#uni student au

[gunwoo-bh]

The Night Shift - Part 2 [Min Yoongi x f!Reader]

MIN YOONGI x F!READER UniStudent!Yoongi AU SUMMARY: You chose a boring, quiet job at your campus's 24-hour library for a reason: it kept you away from drama, gossip, and parties. It was positively uneventful. Until it wasn't. Warnings: some more swearing, some fluff?, it's pretty tame, teasing (y'all i don't know how to do warnings, i'll learn) A/N: WOW! Everyone, thank you SO much for all the love on that first chapter?? (is that what I'm calling it, I'm not sure) I never expected that, and I'm so grateful so thank you so much! Here's a continuation. I don't know what I'm doing exactly with this, if it's gonna turn into a fic or something but I'm just enjoying it for what it is. Pardon the grammar mistakes, english isn't my first language!

THE NIGHT SHIFT

PART 2

Yoongi’s mother calls a cab for you, amidst your polite protest. She insists, and you relent. She’s far too sweet, but the mere idea of you staying in this restaurant any longer under Yoongi’s inquisitive stare is too much. He stands beside his mother, cleaning up behind the counter while listening to her end of the phone call to the cab company. He’s eavesdropping on whatever conversation you two may have once she finishes her call. You find it easier to stare at your own hands rather than have a conversation or make eye contact with him. 

“Taxi is on his way,” your attention snaps back to her, “and it’ll make it so much easier for you.”

You bow politely. “Thank you, I appreciate it.”

She playfully shrugs, “Nonsense. No way I can let you carry all of this by yourself.” Her smile is warm and kind. You can’t help but smile right back. She turns to her son, nudging him.

“Go help your dad.” His eyes meet his mom’s, nodding and hesitantly walking to the kitchen with one final glance to the both of you. She looks back to you with the warmest smile. “Do you know each other?” 

The question startles you, glancing from her to the spot Yoongi had stood a moment ago. “Oh. Oh! Well, not exactly. We just go to the same school. I’ve seen him around.” You try to make it sound as casual as you can and not like you had just spent breakfast that morning trying to figure out his name.

She kept looking at you like there was more she wished she could say, but you were not just someone who went to the same school as her son. You were a customer. So she held back. She perks up, looking over your shoulder, making you follow her sight line. The cab. A wave of relief washes over you, prompting you to grab both bags of food. She helps keep the door open for you, following you out until she has you safely seated in the taxi. Making sure the food is safe, you grab your phone with one hand to text your friends.

You [8:59 PM]: On my way back. You’ll never guess what happened.

You’re about to put it away when the text bubbles appear, snorting at your friend’s curiosity. 

Eunji [8:59 PM]: Don’t tease us. Unnie.

Hwayoung [9:00 PM]: You’re gonna wait to tell us until we’re home, aren’t you?

You [9:00 PM]: (shrugging and winking emoji) 

The taxi ride doesn’t take very long. Carefully, you bring the bags inside and up the elevator to your apartment. With some difficulty, you finally make it inside, kicking your shoes off and getting into your slippers. You can hear noise in the kitchen right around the corner, peeking your head around it when you meet Eunji’s eyes. She runs to help you, curiosity radiating off her while taking the bags out of your hands. You saunter to the kitchen island and lean on it while the girls start taking the food out. 

“So,” you start, “I’m gonna be dramatic for a second, but I will get over it.” They nod, mindlessly putting food out while simultaneously listening to you. “We can never order or send me in there because the people who own the place are, drumroll please, Min Yoongi’s parents.” Both girls have their mouths open in shock, the quietest you’ve ever seen them with news of this kind. “Okay, being dramatic? Over. But seriously, what are the odds? Oh, and did I mention I think he works there? How do I know? Because he was there.” 

You sigh dramatically, shuffling over to the couch. “So, what booze did you buy, and can I join?”

Your friends chuckle, knowing very well that, given the chance to drink, you will refuse it. “Also, let’s just get this movie night started. I need a distraction.” You all get ready to sit down in the living room to start your rom-com evening, trying to keep your mind focused on anything but the last 24 hours. 

Min Yoongi has a reason for everything. He’s practical like that. And that’s why he keeps things close to the vest except with a few people. But he never expected a freak out of this magnitude coming from his friends. He’s exasperated, glaring at Seokjin as he sits amongst his friends, listening to him go over what just happened. Yoongi usually goes to the library during the night when insomnia hits him because not only can he avoid the large crowds of students, but he also gets some time alone. 

When he went to the library this morning to get some work done, he had never anticipated his friend to find him at the crack of dawn. Yoongi should have known that glancing back to you, the pretty night shift desk clerk, would come bit him in the ass. Because since 6 AM he hasn’t stopped hearing about it, and it is nearly lunchtime now. Seokjin hasn’t stopped retelling the story the moment one of their friend joins the table.

“Yaaaaah…” Yoongi groans, rubbing his face. “Either tell it once but stop telling every single time one of them shows up.”

The boys laugh at their friend’s frustration. His childhood friend Namjoon rubs his shoulder, “They’re just teasing…you never get caught checking girls out. Let us have some fun.” 

Yoongi swore he would keep his somewhat silly one-sided crush on you to himself. Why? Because of this. He knows that they’re being playful, and if he was to be honest with them about his crush, they would most likely help him out. And that is exactly why he never wanted to say a thing. He didn’t need help. Because he didn’t want it. Yoongi never wanted to be given hope that his interest could be reciprocated, so watching you from afar made more sense to him. Until this morning. When Seokjin had to make a big deal of Yoongi looking back to you. 

He knows this will die down, at least for tonight, but he knows his friends better. Especially the few in their friend group who are more likely to involve themselves in playing matchmaker. He knows one thing. He loves these guys so much, he would be willing to do anything for them, but matchmakers? They are not. Seokjin and Namjoon may have girlfriends, but they never stopped wanting to set their friends up on blind dates or playing matchmaker at every turn. 

Yoongi watches them tease their other friends for being single, which then turns into the single guys teasing how sappy the taken ones have gotten since being in relationships. He licks his lips, trying to hide the grin threatening to grace his features, but he’s amused at how easily a subject is brought up and then forgotten. He knows he won’t live it down, but for the moment, he just might.

Now in his third year of university, he’s managed to keep a pretty low profile. He knows how lucky he is to have come into this with some friends, meeting a few new ones along the line, which now formed his tight-knit group of friends. He didn’t need more, but watching his closest friends enter relationships made him crave something similar. He’s happy for his friends, though. If anybody deserve to be happy in a relationship? It’s them. All of them.

He looks down at his phone and sighs, standing up, “Gotta go. Work.” 

Yoongi is clearing a table when he hears the door open and shut, his mother thanking the departing customers as he smiles fondly at her kind tone. No wonder she works the front and his father works in the kitchen, she has the best social skills of their entire family. Yoongi is lucky enough to have inherited some of her skills, although he prefers the kitchen with his father, too. 

Digging in his apron for his phone, he sighs before stretching his back and looking down at the time. He shakes his head when he realizes there are still a few hours left to the night. Grabbing the tray of plates and cutlery, he returns to the back to wash them while his father prepares a pick-up order. He stops midway through his task to help prepare the order, putting the food in the containers and making it look visually appealing. He and his father are working silently when his mother comes in the back.

“Honey,” both of them raise their heads, “the pick-up order is here.”

“Mhm~.” His father nods, and Yoongi begins bagging all the items. He ties the bags neatly, ensuring everything is ready to go. He slips a menu pamphlet into the bag and nods to his father once they are both satisfied. Grabbing both bags, he heads out of the back, nearly bumping into his mother, who immediately tries to reach for one of the heavy bags. He attempts to protest, but one light glare makes him concede, handing her the lighter of the two as he follows her. Carefully avoiding tripping over the step leading to the main counter, he looks up at his mother, but his eyes immediately snap to the young woman standing across from her.

It’s you. 

His entire body is rooted to the ground, staring ahead for what feels like way too long when you make eye contact with him. Shit. Why are his hands sweaty all of a sudden? He places the second bag on the counter, licking his lips over and over before busying himself with a task. Mindlessly, he grabs a cloth to wipe the main counter and display case, pretending to pay no mind to your conversation. Yoongi feels his heart pulsating as he listens to his mother call a taxi for you. 

As he attempts to get closer, barely reaching his mother’s side, he gets gently elbowed, which snaps his attention to her, “Go help your dad.” And just like that, he retreats to the kitchen with one final look over his shoulder at you. 

He releases a shaky breath, leaning against the wall before focusing back on the dishes he had abandoned earlier. He’s lost in thought when two hands come and rest on his shoulders, startling him. Eyes wide, he looks to his mother and releases a sigh of relief, “You scared me…” She hums but has a mischievous look, and he immediately shakes his head, “No,” he adds, “mom, don’t…”

His father looks up to mother and son, brows furrowed, “She said you go to school together…” 

Shaking his head, Yoongi sighs, “Mom, we just go to the same school…” 

His mom goes silent, staring at him as he avoids her eyes. She squeezes his shoulders affectionately and kisses the back of his head, “I’m going to lock the doors, why don’t you let us clean up, mhm? Go back home.” 

It’s his turn to grab her shoulders, rubbing them gently, “No, it’ll go quicker if I help you. Let me take some leftovers over for the boys; that’ll make them happy.” He feels her pat his head, making him grin. “I’ll start cleaning…”

2 AM in the library for sure is quiet. No disturbances. No chaos. Just silence and the occasional clicking of keys on a laptop, scribbling of pen on paper, or the occasional book dropping from a shelf. It’s all so familiar, and nothing about it catches you off guard anymore. Nearly a week has passed since your first meeting with Min Yoongi, and the excitement over the entire matter had finally dwindled. You hadn’t seen him again on campus, or at the library for that matter, and you can’t even lie to yourself; you’re mildly disappointed. 

You will note, though, that Namjoon has been reaching out to you while in your class. Well, reaching out is quite literally a reach; more like he has been saying hello to you, holding the door, or acknowledging you in the halls. It makes you wonder if this is just a coincidence, but letting your already overthinking brain rest seems like the best solution. No point in reading into something that just isn’t a thing.

Right?

You’re on your second lap around for the night, taking your sweet time since there is no homework waiting for you downstairs. You’re cleaning up a table, completely lost in your head, when you hear someone clearing their throat, startling you to twist your body around in one swift movement. 

No freaking way. 

“Hi.” Yoongi stands before you, and you’re mouthing the air, unable to find your words. “I need your help finding a book.”

Speak, damn it. Use your words. 

“Uh,” great start, “which one?” Your mouth feels so dry as he shows you the title on his phone. You lean forward a little to read it better, recognizing the textbook he was looking for. “Oh, wasn’t this what you were looking for last time?”

His eyes widen, shocked you’d remember, “Mhm. It is.” At your confused look, he adds, “It wasn’t there last time. So…” he trails off. 

You hum, biting the inside of your cheek, “Follow me?”

You abandon the stack of books on the table, walking towards the stairs to the third floor. You can feel him following behind you. Not only is your mind racing but so is your heart. You reach the third floor without any mishap like you tripping over your own feet. Yoongi follows closely behind you, keeping up with your fast pace as you whip past aisle after aisle. You know exactly where you’re going, and it’s obvious. 

Slowing down, you start looking up until your eyes light up when you see exactly what it is you’re looking for, and the sight makes the corner of Yoongi’s lips curl in the slightest. You reach up at the very tip of your toes to grab it, looking it over to make sure it was the right copy and also in one piece. You remember his presence when you face him and extend the book to him, Yoongi reaching to grab it from you, fingers brushing in the exchange. 

“I’m sorry it was out for so long. I hope you didn’t have an urgent need for it.” He shakes his head while you speak.

“No, it’s mostly personal curiosity.” This makes you smile. “And boredom.” You giggle, and the sound makes his chest tighten. He did that. He made you laugh.

“Well, glad I could help.” You both stand there in the middle of the aisle, him holding onto that book like a lifeline and you with your hands now in the pockets of your cardigan, playing with your student ID to keep yourself from freaking out. 

He steps aside after a moment, letting you move first as you both begin your descent back to the main floor. You tell yourself you’ll get a moment to breathe when he checks the book out and leaves because that’s all there is left to do. He hesitates when he walks past the main desk. You’ve settled back in the chair, pretending not to care that he’s still around. But you watch him at the self-checkout counter, strands of hair falling in his eyes while he digs out his student ID to scan it. 

He’s handsome, and you hate how your focus moves from his face to his broad shoulders, lean but athletic physique, to his hands. You feel just how fast your heart is beating when you press your hand against your chest. The familiar ‘ding’ of the self-checkout catches your attention as he steps back, waiting on the small piece of paper printing. He snatches it and slips it between the pages of the book, glancing back to you. 

For a moment, you think he’s just going to continue turning around to leave, but he instead walks toward where you are sitting. Your mouth goes desert dry until he stops just shy of walking straight into the desk, “Uh,” he starts, “wanted to say thanks for the help.”

All you do is nod for a moment, humming, “Yeah, of course…anytime.”

Your eyes are trained on his lips and the way he’s chewing them, but you notice the way his brows furrow while looking down to where your laptop is, “What are those?” You quickly look to where his focus is, noticing the remnants of your previous adventure to the vending machine.

You immediately blush, mildly embarrassed, “Oh, uh, those are what’s left of my cheap attempt at a snack. I left home in a hurry, I forgot my lunch…” you admit. 

He doesn’t say a thing, but he remains focused like he’s in the deepest train of thought before nodding to himself, “Well, thanks again. You have a good night.”

You sit up in your chair, mouthing the air, “Oh, yeah, you too…”

And just like that…he’s gone. 

And you wish he wasn’t. What an odd feeling it is to want a stranger’s company. 

You’re absent-minded for the next little while, lost in your own thoughts. You’re overthinking every single minute of that interaction with him to a point where the only way you can distract yourself is to take a walk around the library to take your mind off of it. You return to the second floor to finish the earlier task Yoongi interrupted, lazily returning the books to their rightful spot. Anything becomes a task to distract yourself. You don’t even notice the time pass until you get a text, phone buzzing in your pocket. Instead of looking at it, you snap your head to the clock on the wall. 

You gasp. 5 AM?! 

That much time had passed since 2 AM. You put the book cart away and head downstairs to do one final check. In absolute disbelief that you lost so much time being in your head that you don’t notice the new item sitting on your laptop. Only when you return to pack your things do you finally take notice. 

The first time you walk past it, you don’t clock it, you think, but the second time, the bright orange colour catches your attention from the corner of your eyes, enough to make you stop, frown, double take, and step up to your laptop. Placed right in the middle of it sits a fruit. 

A tangerine. 

You’re confused, looking around to see if anyone you know could be the reason why this fruit is sitting there, but your attention turns to the blue post-it note under the tangerine instead. Grabbing the fruit in your one hand, you take the note in the other and read the message left on it. 

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your skin suddenly feels warm, heat rising from your chest to your neck and, finally, your face. If you were to look at yourself in the mirror right now, you’re certain you’d look funny to anyone walking by. You immediately cover your face with the hand holding onto the note, looking at the tangerine in the other. You do a full 360 to make sure no one is looking at you while you’re standing there, giggling to yourself before you take one final look at the note. 

Night shifts are tough…tangerines are good for energy, and for a snack. 

MYG

Again, thank you everybody and I hope you enjoy this part too!

Post separator credit to @hyuneskkami

[meltinii]

hualian fits!

[ohitslen]

Living together.

The snail video if you are interested :)

[narudoodles]

Day 4 & 5 : on a date / canon divergence (modern AU) 🍂🍁🍂🌿

[alcorian-wizard]

just a single dad(uncle????) tryna get by

BUT HAPPY TAUNNIVERSARY!!!!! IT'S EXACTLY HALF MY AGE IT'S ABSOLUTELY CRAZY (it's old enough to learn algebra,,,) hope everyone's enjoying themselves today!!!

[buckyalpine]

Student Bucky

Shy Beefy Student Bucky x Professor Reader 

No thots, just 

He’s so smitten with his professor, always mesmerized with anything you say, gazing at you with heart eyes while you deliver your lectures. He could listen to you speak for hours, always finding a seat at the very front of the large hall so he doesn’t miss a word. 

He’s too shy to ever raise his hand and participate which is upsetting considering he’s on of the brightest students in your class. You always toss him a soft smile when you see him, adoring the little blush that follows after; it’s even worse when you compliment his papers. 

Every time he thinks about you, his mind ends up going to less than holy places and his hand finds itself down his pants. He can’t help it, thinking about your pretty body in those suits and skirts, how gorgeous you’d look spread out on your desk. You’re so brilliant and pretty and sweet and he isn’t sure how many times its been but his sheets are messy but he’s still so hard. 

He almost has a heart attack when you ask if he’d like to come on board a research project your doing. Obviously he’d never say no but your doe eyes looking up at him are too much and he can only nod in response. 

A few late nights and not so innocent touches later 

He’s so shy, he’s not even aware of how his size engulfs you under him, all his focus set on making you feel so good, giving you all the pleasure you deserve. 

“Does-does it feel good for you?” He asked timidly, biting down on his bottom lip, keeping his moans down, abs tensed from holding his body back from releasing too quickly. He can feel his cock throbbing, his orgasm already at the base of his length.

“So good baby, so so good”  You moan, your arms and legs wrapped around his body, the both of you in the middle of your large bed, all clothes tossed off, nothing separating you. “Making me feel so good baby”

The pet name makes him feral as he preens, adjusting his hips so he can fuck the very depths of your soul making you see stars. He maneuvers your legs higher up on his waist, loving the way your ankles are locked around his lower back. You let your hands wander around his body, clawing at the muscles on his back, and holding onto his biceps. 

“M’I doing okay?” He pants against your skin, hesitantly bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning you against the mattress. All you can do is moan and nod, the tip of his cock hitting that sensitive spot just right, your arousal making a creamy mess all along his veiny girthy shaft. “Yeah? M’making you feel good?” 

“You’re-so-thick-oh God” You cry out between thrusts, gasping at the stretch while he blushes, keeping his face hidden from you.

“I am?”

You giggle at his shyness, kissing his temple, finding his soft sweetness endearing.

“So thick baby, cock stretching me so good”

“You like it?”

“So fucking good James”

“M’gonna cum” He whines out, his pace growing sloppy but he doesn’t want to stop, he wants this night to last (not realizing it was the first of many). You gasp when he pulls out and buries his face between your legs. He laps at your arousal, mixed with his precum, your sensitive cunt soaking his scruffy cheeks. 

“Wan you to cum first” He shoves two fingers into your sopping core, thrusting and curling them till your screaming, your thighs trapping him in. 

“JAMES” 

“Say-say my name” He lets out a broken moan, growling when he feels your hand tug at his roots, his eyes rolling back. “You taste so good”

“You like that sweet boy? Like when I moan your name?” Your back arches off the bed as he suckles on your swollen clit, your body convulsing as pleasure consumes you. He laps up every drop you give him, not giving you a second to catch your breath; he flips you over with ease, bringing your ass all the way up and shoves his cock back in.

“F-FUCK JA-MES” you claw at the sheets while his large hands grip your hips, slamming your ass back on him to meet his thrusts, his heavy balls hitting your throbbing clit each time.

“You feel so good, don’t wanna pull out” he moaned, throwing his head back, nearly whimpering when he feels you flutter and clench around his swollen cock, your second orgasm already barrelling towards you.

“Can-can I cum in you?” He’s asking permission but he doesn’t know if he’ll have the willpower to pull out if you said no. He’s never felt so good, his cock harder and more sensitive than ever, your pussy swallowing every Inch he gives.

“Cum in me sweet boy” you slur out, letting him man handle you, getting off on how soft and sweet he is, a stark contrast to the way he fucked like an animal.

“Cum with me” he cries out, snaking his hand around to rub your clit, letting his heavy body collapse on top of you, rutting into you, letting his cock rub against your sweet spot. “M’gonna cum so much for you, fuck”

He gives you a few more harsh thrusts before he moans loudly in the back of your neck, his hands reaching out to grab something, locking with yours.

You both lay panting in a post sex haze, his warm cum making you thighs sticky. It doesn’t take long to feel him get hard inside you again, a low rumble emitting from his chest when you clench around him. He slowly drags his cock out before pushing it back in, letting his cum squirt out onto the sheets.

“Can I?” He asks softly, between gently thrusts, wrapping his arms around you when you nod, taking his time to savour your soft body wrapped around his large one. “Don’t wanna leave, you feel so good”

“We have all night baby, all night”

[introcoryo]

botany major!katniss, who isn’t so good with her words, so she gifts you flowers that correlate with what she’s feeling. you walk hand in hand through the woods as she points out different plants, rambling on about how to recognize various species and their distribution patterns.

fine arts major!peeta, working tirelessly at his family’s bakery, making personalized latte art which leaves him with huge tips at the end of the day. all of his peers recognize you as the inspiration for all of his assignments, your features taking up every bit of his sketchbook.

mechanical engineering major!gale, his schedule so full and busy but always making time to see you daily. you’re always the first to hear about how he did on a particular exam, cuddled up as you watch nature documentaries.

aquatic biology major!finnick, known around campus as the university heartthrob. he spends most of his free time at the docks or the beach, feet always bare and buried underwater, occasionally splashing you playfully. suntanning and writing your initials in the sand is how your dates usually go.

athletic training major!johanna, who caresses your sleeping features and plants a small kiss on your forehead before leaving for her morning run. she teasingly flexes her muscles while you’re applying kinesiology tape on her body.

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ lawstudent!jimin ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹

series m.list // taglist

friends to lovers / post break-up (oc is going thru a break-up)

uni au (law students)

fluff

//

it feels like jin has been yapping in your ear forever. if not forever, at least a good 15 minutes has passed since this horrific mock trial finished. you’re still here—taking his shit. 

truth be told, it isn’t really shit. he’s not trying to be mean, he’s being himself—critical in the most gentle way possible. but on days like today, it’s difficult for you to differentiate the gentleness and criticism in his words. 

“___, what i’m saying is… next time, if you’re going to wing it—commit to it. it was too obvious,” jin sighs, watching as you stuff your papers into your bag. “jimin had you cornered by the second argument. prep more, and you’ll do fine for the next one—”

“right,” you mumble. “noted. got it. thanks jin. sorry about today.”

you force a tight smile. jin looks at you, not buying it… but he nods and heads off, leaving you alone in the empty classroom.

except, you’re not alone. 

“it’s no fun if you suck, you know.”

you glance up to see jimin leaning casually against one of the desks. he’s loosening his tie as he approaches you. there’s a smug expression on his face, yet there’s a softness in the way he looks at you.

“not in the mood,” you huff, going back to packing and not bothering to spend another second looking at him. “everyone knows it was an off day for me. i’ll be more fun for you next week.”

jimin chuckles, shifting his weight. “okay but—seriously, you went all in on the wrong precedent. if you’d just tied it back to—”

“jimin,” you snap, finally turning on him. your voice comes out sharper than you mean it to be. “i said i’m not in the mood.”

the air stills as he processes the deliverance of your sentance. his smirk quickly fades and is replaced by something more cautious—more caring. 

jimin raises his hands, palms up. “okay, shit. fuck. what’s going on with you?”

you bite your lip hard, but it doesn’t stop the tears that suddenly spill over. 

you and jimin are decent friends. you’ve gone to enough events with him to feel comfortable and have ran in the same circles every now and then. you two are familiar with your personal lives but not in great detail… maybe that’s why you admit the truth instead of brushing it off. out of everyone you know, jimin is the least likely to be nosy and opinionated about what is going on. 

“i—namjoon and i broke up,” you blurt out, your voice breaking. “and this stupid trial, and jin’s feedback, and—i don’t know, it’s just too much right now.”

jimin’s eyes widen, and for a second, he looks completely out of his depth. but then he steps closer, his hand hovering near your back before he finally pats it, awkward but sincere.

“hey,” he says softly. “that must suck. i’m sorry, ___.”

his words… pull you. 

so simple, yet so heavy. before you can stop yourself, you let out a sob. then, another and another… until you’re completely crying and suddenly he has his arms wrapped around your face is buried in his chest. for a split moment, it feels like he holds you so tight that if he lets go—you’d crumble without him. 

“i’ve got you,” he murmurs, one hand rubbing small circles on your back. “let it out. it’s okay. i’m here.”

his words hand in the air as your heart continues to ache. 

you don’t know how long you stay like that, clutching at his shirt as the weight of everything pours out of you but eventually, your sobs quiet. eventually, you pull back and wipe your face with the sleeve of your button up. 

you two stay silent for a moment. only the sound of you catching your breath and the classroom vents humming fills the space. 

then, with a small tilt of his head, jimin asks, “soju?”

you let out a light laugh, shaking your head. 

“we broke up this morning… am i really going to get drunk now? it’s hardly past lunch.”

he smiles, the corners of his mouth lifting in that soft, familiar way that makes your chest ache a little less. “it’s almost 4pm. lunch passed. it’s dinner time.”

“seriously?”

he nods and nods towards the door. “come on. soju on me.”

without another word, jimin reaches over and finishes packing up for you. you watch and listen quietly as he begins to talk about the best meal pairings with soju. he makes you laugh a little more too.

as the two of you leave the classroom, your bag slung over his shoulder, jimin’s mind begins to race. he feels bad about your breakup—of course, he does—but fuck. 

finally. 

namjoon’s a good guy and all and you didn’t deserve to get hurt—but again. 

finally.

jimin has liked you for so long and has been unable to do anything about it because his timing was off. so, he figured he’d wait it out. you and nam joon were a good pair—but something was missing. passion? yearning? love? something like that… 

not to worry—jimin has a feeling he’ll bring those things to the table along with the soju.

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

tom wearing a yale law crewneck🫶🏻

Yale crewneck || Tom Blyth x reader

Summary: Tom wears your Yale crewneck 🫢

Warnings: none

Wc: 376

A/n: short n sweet, I haven’t had any motivation to write lately 😭 I was supposed to post this yesterday but I got busy so hereee

divider by @pommecita

You’re seated in the hushed atmosphere of the School library, surrounded by towering shelves of legal tomes and the faint rustle of pages. The dim light casts a warm glow on your determined face as you sift through case notes, fully immersed in your studies.

A message pops up on your phone as your face immediately lights up at the text, you quickly pack up your belongings to meet up with Tom who had just arrived at Campus.

From a distance, you spot your boyfriend, casually leaning against the a tree, focused in his phone. A contented smile graces your lips. The two of you have barely been able to see each other in person due to busy schedule. Yet, there he was, merely a few meters away.

Tom!” you exclaim, a broad grin adorning your face, quickening your steps toward him. He glances up from his phone, swiftly tucking it in his pocket, and the familiar, affectionate smile that warms your heart appears on his lips.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he warmly greets, arms open for an embrace. You melt into his hug, feeling the reassuring circles his hand traces on your back. A contented sigh escapes you, and you share a moment. “I’ve missed your hugs,” you sight, meeting his gaze. He grins, leaning down to seal the sentiment with a tender kiss.

Strolling through the streets of New Haven, your hands entwined, tlaking about anything and everything, you made several stops on your way back to the apartment. When you arrived back home, you changed out of your clothes and into pyjamas—which was just Tom’s shirt— and headed straight to the kitchen to cook dinner for the both of you.

Meanwhile, Tom was in your bedroom, fresh out the shower and looking through your closet for some clothes that he had left behind.

Finding one of your oversized Yale crewnecks, Tom effortlessly slipped it on. The fabric enveloped him, carrying the familiar scent of the shared obsession with a particular laundry detergent.

As he stepped out of the room, your eyes fixated on him. “You look good in it,” you giggled, appreciating the way he effortlessly showcased the oversized Yale crewneck with a playful spin.

“It’s incredibly comfy,” he comments, wrapping his arms around your waist as you skillfully cut up carrots. “Here, let me help,” Tom says, washing his hands before helping you cut the rest of the veggies. “Take it with you when you start filming,” you suggest, and he hums in agreement.

“I should, so I can be reminded that my girlfriend is a genius who goes to Yale,” Tom playfully nudges you eliciting a delightful giggle from you.

tomblyth

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, rachelzegler, joshandresrivera, thehungergames and 5,047,209 others

Berlin dump

view all comments

y/n_y/l/n: my crewneck suits u better babe

↘️ tomblyth: I’m stealing it from you

↘️ rachelzegler: you guys are adorable 🥹

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: I love you 😚

user1: THE YALE CREWNECK OMG

↘️ user2: SO CUTE

↘️ user3: still can’t wrap my head around how he’s dating a Yale student 😂

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: best believe it!

user4: everyone’s talking about him wearing a Yale crewneck but hello? The last picture?

↘️ user5: RIGHTT

user6: Is that y/n in the third pic too??

↘️ user7: I think so yeah!

user8: that last picture is so freakin cute. how does it feel to live MY dream y/n?

user9: whose Yale crewneck is that 🫢

↘️ tomblyth: it’s actually mine cause i go to Yale!!

↘️ y/n_y/l/n: uhuh….

[whoo0isthatgrl]

“You, Offline”

# 3. before the war was won

TAGS: law is TIRED. use of y/n. @hearts-fromani @queen-of-elves

previous. next. masterlist.

Law was scrolling through Twitter between study sessions, his mind half-focused on the endless medical notes in front of him. He barely tweeted, but he lurked—a lot. It was a convenient way to see what people were talking about without actually having to participate.

His feed was the usual mess: classmates complaining about exams, random memes, some thread of people ratioing incels—

But soon his eyes skimmed over a two day old tweet that caught his attention.

Law huffed through his nose. He could relate. People got weirdly territorial over study spaces. Without thinking much about it, he liked the tweet and kept scrolling.

A few moments later, something nagged at him. He went back to the tweet. Read it again. His brow furrowed slightly.

Library seat rival?

Something about that wording felt too familiar. He glanced up from his phone, gaze drifting across the library. A few tables away, You sat hunched over slightly, typing something on your phone while watching a video on your laptop before taking a long sip of coffee. He raised an eyebrow before his eyes flickering between you and his phone screen a few times, while his mind reeled in the past late nights and your guy’s brief “encounters”. if you could even call it that.

There’s no way. He almost let out a chuckle as he shook his head slightly.

His gaze once again flicked back to the screen, then to her again. He was overthinking it, right? …Right? He shook his head slightly, determined to bring his attention back to his own laptop’s screen. Then, not even three minutes passed before a hushed bubbly voice called a name as they moved across the hall. That name—

“y/n! when did you get here? i thought we were meeting after eleven”

“had to get my coffee, the line gets fucking crazy at this hour. i came to get a table too, couldn’t get our usual though.” she slouched against the chair, her left leg propped under the other as she scrolled on her phone.

Law blinked slowly as he acted as if he wasn’t overhearing the conversation from the two girls a few feet away from him. Moving his eyes back to his phone just as slowly.

Y/n?

Like…Y/n.. from twitter…?

Law’s face and stomach dropped in slow realization. Exhaling roughly as he ran a hand down his face. He had just liked her tweet. About him.

What the fuck were the odds???

He was still in denial. I mean, that tweet could be about anyone! And anyone could have the same as her, yeah!— but as he clicked her profile, Grand Line University was written as clear as day in her bio.

Very carefully, as if his phone might explode, he locked the screen and set it down. Forcing his eyes to stay glued on his laptop’s screen and read the words on the 60 slide powerpoint presentation he needed to study for his upcoming midterm. All in an attempt to forget what just happened, while you on the other hand, oblivious, went back to typing on your phone.

A few seconds later, another tweet from her appeared on his notifications

Law exhaled sharply, mentally groaning. This was going to be a problem.

[gunwoo-bh]

The Night Shift [Min Yoongi x f!reader]

MIN YOONGI x F!READER UniStudent!Min Yoongi AU SUMMARY: You chose a boring, quiet job at your campus's 24-hour library for a reason: it kept you away from drama, gossip, and parties. It was positively uneventful. Until it wasn’t. Warnings: some swearing, it'll be fluff, maybe some angst, but mostly fluff, no smut for now but still MDNI A/N: Hi there. This is my first attempt at writing some Yoongi stuff. I'm just writing this for fun, I'm learning all the fanfic lingo and I want to improve. I don't know if I'll write more but I'd like to. English is my second language, pardon any mistakes.

THE NIGHT SHIFT

You walk into your campus’s 24-hour library five minutes before eleven on Friday. Just as most leave to attend a party to celebrate the end of the week, you head into work in hopes of avoiding the craziness of it all. Admittedly, you also want to escape your best friends’ and roommates’ attempts to get you to join them. You have never envied the meticulous process of getting ready for a party. Time and again, you've seen your friends spend hours primping and prepping. Showering, shaving, moisturizing, applying makeup, blow-drying, straightening or curling their hair, and planning outfits– you can’t help but sigh at what most likely awaits you when you return home in the morning. But pretend all you want; their excitement about parties does make you crave and wish to be more like them. So, instead, you enjoy making them hangover stew and listening to whatever stories they remember from their night, watching them fondly as you live vicariously through their adventures. 

Waving to the librarian preparing to leave her shift for the day, a buzzing in your pocket startles you. After placing your bag at the main desk, you dig into your cardigan pocket and fish out your phone, grinning at the string of texts already lined up for you.

Eunji [10:58PM]: Here’s a pin to our location, ‘kay? If you don’t hear from us, send in the cavalry (salute emoji)

Hwayoung [10:58PM]: Yah! WTF. Unnie, don’t worry about us. We’ll be fine, mhm? Call if you need anything~~

Eunji [10:59PM]: I’m kidding~ I’m kidding~ We’ll be safe, most likely drunk but we’ll try not to be too loud when we get home (wink emoji)

Hwayoung [11:00PM]: Sorry if one of us ends up in your bed (blushing emoji)

Snorting, you type.

You [11:02PM]: You know how to apologize to me, I’m easy. Bribes are welcomed. (wink emoji)

Sliding your phone on the desk, shaking your head at Eunji and Hwayoung’s shenanigans, you get settled for the night. Mrs. Kang leaves you a list of tasks to get done for the night, all of it achievable, and bids you goodnight, leaving you at your post. 

You suspect the library will be mostly empty, if not deserted, by midnight. Hiding your bag under the desk and grabbing your phone, you slip one wireless earbud in your ear and set off for your usual beginning-of-shift lap around the main, second, and third floors. Twenty minutes later, a dozen stray books gathered and a headcount of thirteen people total in the library, you return to your desk for the night, settling in to start writing your essay. 

As the hours begin to pass, you only ever glance up from your laptop to note when someone leaves the building. This means that at nearly 2 AM your previous count of thirteen is brought down to seven when you watch Seungmin, a regular second-year student, exit with a shy wave and bow. You push the chair back and stretch, yawning as your eyes peek at the notifications on your phone. Most are from Hwayoung, usually the least tipsy one, who sends you photos of them at the off-campus party, looking great as always and having fun. You press on the most recent photos and heart it, lips curling up softly.

Closer to 3 AM, you’re up stretching your legs and gathering some more books, placing them back on the shelves where they belong. You still have music in your ear, humming as you walk back down to the main floor. Right when your foot leaves the final step, you’re startled by a person standing at the main desk. Dashing to it, jittery hands taking your earbud out and bowing apologetically as you approach. 

“Ohh, I’m so sorry, have you been waiting long?” not giving him the time to answer, “how can I help you?”

When your eyes meet the cat-like ones of the young man in front of you, you startle a little. You’ve seen him across campus a few times, usually hanging with his group of rambunctious friends. Most of them you’ve spoken to here or there, even sharing a class with one of them, but the one standing in front of you has always been elusive. Quieter. 

“Mhm,” he nods, barely making eye contact as he slides a paper over to you. 

Looking quickly between the paper and him, you pick it up and read the name of the book. You recognize it right away. Most third-year psychology students end up at some point looking for it you find. 

“Oh,” you chew your lower lip, “second floor, back left corner near the water fountain. Here…” you grab a pen and scribble down the area for him, handing it to him. “If it’s not there, please come back, and I’ll help you find it…” 

He finally locks eyes with you for a few seconds, mumbling the quietest thank you ever heard and bowing. And just as quickly as he appeared, he is gone up the stairs. You glance over your shoulder to his retreating figure. 

While you may be immune to the desire to party, you certainly are not immune to attractive guys. He was very handsome with his slightly long black hair, bangs long enough to fall in his eyes when leaning forward. His powerful gaze is what struck you when face to face, but you were also struck by the way he nervously licked his lips when waiting for your help. He was handsome is all you can think of as you sit back down, unable to let go of the interaction.

You pick up your phone, wondering if you should ask your friends if they know his name. Eunji is the social butterfly you wish you were and seems to know everyone in Seoul, not just the school but the city as well. You decide against it; the odds of getting an answer out of her at this time are extremely low before settling back into school work with one final glance to the stairs. 

When 5 AM comes around, you’re just about done with your essay when footsteps catch your attention as your body snaps towards the stairs. You slouch back in your chair when you realize it’s the campus security guard, bowing when he passes your desk and sighing. Damn it, YN, why are you this way…Shaking your head in disappointment, you grab the sandwich you bought yourself before coming into work, snacking on that with your water while manifesting this next hour to be over and done with. 

The sound of the turnstiles is the next thing catching your attention briefly away from your food, glancing up to see a student smiling brightly at you and bowing before rushing up the stairs like a man on a mission, making you chuckle. Right as you get up from your seat, two sets of footsteps catch your attention, but you continue moving around your desk to begin your final lap to clean up before Mr. Song’s arrival. As you reach the bottom steps, you’re met with the student who just entered the library, leaving with the handsome guy from earlier, stopping to let them pass, and bowing to each other quickly. Standing still, you watch them leave the library, but not before mystery guy takes a quick peek behind him to you, prompting his friend to do the same. 

His friend begins grinning and laughing, his friend tugging him with force out of the library, which simply confuses you more. You decide not to dwell on that interaction, instead, you begin your final check and clean up before the clock finally strikes 6 AM. You hand off your list of completed tasks to Mr. Song and wish him a good day once you’ve gathered your things.

The crisp morning spring air is a welcome sensation against your face when you leave the building, yawning and walking back to your apartment. 

Entering the apartment, it’s quiet and still, making you wonder if your friends are even home yet. But one glance at the slippers still present at the entrance is enough to let you know that they haven’t returned home yet. You smile warmly, dragging your feet to your bedroom and getting changed into some pajamas, sliding into bed to get as much sleep as possible.

It’s just past noon when you hear the rousing of your friends. You’re already up, freshened up, and cooking them some hangover stew. The post-Friday night routine for all of you. Glancing over your shoulder, you spot Hwayoung, followed by Eunji slowly coming to sit in the living room. 

“Food is ready~!” You sing-song, grabbing the tray of food you’ve readied and bringing it over.

You’re all happily enjoying your breakfast, listening to them share the stories of what they remember of their night. Eunji remembers dancing with a guy and nearly going home with him, while Hwayoung remembers watching some drama unfold between two girls and a guy. 

“So, you were eavesdropping?” You quirk your eyebrow. 

She grunts. “Do we call it that if I was stuck in the bathroom while they were gossiping?”

You all laugh, serving each other more food as Eunji turns to you. “How was work?” 

You still right away, pretending the question didn’t immediately bring your mind right back to handsome library guy. “It was good, quiet as usual but you guys know me, I like my boring Friday nights.”

Your friends stare at you, and you know they can tell you’re itching to say something, to share too. They wait you out as you take a few bites of food, chewing quietly before swallowing that bite. You’re silent for barely two minutes before you open your mouth, shutting it right away. You don’t know why you’re hesitating, your friends would never judge you for anything you already know that. 

“So,” you pause, watching the way their eyes are already glued to you, “do you know Kim Namjoon? We have the same Cultural Theory class?”

They both nod right away, urging you to go on. “You guys know his friends by any chance?”

They both lean back, glancing at each other for a few seconds before Hwayoung asks, “Why are you asking?” 

Your face contorts in something the girls have never seen out of you before, like it physically pains you to have to explain it to them, “Well,” you trail off, “this guy came into the library like at 3 in the frickin’ morning…and I’ve just seen him around Namjoon and his friends, I just…I never…I don’t think I’ve ever heard his name before. I was…just cu–curious, you know?” 

You shut your eyes, wincing at how awful that sounded, “Okay, I know you guys wanna freak out, can you just do it now…” you sigh, and right on cue both Hwayoung and Eunji start kicking their feet, giggling like high school girls who have just heard the juciest gossip. Then a series of questions begin overlapping at unheard speeds, you’d think they were a Formula 1 car with how fast they were going. 

It’s only five minutes later that they finally quiet as Eunji gently smacks Hwayoung on the knee, urging her to ask you the question they want an answer to: “Why are you asking?”

The silence is deafening when she’s done speaking, and you’re playing with the hem of your hoodie, “Because he was cute.”

You swear you’ve never seen your friends hold in their excitement this much before you add, “Can you just tell me if you know his friends?” You whine before letting your body fall back on the ground. 

You’re staring at the ceiling, questioning your life choices and wondering if you should have even brought this up as Hwayoung crawls closer to you, lying next to you, “Well, yes. Eunji has classes with–who is it?”

“Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung. Was he one of them?” Eunji asks, joining you two on the floor.

You shake your head. “Isn’t Taehyung the guy you have a crush on?” 

“No, that’s Jeon Jungkook. He’s the smart second-year who skipped a year, he has a class with Hwayoung.”

“Ah…”

Hwayoung hums, “So, not Namjoon, Taehyung, Jimin, or Jungkook.” She turns to Eunji, “That leaves Yoongi, Seokjin, or Hoseok.”

“What did he look like, Unnie?” Eunji asks you, intent on giving you an answer.

You go on to describe him as best as you can, until suddenly one detail pops into your head, “Oh my god, I’m an idiot. He was looking for a book, he was looking for a psychology textbook!  Do any of them major in that?” 

Hwayoung snaps her fingers, looking at Eunji, “That would be…Min Yoongi, no?” 

“Yep. Min Yoongi.” Eunji says the name, and then they both look at you. 

You’re mouthing the name softly, looking up to your expectant friends, “What…what do you guys know about him?” 

Hwayoung shrugs, “He’s nice. Quiet. Picks and chooses his people. Studies psychology. Shy. He’s not as…’out there’ as the other guys but a classmate of mine said he did a project with him their freshman year and was a hard worker, and just nice overall.” 

You listen to her, nodding along, suddenly feeling like you let the curiosity get the best of you and that you’re getting hopeful over something that hasn’t even happened. You’ve had crushes. You’ve never seriously dated anybody, but you’re still young, so no rush, right? Min Yoongi was just a cute guy you had seen at school, that’s all. 

“Mhm, he’s just cute…” You explain to no one in particular, maybe to yourself, and your best friends notice right away how you suddenly get lost in your head. “Well, thank you for clearing up that mystery.” You laugh, sitting up.

Hwayoung rubs your back from her lying position, “You know, you’re allowed to think a guy is cute and wonder who he is.”

“I know…” Sighing, you lie back down with your friends. “But I’m not you guys. I’m not the girl that attracts attention everywhere I go. I’m the quiet one. I am the one who flies under the radar. I mean, I did that to myself.” 

Eunji holds your hand, “Come on, any guy would be lucky to be with you. Rest assured, we will remind whoever you end up with of that very detail.” She says with certainty, making you giggle. 

“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You sigh, staring at the ceiling once more. 

A few minutes of silence pass when Hwayoung speaks up, “Let’s order food, buy alcohol and snacks, and watch a bunch of rom-coms to remind us how single we all are.” 

This makes all of you burst out in laughter but also agreement. With that plan in mind, each of you do your apartment chores. And nothing heals you more than an afternoon with your best friends listening to music. You can’t deny that your thoughts sometimes veer back towards Min Yoongi. 

You were never the girl who was boy-obsessed or focused in high school. You never minded when it happened because to each their own, but you kept your crushes very close to your chest. Objectively? You can look at guys and just think they’re handsome, and could you say this about him? Of course. But he struck you differently with that tiny interaction. A crush at first sight of sorts. You tell yourself it’s more than okay to think that Min Yoongi is a good-looking guy and that you're likely going to keep thinking so. With that in mind, you make a list of movies to watch until the wee hours of the morning or until you fall asleep. Come evening, Hwayoung calls her favorite local restaurant and places an order for pickup, which has become your job to pick up.

With that in mind, you make a list of movies to watch until the wee hours of the morning or until you fall asleep. Come the evening, Hwayoung has called her favourite local restaurant and placed an order for pick up, which has become your job to pick up.

“Remind me why I’m picking this up and not you? You placed the order, no?” You ask, slipping your shoes on with a small grin. 

“Because I am very specific about what alcohol girls’ night must have, and Eunji is very specific about the kind of snacks she likes, and we both know what you like so…” she trails off, “makes sense to us to do this.” 

You playfully glare at both, placing your purse around you, “You just want to buy the fancy shit…”

Hwayoung snaps her fingers, “Ding ding! We have a winner!”

You burst out laughing. “Alright then, I’m going to pick up the food. Please, let's all get back here quick so we can start our sappy rom-com night.”

After a messy three-way high five, you manage to begin your fifteen-minute walk to the restaurant, looking down to the order confirmation Hwayoung had sent to you. Your walk goes faster than you ever expected it to go as you reach the beautiful traditional building that houses the restaurant. None of you have ever physically come here, but a pamphlet had been left at your apartment when you moved in at first. And somehow, this had become your go-to place for a treat. Except this time, instead of delivery, because of the size of your order (Hwayoung had probably gone overboard this time), you had to go pick it up. 

You open the door and announce yourself, saying hello as you walk up to the counter to the nice middle-aged woman there. You show her your phone with the order confirmation, “I am here for a pick up, here’s the reference number.” 

She looks at it and smiles, “Mhm, yes, your order is just about ready if you wouldn’t mind waiting here for a moment.” 

You nod and bow to her, waiting in the lobby as you look around the restaurant. You take your phone out to update your friends.

You [8:41PM]: Arrived! Food is ready at any moment. Will be back home soon~! How’s the booze and snack search?

“Miss, your food is ready.” You hear the owner speak, shoving your phone back in your pocket and turning to face her. She points towards the curtain that separates the front and the kitchen. “My son will have it out.”

You’re paying when she fusses over her son and how he’s trying to carry both heavy bags at once, helping him, and only when you look up do you feel your body freeze. You clock her placing the first bag on the counter in front of you, but where your focus is, is different. Your eyes are trained on her son bringing the second bag out, making eye contact with cat-like eyes when he finally lifts his head. You can’t believe your luck (or bad luck?) when you’re face to face with the owner’s son. And you can’t wait to go back and tell your friends exactly who that is. 

Min Yoongi.

post separator @hyuneskkami

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: Whickber Uni's Lonely Hearts Club

Though Aziraphale and Crowley share the responsibility of running Whickber University's student book club, they couldn't be a worse pair of allies if they tried. All they've done, since the very day they first met, is disagree on everything it is possible to disagree on - including each other's appearances, personalities and tastes. When the Valentine's Day singles social the two young men have jointly arranged for the book club goes awry, can they make the best of it? Or will their differences break the whole evening apart, and the future of the club with it?

Length: 21,247 Words AO3 Rating: Explicit/Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥 Best for/Keywords: Mostly Safe in Public, Human AU, Student AU, Pick-me-up, Trans Characters Major Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy

 *Minor Spoilers* Here we join Aziraphale and Crowley as they are planning a Valentine's day social for their university's book club. This fic is a pretty pink heart-shaped candy box of t4t joy, rivalry shenanigans, unrealized sexual tension, and clever book references, and I've eaten the entire box!

There's such a life and charm to this story! It's fluffy and sweet, and their rivalry was very entertaining. There's tons of funny and clever lines that made me giggle, and others that have really rewarding character moments hidden inside. One of my favorites of these moments, was Aziraphale remembering each book club members favorite book. It's presented in a really wonderful narrative beat, but also shows us how Aziraphale loves and cares for his friends and club members. Crowley is just as caring, though of course he'll never want to be seen as being kind. He can't help it though, that boy has a heart of gold and a need to be of service to his loved ones.

The bulk of the story is sweet as pie and perfectly safe in public, but it wouldn't be an ineffabildaddy fic without tender, loving, and nurturing trans sex. There's a gorgeous little scene towards the end that made me feel like cupid shot an arrow right through my heart. Crowley's gender expression is especially dear to me, and seeing him represented as a transmasc character who isn't medically transitioning was so fresh and perfectly him. I just absolutely adore these two and this fic. It's such a kind love story, and an absolute mood boost if you need cheering up!

Read it here, fic by ineffabildaddy

[amarriageoftrueminds]

AU Idea I had last night:

Late-Teen Will either discovering that there's been a trust fund for him all along, left by his mother on the condition that it's used for fees at a fancy boarding school, or getting into fancy boarding school for graduation year because of merit / earning a scholarship and previously-unknown legacy-association with his estranged mother's family. Getting shipped off to said prestigious boarding school but being miserable there / struggling. He's the new boy, out-performing his peers, the poorest student there by a mile and constantly bullied for that and his innate weirdness and because girls like him.

Enter: temp-professor Hannibal (27; maybe he is on sabbatical from surgeon-ing for a year, before retraining as a psychiatrist.).

He notices Will's brilliance, takes a shine to him, and becomes a sort of mentor to him. He transforms Will's nightmarish experience of school almost overnight: eating lunch with him (giving him safe place to go, or ensuring he's safe wherever he is), tutoring him, seeing off his bullies, 'discovering' grants Will can use to pay for expenses since he's a scholarship student, etc etc.

(What does Hannibal teach? Art? Anatomy? Biology, dissecting things? Temps for the Phys.Ed. teacher and kicks ass / humiliates Will's bullies in an impromptu kendo lesson??)

Essentially, he makes Will feel he has room to breathe, and might actually have a chance to make the most of this golden opportunity. Also makes him feel cool by association because Hannibal has Chosen him and all the teenage boys basically want to be Hannibal. (Also, maybe it's a co-ed school and all the cheerleaders are mooning over dreamy Hannibal.)

Canon-style totally platonic but wildly homoerotic relationship because oblivious!Will still thinks he's straight and oblivious!Hannibal thinks he's only gawping at Will's beauty because he's an aesthete. 🤦‍♀️

Meanwhile, nasty 'accidents' keep befalling the worst of Will's bullies, the cruelest/most predatory teachers, etc. and Hannibal encourages Will to listen to his 'instincts.'

Ends with Will graduating and getting into prestigious ivy league school and Hannibal promptly quitting his teaching position to go and live with Will and be his sugar-daddy through college while Hannibal re-trains in psychiatry. (Or maybe Hannibal offers to fund a gap-year so he and Will can do a Grand Tour of Europe together.)

visual inspo under the cut:

90s Mads

Oxbridge Hugh

[mimisempai]

The end of loneliness 7/7

Chapter Summary

The end... or the beginning...

Notes

This little story, started on a whim, is coming to an end. 

Thank you for following it. I hope you've enjoyed it.

On Ao3

Rating G - 2689 words

Masterpost here

"So, is the big day coming soon? I guess you're looking forward to it, even if it's not something completely new for you."

Anthony took a sip of coffee, wondering what the best answer would be. Yes seemed too restrictive, but it wasn't as if he wanted to go into the details of his new living arrangements with Aziraphale. Yes, of course he was happy to move in with him, but... 

"Anthony?"

Nina's voice snapped him out of his thoughts and he replied quietly, "I'm... cautiously optimistic. Granted, it's nothing new, but it's... different."

Nina nodded.

"It's better that it's different, don't you think? It means he's not a substitute." 

She took another sip of coffee and added, "Anyway, I'm happy for you. Well, not so happy for him, seeing how hard it must be to live with you..."

"Hey, that's mean!"

Nina laughed, then her face became serious again as she said quietly, "If life has taught me anything, it's that you have to take your happiness where you find it. So I'm glad you decided to give yourself a new chance with him."

Anthony mumbled, "There was nothing to decide because everything happens naturally between us."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, nothing, I talked too much."

"You, talking too much?" 

Nina chuckled before she continued, "When it comes to talking about stars or even ducks, yes, you could be accused of talking too much, but when it comes to your private life, that's not the case. I was joking with you, I heard you loud and clear and I understand what you mean, so for me, who's been watching you a little bit since the beginning of this relationship, it's clear that things are natural between you. Anyone who sees you together can see that there's something special." 

After taking another sip of coffee, she added, "Although there is one thing that intrigues me."

"What is that?"

"Well, how will you manage to live together, since you both have your individual habits, not to mention your past experiences, which are rather... different from what I know."

Anthony had asked himself the same question. Sure, they'd been together for almost a year, they'd each left things at the other's place, each had a key to the other's apartment, but they'd never spent more than a few days at a time together. Obviously, living together was something new, but somehow Anthony had a feeling it would work out.

"I guess we'll see as we go along," he replied confidently.

"You know where to find me if you want to talk."

Anthony nodded. 

The friendship he'd formed with Nina had grown stronger after Christine's death, but especially since he'd been with Aziraphale. Before they'd just been colleagues who worked well together and shared the same dedication to their work, but it had long since gone beyond a professional acquaintance and he knew he could count on her.

"I know. But let's stop talking about me, it's my turn to meddle, how are things going with the new music teacher?"

After a difficult relationship that had ended in an equally difficult way, Nina had needed time to rebuild herself, but the start of this school year had put the new music teacher in her way, who had gradually managed to break through her shell.

"It's...taking its course."

Although Nina complained that Anthony didn't talk much about himself, she was hardly more expansive, and it often took a drunken evening for them to confide in each other, so Anthony didn't insist.

The conversation lightened as the break came to an end, and after that the afternoon passed unsurprisingly for Anthony, who was mostly looking forward to going home. 

However, he had a little trouble concentrating in anticipation of the changes to come. 

**********

He was pleasantly surprised to find Aziraphale waiting for him in his living room when he returned home.

"Anthony!" Aziraphale exclaimed happily, rising to his feet and coming over to greet him with a kiss. 

They hadn't seen each other for several days, both of them busy with classes and the move, so the kiss lasted longer than usual, and they were both panting when they pulled away.

Anthony found himself thinking that he wouldn't mind this kind of moment if it became part of their routine in the future.

"How was your day? Did you see Nina? And your conference?"

That too was something pleasant, and although he'd found the incessant flow of words a little destabilizing at first, Anthony had come to realize that his lover's questions were always sincere, that he expected answers and never asked them out of politeness.

"Busy as you can imagine, but exciting, I have some very interesting and interested students, it's nice. Nina and I have been talking about things, about us, hardly about her." Aziraphale chuckled as Anthony continued, "And my conference went well too, although there was an old hag in the back who kept trying to contradict me. You know me, though, I didn't let it bother me." 

Anthony stroked Aziraphale's cheek with his knuckle as he asked gently, "And you? How was your lunch with Muriel?"

Since Muriel and Aziraphale had hardly any classes together this year, they had agreed to see each other two or three times a week for lunch. 

"It was fun. They're excited for us, well for me because I'm going to be living with the handsome Professor Crowley."  Aziraphale chuckled before continuing, "They even offered with their boyfriend Eric to help us move our stuff in once our apartment would be ready."

Anthony smiled.

"You really do have a valuable friend."

"We have a valuable friend," Aziraphale replied with a wink as he grabbed Anthony's hands and led him to the sofa.

Once they were both seated, they quickly found themselves in what seemed to be their favorite position, Anthony leaning back with his head in Aziraphale's lap, Aziraphale immediately burying his hands in the red hair. 

They were often very busy, even more so now, but they had quickly learned that it was important to take time for themselves, even if it was only for a few minutes. 

Anthony, humming with satisfaction, suddenly turned his head to look at Aziraphale and asked quietly, "Are you really happy that we are going to live together?

Aziraphale nodded eagerly.

"Yes, absolutely. Why? Do you have any doubts?"

"Doubts, no, but perhaps a little apprehension. After all, you don't know if I'm easy to live with."

"Nor do you if I am."

Aziraphale leaned over and planted a kiss on Anthony's forehead before continuing, "I'm aware of our different backgrounds, my inexperience, your experience in this matter, but I'm sure we'll manage."

Anthony was always pleased when Aziraphale played the reassuring role. Since that famous evening when he had comforted Anthony and helped him cope with the pain of grief, his lover seemed to have gained confidence in himself, and Anthony was pleased with the way it had subsequently balanced their relationship.

He nodded.

"You're right. I guess I'm worrying for nothing."

After a few moments of silence, he changed the subject and asked, "Do you have anything planned for dinner?"

Aziraphale leaned over again and whispered, "Well, for dinner, no. But I confess I have something in mind for dessert."

Anthony straightened up, then sat astride his lover's lap and began unbuttoning Aziraphale's shirt as he replied, "I say we skip dinner and go straight to dessert."

When Aziraphale responded by capturing his lips in a passionate kiss, Anthony forgot all his uncertainties about their future life together.

**********

A few weeks later, when Aziraphale was up to his neck in revisions and couldn't take it anymore, he threw down his pen and leaned back in his chair with a sigh.

"Aziraphale?"

"I'm here, in the study."

When Anthony entered the study and saw the state his lover was in, he closed the door behind him, approached him, put his arms around his neck and kissed the top of his head. Aziraphale leaned back even more and closed his eyes. 

"I'm going to have a hard time concentrating on my revisions if you make a habit of doing this."

Anthony's hands slid over Aziraphale's shoulders and began a firm massage. 

"How about this, does it help?"

Aziraphale groaned as Anthony's deft fingers had just hit a particularly knotted muscle.

"You and your distracting hands can't be here too often or I'll never be able to work properly, but a massage like this, on the other hand, is... effective. I didn't know you knew how to do that."

Anthony didn't answer, and his hands paused for a moment before resuming the massage. At his silence, Aziraphale turned his head and was surprised by the sad expression on his lover's face.

"Darling, what's wrong?"

"Um... it's something Chrisitine used to do for me when I was stressed before exams."

"Oh Anthony..." 

Aziraphale grabbed the hand that remained on his shoulder and squeezed it.

Anthony squeezed back and said sadly, "Sorry... I didn't mean to spoil the mood."

"Don't be sorry. I don't want your wife's name, your past, to be taboo. You have the right to talk about her, to be sad or happy when you remember her."

After a moment of silence, Anthony kissed Aziraphale' head again, "Thank you for being so understanding.

"I'll be less so if you stop what you were doing."

Aziraphale's attempt to lighten the mood worked, and with a chuckle, Anthony resumed the massage.

After a few moments of silence, Aziraphale said quietly, "You know, it's funny. Before we lived together, I used to keep all the things I wanted to say to you later in my head, but now that we're in our new home, I feel like I have access to you all the time, and it's...".

"Good?"

"Better than good."

Aziraphale stood and wrapped his arms around his lover's neck, adding, "To be able to do this all the time, whenever I want, it's really, really amazing and I don't know if I would be able to live without it."

Anthony planted a kiss on Aziraphale's nose.

"That's good, because you won't have to live without it."

**********

For some time now, whenever he went to meet Aziraphale, Anthony had the impression that he was being followed by stares in the university hallways, more so than before. Sometimes he even thought people were giggling behind his back. Yet he felt no hostility.

"I feel like they're staring at me."

He was pouring two glasses of wine in the kitchen and had said this as he handed one to Aziraphale.

"You can't blame them for being curious. After all, I'm in a relationship with the handsome Professor Crowley, who makes everyone drool, girls and boys alike."

Aziraphale laughed lightly as Anthony rolled his eyes, then, after taking a sip, added, "And also... um... I may have bragged to Muriel for a moment about your... prowess in a rather loud voice." Seeing Anthony open his mouth, he hastened to add, "Nothing explicit, just little details."

"Little details..."

"Oh, but nothing, just that I'm satisfied, that's all."

Hiding his face in his hands, Anthony growled, "Aziraphale, tell me you didn't talk about our sex life in front of everyone."

"Uh... you want me to lie?"

"Aziraphale!"

"Not in front of everyone. It's just that Muriel asked me questions, and I got carried away and talked a little loud. I told her little things. That you like my cooking, that you like green plants and ducks, that our balcony has become an observatory because of your telescopes, that I find you sexy in the morning when you wake up, nothing too intimate..."

"Only in the morning?!"

Of course, that was all Anthony heard.

"Sorry, I mean even sexier than usual."

"Aaaah, that's the reason for these little morning quickies."

Aziraphale, relieved that his lover wasn't too upset with him, asked cheekily, "Don't you like it?"

"Don't change the subject. What else did you say?"

"That's all, I promise. Well..."

"What?! Come on, spit it out!"

"Everyone probably heard me say that I've never been happier in my life and that I love you more than anything."

Just like that, Anthony's irritation disappeared. Smiling affectionately, he cupped Aziraphale's face in his hands and ran his thumb over his lower lip before saying softly, "And I feel the same."

He expected to feel the same sense of guilt that sometimes gripped him when he spoke of his happiness with Aziraphale, but not this time.

He was truly happy.

**********

"You look good, Anthony. Everything okay with you and Aziraphale? I have the impression that living together is going very well." 

Nina and Anthony were walking out of the teachers' lounge to go home.

Anthony nodded, smiling as he thought back to the conversation Nina and he had had just before he and Aziraphale had moved in together, and this time he didn't hesitate to answer.

"Things are going very well, yes."

"I can see it. You look... happy. However, if I may..."

Anthony's eyes narrowed, waiting for what Nina would add.

"Given the bags under your eyes, may I suggest you get some rest tonight?"

Anthony chuckled softly.

"I'm sure I'll rest... sometime, if not tonight. We're only on our honeymoon... sort of. And both he and I are... enthusiastic."

Nina shook her head and laughed.

"Like I said, enjoy the moment." 

"What about you? Still status quo with Maggie?"

Nina looked at her watch and replied, "Actually, we're having dinner tonight. So I'm going to leave you now, because I have to get ready, and besides, it's been a long time since I've done this, so I have to prepare myself mentally."

"I know how it is, but don't worry too much. Knowing Maggie, I'm sure it will go well."

"One can only hope."

Nina tapped him on the shoulder, then added, "Well, I'm off. Have a nice weekend."

She started to walk away, then stopped and turned around, saying in a low voice, "Say hello to your sweetheart and don't let him tire you out too much."

Nina winked and walked away for good.

Chuckling, Anthony continued forward, quickening his pace, now in a hurry to reach Aziraphale.

"Aaaah, so it's not just me."

Anthony, surprised, turned to see Aziraphale behind him.

Confused, he asked to his lover who was now walking beside him, "What do you mean?"

"You tell your friends intimate details about our relationship too!"

"Certainly not."

"Don't deny it. I heard your entire conversation with Nina."

Anthony, now unable to deny it, muttered, "Busted."

To his surprise, Aziraphale grabbed his hand and almost ran, pulling him into the next classroom. Once the door was closed, Anthony found himself pinned against the door as Aziraphale captured his lips in a fierce, passionate kiss. 

Anthony, though surprised at first, took his lover's face in his hands and responded to the kiss with equal passion, burying his fingers in Aziraphale's hair. A few moments later they parted, breathless.

Anthony caught Aziraphale's hand and said, panting, "I'm not complaining. Not at all. But what's the reason for this, angel?"

With his eyes shining and a broad smile on his lips, Aziraphale replied, "You talk about me to people, you brag about me. That means you're proud to be with me."

"Of course I am. How can you doubt it?" 

Aziraphale planted another kiss on Anthony's mouth. "Old habits die hard, you know."

Anthony squeezed his lover's hand gently and nodded in understanding. After all Aziraphale had heard about himself from his own family, it was normal for Aziraphale to still have doubts sometimes. 

He brought his lover's hand to his lips and said softly against his palm, "Let's go home.

After adjusting themselves, they left the classroom and walked home, hand in hand, indifferent to the stares that followed them.

Anthony couldn't wait to be there. 

He tightened his grip on the small velvet box in his pocket. 

Soon Aziraphale would have no doubt that Anthony was proud to be with him.

Proud to love him.

He would only have to say yes.

[motorganism]

Hey falls over the table I was leaning on

[februairy]

channeling a bit of my personal life into these guys

both of them need sleep.