this really boring?” He suddenly said, after a minute of watching you as you worked.
“It’s not what I wanted to be doing this evening, but it’s work. We have to get it over with.” 
“What did you want to be doing?” 
“I’d probably be watching tv and eating ice cream.” You shrugged, wondering why he was suddenly taking an interest in your life.
“Let’s do that instead, then.” He saw your look of uncertainty, and shot you his most dazzling smile. “Come on, we deserve a break; we’ll come back to this afterwards.”
Just as you opened your mouth to agree, your phone chimed, saying you’d got a text. 
Hope you’re having fun with Tom. But not TOO much fun ;))
You laughed a little, and sent back a thumbs up emoji before turning off your phone and placing it face down on the table.
“What was that?” He asked curiously, trying (and failing) to read over your shoulder before you put the phone down.
“It’s just Nat trying to be funny.” You explained, and he nodded, before the two of you returned to your work, sighing at the large amount of paper on the table in front of you.
Each day, he came over after work, and you got closer - closer to finishing the project, and closer to him. The two of you still exchanged witty remarks, of course, but there was less fire behind them now, and you’d even occasionally find yourself laughing at some of the things he said.
By the time Friday had crawled around, you were making a bit more of an effort, changing out of your work clothes into something you thought made you look good. When Tom arrived, he handed you a bag of food and went to sit at the table, getting used to this routine. But he did do a small double take when he looked at you, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 
“You look lovely today.”
“What, you saying I look horrible every other day?” You asked, pretending to be offended. 
“No, I-” He started, before suddenly realising you were joking. “Yeah, it’s horrifying, really.” 
You pouted before pulling the boxes of food out of the bag and putting them out on the table between the stacks of paper. After a deep sigh, you looked over Tom with a small smile, and started to work, knowing how close the two of you were to finishing.
A few hours later, you dramatically pushed your chair back and stood up with your arms in the air. 
“We’ve finished. Finally.” 
He grinned at you happily, before his face fell.
“Well, that means I don’t need to be here anymore. I guess you’re happy to see me going, huh?” He asked, but it was more of a statement, and neither of you looked very happy about it.
“You don’t need to leave yet.” You blurted out, before you’d properly thought through what you were going to say. “The first night, you wanted to watch tv and eat ice cream.” You suddenly remembered, smiling. “Well, let’s do it now. We have the time.”
There was a small amount of hesitation, but Tom found himself nodding. 
“Yeah, okay. Let’s do it, to celebrate finally finishing this project.”
Grinning, you threw him the remote, telling him to find a film to watch, and you ran to the freezer to find ice cream. You knew that you had some in there somewhere, because after he’d suggested it, you’d went out and bought some more, just in case he ever mentioned it again. 
As you wandered over to the sofa, you plucked two spoons from the counter and dropped one into his lap as you passed him. Of course, the ice cream was one big tub, which meant that you’d have to sit right next to him in order to share it - but secretly, neither of you minded - in fact, you preferred it.
The film he picked out was mostly boring, but you used the time to think things over - your work, the project, and him. A week ago, you wouldn’t have thought that the two of you would be here, on your couch, sharing a tub of ice cream and sitting so close that your bodies were touching. 
At some point, he put his arm on the back of the couch, and you couldn’t help but think that if he’d moved it down slightly, it would’ve been around you. 
Later on, you caught him staring. Except it wasn’t really a stare, more of a… gaze. And when your eyes met his, neither of you could pull yourselves away. The film was long forgotten as the two of you stayed there, gazing at each other, before he suddenly cleared his throat and dragged himself away. 
“So, I should get going. It’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you up.”
“Oh, it’s okay, I don’t mi-”
“It’s getting late.” He repeated, using that lame reason as an excuse for his sudden disappearance, because even he couldn’t understand his feelings right now, and he didn’t want to involve you.
And with that, he was gone. 
On Monday, you went back into work, and everything felt the same as always. You were doing the same job, having the same conversations, drinking the same coffee… until you saw Tom come in. You were a little nervous because of the abrupt way that he’d left on Friday night, but you tried to push that feeling aside. And, although you didn’t know it, he’d been having the same struggle - trying to come to terms with whatever feelings he was having, and he decided that the best way was to forget that anything had ever happened. To forget that whole week he’d spent with you, and let yourselves return to your normal dynamic.
A little while later, he came over to your desk, and dropped a pile of paper in front of you.
“Looks like the boss was pleased with my work.” 
“Your work?” You repeated, not believing what he was saying.
“Well, your table was helpful to lean on, but other than that, you didn’t contribute anything.”
...The only problem with Tom’s plan of returning things to normal was that he couldn’t quite remember what normal was. He wanted to cause a little fight with you, so the two of you could trade insults as always, and he’d be reassured that nothing had changed. That he hadn’t come to see you as a friend… and maybe a little more. But, alas, he’d gone too far, and instead of being playful, he’d just been plain rude.
“I can’t believe you just said that! I did more than my fair share, and you know it!” You exclaimed, your voice rising as you threw your hands in the air. As you felt yourself getting angrier, you decided that the best thing to do was to leave the room to cool off, but he simply followed you. “You know what, Tom? I was actually enjoying myself a little bit this week. I was starting to think that maybe you’re not so bad, and it actually felt weird not seeing you over the weekend, because I’d gotten so used to seeing you every day. But whenever I start to miss you, I remember what an asshole you are, and the feeling fades.” Although you weren’t entirely aware of it, your voice had been getting louder as you spoke, until you had completely shouted the last line.
“Look, I-” he started, intending to explain himself, but instead he took a step back and ran a hand through his hair as he thought, an irritated expression on his face. “I just…” He let out an irritated groan and started pacing in front of you. “No, fuck this. Fuck it.” He suddenly said, and you watched as he suddenly came closer to you, his hands roughly holding the sides of your face as you shared a passionate kiss. He took a few steps forward and you stumbled back until you felt the wall behind you, somehow managing to not break the kiss. But, eventually, you had to pull away, and you looked up at him, both of you breathing heavily.
“God, I hate you.” You mumbled, and he grinned back at you.
“I know.”
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ladybugsfanfics · 5 years
Text
Shut Up And Kiss Me [3/?] | Tom Hiddleston x reader
Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x reader
Style: Part Three of ?
WC: 2864
Warning: cursing, drunkness, some talk about not sleeping enough (sleep deprivation)
Summary: You and Professor Hiddleston have been colleagues for many years now, and through those years the hatred for each other has only grown. Now, as a new school year starts, you’re being told that you have to share a classroom or a class. Neither are happy about the outcome, but knowing you’ll never come to an agreement, you let the class choose for you. Team-teaching is rare in 2019, but it is a lot harder to do when you can’t stand the person you’re doing it with.
A/N: aaa, can’t believe I actually managed to wait a week, but it was worth it because, uuh, before I edited the part i wasnt too happy with it but now I am really proud so like, yeah, also there’s a myth mentioned in this. Said myth is called  Thor the Transvesite and i recommend reading it because it is hilarious and one of my fave norse myths. enjoy ^_^
If you want to be tagged, please send an ask or a DM ^_^
Previous | Series Masterlist | Part Four
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You lean back in your chair, hands warmed by a cup of hot chocolate that tastes of heaven as you sip it. 
Across the room, Hiddleston is approached by Alisha Grant. The head of HR owes you a favor and now you get to see her do the little thing you’d asked of her the night before.The English Literature professor frowns at her words, pulls back in confusion and purses his lips with what you can only read as anxiousness. His feet start tapping against the floor and he pushes his glasses up his nose with his pointer finger.
Dr. Grant smiles at him, turns and leaves, walking towards you. She stops in front of the table you occupy. “Happy?” she asks.
You nod with a beaming smile. “Of course. Now he’s anxious and the rest of part one will be easy.” 
She shakes her head and rolls her eyes. “I put you two in the same classroom so you’d become more capable of behaving in each other’s presence, yet here you are, making me do something that helps with the exact opposite.” 
“And you love me for it,” you say and sip your hot chocolate with a smug smile. “You find our rivalry as cute as Benedict. God, I was at his place on Friday to talk to him about this research thing I’m doing and he couldn’t talk about anything but our feud.”
“Oh, because you can.” Alisha rolls her eyes again. “Anyways, I’ve done as you asked and now you’ll have to excuse me, I have a lunch to attend.”
“Sure, don’t eat with me. I’m not all alone and bored to death,” you say sarcastically. 
Alisha shakes her head, though with an amused smile tugging at her lips. “You’ll have to ask someone else then. Bye.” She gives a little wave and walks away, still shaking her head. 
As she leaves, a rather angry professor marches up to you. Hiddleston’s brows are knitted together and his eyes stare daggers at you. You only smile innocently at him, fully enjoying the moment. 
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, his accent more pronounced with the anger in his voice. 
You shrug. “Honestly, I’m not sure. Just out here bullshitting my way through life.” You sip your hot chocolate, smiling smugly behind the mug.
“No, you had something to do with Dr. Grant approaching me.” He sits down in the chair across from yours. “What did you tell her?”
“Nothing,” you say, which, in all honesty, is the truth. “We’re friends, okay? I’m sorry she isn’t yours. Jealousy isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but remember to tone it down a little maybe?.”
The neck in his veins bulges out, blue shading the fair color of his skin, and threatening to explode. You purse your lips, though the lower trembles a little and tears starts to form in your eyes. Suppressing a laugh is harder than you thought. 
“Oh, shut up,” he says and stands. “Don’t believe I don’t know what you’re doing.” 
Watching him madly stalk away makes its way to the top ten things everyone should experience in life. You have never seen something as beautiful (to be honest, his little ass isn’t that bad). 
 ---
“You’re an idiot, do you know that?” Hiddleston hisses at you. 
“Excuse me?” You stare at him. “I’m the idiot? Have you met yourself?” 
He clenches his fists, opens his mouth, and decides against it. Hiddleston takes a glance up at the thirty students writing away at their computers and chatting with each other. You scoff. If you knew all it would take for him to shut up was to have students in the room, you’d have proposed this idea to Dean McHallan years ago. 
The professor takes a step closer to you, close enough for you to hear his heartbeat and feel his breath mix with yours. “I’m not sure exactly what you have as a brain, but I can assure you, it is no bigger than a nut,” he says, venom laced in his voice. 
“And I can assure you, it still contains more information than the bloated one you have.” 
 ---
The papers spread out on your office floor make less sense now than they did when you first put them down. Instead of being a fun research project as you hoped, it gives you a massive headache. Nevertheless, you had gotten some very nice ideas for classes. 
Your sophomore class had taken a liking to the idea of researching norse mythology in a new way. Reading some of the myths had turned into a great laughing session and been turned into an assignment to study as relics and reports, a great way to learn how to assess a source. 
And for the creative writing class on Thursday―you have yet to propose this to Hiddleston―you have an idea to use allusions to pepper in nuance to a story. 
But for the moment, as your mind is blank and a pikachu and a bulbasaur pops up, you’re pretty sure the last two all nighters weren’t a good idea. Or maybe you’re playing Pokemon Go with your mind (who knows?). 
You startle to a knock on your office door. “Come in,” you say and try to shake away the two pokemon in front of you as you regain your balance. It only works halfway and the person who opens the door steps on them as he comes inside. Actually, it might be that shot or two (shh, it wasn’t more) of vodka you took to brainstorm that does this. 
“Why aren’t you going home?” Benedict sighs and gives you a worried look. 
You shrug. “Beats me. I really should,” you say and nod aggressively, with a grimace saying ‘you’re-right’. 
Benedict tilts his head. “Are you drunk?” he asks and takes a step further into the room. 
“Noooo,” you say and hop down from your desk. You land on the mess of papers, mixing up their positions. “I would never.” You furiously shake your head no and then slowly go over to nodding. “Actually, now that I think about it. I might be?” 
“Okay, come here. I’m driving you home.” He holds out a hand for you to take. 
You accept it and smile at him. “You’re such a good friend.” Your nose scrunches as you coo at him and smile wider, showing teeth. 
He nods with a smile. “I know I am. You have your things?” 
You let go of his hand and turn around to find your backpack. “Ready,” you say, only to go and get your jacket. You stop mid track and your eyes widen. “Oh, oh, oh.” You scramble to your desk and find a pen and paper, and write down the idea that popped into your head. 
“Y/N,” says Benedict, his voice soft, “we should leave.” 
You wave at him. “Uno momento,” you say in broken Spanish and finish the sentence. You squeal at the amazing idea and scramble for your coat, putting the note in the pocket. “Ready!”
Benedict shakes his head, though he smiles and follows you out. He locks your office for you and takes your car keys. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow, too, don’t worry about it.”
“I won’t,” you say and hug him from the side. “You’re the best. Not like Tom. He’s the worst.”
You hear the physics professor sigh, but he doesn’t comment on it as you slowly begin to talk about the English Lit professor. He doesn’t mention it as you talk about the man’s personality, nor does he mention it when the words, “he has no business being that hot,” slips out and you let out a heavy sigh. 
 ---
You groan as you get into the passenger seat of Benedict’s car. “You have no idea how much my head hurts,” you say and stare at him through a pair of sunglasses. 
“Then you shouldn’t drink and work.” He rolls his eyes, but you notice the smile playing on his lips. “What made you believe that was a good idea?”
“Uhh, I believe it was the all-nighters. After all, when you came into the room I saw pokemon.” You groan at the hazy memory. “Fuck, that’s usually not even a consquence of alcohol.” 
Benedict takes a turn out of your neighborhood. “No, but it is a symptom of sleep deprivation. You should take better care of yourself.” He casts a quick glance your way with a worried smile, and then puts his attention back on the road. “What more do you remember?”
You shrug. “Uhh, you helping me. Getting my things.” You scrunch your face to rack your brain for the hazy moments of last night, but not much more comes to mind. “Did I do something stupid?”
A chuckle comes from Benedict. “Be glad I was the one to find you,” he says. “You didn’t do anything stupid until after, though. But I remember you having some bright idea? Care to indulge?”
“Bright idea?” you ask. 
“Yeah, you were about to get your jacket when you had some realization and wrote something down.”
“Oh,” you say. You check your jacket pockets, and true enough, there’s a post-it note inside it. You unfold the note and try to decipher the scrambled words. talk to tom about class. (remember don’t mention your crush shhhh) 
You nod, curl the paper and put it back into your pocket. “It was not a good idea and really you should never trust drunk people to have good ideas.” 
Benedict laughs and you sit back in silence. You press your lips together as your mind races through the few things you said as Benedict helped you home. Biting your lip, you can’t remember anything that will alert your friend to something you don’t want him to know. Nor did he see the note, so you should be good. 
Still, during the next few minutes before Benedict pulls up to campus, your heart beats unsteadily. Your head throbs and your gut churns at the stupid admittance from your drunk and sleep deprived self. The knowledge that said secret is about the person you allegedly hate, that gives you countless headaches throughout the day, and that you’re teaching a class with in a few hours, has your head spin and your throat go dry.
Yup, sure, looking forward to it. 
 ---
“Professor Y/L/N.”
You turn around to the small smile of one of your students. Mr. Holland purses his lips, his grip on a piece of paper turning his knuckles white. “What can I help you with?” you ask him, returning his kind, albeit nervous,  smile. 
He looks down. “I was wondering if you could, uh, read over this story I wrote.” He hands you the paper and carefully looks up at you. “You don’t have to, really, I just… I have you in both history and this and you said to use classes to ease the workload, and well, I have this story that does a take on one of the myths we have in history.”
“Really?” You raise a brow and accept the paper. The title reads Lady Thor, and immediately you smile knowing which myth he chose. The image of Thor claiming to be Freya and swinging Mjolnir at his new husband and the guests, all the while dressed in a bridal gown that spared no expenses. “Even this one. You know, this is one of my favorites.” 
Mr. Holland nods. “Yeah, of the ones you showed us, it’s mine, too.” He puts a hand on his neck and rubs. His eyes avoid your gaze a little, but through his eyelashes you can see him look up at you for a reaction. 
You smile wider, eye crinkling at the sides. “I’ll read through it tonight, okay?” 
At the words, Mr. Holland visibly relaxes. His arm falls down to his side, and he smiles. “Oh, wow, that’s really cool of you. Thank you so much.” 
You widen your smile at him. “Don’t worry about it.”
Mr. Holland nods and shakes his head at the same time, looking like a little kid finally getting that present he wants. “Thank you so much. Have a nice day, professor Y/L/N. Thank you so much.”
You let out a laugh. “Thank you. Have a nice day, too, Mr. Holland,” you say, “see you tomorrow in class.”
He nods and leaves the classroom, last of the thirty students after yet another class of creative writing. You let out a content sigh and gather your things on the desk, tucking the paper with his story carefully into the same fold as your laptop so as not to wrinkle it. 
“Uh,” Hiddleston says, and you turn your head and glance at him, “this idea of yours, incorporating other works into their own, it was rather good.” 
You raise a brow and fully turn around. “Wait? Is what I’m hearing praise? From Thomas William Hiddleston? From the man who hates my guts?” You fish your phone out of your pocket and open the camera. “Can you say it again, but on camera so I have proof?” 
Hiddleston rolls his eyes. “Can’t you just take the compliment? I know there’s not a lot of space in the nut you call a brain, but maybe try to find some for basic mannes.” 
“Oh, because there’s more space in yours? Sure, it’s bloated, but we both know how small it really is.” You scoff and turn around, putting your phone back in your pocket and closing the zipper of your backpack. “You know what, Hiddleston?” You turn back to him. 
“What?” 
“You’re just annoyed that I might actually have the upper hand in this class. That my ideas are better than yours and that, really, I should have the whole class. You know as well as I that the only reason I don't is because you’re too proud to admit I’m better than you.” 
The man takes long, quick strides, closing the distance between you two. “I’m not annoyed. Rather I find it fascinating that you’re teaching a class that you’re less qualified for than the rest of the teaching faculty.” 
“I’m more than qualified. In fact, I believe I’m more qualified than you in certain aspects of it. All you got is your literature and your language, and sure it helps, but you’re too stuck up with the old you don’t know what’s new and how to actually make these students achieve to the best of their abilities.” You raise your voice. Eyes lock onto his; You can see your reflection in them, see the anger riddled on your face. “The fact that you don’t think I’m qualified is exactly why you’re brain is bloated; It’s because you can’t see facts unless they’re touching your dick.”
Hiddleston shakes his head. “Oh, yeah,” he says, “and why can’t you realize that I never did anything to you and that the only reason you hate me is because you need some action in your life?”
What has that got to do with anything?
You take a step closer to him. “Action? And what action do you give my life?” His breath mixes with yours. “You give me headaches, stomach aches making me want to not show up for work. I’ve missed every birthday of Benedict’s kids because of you and I love those kids. You ruin my life because you can’t see that not everything revolves around you. You’re not the freakin’ sun, but you damn as well might be the Earth being that egocentric”
You’re both shouting now. Your words mix together and distorts into the background. One step closer and you can smell his cologne, One step closer and his heartbeat mixes with yours, creating a rhythm that takes control of your mind. Half a step closer and you’re inches apart, close enough for you to look into those blue-green eyes of his and see the fury sparkle. Half a step closer and you’ll be close enough to only need one push and your lips will touch his. 
Neither of you stop shouting, but as you take that step closer, you forget what you’re arguing about, even though your mouth continues to shout words. 
Never in a million years would you admit the thought that runs through your head as you take that step. Never in a million years would you act on said thought. But, right there and then, it crosses your mind. It races across, asking a million questions of what would happen if you were to lean up those few inches and capture his lips in a heated kiss that would finally shut him up. 
But you don’t act. 
No, instead, your voice returns. Instead, your head grows clear. Instead, Tom’s voice slows down, the volume of his voice decreasing. 
In that moment, you know with one hundred percent certainty; You will never admit to why you hate him. You’ll never admit it’s easier to hate. Easier to fuel unnecessary rage and unjustified actions. Easier to keep hating and fuel the energy behind it. 
Because asking for forgiveness takes courage you don’t possess.
permanent tags: @devilbat @adefectivedetective 
tom tags:  @inlovewith3 @bookgirlunicorn @mindlesschicca @justawriterinprogress 
SUaKM tags:  @plooffairy @just-the-hiddles @jennytwoshoes @lokissidehoe @fruitfly123 @princetale @scorpionchild81 @noplacelikehome77 @winterisakiller @lostsoldieronahill @nonsensicalobsessions @cherrygeek86 @louhpstuff @olyamoriarty @sunshinein17 @kthemarsian @kumikowi @secretcupcakekitty @buckygrantbarnes @josis-teacup @runawaygiirl @januarycalendargirl @funny-fangirl @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpiomindfuck  @dr-kayleigh-dh @inmyworstlies @twhgirl
Bold in the taglist means tumblr won’t let me mention you :(
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