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dialovers-translations · 4 years ago

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DIABOLIK LOVERS Para-Selene Vol.5 Sakamaki Laito [Track 1]

Original title: 潰れた苺

Source: Diabolik Lovers Para-Selene Vol. 5 Sakamaki Laito [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here (0:00~12:18)

Seiyuu: Hirakawa Daisuke

Translator’s note: The Para-Selene CDs are usually very plot-focused and emotional with some A+ interactions between the MC and the Diaboys so I am definitely interested to see how the scenario will play out with Laito. I swear he is one of the favorites at Rejet because his CDs are always so good. He’s definitely not one of my biases, but I tend to enjoy most of his CDs because they just flesh out his character so well in every single one of them.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

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Track 1: Mashed Up Strawberries

Laito enters your room.

*Thud*

“...Bitch-chan~”

You shriek in surprise.

“Nfu~ How cruel of you to be so startled. I’m only worried about you, you know?”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Exactly. You seemed a little under the weather earlier. Since you’ve already crawled into bed, I assume my observation was correct. Are you okay, Bitch-chan?”

You attempt to move away.

*Rustle rustle*

“...Oh! Hehe~ ...Woah there~ Why are you trying to get away? Is there perhaps something you don’t want me to find out?”

He leans in.

“There should be no secrets between lovers, you know?”

You remain quiet.

“Hmー Actually, no. Since I’m such a sweetheart, I can take your feelings into account even when you don’t voice them out loud.”

You frown.

“Nfu~ It’s fine. You can just leave everything to me. Well then, for starters, why don’t you lie down on the bed again...”

*Thud*

“...There~”

*Rustle*

“I can tell you’re ill at least. However, it doesn’t seem like a regular cold. Are you perhaps...affection-sick? (1) Fufu~ Guess I’m not too far off? Well, I might be a Vampire, but I’m the one you want by your side the most, right?”

You call him out for always doing perverted things to you.

“Nfufu~ Bitch-chan...You no longer mince your words, do you? However, too bad~ Right now, I’m not planning on doing anything weird to you...”

*Rustle*

“...But something pleasurable instead, you see~? Haahn...”

Laito bites you.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“Ah...Hm? Your blood tastes different than usual today. Like haphazardly mashed up strawberries...? This is a first for me...Hmm~ I suppose it isn’t bad every once in a while. Mmh...”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Nfu~ Ah...Hmm~~? Have you started feeling good? I don’t dislike it when you’re honest to your own desires like that. If anything, it makes me go crazy as well.”

You look up at him.

“What’s wrong? It’s almost as if you’re begging me for it. ...Is that a signal asking for more, Bitch-chan?”

*Rustle*

“Nfu~ Your fair shoulders are so very pretty...When I think about the blood flowing underneath here, I get excited...”

He bites you once more.

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Aahー ...How’s that? You like it when I suck from here, don’t you? ...Nfu~ Honestly, it’s so troublesome how easy you are to read, suddenly going quiet like that.”

*Rustle*

“You’re giving off this lovely fragrance as well...You really are a slut (2), aren’t you? However, I like you that way.”

You puff out your cheeks.

“Fufufu~ You’re upset, aren’t you? How cruel. I’m only revealing my true feelings, you know? Girls like that sorta stuff...Nn...”

*Sluuuuurp*

*Gulp*

“...Ah~ Do you like it from the ear? ...Liar. I know you love it. Come on. Let’s enjoy ourselves more. I’m extremely aroused right now.”

*Gulp gulp gulp*

“...Haah~ Seems like you’re starting to feel pretty good as well? Not only are your cheeks flushed red, but you’ve worked up a light sweat as well. Ah~ You’ve really become my perfect Bitch-chan~ I can barely recognize you as the girl from when we first met. You remember, don’t you? You would protest and cry from the second I pierced my fangs through your skin. Speaking of which...I haven’t seen that sort of expression from you as of late. Say...If I suck your blood with all my might, will you cry out for me?”

You hesitate.

“Hm...Well, I guess that makes sense. You’re the type of girl who finds pleasure in pain as well after all. Fufu~ I don’t mind that either but...”

*Rustle*

“I suppose I’ll call it a day for now. I mean, it would be troublesome if you were to grow anemic after all. Besides, when you’re kept on the edge of your seat, that craving for more becomes even stronger, it’s rather nice, you see. Say~? Will you move a little more to the left? I’d like to join you in the bed.”

Laito crawls underneath the covers with you.

*Thud*

*Rustle*

“ーー There we go. You want someone to stay with you, no? So I’m offering to sleep by your side. What do you say? Don’t you think I’m nice for trying to get closer to you both physically and emotionally?”

You thank him.

“...Oh. I didn’t expect such an honest response from you.”

You smile.

“...Nfu~ Are you genuinely happy to know I’m worried about you? Geez~ You really are such a simple-minded girl~”

You get a little upset.

“ ーー Just kidding. That was a joke. Shall we get some rest? ...Come here.”

You cuddle up to him.

*Rustle*

“...Haah...Say, do you feel relieved when I’m holding you in my arms like this? ...Or will you instead have trouble sleeping from excitement? That’s no good. Close your eyes. If not...I will continue where we left off~”

You close you eyes.

“Fufu~ ...What do we have here~? You’re actually obeying my command? What a shame! I would have loved to mess with you a little more. Well, I guess I can do that while you’re asleep as well. ...Just kidding~ Nfu~”

*Rustle*

“Your body feels hot...Somehow it makes even my chest feel warm, when I know it’s supposed to be lacking any temperature. ...Goodnight, Bitch-chan. May you have the most pleasurable of dreams...~”

*Smooch*

“...Did she fall asleep? Ah-aah...Look at her being all relaxed. I don’t dislike seeing her make this kind of expression in her sleep, but it’s a little lacking...As of late, she has seemingly gotten completely used to my shenanigans. It’s a little boring.”

*TIMESKIP*

*Rustle*

Laito wakes up.

“Nn...Hm? ...Pwaah...Bitch-chan?”

He sits up and stretches.

“Nnー! Hah~ What’s wrong? Did you wake up? In that case, I don’t mind forcing you to lose consciousneー ...Bitch-chan?”

You continue staring at the window.

“...Is there something outside the window? Ahー That moon. It’s a little mysterious, don’t you think? Shrouded in a haze, almost making it seem like there’s two of them. I can understand why it would catch your eye but...When you look at it so passionately, you’re going to make me jealous~”

*Rustle*

“Rather than the moon, you shouldーー Uu...!”

*BZZZZZZZ*

“Ugh...Uu...What’s...this...!? My head’s...!! Ugh...Haah...Bitch...cha...n...”

He collapses.

*Thud*

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

Translation notes

(1) He asks if she is longing for affection, so I decided to translate it as a pun on the word ‘homesick’. I figured it was figured since they are talking about her possibly being ill.

(2) I’ve mentioned this multiple times but the term ビッチ in Japanese is actual closer to the English ‘slut’ than it is to ‘bitch’, referring to a woman with very loose morals. When Laito uses the word without adding ‘-chan’, I prefer translating it as such because I believe him leaving out the suffix in Japanese also implies that he is using it in a more serious way.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #laito sakamaki #diabolik lovers para-selene #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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thatesqcrush · 4 years ago

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Fall From Grace, Pt. 8

Bryan Kneef x Reader. Fandom: The Good Fight. Reference: S4, E.4, “The Gang is Satirized and Doesn’t Like It.” CW: Angst, language.

AN: Our lovely REE was on The Good Fight for all of 3 minutes so I am taking lots of liberties. I am obsessed with the anti-Barba. He was just delicious.

AN2: I may have been inspired slightly by that horrible Barba episode that I pretend doesn’t exist - you may recognize what Barba said to Liv. So credit to SVU, S.19, E. 13, The Undiscovered Country.

AN3: Bryan’s outfit was inspired by Chef Harry. So if you don’t know what that looks like, may I present you...

Reading your text caused Bryan’s heart to lurch.

He slammed his glass of whiskey back, swallowing it hole. He was tempted to respond but instead he did not. Not right away at least. He mulled over what Marissa had said: “All this fussing to say you care? Sounds like love to me.”

Love.

He wasn’t one for love. Life was like an old black and white movie; he was absolutely sure who were the good guys and the bad guys – nine times out of ten, he was the good guy in court, but the bad guy in relationships. And then you had weaseled your way into his world and black and white became different shades of gray. And then it became blues and greens.

He then recalled Marissa’s other advice: Be honest about what you want. All it takes is some communication.

But it seemed you didn’t want to have any opportunity to talk to him.

Never one to back down from a challenge, he decided he was going to make his own opportunity. Bryan knew he fucked up and he vowed to himself to make it up to you – if only you’d let him.

And he hoped you would.

You walked up the sidewalk to your apartment, hands full of empty boxes. You had made sure to get to the market early so you could get the good boxes – otherwise you were stuck with the boxes that smelled like melon.

You made your way back into your apartment. It wasn’t that hot yet, so you opened the window to let the morning breeze come in. You asked Alexa to play your favorite playlist and then tied your hair into a pony-tail.

Packing sucked. But you had movers coming in three days and you needed to get your affairs in order.

Hours later, you still had a ways to go but you had a good section done. You needed more boxes so you made plans to pick up some more, resigning that some of your stuff would smell like melon after all.

Exhausted, you collapsed on your couch with a cool compress on your forehead. “Mmmm, just need a nap.” You mumbled to yourself.

Your eyes felt heavy and you knew it wouldn’t be long until you were out. You sighed contentedly, ready for the sleep to settle in when the loud roar of a motorcycle startled you awake. Annoyed, you walked over to the window to close it when you noticed who was getting off the motorcycle.

It was Bryan.

He looked up towards the apartment windows and you immediately ducked your head, hitting it on the head of the window frame.

“Son of bitch!” You moaned, rubbing your head. You could hear your phone buzzing in the distance and you knew it was Bryan calling. You didn’t pick up, instead choosing to head downstairs to meet him outside.

With every step down, you felt the knots in your stomach grow. With a deep breath, you opened the main entrance door and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Bryan looked up from his cellphone and gave you what you were certain was a genuine smile.

You didn’t let it sway you.

You looked both ways before crossing the street. You felt woefully under-dressed – more of a hot mess if you will. You were in grey sweat shorts and a dark blue fitted t-shirt. And you would be damned if you didn’t admit how good he looked. Especially in the leather jacket. He wore faded black jeans and a dark grey Henley. A gold chain glinted under the few buttons of the Henley that were undone.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed at Bryan.

“We need to talk.” Bryan replied, removing his helmet. “Can I come up and talk to you for a few minutes?”

“About what?” You asked, with a sneer. You crossed your arms under your chest. “I don't think that's a good idea.

“Because of what might happen?”

“Because it's not a good time.”

“You’re quitting. You’re leaving.” Bryan tossed his helmet from hand to hand. “You’re not leaving me with much of an option.”

“I told you – there is no reason for me to stay.”

Bryan sighed and placed his helmet on the seat of his bike. “That’s not entirely true. Can we please go upstairs and talk?”

Your eyes narrowed. “Fine, but don’t get any funny ideas. I hope you know that I hate you from the bottom of my vagina.”

Bryan cocked his head, covering his mouth that was threatening to twitch into a smile. “Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and the two of you made way back into the apartment. Bryan felt his heart sink further as he took in the sight of your half-packed apartment. You really were leaving. And it was his fault.

You looked over your shoulder. “Do you want anything to drink? I have vodka in the freezer, soda and water.”

“Water is just fine.”

You stood behind your breakfast bar – the idea that somehow it served as a barrier between you and Bryan was almost laughable. There was a part of you that wanted to fling yourself over and kiss him. But you held your ground.

Bryan took the water and drank it before sitting on your couch. You eyed him warily; you could feel your heart thumping in your chest and your stomach was in knots. Bryan reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled through to your text, and murmured the majority before speaking at full volume: I picked NYC because the man who doesn’t love me isn’t there.”

“I know what I said Bryan.”

“The implication is that I don’t love you. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.”

“Don’t you dare say it, Bryan!”

“I love you.”

You felt all the air get sucked out of your lungs.

“Goddammit Bryan! You broke my heart!” You turned your back to him and roughly opened the fridge to grab something for yourself to drink. You used the tip of your nail to open the can of soda. “You think you can waltz in here on your bike, looking good…because damn, you do look so good… say these things and have me pretend like what happened never happened? You were an asshole!” You shout as you pivoted back to face him. And instead you came face to face with him. Your mind flashed back to your initial run-in with him – the start of everything. Your eyes welled with tears.

“I was.”

A tear escaped your eye. Bryan used the pad of his thumb to wipe it away and you bowed your head slightly, in near defeat.

“I think you love me too.” Bryan replied softly, cupping your chin to face him. “I feel fairly certain that there is still something between us. I know that you're angry. You have every right to be. I fucked up.”

You didn’t respond.

“I miss you. I've missed you. You should know that. I lie in bed at night and I think about us, I think about all of our time together. I should have told you how I felt. How I feel.” Brian continued.

You jutted your chin out of his grasp. “Don’t. You don’t get to do this to me.” You scanned your apartment. “I have to finish packing.”

You turned to move past Bryan, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled you flush against him. You had a sense of déjà vu . The last time you were this physically close to Bryan, he kissed you hard and you smacked him in response. The kiss this time was deliberately soft. Bryan’s cologne overwhelmed your senses. You pressed yourself, leaning up to return the kiss. Bryan groaned as your tongue swirled around his and he wrapped his arms around your waist. It was so easy to get caught up into the kiss and to lose yourself in the passion.

You forced yourself to break the kiss. You looked up at Bryan, searching his green eyes. Tears streaked your cheeks. “I’m sorry Bryan. I can’t. I… just don’t know if I can trust you anymore. You treated me like shit for no reason.”

“I know. I’m sorry. Please.” Bryan near begged. “We can work this out. Please don’t leave. Give me a chance.” His voice cracked.

You shook your head. “No. I’ve got to move on. Please leave.”

Bryan’s face, once somber, turned stoic. He cleared his throat. “Fine. Good luck with the move.” His voice was clipped and inwardly you winced.

You walked Bryan out and shut the door behind him with a click. For good measure, you made sure to bolt the door. You watched him get on his motorcycle from your window and as he kicked it into gear, you burst into tears.

Because Bryan was right. You were in love with him.

Days later, the last of the movers had packed your boxes in their truck. You reached into your pocket and left your copy of the key on the breakfast bar. You checked your phone to make sure your boarding pass was loaded. It was and you used the opportunity to check into your flight.

There was a knock on the door. “Ms. Y/L/N?”

You jumped, startled. Turning around, you eyed the delivery man. “That is me. Can I help you?”

The delivery man smiled in relief. “Oh good. I managed to catch you before you left. I have a delivery from a Mr. Kneef.”

You frowned. “Okay. Let me get my wallet to tip you.”

“No need, already taken care of.” The delivery man replied. He set the bag on the breakfast bar, by your key. You wished him well and then turned to the small delivery bag.

In it, was a box of English toffee from Cora Lee. It was your favorite candy that only came around during firm victories. You wondered how he knew - but at the same time, it didn’t surprise you that he knew. In addition, there was a long red box from Cartier, which contained a delicate diamond tennis bracelet.

There was also a note.

NYC is so lucky to have you.

Yours – always.

Tags: @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @delia26 @mgarner1227 @beardedmccoy @youreverycolor @neely1177 @the-baby-bookworm @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @ottosuricato @delia26 @sass-and-suspenders @mommakat32 @dreila03 @beccabarba @garturbo @lovebennycolon @imjustreallynosy @sweetsummertime99 @whyissvuruiningmylovelife @annabelleb49 @scarletsoldierrr @cesarofangirl78 @redlipstickandplaid @redlipstickandblacktea @zoeykaytesmom @differentshadesofgray @misssirenlove @esparza-army @bananas-pajamas @mishaissocoolike @thefanficfaerie @theenchantedgalleryofstories @catnip987 @choppedgalaxynerd @pieceofshittytitty @ktiz90 @evee87 @itsjustmyfantasyroom @blk0912 @detective-giggles @rampantmuses @jazzyjoi @caked-crusader- anyone else, just ask!

#bryan kneef x reader #bryan kneef and reader #bryan kneef fanfic #the good fight fanfic #brian kneef imagine

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diamo-chan · 4 years ago

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THE REASON I’D CHOOSE IVAN IF I WERE IN ELOISE’S SHOES

Ivan had been my second favorite from the start, and, no, not even his route was able to spoil that, for me. But since Ethan is my fave my taste is questionable anyway. (☉ε　⊙ﾉ)ﾉ

The snippet includes spoilers for his route! So be warned. (English is not my native language + not beta-read – simply because I’m not used to that process)

Word count: 1,4k

The screams made her jump up from her seat on the garden bench and fall into a frenzy in a split second. The fear she felt was her own, not his. No, he was calm, albeit not quiet. This serenity only passed when Eloise came running into his room and stepped between Aaron and Ivan’s… she didn’t know what to call it, strict parenting? Authoritative weaning? – To say Ivan was surprised would be a grave understatement. He was shaken to the very bone with no room for neither breathing nor moving; suddenly his mind was clear, and his emotions sober.

The dispute that followed was the first time he hears Eloise scream like that, fists balled in fear, but still refusing to let Aaron anywhere close to Ivan. Maybe that was still a reflex from last week. Ivan was left in the role of a spectator. Sure, his plan had been stupid, sure it brought everyone in the manor into danger, but Eloise was not responsible for his bad decision making, his friend had no right to be angry with her. But before he could interfere, his sire let out a deep sigh.

Eventually Aaron gave in before it would escalate, seeing as how Eloise was deaf to any and all of his arguments with mental fingers in her ears. He threw one last look over his shoulder into the room of the young vampire before leaving the two of them to figure out what should become of bond now.

After a moment of silence the chalice slid down the door with a laugh and just sat there on the floor with her legs spread away from her, staring at her dumbfounded vampire in relieve.

“You are either suicidal or mad.” Ivan whispered in awe. Those were the first words he had spoken to her since the incident with his ex. Not that he wasn’t grateful for her help. He was. Hell, without her he would be dead by now. He loved her, very much so, even without her risking her neck for him… but last week just had been a lot to take. Still, he knew her well enough by now, to be aware that she would not allow him to lock himself off of her again. A swift jump and Eloise was back on her feet, and let her drained body rest next to him at the edge of Ivan’s bed.

“What makes you think that I am not both?” The playfulness in her eyes betrayed nothing of the exhaustion, that the conflict with Aaron left her in.

He layed back on the bedcover with an elegant flop. During the hunt he had a lot of time to think. It always gave him the chance to clear his head of all troubles, but there was something that has been incomprehensible to him from the very first day. Maybe now, that they had established something more stable, now, that they both had made peace with their respective deaths, this might be the right moment to ask.

Turning onto his stomach he searched for her eyes. When she noticed his interest, she looked at him in expectation, the golden fire of his irises met her icy grey ones, and he almost backed out of it, if it wasn’t for the reassuring smile on her lips. Ivans voice was hoarse, barely loud enough to reach her, if it wasn’t for her increased sense of hearing.

“I am grateful to have you. But whenever I think back I can’t help but wonder” He took a deep breath. “Why did you choose me in the first place?”

Eloise looked genuinely confused. But after a short moment she just shrugged. “Because I wanted to give you a chance”

“To do what exactly?” he insisted.

Her exhale was a soft laugh when she let herself sink back on the covers so she was face to face with him. Ivan was forced to shift his weight to the side when she gently took the hand that was closer to her and started caressing it in a calming manner. She knew that that was a tough topic for the blond vampire, that whatever she would say, whichever answer she had for him, she would be left walking on eggshells.

“On that first night,” It was as if the scene was replaying in her head, like she was once again seeing his panicking expression through the shards of the glass that were illuminated by the moonlight. “You wanted to catch me and pull me back up again. You were wide awake, when I saw your face during the fall.” Instantly she was captivated by those orange eyes that shone like merciless flames. But the boy whom these expressive orbs belonged to, his heart used to be broken, fearful. “I didn’t know what would come of this, but I didn’t want you to blame yourself, or try to make it up to everyone.” Once again Ivan looked at her as if she was crazy. Crazy to safe the person who brought her into that situation in the first place. But before the pain had a chance to settle on his soul again, a foxy grin appeared on Eloise’s face as she added: “And I found you hot, but that’s just convenient side effect”

“You really are mad.” Grabbing her hand Ivan pressed a kiss to her palm.

With a giggle Eloise sat back up. With a gentle tug on the arm her boy leaned on, she turned him on his back, so he was resting in a more relaxed position, before climbing up, to rest in top if his thighs. She shook her head, jokingly. “No, Ethan is mad. I am just one lucky girl who hit her head too hard.”

She loved this man, what happened in the past could not change anything about that. And now that they finally had the peace to enjoy the bond they shared, she could not have her nearly-death dragging it down. Rather, she had to prove to Ivan that he was just as alive as her. Maybe this was crazy if one was not part of this. But she could not care less.

She grabbed the cape that Ivan took off after returning from the hunt and left crumbled next to his pillow and threw it over her shoulders like a blanket. Fluttering her lashes under the shaddow of the hood, she cleared her throat before speaking in a faked deep voice, that must be a horribly failed attempt to intimidate Ivan’s.

“Did it hurt when you fell from the window?”, seductively, but in a ridiculing kind of way, she wiggled her brows with a lopsided grin on those sinful lips that Ivan craved even more than her blood. “Something, something, me being an angel.”

Ivan bursted out laughing, at her way of changing the mood in her favor, at the happiness that bloomed in his chest whenever he saw her.

“That was terrible.” he managed between chuckles. As his whole body shook from the contractions of his breathing, she let off a bit to give him room, all-the-while keeping her gaze sultry. Her hands rested on his chest until he had calmed down a bit and was responsive again.

“Why don’t we work on improving that then.” Her suggestion might have been innocent, of it wasn’t for the heated look in her grey eyes.

One pull and he had caught her off balance, pulled his lover closer on top of him, flush against his torso. No more words were needed. Ivan’s body, his hands, pressed against her with an urgency that held promises he’d be eagerly fulfilling when it came to her.

* * *

Downstairs, Ethan sat on the couch with his face burried in his hands, breathing deeply and soundly. With and energetic motion he combed his fingers through his hair and got up.

“I will ask Vlad if I can move down into the cellar.” Aaron, who was throwing darts at the board on the opposite end of the room, raised a questioning eyebrow, so Ethan could see that he was indeed listening and continue with his explanation. “They are constantly on each other. I don’t know how long I can take, having the room under his”

The redhead snorted.

“I didn’t expect you to act even more prude than Vlad… he sleeps on the other side of that wall, after all.” He said with a mocking grin on his face. Even after all the time Ethan had spent with Beliath, this was still bothering him? But there was one thought that might reassure the medic, or rather hit him even harder than the present. As soon as Aaron voiced it, a silken pillow came flying at his face, but he simply caught it with a laugh and an bemusedly fond gaze at Ethan’s moping form.

“You will get used to it over the next months… years…decades.”

#moonlight lovers #moonlight lovers headcanon #thats my personal reason #ml ivan #not sure if my Eloise is too ooc #spoilers are in the context #fanfic snippet

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ohwhatamessiam · 7 years ago

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Self Control - Chapter 3

Summary: You attend the English department’s dinner, where you meet a few fellow colleagues and Chris’ wife. A comment @fangirlisms-22 left me was “Okay three seems super aggressive for the first time they do this.” But I’m gonna leave that up to y’all to decide.

Pairing: Professor!Chris Evans X TA!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k (this took on a life of its own and that is why it’s taken a year to write guys)

Warnings: Language, A VERY EXPLICIT UNPROTECTED SEX SCENE (IF YOU ARE UNDER 18 DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST ALSO PLEASE USE PROTECTION AT ALL TIMES), some casual drinking, the introduction of some other attractive Marvel stars.

A/N: Hey y’all, so I’m here to ruin your Thursday (lol I know I’m posting this at 3 am my time) with flirting and sex, woohoo! I didn’t make the wife a specific person, but a composite of several women Chris has dated. It’s been like 3 years since I’ve written smut so this is pretty shitty. I used to write very clumsy, awkward, cute, and protected sex scenes, but this one threw all that out the window. A thank you to @fangirlisms-22 for helping me chop 300 words off this bad boy. I believe everyone on my taglist has confirmed that they’re 18+, but if I included you and you are not, please let me know. Here’s the Spotify playlist for the entire fic. I love feedback, so send me your thoughts, feelings, wishes, etc!

Tags are open for this story, so send me an ask here to be added to it or my permanent list!

Self Control | Masterlist

It was Thursday night of the third week of classes, and Prof. Downey had strongly recommended you attend the English Department’s dinner at his house. It was his way of kicking off the new semester, and getting new and old colleagues introduced to each other. You really hadn’t planned on attending, but one of your fellow grad students swore that all the graduate TAs attended to get to know their current or future, bosses and coworkers better.

Arriving at at Prof. Downey’s house five minutes before the evening would officially begin, you waited in your car for a few minutes to breathe and calm your nerves.

These were your colleagues and advisors. There was no need for you to be nervous or worried. But you reminded yourself that wasn’t completely correct. Prof. Evans and his wife were supposed to attend tonight, and after your shared moment of intimacy outside his office, you weren’t sure if you could handle meeting her. You’d felt so badly about the incident that you’d barely spoken to Chris except for discussing class assignments and grades.

You take your last breath in before getting out of your car, your small clutch and favorite bottle of red wine in hand. You only get to knock on Prof. Downey’s intricate wooden door once before it swings open. Prof. Downey greets you with a grin and a dramatic wave for you to enter, “Come on in, (Y/N)!” You smile back politely, lifting your wine bottle towards him. “Oh thank you, but you should keep that.”

“Robert really needs to put ‘bring your own booze’ on his invites,” a man chuckles from inside the room. His dark blue eyes meet yours as you step into the house.

“Everyone, this is (Y/N). She’s the new grad student who’s TA-ing for Chris,” Prof. Downey announces after he shuts the front door. “(Y/N), the snarky bastard who always brings enough alcohol for everyone is Professor Stan.”

You twitch your fingers, waving to him. “Robert, you know I prefer Seb, or if we’re being formal, Sebastian,” the man in a navy suit waves Prof. Downey off. “It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” he says warmly with a crooked smile, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

“And this is Professor Mackie, who doesn’t actually belong at this dinner, or even in the English department, considering he’s a sociology professor,” Prof. Downey says, rolling his eyes as he passes the leather couch the two men are sitting on.

“And I prefer to be called Dr. Mackie, since I did all the damn work to get a Ph.D.,” the man in a gray suit jacket smirks, giving you a polite nod before glaring at Prof. Downey.

“Wherever Prof. Stan seems to go, Dr. Mackie appears to follow,” Prof. Downey shrugs.

“Sebastian,” Prof. Stan reminds him.

Prof. Downey shakes his head at Sebastian and moves onto the woman sitting in the arm chair across from the couch, “And as you may know already, this is Elizabeth Olsen, a third year grad student.”

“Hi Elizabeth,” you say, giving her a small smile and a nervous look. You actually have met her twice.

“Hey (Y/N),” she smiles back before pointing at your wine bottle. “What do you have there?”

“Uh, just a Merlot I had in my apartment. I hadn’t really planned on coming tonight, but I couldn’t say no to Prof. Downey’s invite.”

“It’s Robert, dear,” Prof. Downey reminds you.

“I just couldn’t turn Robert down,” you correct yourself.

“Better,” he smiles at you. You hand him the bottle and take a seat next to Elizabeth.

“You’ll learn this is a very informal group,” Dr. Mackie reassures.

Sebastian nods in agreement, “Yes, this may be the only department that not only allows you to drink at all its events, but actively encourages it.”

Well this was going to be an interesting night.

6 more professors, including Chris, and 5 more grad students show up before dinner. Robert made sure to bring you a glass of wine to help you relax, he could tell that you aren’t quite sure where you fit in the department yet. He whispers a few words of encouragement to you before dinner starts, “Be yourself (Y/N), you’ll find your place here by staying true to your wants and interests.”

Chris’s wife, Jennifer, does very little as the night goes on. She barely says hi before finding the kitchen and pouring herself a drink. And that drink is followed by several more. She speaks to Sebastian, Robert's wife Susan, and one of the other grad students during the evening, and when dinner finally begins, she barely pokes at her food.

You somehow end up sitting between Susan and Sebastian, with Jennifer, Chris, and Dr. Mackie directly across from you three. You make sure to quietly praise Susan’s food, and her gentle smile and squeeze on your wrist feels maternal. Sitting at their long wooden table, you can tell Robert and her are the parents of this group, and although the department squabbles, they all genuinely seem to care about each other.

They are a family, and you're lucky to be welcomed into it.

Robert ends up asking the instructors at the table how their classes are going, and you listen quietly but enthusiastically as you work on your third glass of wine. When the question reachs Chris, you drop your hands in your lap and avert your eyes.

“It’s been going really well,” he starts, taking a swig of his beer. “The writing courses have been smooth, and the literature course has been much easier than I’d anticipated. But I have (Y/N) to thank for that.” Your eyes dart up at him cautiously as you take another sip of wine. Jennifer raises her gaze from the table for the first time since the food was served.

“Oh, (Y/N)’s been helpful?” Robert asks, giving you a knowing glance that says he knew you’d be great.

“Quite helpful actually. I’d say she almost has a better grip on the literature than I do, and she’s great at looking at the pieces through different perspectives,” Chris continues, and you can feel his eyes watching you, but you drop your gaze back to your plate. A flush creeps up your cheeks, but you tell yourself it's just in response to the alcohol.

“If (Y/N)’s good with literature then I might have to request a new TA next semester, Robert,” Sebastian says next to you. You glance up to catch him watching you closely. His dark blue eyes meet yours and you could swear you turn to jelly on the spot.

“Literature isn’t really my thing, but when Prof. Downey-,” you begin. Prof. Downey’s fork scrapes loudly against his plate. “Well uh, when Robert asked if I was willing to help, I figured I’d make it work.”

“So what is it you prefer to do then, (Y/N)?” Sebastian asks with a small smirk as he angles his body toward yours.

“She’s a writer,” Chris cuts in.

“And quite a good one,” Robert adds. Their voices pull you back from your tunnel vision on Sebastian, but you could stare at that man all day. “I was actually going to ask if she’d be interested in submitting anything for publication this semester,” Robert continues, and you turn to find him watching you with a look of caution.

“Uh, I actually haven’t written anything in awhile, but I’m sure I could put something together,” you answer, nodding his way slowly.

“Excellent.”

After dinner, part of the department left and the other part found their way back to the living room with their drinks in hand. You thought Chris would leave based on how uncomfortable Jennifer had been all night, and how quickly she found an escape. Yet, even after she pulled him aside to speak in hushed tones, she kissed him on the cheek, and threw a goodbye over her shoulder. Chris seemed to shrug it off and took a spot on the couch. You ended up sharing a loveseat with Elizabeth who’d been giggling and whispering to you after her fourth glass of wine.

Conversation had turned to current students and you felt like you were sitting in an inner circle of powerful people. Sure, discussing how annoying or talented certain students seemed was kinda unprofessional, but the evening was so informal that it didn’t matter.

“There’s been one kid that wanted an extension weeks before the due date,” Chris offers to the group, “but all the rest are relatively average. Few bother to stop by office hours or contact me.”

“I’ve had a couple stop by my hours,” you cut in, feeling your fourth glass of wine kick in. “There’s this one kid, uh, Tom, he’s really sweet. He’s had a lot of questions about the literature. He’s stopped by my office a couple times and emails me questions too.”

“Oh yeah, his last paper was pretty good,” Chris nods at you.

“Sounds like someone might have a crush on you,” Sebastian cuts in, nearly singing the words to you. Closing your mouth quickly, you sit up a little straighter, unsure of what's going on. Sebastian’s eyes are zoned in on you and you try not to stare back at him but it's nearly impossible. “But I don’t think you can really blame the kid.”

“Prof. Stan, don’t make me send you down to HR to see Scarlett,” Robert warns.

Sebastian lets out a sigh as he turns to Robert, “It’s Seb! And I doubt Scarlett would have anything positive to say about our present environment, RDJ.”

You avert your eyes from their tiff and find Chris watching you with narrowed eyes. “Alright boys,” Susan breaks in. Sebastian throws his hands up in forfeit and finishes his drink.

“He likes you,” Elizabeth snickers as she grips your wrist.

You turn to her with confusion etched in your features, “What?”

“He likes you,” she whispers quietly this time.

“Who?”

“Um,” she starts before glancing back at the couch Sebastian and Chris are sitting on, “Both of them, I think.”

The night came to a close after everyone had attempted to sober up, called a cab, or announced they were crashing in Robert’s guest rooms. You tell Robert you aren’t comfortable driving but you need to go back to your office to pick up some assignment to grade, so he lets you leave after you promise to call a cab.

You hug Susan and Elizabeth, and tell everyone still in the house goodnight. As you start down Robert’s driveway, heavy foot fall comes up behind you. “Hey, (Y/N),” Chris calls, catching up with you. “I’ll walk you to your car.”

“I’m actually going to my office,” you answer, keeping your back to him. “And I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“You’re a beautiful woman who’s intoxicated walking around campus at night, you definitely need someone to walk with,” he responds, moving in front of you.

You pause on the sidewalk, staring at him skeptically, “I don’t think this is a good idea.”

“You can think this is as unnecessary as you want but I’m going to follow you until you get somewhere safely. I can’t have anything happening to my best TA,” he says quietly, but a cheery tone creeps into his voice. You let out a sigh and start back down the sidewalk. “Good,” he chuckles as he follows, “I haven’t gotten a chance to speak with you in a while.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“(Y/N),” Chris pauses, tugging on your wrist. “You’re not still worried about what happened at my office?”

You tug your wrist away from him and speed up your pace, “It was inappropriate, and I don’t want another incident like that to jeopardize our careers.”

Chris continues to follow you as you turn down another street, “I’m sorry.” You cross the street and keep walking. “I really am (Y/N),” he calls as he steps into the street. You glance over your shoulder to find him having to stand back for a car to pass. “I didn’t mean for it to happen, and it was inappropriate.”

You nod to yourself, cross your arms over your chest, and keep walking. He catches up with you as you step onto campus, “But just because we can’t be involved, doesn’t mean you can’t see Sebastian.”

“What?” you ask, stopping your tracks. “Why would you even say that?”

Chris scoffs, “I saw how you looked at him.” You glare at him but stay frozen, “and he definitely likes you.”

“Yet again, that was inappropriate,” you start as you point at Chris. “And I just met him! I don’t even know him!” You jab Chris in the chest before you start to move past him.

His hand wraps around your own, pulling you to a stop, “I’m sorry, I know. It’s just, he’s a good friend of mine and he’s not married.” His hand leaves yours as you make eye contact with him, and you feel nerves of attraction tickle your stomach. “Sure, he always likes grad students, but I want you to be happy.”

His baby blues hold yours and you wish you had more self control, because you can't look away. “I-, I appreciate that but my private life is my private life.”

“I know,” he nods, finally dropping his gaze back to the ground.

It takes you another moment to gather yourself, but you begin walking again, pulling your keys from your bag. “By the way, Jennifer seems really nice,” you comment, desperately trying to remind yourself this man is married.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Is she always that quiet?” you ask as you began climbing a set of stairs, your heels clicking against the cement.

“Um, not generally. She just didn’t want to be there tonight,” Chris answers and you glance over your shoulder to look at him. His hands are shoved in his pockets and his face looks sad. “Actually, she doesn’t really want to be anywhere with me.” You hesitated on the top step, unsure of what that meant. “We’ve been separated for a month.”

You turns your body to face him, suddenly feeling bad about rejecting him so harshly. “I’m sorry Chris, I-, I didn’t know.”

“It’s not a big deal,” he shakes his head. “I’ve actually been sleeping on the couch in my office a few nights a week.”

“That’s really shitty,” you whisper as you continue down the sidewalk. The solid cement turns into uneven brick. You cross your arms again and try to walk carefully.

“We really haven’t told anyone yet. Robert doesn’t even know, so we came together tonight to keep him from asking questions.”

“Susan knows,” you cut in, watching him as you kept walking.

“How-,” he begins, but shakes his head. “Nevermind, that woman knows everything.”

“She reads a room really well.” You glance up to see the English department’s building ahead and as you step over another dip in the bricks, your heel gets caught in a groove.

Chris reaches out in enough time to catch your titled form, and he pulls you into his chest. Your hands grip his arms as you look down to unwedge your heel, but his arms don’t loosen from around your waist. As you look up at him, you feel your breath leave your body. His hooded eyes watch you closely, as if he's never been this close to you before.

Your fingers squeeze his arms for a moment, wishing you could put more distance between yourself and the warmth of his body. “This might be wrong for me to say, but I really like you (Y/N). And I haven’t felt this way in a long time.”

As his face comes closer to yours, you wish you were any other two people so you could be together. And as your eyes close, his lips meet yours gently, waiting for your reaction. Your hands wrap around the back of his arms, keeping him pressed to you as you mold your lips against his. A tingle trails down your spine and the butterflies in your stomach seems to spread throughout your entire body. Hands slip down to your hips as your lips part, and his eyes watch you closely. You stare back in awe, your body warming against his.

“I-, I-,” you begin when Chris finally lets go of you.

“I’m sorry, you don’t need to-,” he cuts you off as he begins to move toward the building.

“No,” you whisper, your hand tugging on his wrist. “I want this.”

He pauses, looking at you apologetically, “You don’t have to say that.”

“No Chris,” you shake your head as you brush your fingers against his cheek. You straighten your spine, knowing you’ll regret this one day, but not tonight. “Goddammit, I want this.”

A smile tugs on his lips and his arms wrap around you, lifting you off the ground. You giggle into his ear, your arms resting on his shoulders as he carries you into the building. As the door closes, he presses you against the wall, and his mouth meets yours with more urgency. You trail your fingers up to the nape of his neck and tug on his hair as you open your lips. He moans into your mouth, and you smile against his. You already found one of his sweet spots. Hands roam down your waist as you arch your body into his, and trace his lower lip with your tongue.

He pulls away from your mouth long enough to instruct you to jump, and you do just as he asks. Wrapping your legs around him, your lips meet clumsily as his hands hold you to him. You laugh against his cheek and brace yourself on his shoulders as he carries you up the stairs.

When you finally reach the English department, he rests you against the wall as his hands slide under your blazer. You help him pull it off as he carries you to the leather couch. Laying you down gently, your mouths reconnect, and you slide your hands under his suit jacket. Your fingers trace over his abs, causing him to chuckle against your lips. His thigh pushes between your legs as he interlockes your fingers with his and pins you to the couch. His tongue teases your own as his knee brushes against your underwear, touching you right where you want him to. A nearly pornographic moan escapes your mouth, and he pulls back.

"You like that, huh?" he asks, a devilish smirk accompanying his heavy-lidded eyes. You bite your lip and nod. He grinds his leg against you, pulling a whimper from your throat and his smile becomes a toothy grin. "All these beautiful noises from this beautiful mouth," he says as a hand caresses your cheek before tracing your lip, "they're divine."

You two become a mess of friction, heat, and moans until you hear a door open. You grab him quickly, pulling him onto you as you see someone exit an office near the department’s entrance.

“What?” he starts to ask but you shush him quickly.

“Janitor,” you whisper near his ear, and he turns his head to see a man pushing a cart down the hall. He starts laughing but you cover his mouth with your hand as you stare at him with wide eyes. You two stay frozen until the English department’s door slams shut. Chris lets out a loud laugh as he dropa his head on your chest, and you let yourself laugh with him.

He looks up at you, his lips wet and his eyes dark, and whispers, “Let’s take this to my office.”

You nod, and let him lead you to his room. He leaves the lights off, but his blinds are cracked and the street lamp outside of the building casts off enough light to see. His hands guide your hips into the room, and he pushes a folder and chair out of the way before he sits you on his desk. His fingers brush up your thighs before knotting in the sides of your underwear and yanking them down. He pushes your dress up as he kisses you aggressively, his teeth tugging at your bottom lip.

“I want to taste you,” he says, his breath hot against your cheek, and your eyes roll back in anticipation. Hands spread your legs apart as he reaches your cunt, his breath tickling your skin. He kisses the insides of your thighs, slowly moving closer to where you need him.

He starts by licking a long, flat stripe across your folds, pulling a moan from your lips. “You’re already so wet,” he chuckles. His tongue moves in large circles around your clit and leaves you speechless. The circles gradually become smaller, and his tongue works against your clit as your fingers run through his hair. He slows his tongue as one of his fingers circles your entrance and then dips into you. You arch your back, letting out a gasp, before he inserts another finger and curls them into you, finding your g-spot. A breathy moan escapes your lips as he sucks on your clit and quickens the speed of his fingers, and a knot starts in your core.

“Fuck,” you whimper as you stare down at him. He winks up at you as he guides one of your legs over his shoulder, and he continues to work on your sensitive nerve bundle. The tightening in your core becomes strong enough to shake your legs, and Chris sucks on your clit harshly, sending you into bliss. You grip the edge of the desk as you feel your orgasm spread over you. A strangled, "Yes, oh my god yes," echoes through the room as you feel your muscles clench around his fingers. Chris rocks your hips against his face as your toes curls, riding out your climax.

When your legs stop shaking, he rises to your panting lips and kisses them roughly. His hands guide you off his desk as you reach down to palm him through his pants. He bats your hand away, but instead you work on getting his shirt off. Once his shirt hits the ground, you work on his belt as his fingers tug the straps down from your dress. His lips kiss your collarbone before slipping down to your chest, where he massages your breasts gently. His slacks slide down as he sucks your nipple into his mouth, ripping a whimper from your lips.

You grip his hard dick over his underwear and he growls against your skin. Turning you around by your waist, he throws his belongings off his desk and bends you over the edge. His cock rubs against your folds teasingly before his fingers dig into your skin and he slowly pushes inside of you. Once he is completely in, he stays still letting you adjust to him. You wiggle your ass to let him know it is okay to move, and he takes his cue and pulls out of you almost completely before sharply snapping his hips back to you. You let out a surprised moan and it only encourages him to continue thrusting slowly and sharply.

His fingers knot in your hair, forcing your back to arch as he quickens his pace, and you let out a whimper as he finds your g-spot. Your hands grip his desk, and you feel your core tightening again, but before you can revel in your second orgasm Chris pulls out of you. Spinning you around, he pulls your dress over your head. Your lips find each others as his fingers slip between your legs and brush your clit. You throw your head back as his fingers work faster, and he moves his mouth down to your neck, leaving marks where his lips were.

Your second orgasm comes suddenly and powerfully, and he pulls away from your neck to watch your eyes screw shut and your mouth fall open. You fall back against his desk, your body feeling like jelly, and you're afraid you can’t stand yet. He lifts his fingers to his lips, licking them teasingly as your lungs work for air.

“You’re so pretty when you come,” he smirks before he kisses you softly. “Can I have one more, baby?” he asks, pulling you onto your weak feet. You nod at him and he rewards you with a grin. You follow him to the leather couch where he lays back and guides you onto him. You sink down on his thickness slowly, feeling yourself stretch to take all of him. His hands grip your hips as he bites his lip, and the sight of him alone, staring at you with utter lust, proves you right. You aren’t regretting this tonight.

You begin bouncing on him lazily and a low groan leaves his throat, motivating you to move your hips in a figure eight. That only pulls a loud moan from him and encourages you to do it again. You smile at him as he watches you with hooded eyes, and his hands guide you to move quicker. You trail your fingers against his chest and abs, watching his lips tug into a smirk. Giving in, you angle your body forward and you use you hands to steady yourself against his chest to ride him faster. Grinding your clit against his pubic bone causes your core to tighten for the third time that night, and one of his hands grips, and then slaps your ass. You let out a surprised whimper, and he beams up at you.

His moans get louder as you continue to ride him quicker and harder, and you know he's close. His hands grip your thighs, moving you even faster. Angling you just where he wants you, you feel your third orgasm getting closer.

He quickly sits forward, wrapping an arm around your waist, as he holds you against him. “Come for me,” he whispers in your ear as he pulls your hips down and grinds you onto him. Your arms wrap around his neck and your nails dig into his back as your third orgasm crashes over you.

Arching your chest into his you let out a breathy "Oh fuck," and he keeps you grinding against him until your waves of pleasure slow and you come back down. He kisses you hungrily as he pulls you both back on the couch and angles your hips up.

Thrusting into you recklessly, he lets out a series of moans that blends with your oversensitive whimpers. You hold his jaw in your hand as his lips fall apart in an expression of pure ecstasy. Another deep and sharp thrust into you and you feel him twitch and release as he lets out a low groan. He stays in you for another moment, holding you against him before he kisses you gently, letting his hands caress your sides.

When he finally pulls out of you, he lets out a deep sigh. “Well that was fucking amazing,” he says quietly against your hair.

“It was,” you agree as you roll off him.

“Where ya going?” he asks as you manage to stand up.

“Just gonna clean up in the bathroom,” you assure him as you begin to pick up your dress.

“You can wear my shirt,” Chris offers as he sits up. You bite your lip and glance at him hesitantly. He gives you a nod, and you reach down for it and your underwear. Once you're dressed enough to walk down the hall, he calls to you, “Hurry back alright? I’m a cuddler.” You smile and slip out of the room.

You reach the door of the English department before you let out a giggle. You really did that. And Chris even wanted you to stay to cuddle. You lean against the doorway and try to control your excitement. Yet, as you reign your bliss in, a sense of dread settles in your bones. That dread roots itself in you. And it wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

Tags: @irishdancr24 @lostboyinneverland @suz-123 @sanjariti @funlizzie02 @void-imaginations @cryingovershipsthatneversailed @breezykpop @jcc04220 @nys30 @jonsnowisnotdeadthough @guera31 @wildwiccankitty @thelondondreamer5 @patzammit @thefridgeismybestie @ssweet-empowerment

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sopewriters · 7 years ago

Text

Won’t you be (Mine)?

Pairing: Ravi | Wonsik X Reader [Teacher!AU]

Genre: Fluff, humor

Word Count: 2.6K

Warning: Lots of dick jokes. I’m sorry, and they’re all extra lame.

Inspired by the beautiful look Wonsik had going for him in VIXX’s performance of Black Out.

EDIT: i’M CRYING AT WHISPER HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT I’M CRYING

Teaching has always been a stressful job. You know that. And even though you’re just a substitute—carefully handling the job in the main teacher’s absence—you just want the earth to swallow you right up. Just as a small favor, that’s all.

Of course, life must go on. The earth doesn’t love you that much and, honestly, neither does whatever higher power it is out there that thrust you into this life of misery, so you’ll have to deal. Teaching a bunch of freshmen, then, it is.

You wouldn’t mind this so much, very frankly; biology has always been your favorite subject, and it comes to you with an ease only possible of many, many nights of studying, along with a desk romance with your favorite cup of coffee. No, the problem here is the fact that you need to teach a bunch of stupid, giggling teenagers who’re just starting to get the hang of being mature about the basics of humanity: reproduction. And, if that isn’t bad enough, you need to deal with having a huge migraine on top of everything. Like life doesn’t already suck.

So, you’re already in a pretty terrible mood when you show up early for class that day. You angrily curse their teacher and his stupid business trips a couple times in your head for good measure, then immediately flush guiltily because you actually don’t mean it, please don’t die and come take these kids off my hands.

“Hey, Ms. _______!” Some kid calls as he gets inside, and you give him an obligatory wave and smile back, barely managing to hold yourself back from yawning in his face. That’d be weird.

The rest of the students eventually file in, and you squint around the room, dimly cursing whichever entity out there that has managed to make the lights so bright. Well, it looks like everyone’s there, so you’re good to go!

“Hey guys,” You attempt to say warmly, through the pounding headache, “How was your weekend?”

Right. Forgot to mention that: it’s a Monday morning. The perfect combination now, truly, isn’t it?

You get a mixed response, of course, going from ‘brilliant!’ to ‘bullshit’ to ‘why life’. You’re personally inclined to agree with the latter option, though you don’t make your opinion known, choosing to keep it to yourself instead.

As expected, the reactions to what you’re about to teach are sort of the same. You hear a couple of groans—dim and muted from the back—along with a couple of eye-rolls: standard stuff. Of course, there are still those few kids who flush at the mere mention of the topic, and you know they’ll get to the point where they won’t even bat an eye at it, eventually, but…

Annoying.

You start off simple, with the structure of the vagina. Point out the basic stuff, after drawing it on the whiteboard for everyone to see, and answer any genuine questions if they come at you. It’s when you project the diagram of a penis, that the problems begin.

Okay. So it’s not even the class’ fault, you’ll admit.

The door swings open, and this guy with dark hair literally storms his way inside, looking a little angry, a little sad, and 98% done.

You raise an eyebrow at the unexpected intrusion, and mentally cower in your head. Why can the world not leave you alone for once in your life?

“I’m sorry, did you need something?” You snap out irritably, “Class started easily 20 minutes ago, and you clearly don’t seem interested, so please either get inside quietly, or just leave.”

The guy looks surprised, watching you with an obvious ‘are-you-talking-to-me?’ expression that makes you want to roll your eyes. Seriously, you hate students, they should all just take a vacation from school. Forever.

It’s silent when he takes in your words and understanding, finally, that yes, you’re speaking to him. His eyes drift to the whiteboard, before tracing the tired lines of your face, the lingering frown on your lips, and something in his eyes grows alight.

“Why, yes, Ms. ________.” He grins mischievously at you, expression clearing, and your gut sinks, “I have a bone(r) to pick with you!”

You know when it was silent before? Well, it couldn’t beat the eerie stillness of the class now, with all the students staring at the two of you, a mixture of awe and fear swimming in their expressions. And, a lesser person might crack on the pressure, might actually want to leave the class and never look back, with a student, but you are not that person. No.

You crack a smile at the kid, whoever they are, because okay, that was a terrible joke and should never be repeated again, but it’s also kind of funny. You know you might be acting a bit unprofessional, but who’re you kidding, most of your professors in college were actually worse. You’ve seen it.

“What do you need, kid?” You raise an eyebrow at the male, taking in his pink dress shirt and black trousers, briefly wondering why he’s dressed like this, “Since you so obviously want to be a pain in the ass?”

You hear a couple of shy giggles, and you cockily stare down the black-haired intruder, whose smile only widens at your retort.

“Well, that pun was difficult to swallow,” He jokes back, and you need to bite back your smile, headache almost entirely forgotten, “But I recently found out my dick is pi inches long?”

“Wait, what?” You’re thrown off by the sudden change in conversation, “That’s pretty small.”

“Actually, I beg to differ,” He interrupts, smiling privately, “It means it’s not bigger than 3 inches but is also infinite…crazy, right?”

“Nah,” You wave your hand, grinning at him without abandon, “It just means it’s irrational and everyone hates it.”

You hear a couple of chokes in the background, even as he grins fiercely at you, eyes shining bright. Of course, that’s also when you remember you have CommitmentsTM which you should probably be attending to right now.

“Anyway.” You say again, rolling your eyes, “If you’ve got nothing else to say, either take a seat or leave?”

“I guess I’ll see you after class, then?” He smiles at you, the curve of his lips suddenly seeming a lot shyer than before, “Till then, Ms. _______.”

He actually leaves then, and you want to chuck a book at someone but also simultaneously thank him for lessening your stress, even if by just a smidge, and with questionable methods.

“Wow,” Someone calls from the back, “I didn’t think you and Mr. Ravi were that close!”

“Oh, we’re not, actually, I—” Something clicks then. An integral piece from that sentence.

Mr. Ravi?

Suddenly, the formal clothes make more sense. He looked so young, though, there’s no way! But one look at the class’ excited faces confirms that, yes, you just had a dick joke battle with another instructor. Wonderful. Might as well add that to your resume.

“Uh….” You try to wipe the deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression from your face, before the kids can actually pick up on it, “Well, let’s get back to the actual topic, right?”

Despite the embarrassment, the tiny smile on your lips never leaves.

“Busy?” You’re sitting at your desk, eyeing a stack of papers in trepidation, when the door swings open. You lift your head slightly, only to actually stand up, spine ramrod straight, at the sight of the man with black hair from before.

“O-Oh, n-no.” You stutter, making his eyes widen behind his glasses. They’re a new edition, but they really bring out his eyes, not that you’re looking or anything.

“Are you… alright?” His mouth parts in silent understanding, and he smiles bashfully, cheeks pink, “If this is about the thing earlier in class, I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. I was just trying to make you look less… stressed?”

“Uh, no, it’s fine.” You choke out, before sighing burying your head in your hands, “I’m just…kind of “embarrassed, to be honest. I didn’t even know you were a teacher!”

“Hardly anyone ever does, the first time they see me.” He quips, before hesitating at the door, “Can I…um, can I come inside?”

“Y-Yeah, of course!” You say hurriedly, and he slips inside, “Why’d you come to class earlier?”

“Oh,” He looks faintly surprised, the slightest tint of pink highlighting his cheeks, “Right. The principal asked me to send for you.”

“Oh, are you his secretary?” You try to ignore what the calling could mean, “I didn’t know—”

“Uh, no, I teach English.” He interrupts quickly, before stammering out, “G-Gosh, I’m sorry, didn’t mean to be rude…”

“No, you weren’t—I mean, it wasn’t…” Floundering for words, you decide to just give up already, “You’re fine.”

Fine as hell, actually but, no, bad thoughts.

“Uh…right.” He says, looking just as uncomfortable as you feel, and why do you need to mess everything up again? “Well, can I see you at lunch, then?”

“Lunch?” You repeat stupidly and, at his nod, bob your head up and down rapidly, “yEAH OF COURSE.”

He doesn’t make any odd comment about your sudden incapacity to function; just gives you a tiny little grin and walks out.

It’s after he leaves that you scream into your book. Not for too long, though, because your next class is arriving soon.

You’re reasonably happy, you decide, as you reflect back on the events of the day, sipping on some orange juice on your couch at home. The meeting with the principal went well; he wants to take you on as a teacher, permanently, based on your good work. And even if those kids were literal devils in the making, you wanted the job.

To add to the wonderful list, you had lunch with Ravi, without accidentally spilling something on yourself, or on him, or on anyone. You’d count that as a win.

Even better, he wants to have lunch with you tomorrow too. And the day after. And the day after that. And forever, and you guys can get married and have two kids and a hamster or, wait, maybe a turtle because those are cuter and—

You cut yourself off, blush rocking your face. You’re getting ahead of yourself, and this crush is getting way out of hand. You literally just met the guy today! But his hair, and his eyes, and his lips, Christ—

But, as the days pass by, slowly but definitely, you start to like Wonsik more and more. That’s his real name, apparently, not Ravi.

“Call me Wonsik.” He tells you one day, as you visit him in his classroom, “The kids call me Ravi because they think it’s cool.”

You find that it is cool, but Wonsik is even sweeter. You don’t tell him that, though.

“What’re you doing?” You ask curiously, as you lounge in one of the students’ chairs after school. Wonsik is hunched over stacks of paper, frowning at the little bundle he’s reading over.

You don’t admit it out loud, but he looks really cute like that, tapping the pencil against his lips absent-mindedly, lost in thought. He snaps out of it at your question, though, and you’re a little sorry to see it go. But it makes you feel better to have his eyes on you instead, just as intense.

“I gave the sophomores an assignment on Hamlet.” He says distractedly, “On Act III, Scene III.”

“What?” You frown, “What was that part about again?”

“It’s the part where Hamlet nearly kills Claudius, but doesn’t.” He explains, before catching himself and staring at you with wide-eyed disbelief, “Wait, you’ve read Hamlet?”

“Well, yeah.” You shrug uncomfortably, before diverting the topic, like your blabber-mouth is wont to do, “And anyways, isn’t that the circumcision scene?”

“The what—” Wonsik manages to choke out, but you cut in quickly.

“It’s a tricky thing, it is.” You say brightly, trying to avoid his flushed gaze, “Have to do it right, else you can nearly chop the poor thing’s ding-dong right off—”

“Ding-dong?” He finally gets in a word edgewise with a surprised laugh.

“Well, yeah.” You blush, but your mouth lacks a filter, “Apparently it’s a superstitious thing, something about not being savable or something if you don’t get it done—”

“Uh, ______,” Wonsik grimaces, “Can we not talk about potential castration? Please?”

“Oh right.” You say awkwardly as he forces a tight smile at you, before going off on a tangent about something else entirely, as he turns his attention back to his papers.

He’s smiling though, looking entirely less stressed than before, and you find you can’t stop the mirror grin when you notice it. It feels nice, spending time with him like this, especially with your busy schedules.

“Lunch tomorrow?” He asks, catching you by surprise, and you stare wordlessly at him, mouth parted in shock, “I…I know it’s not a weekday and stuff, but…”

“Are…” You catch your voice, just barely, before croaking out, “Are you asking me on a date?”

“M-M-M-AYBE.” He stutters, and you find yourself staring wide-eyed at the mess of a man sitting across you, “Y-Yes?”

“Oh my gosh.” You breathe out, just as he flushes red-hot in embarrassment and buries his head in his arms.

“I’m sorry.” He moans pitifully, making you gape at how different he’s being, “I messed it up!”

“Hey, weren’t you all confident and chic and stuff?” You inwardly wince at your wording, and Wonsik looks up at you, looking entirely discomforted, “I mean...I, uh, I’d be happy to?”

It’s not supposed to come out as a question, and this is going for bad to worse, aND ALARM BELLS ARE RINGING, THIS IS AN EMERGENCY, EVACUATION ADVISED—

“I WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU!” You finally screech, unable to take the voices in your head; only after you’ve screamed it out, do you realize how it must sound. You slowly trail your eyes upwards, meeting Wonsik’s surprised cocoa ones—and he’s smiling.

“You’re cute.” He reaches forward to pinch the lobe of your ear teasingly, and you whine out in embarrassment.

“That was really sudden, okay?” You point out logically, “A-And besides, weren’t you the one who was too busy stuttering to even ask?”

“W-Well…” He draws out in an incoherent mutter, “yourereallyprettyandrejectionsoshy.”

“What?”

“You’re really pretty and smart and stuff, so I wasn’t sure you’d want to go out with me.” He sighs, finally, “Happy?”

“W-Wow.” You say, “But yeah. You’re the one who’s totally out of my league.”

“You’re kidding.” He rolls his eyes, and you don’t feel like arguing with him, so you reach out and pluck off his wire-rimmed glasses with your fingers.

“Hey!” He cries, reaching out for them, but it’s too late. You’ve figured everything out, and you can’t hide your shock at the revelation.

“These are fake?!” You cry out in dismay, “I trusted you!”

“They look really cool!” He defends himself, though he doesn’t deserve to, “My friend told me they look nice on me!”

Well, they do, but that’s not the point.

“You’re so basic.” You shake your head solemnly, “I’m embarrassed.”

“Well, you’re going to have to bear with this basic person for a long time, if I can help it.” Wonsik smiles at you, but it’s not bright and dazzling; no, it’s demure, quiet, yet speaks volumes. You reach out to tangle his pretty, pretty fingers with your own.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Written By: (dying) Midnight^^

#kkreationsnet #kreativewritersnet #wonsik fluff #ravi fluff #vixx wonsik #vixx ravi #vixx fluff #vixx ravi fluff #vixx wonsik fluff #ravi scenarios #kim wonshik #vixx kim wonshik #kim wonshik fluff

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mochitaiia · 8 years ago

Text

Check Yes or No

apheeweek day four: Book(s) + Coffee shop AU + Estmonaice

Lucile is very forgetful. Eduard and Emil aren’t sure what to make of her.

(also on ao3)

GOD talk about me being indecisive. Monaco is my favorite Hetalia girl so I want to show her love, and I also want to write every Nordic/Estonia ship (only got Sweden left now), so I decided to combine my wants into a cute polyamory sort of thing.

I hope my determination to accomplish both my goals is enjoyable!

Everyday she forgets her book, and everyday Eduard chases after her to return it.

He doesn’t know her name. He makes the drinks and cleans tables; he never takes orders and relays them. Today again, Eduard hears his coworker tell him the young lady wants a caramel frappe with extra foam and two chocolate chip cookies. He prepares her order the same as always, and he passes it off to her with a friendly smile and a nod which she doesn’t notice.

Her nose is so deep in her book that she can barely walk a straight line to her usual table. Eduard raises a brow and watches her go before he busies himself preparing the next order.

Half an hour will pass before she stands and throws her coffee cup away and makes her way towards the exit. Eduard excuses himself from behind the counter, resulting in Emil giving him a sour look for abandoning his post (he’ll forgive him after their shifts end. He always does), and he scoops up the abandoned book and rushes out the door to catch her arm.

“You left this again.”

She looks genuinely surprised every single time, and her surprised expression contorts her face in all the right ways to form something Eduard can’t quite describe. The closest he can come is to label it cute. She’s cute when surprised. Her expression mellows out into a calm smile, and she takes the book from his hands. Her gloves brush his fingertips and he resists, every time, from grabbing her hand when she says a polite, “Thank you, sir.”

She leaves, and he returns to work, and Emil grumbles at him, and he apologizes and bats his eyes, and Emil has to keep from blushing which Eduard finds endearing, and he says as much, and Emil checks to make sure no customers are looking when he swats Eduard’s arm for the remark, and Eduard chuckles, and waves off the feigned attack, and Emil wonders aloud why they’re dating, and Eduard bites back a million things he could possibly say, and their day continues on until work ends.

Emil leans against the post and asks, “Why does that girl forget her book so much?” while Eduard checks his phone for the time. Their bus will be there in seven minutes. He stuffs his phone in his pocket before he sits on the bench.

“I’m not sure,” he replies. “She might have elderly memory problems.”

Emil snorts. “She’s so small, and young-looking. She can’t have grandpa-like memory issues.”

“Small and young-looking like you?”

“Buzz off,” snaps Emil, “I’m eighteen now. I’m not young anymore.”

“To me, you are,” says Eduard with a smile. “I’m three years older than you. You’re a young’in!”

“Please god, do not start sounding like my grandmother.” Emil gags and shudders, presumably at the mental picture of dating somebody like his grandmother. Just to bother him, Eduard wheezes an old person saying, and he delights in the complaint Emil gives him in reply. Messing with his boyfriend is too fun to resist.

Emil cuts off his amusement by speaking up with another question. “Can I ask you something important?”

Eduard rests his elbow on his knee and chin in his hand. “Now?” He glances at his watch. “We’ve got two minutes ‘til the bus. Can it wait until home?”

Emil seems to debate it in his head before he shrugs and nods. “Yeah, we can wait until home.”

---

The second they’re in the door to their shared apartment, Emil asks, “Do you like that girl?”

“Which girl? I know a lot of girls and I fear one might jokingly get mad at me if I say I don’t like her.” Eduard grins and pushes Elizabeta’s face out of his mind. She would never seriously injure him. On purpose. Unless he did something to make her angry, to which she’d likely be justified in injuring him.

Emil rolls his eyes. “Gee, I dunno,” his voice drips in sarcasm, “maybe the girl you run after everyday to return her book.”

Confused blue eyes appear in his memory and Eduard mulls it over. She is cute, and based on the books he rushes to return to her she’s either an avid reader of classic literature or she’s taking an AP English course at the local college. Perhaps both. The idea of talking with another ace student excites him somewhat, and it’s with that he says, “Well, somewhat.”

Once he flops onto the couch and kicks off his shoes messily, Emil rises a brow. “Somewhat?”

“Somewhat.” Eduard plops down in the empty couch space. Emil scoots and rests his head in his lap, and Eduard languidly tangles his fingers in the smooth slivery blonde hair. He’s still in awe that it isn’t a dye job, and Emil’s hair is naturally such a beautiful shade. He smiles a little when he looks down at him. “What, you jealous?”

“Not jealous,” Emil avoids eye contact, “more... curious. Hey, you know I’m okay with you dating other people too if they catch your eye, right? I don’t mind you being poly.”

Eduard hums and massages Emil’s scalp, resulting in a satisfied purr from the latter. It makes him giggle at how cat-like Emil is. “I’m aware. I just haven’t had any interest in anybody-”

“Until now,” interrupts Emil, refocusing eye contact.

“... until now,” admits Eduard. It’s a bit embarrassing to say aloud, that he has a crush on the mystery girl, but Emil looks at him evenly with a serene smile and it relieves some of the nervous butterflies dancing in his stomach. “So, you wouldn’t mind if tomorrow when she forgets her book, I ask her out?”

“If you don’t, I’ll ask her for you.”

Eduard sticks his tongue out at Emil, and Emil returns it.

---

The following day when she orders her drink, she doesn’t have a book. Instead, she carries a notebook. Eduard flushes a light shade when he gives her the frappe, because instead of staring down at a book she makes eye contact and smiles at him. After she goes to sit at her usual table, Emil leans into his ear and says, “I knew it.”

“Knew what?” whispers Eduard back.

Emil points at her when she isn’t looking. “I think she’s into you. She was probably leaving the book so that you’d go an’ talk to her everyday.” Eduard scoffs. Whilst he does have self-confidence, he doesn’t find himself attractive enough for a pretty young woman like her to put forth that much effort to attract his attention. Emil eyes him for a second and shrugs, returning to the register to greet new customers.

Half an hour later she stands and throws her coffee cup away. Again, she leaves her materials behind. She hesitates at the door and glances back at the table, and Eduard tilts his head. She clearly can see her notebook sitting open at the table she vacated, but she doesn’t move to get it. Her eyes turn and inadvertently catch his, and if Eduard’s not mistaken a faint pink tints her cheeks and she rushes out the front door, leaving the notebook behind.

Eduard glances at Emil, and Emil shrugs. He slides out from behind the counter and approaches the table.

Written on the open page of the notebook are six simple words.

Do you like me?

Yes [ ] No [ ]

Eduard blinks, then he blushes himself. He can hear Emil snort, and when he looks up he shoots him a dismayed look at the public mockery. Emil half-grins and points at the door. When Eduard follows the line his boyfriend’s finger makes, his eyes go wide because standing just outside the doors is the mystery woman.

Eduard glances down at the notebook, and back up at her. She glances away and taps the sidewalk with the tip of her boot. He doesn’t even look at the page when he pulls out a pen and scribbles a thick X in the box indicating “Yes”, and he hurriedly collects the notebook and all but sprints out the door and onto the sidewalk.

“Ma’am-”

“Lucile,” she says. Her glasses are perched right on the edge of her nose, and Eduard instinctively adjusts his. He looks up again and catches Emil’s eye from behind the counter. His boyfriend raises a brow and offers a thumbs up, and Eduard nods a little before he looks back to her.

“Okay,” he says, “Lucile. You forgot your notebook.” He shuts it and gives it back to her. Before she can open it, or say anything, he continues. “Mine and Emil’s shift ends around five today. If you aren’t busy...”

Lucile’s face again contorts into something confused. Quickly it’s replaced by a soft smile, and she dips her head. “I look forward to it, Eduard.” He catches her free hand, and with a grin he presses his lips to the back of it. Both of them flush a light pink, but their grins outweigh any embarrassment to be felt.

He watches her go until she rounds the corner, and as soon as he walks in he hears Emil call, loud enough for the entire coffee shop to hear, “My boyfriend just landed a date.” Eduard resists the urge to playfully scowl at Emil’s amused grin, and instead he ducks his head shyly when a few customers whoop and cheer.

Once behind the counter, he pulls Emil’s arm and leans down to whisper in his ear, “I’m gonna make a big deal out of your birthday in this shop for revenge for that.” Eduard smirks and presses a kiss to Emil’s temple when his boyfriend sputters and protests.

Perhaps a date to the bakery down the street would be a good date for tonight. Eduard smiles to himself as he gets back to fixing coffees, his mind full of ideas for not just his boyfriend, but his girlfriend as well.

#Hetalia #Axis Powers Hetalia #apheeweek #APH Estonia #APH Iceland #APH Monaco #Estice #Estmona #Estmonaice #My fics

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