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palbabor-writes · 4 years ago

Text

Practicum

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: SMUT/18+ only, unbalanced/unhealthy relationships, student/teacher sex, tw.dubcon, tw.sub/dom dynamics, brat taming, fingering, masturbation, a table is pretty roughed up in this, so pls hold a brief moment of silence for it

Words: 12,857

“So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And...answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

You bite at your lip again and pass your gaze from his amused expression to the bland cover of the textbook, debating your next move, trying to walk yourself through all the ups and downs. It’s too simple; too easy. It’s not like him. He’s got something else in mind, why else would he fucking look like that? It’s not a bad look. No, it’s a look that makes your stomach flip and head spin.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Notes: the title was selected because it’s got the word cum in it. ahhh, the things that crack me up. anyhow.

this is part of the BNHA Degeneracy server’s 9 to 5 collaboration! i had a ton of fun participating in this and thank you guys for making this so freaking awesome! special shoutout & thanks to @albinoburrito & @kugutsuu for their beta edits! this was a departure from what i usually write about and i appreciate all of your notes and help!

Practicum prac·ti·cum /ˈpraktəkəm/ noun a practical section of a course of study

It’s your senior year, they said. Live a little, they advised. Stop and take a breather, you’re practically home free! Take some easier classes. Focus on what’s in front of you, it’ll be over before you know it! On and on and on.

Spring semester is almost here. You’ve applied for graduation, the cap and gown ordered, and you have a shiny class ring sitting on your pinky. It’s in the bag. Just breeze through four more classes and you’re out. Well, it would be an easy shot, if you hadn’t put off this one class.

It always popped up, so it’s not like you could plead ignorance. Your advisor warned you, each quarterly meeting, that you needed to get it out of the way. Take it seriously, he cautioned, clacking out his notes, typing down that you’d failed to heed his sage advice, again. If you wait too long, you’re not going to get the professor that you want.

That was the other problem. You’re a procrastination superstar. If there was some kinda award for putting off assignments, you’d have won it ten times over. You liked the heart pounding race to the deadline, the sleepy boasts that you’d tackled the project within hours of its due date.

It’s a stupid habit. Every semester you promise yourself that you’ll do better. You won’t wait, you’ll tackle things one assignment at a time and turn them before the hard cut off at 11:59 pm. Who the fuck did you think you were kidding? Certainly not your friends, or your advisor. He could read you like a book. Hell, he’d even sent warnings.

‘Don’t forget about the deadline for senior registration!’

‘You don’t want to be on a waitlist. You especially don’t want to take one of the harder professors. These are freshman level classes, they’re designed to flunk undergrads. Don’t forget (Y/N), chew them up and spit them out tactics are employed.’

But you had. You’d set an alarm on your phone, then neglected to give it a title, so you’d only chuckled and smacked the chirping into silence that morning, snoozing the all important deadline away.

Fuck.

Most of the classes for biology are wait-listed. No, scratch that, all the classes for Intro to Genetic Biology are wait-listed. You opt into the waitlist for all of them, just in case, and a week later your phone alerts you that one has an open seat. Actually, it has several open seats, too many open seats to be natural. However, you’re not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so for now, you’re enrolled in BIO 1208: Principles of Cell and Organismal Physiology - For Non-Science majors.

Perfect.

Yeah, no. You’d looked up the professor, since the whole open seat thing was still giving you the heebie-jeebies, and your heart dropped. You’ve heard of him, most of the student body has. His classes are notoriously small. Not because the university limited them, or planned for smaller class sizes. No, his classes are tiny because he is infamous for failing students.

Most, when they realize they’re scheduled for his bio classes, frantically drop, taking the withdrawal and praying for better luck next semester. Others, brave souls who think they can come out unscathed, attempt to grit their teeth and push through. But, by midterms, they’re war torn and haggard, shaking their heads and praying for a ‘C’, at best. Fewer still, pass.

This pedagogy isn’t a sign of good teaching; quite the opposite, in fact. You don’t want your student body failing. Yet, year after year, Professor Tomura Shigaraki keeps teaching the same Intro to Bio class. It boggles the mind, but you’ve never had to worry about it. Well, until now.

When you’d received the notification that you’re enrolled in the B section and spied the name Shigaraki under the professor listing, you’d scarfed down your suddenly flavorless lunch and dashed up the steps to the student advising hall, praying there was some way you could wiggle your way out of this growing disaster.

“I’m pretty sure I told you to take it earlier and to take it in the fall when there are more freshman level classes available. I swear I said that to you. And, AND, I even sent you emails, several times if my sent inbox is to be believed, to NOT forget when senior registration ends.”

Your advisor is peeved. You don’t blame him. He’s right, this is your fault, but there’s gotta be some kinda loophole. Something, fuck, anything, that can pull you from this mess.

“I know, I know! I’m so sorry. You’re right. But, I mean, can’t I just hold off for another week? See if the waitlist clears?”

The man that you’ve known for four years, that’s seen you progress from freshman to senior, steeples his long fingers and purses his lips, likely debating on a tactful scolding, or a firm rebuttal. He takes a deep breath and you can’t help but sink into the soft cushioning of the chair, your nose wrinkled and brow furrowed, mentally preparing yourself for the worst.

“Do you know how many students we require to take BIO 1208?”

“No,” you gulp, nibbling on your lower lip nervously.

“Over 7,000. Do you want to hear the statistics that would need to shake out in your favor for you to miraculously avoid taking this specific class? Nothing is going to open for you, it is this class, or no class.”

You sigh, and your advisor nods, pushing his horn-rimmed glasses up his nose. “Well then, I suggest you brush up on your study skills. Find a classmate that you can compare notes with, join a study group, go to the student union and ask for a tutor. I would hate to see you back here for the summer semester. You’re scheduled to walk the stage this spring and you’ve worked hard for this, so don’t fuck it up, okay?”

You’ve attended this university for four years, but the first day of term always gives you the jitters. It doesn’t matter that you know your way around, or that you know ten professors by name, and bump into several friends on the way to your next building, you’re always buried in your phone, checking and double checking the next class’ room number.

Despite all that caution, you’re lost.

In your defense, it’s your first time stepping foot in the Graduate & Research building and the whole concrete block is a fucking maze. There must be a basement because the numbers don’t match up with the floors and they seem to jumble further every time you round a corner. Like what the hell? How can this next room be GR 3.03.05 when this is clearly only the second floor and GR 2.03.11 was right down that other hallway?

Exasperated, you lean against the nearest wall and tug your phone out again. Shit. Class started ten minutes ago.

Part of you wants to call it a day, end the search here and try again on Wednesday. Maybe take a few extra minutes to scout out the building next time and have some idea of where you’re going before the start of class.

Ugh, why is this so stressful?

It’s the first day of classes. Surely Professor Shigaraki won’t mind if you’re a few minutes late; besides, if you’re lost, others must be too.

You tuck your phone back into your pocket and resume the hunt. Two hallway turns later, you find your mark.

Your hand pauses beside the heavy wood, and you take a steadying breath. Again, why are you so nervous? Just go in and take a seat, it’s easy, stop freaking out over nothing.

The door groans open, hinges protesting the sharp push, and you stumble into a darkened room. The low glow of the projector doesn’t help your blurry vision. Ah, shit, it’s one of those older rooms, so it’s built like a bad movie theater. Oh well, better get to a seat before he spots you.

Swiftly, you make your way toward the raised steps of the aisle and the second row of chairs, plopping into the first one you reach that’s empty. You’re too busy fiddling with the zipper of your backpack to notice that the speaker has stopped his rasping preamble, but as you pull your laptop out the ominous weight of that heavy silence hits you and you toss a hooded stare toward the front of the lecture hall.

Immediately, your eyes land on the professor’s and you feel a low shiver shake up your spine.

He’s watching you.

The gleam of the overhead projector makes his red eyes flash, and he openly scowls at your gaping expression, his lips curling into a dark sneer.

“Well, thank you for joining us, Miss…?”

He’s waiting for your response and you squeak out your last name, mindlessly rubbing your moistening palms against your thin skirt.

“Ah, Ms. (L/N). Now that you’ve graced the class with your belated presence, may I continue?”

“Uh,” you gasp out, your mouth dry, tongue sticking to your teeth, “I’m sorry. I got–”

“I didn’t ask for an explanation, or in your case, an excuse. Or are you now attempting to disrupt this class purposefully?”

“Wha– I-I’m–” your words stumble to a halt, voice failing under the intense glare that he’s giving you. “No,” you finish lamely, ducking your head, nails digging into your sweaty palms.

“Thank you. Do me a favor, stay after class.” His voice is gravel, threatening and low. You don’t like the edge in his tone. It makes your skin prickle and your knees knock. He sounds like the kind of guy that you don’t want to run into in a dark alleyway, or a classroom, for that matter. Even so, it’s not your fault, and despite your feelings of unease, you can’t tamp down your need to protest his unreasonableness.

“But, professor, I didn’t mean to–”

“If I need to repeat my insistence for silence, I’ll make things easier on both of us and fail you now.”

Stunned and fuming, you bite your tongue and lean back into your chair, crossing your arms and blinking back mounting tears of frustration. Great, just great. It’s the first fucking day of class and it looks like you’re already on his shit list. And for what? For being late on fucking syllabus day! What an ass.

You look over at him as you defiantly finish setting up your computer, hoping each pull of a zipper or screen reboot will grate under his stuck up skin. He’s not inordinately tall, or old. In fact, he looks like he might only be in early 30s. He has long white hair that’s pulled back into a low ponytail and, from what you can make out in the dim lighting, some kinda skin condition on his forehead. That, or he’s prematurely wrinkled, and let’s be honest, if he’s gone through life with that big of a stick up his ass, he deserves each and every pull on that mottled skin of his.

You linger in your seat when class is over, lips pulled into a thin line and legs crossed. Finally, when the last student has left the room, professor Shigaraki flips a switch beside his elevated podium, filling the lecture hall with a sharp, fluorescent light. He pauses by his raised computer system and clicks off the overhead projector, blanketing the massive room in an uncomfortable silence.

“Since you missed the part of class where I go over the syllabus, I’ll give you a brief rundown. Under no circumstances will I tolerate tardiness. If you do it once more I’ll mark you absent and three absences knock you down a full letter grade.”

Glumly, you cross your arms and peer up at him, finally able to get a good look at his face. Your first observation was correct. His skin is sharper around his forehead, but his wavy white hair does a pretty decent job of covering up the imperfections. He has two scars: one nicks across his right eye and the other splits down his rough lips, parting the skin and granting him an even more foreboding appearance than his already gruff demeanor does. He’s dressed in a dark pair of jeans and he’s wearing a low slung v neck shirt. It’s a brilliant red and it brings out that otherworldly glint of his red eyes. Shit, you think bitterly, while he’s not conventionally handsome, he’s not exactly hard on the eyes either.

You shake your head against these unproductive musings and curtly snap out a clipped, ok.

“What was that?” Shigaraki scoffs, tilting his head at your sullen figure. “Speak up.”

“I said,” you bristle, eyes narrowing and chin lifting, “Okay, I apologize for interrupting your lecture, it won’t happen again. But, in my defense, if I’m allowed to do that in this class, I’ve never been in this building before, and it’s not like–”

“You’re a senior, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Then you’ve had four years to figure out the layout of this university. The excuse of ‘being lost,’ isn’t an option for you. You know the buildings and you’re fully capable of turning up early to sort out the rooms.”

You let out a long sigh and look away, mumbling vague protests. This guy is ridiculous. You’re not a science major and it’s not your job to know the ins and outs of each building. How fucking stupid. Who does he think he–

“Speak up. I won’t ask you again.”

You bite your lip and look back at him but he’s moved in that distracted moment, silently stepping down from his raised platform and is now leaning over the first row of chairs, looming over you. You can’t help your sudden flinch as you sink further into your chair, away from him.

“If you’re gonna complain, Ms. (L/N), I’d much rather hear it. Don’t you think It’s rude for you to mutter under your breath about me? You don’t see me doing that to you.”

“Fine,” you blurt out, turning away from his insistent, and all too close, gaze. “I was saying that I’m not a science major. I get that I’m a senior, but you can’t seriously expect me to know every nook and cranny of this campus.”

“No, but I can ask for you to be a little more thoughtful. I put time and effort into my lessons and I won’t have you undermining them by bouncing in here with those legs and that flouncy little skirt.”

You’re about to counter his little haughty speech on politeness when you finally process that final comment he’d breathed out. Flabbergasted, you raise your head back to his, but he’s already moving away, snatching up his shoulder bag and waving you a curt goodbye as he presses open the squeaky door. “Next class is at 10 am sharp, so be on time Ms. (L/N).”

You’re still slumped in your seat when the door glides shut again, your eyes wide and jaw no doubt comically unhinged.

Wait. Did…did he really just say that?

Obviously, for the next class, you’re early. You’re so early that you’re the first one in the lecture hall. You select a seat toward the back and fiddle with your computer, checking your messages, adjusting your brightness, replying to old emails, anything to keep your head down and attention occupied.

The door opens and, despite your best efforts, your head flies up, expectant and tense, ready to meet those red eyes of his head on, to show him you’re here and he better… oh. It’s not him. It’s two chattering freshmen. One of them gives you a quick smile, but they both quickly take their seats, a few rows over, and continue their soft conversation, leaving you to fall back onto your earlier distraction tactics. You twiddle with your phone and shoot off a few texts, change your wallpaper, accidentally close an app you meant to leave open, and then the lecture hall door reopens.

He steps in slowly, completely ignoring you and the other scattered students, opting to sort out a few papers and set up his login on the school computer. The minutes tick by and you can’t seem to jerk your eyes away from him, suddenly fascinated by his languid movements. He looks more relaxed than he did on Monday, looser and fluid, completely in his element. True to his word, at ten am on the dot he begins class.

Professor Shigaraki has an interesting voice. It’s low, calculated, bordering on a rasp. It’s one of those tones that makes you want to lean forward and listen up, even though he’s only discussing cellular biology. Which isn’t exactly the sexiest topic for that shockingly dulcet timbre of his.

Wait. Sexy?

Your pen falters against your notebook, and your eyes drift up to his frame. He’s switched the lights off again and the shine of the overhead projector is the only illumination in the hall. His white hair gleams in the dim lighting and his long hands animatedly illustrate his points, elegant fingers opening and closing, gesticulating about the intricate nature of the human genome. You’re so focused on watching his movements that your elbow partner has to push the slip of paper onto your collapsible desktop. You blink at the sheet, your pen nearly clattering from your hand, and you twist to peer at the unfamiliar student beside you.

“It’s the attendance sheet and, um, I think you’re the last one,” they whisper, careful to lean away after they finish their explanation, not wanting to draw professor Shigaraki’s ire. You maneuver the paper under your pen and scribble down your name, biting your lip and silently berating yourself for your poor selection in seating. Great, now you’ll have to take the paper down to him after class. What if he talks with you again? Shit.

At 11:25, class ends. You collect your things and plod down the steps, the attendance sheet clutched between your fingers. He’s just snapping the projector light off when you reach his podium.

“I, uhh, have the attendance. You want me to just leave it here, or…”

“I’ll take it,” his hand is extended toward you and those red eyes are fixed on you now. It’s not the same disgruntled stare he’d given you on Monday. No, this look is a little more curious. Again, you’re taken aback by your reaction to him. He’s not even saying anything, just patiently waiting for you to deposit the sheet into his open palm, but there’s something about him that’s making your heart race.

Maybe it’s those eyes of his.

They are an unusual color and they have a strange intensity to them. Right as they narrow, the vermillion shining under the sharp lights; you press the paper to him and he pulls it from you, studying the names that are listed.

You want to say something. Maybe toss him a quick, friendly, goodbye. Or apologize for the other day? Ugh. What can you even say? ‘Gosh, so glad I was on time today! All that fascinating information about the genetic code! So glad to be here!’ No, that sounds stupid and a little patronizing. Besides, why do you want to talk with him at all? He’s an ass, remember?

“Did you need something?”

His question snaps you out of your stupor and you numbly shake your head at him, already lowering your gaze, but his exhaled chuckle makes you pause, your fingers curling around your backpack straps.

“I know I upset you the other day, but I appreciate you taking the effort to correct your mistake.”

“Oh,” you breathe, your eyes finding their way back to his. “Yeah, well, like you said, I’m a senior. Gotta take responsibility for myself someday.”

“Ah,” he smirks, that long scar on his lip quirking upward. “Seems like you’ve got some determination after all. You might be more interesting than I gave you credit for.”

“God,” you scoff, popping out a hip and crossing your arms at the bemused leer on his face. “Just come right out and say you think I’m a bad student, why don’t you?”

“Don’t worry,” he amends, tucking the attendance sheet into his shoulder bag and snapping the clasps closed. “There’s plenty of time for you to end up right back at square one with me.”

He’s already halfway out the door by the time you right yourself from the shock of his last comment and you follow him, a string of low curses falling from your lips.

The spring semester always flies by, and before you realize it, a full month has bled away. You’ve kept that same seat in Shigaraki’s class and at the end of each session you head down to his little platform, attendance sheet outstretched. Each day of class has a different ebb and flow. Sometimes he chats with you and it’s gotten easier to talk with him, both of your eyes holding and lingering, lips raised into calculating smiles. Sometimes it almost feels like he’s flirting with you. Other days he only spares you a curt nod, his white hair curtaining his expression from your curious gaze. You’re not bothered by these silences, not when you’ve got your secret weapon.

The days that you like best, the ones that you plan, sorting through your closet until you’ve found the perfect choice, are the days when you wear one of your skirts. You’d even gone on some skirt shopping sprees as of late. On those days he doesn’t just make some sort of fleeting eye contact with you, no, on those days he stares.

At first, you’d tested out your theory, staggering your outfits, careful to not screw up your suspicions with a hasty miscalculation, but as they say, the third time’s the charm. How did he expect you not to notice? He never bothers to hide those sharp ogles and recently you’ve made a point of dramatically gathering your things when you wear these cute little ensembles, bopping down the steps so his eyes have to work to follow the line of your hips and the long paths of your bare legs. One rainy afternoon you’d worn over the knee stockings, that came to an abrupt halt over the plush skin of your upper thigh, under your mini skirt and he’d practically leapt over the podium to grab the sheet from you, his eyes hooded and dark, almost wild.

“Test, on Friday,” he warns, eyes finally rising to meet your bemused expression. “Don’t stay out too late tonight.”

“What makes you say that?” you ask, brushing at a rogue fold in your skirt, luring him back to your legs.

He scoffs at you, that jagged scar arching into a smirk. “Humph. You’re dressed up. Most of the students just wear the sweats, or pjs, and call it a day.”

“I like to put a little effort in all that I do,” you retort, grinning up at his vermillion stare.

“Yes, so I’ve noticed. You certainly look the part…and you’re keeping up with the workload of this course.”

“Ahhh,” you crow, clapping your hands excitedly. “Are you saying I might get an ‘A’ in this class? Be the first time someone’s done that in a while, from what I’ve heard around campus.”

Shigaraki sneers and tuts out an inaudible reply, leaning a little closer to you, making you inadvertently fall back a step. “Don’t push your luck.”

“Awe,” you pout, crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m doing ok on all the quizzes and the classwork.”

“So far,” he taunts, his pearlescent hair falling over his broad shoulder.

“Tch. Don’t be like that. I’ve been studying.”

“Sometimes it takes more than that.”

“Oh?” you smile, raising your chin. “What else should I be doing, professor?”

“We’ll know that after Friday, won’t we?”

God.

You’d felt so confident when you’d turned in your test and that stupid, horrible, sexy little quirk of his lip scar that he sends you, when you’d handed him your papers, carries you on some strange, half aroused cloud all weekend. Maybe, just maybe, this class won’t be so bad after all.

The tests are handed back the following Friday, passed from row to row so everyone can fish out their papers and marked Scantrons. Yours, since you still occupy that final seat on the back row, is the last. Biting back a grin, you flip it over, so ready to see that A, that grade that you worked so fucking hard for, that… wait.

The gross flash of red across the top of your paper leaves you reeling, your breath catching against the back of your throat. It’s not a terrible grade, well, it wouldn’t be, but there are only three tests in this class, so it’s going to plummet you down to a B. One more fuck up will leave you with a C, or worse, an automatic failing grade.

No. No, no, no, no.

You can’t afford a bad grade, you honestly can’t even let yourself slip to a B. Your fucking cap and gown have just come in and with them that cord that you can wear around your neck at graduation. The one that marks you as honors cum laude. Fuck. You’re already pulling one B, in one of your other classes, because you’ve been focusing so much time and effort on this one. Another B will strip that cord from you, leaving you barren, with a less than ideal GPA.

God fucking damn it.

You glare up at Shigaraki, who’s busy taking the rest of the class through a review of genetic mutations, but you can’t hear him anymore, too incensed, too overwhelmed to even care about what he’s saying. The test crumples under your fingertips, the paper shaking in your hands, and you seethe, your teeth biting your lower lip to pieces.

It’s not fair. You’d paid attention. You’ve taken all the notes. Read all the chapters. Drilled and studied till your eyes had drooped, heavy with exhaustion. You’ve done it all right. Plus, he’d been so fucking flirty, so open with you. You’ve never chatted with a professor this way, never gone out of your way to wear clothes they like, that make them watch you, their eyes hungry pinpricks as you walk to them, mindful of the luscious sway of your hips.

No. Fuck him. Fuck this class.

Before your elbow classmate can leave, you ask for them to hand in the attendance sheet. You barely hear their response, too busy slamming your laptop into your backpack. As you storm past the podium, you can feel his eyes on you. The distant sensation of his gaze makes your flesh prickle, but you ignore your involuntary reaction and shove your way out the door.

“(Y/N), you can’t switch classes this late. It’s almost midterms. Besides, I don’t think anything has opened up and if you’re going to drop it, you’ve gotta get the signature of the professor,” your advisor tells you, blinking at your stony expression over his thick glasses. “I don’t get it. Why do you want to drop it? Your grades are alright and it’s just one test. You can always try–”

“Gimme the paperwork.”

Shigaraki’s office is on the top floor of the research building, tucked away down another winding and weaving hallway that once again requires your careful inspection to navigate. When you finally hit the right set of doors, you slowly make your way forward, counting the numbers up as you pass. His door is wide open, a yawning cavern that’s filled with the distant light of a lamp. You brush a hand down your skirt, smoothing away any wrinkles and steadying your nerves.

You’d tossed on the skirt this morning, before you’d gotten the grade, and you hadn’t thought to go home and change, too consumed by that simmering rage bubbling within you. And now, like this fucking class, this skirt felt like a mistake, something stupid and vapid that you wished you had time to change out of. He’d told you he liked your attire, liked that you put effort into your outfits. At the time, you’d been so thrilled and excited that he’d complimented you, but now you wish you were confronting him in baggy jeans or lazy sweats, anything that would turn that avid gaze of his away from you.

Lost in thought, you waver beside his open door, nibbling on your lips and tugging at your clothes. It’s now or never. No point in putting it off. What’s the worst that can happen? What can he do now? Or, a darker side of you whispers, what do you want him to do to you? What? That’s a stupid thought, you scold yourself, lifting a hand to the wall and rapping against the beige paint, announcing your presence.

When the sound fades away, swallowed up by the empty and darkened hallway, you poke your head around the corner, searching for him. His head is tilted quizzically, and he blinks twice when he spots you, that all too familiar smirk lifting his lips.

“Ah, Ms. (L/N), what can I do for you?”

His voice is softer than usual and your name sounds like honey, his tone resting on the syllables and consonants for a beat, almost as if he’s savoring their lift, their sound. You can’t help but swallow heavily at his appraisal. Suddenly this may be a terrible idea.

Ugh. Get a grip (Y/N).

“I-I need you to sign this withdrawal paperwork,” you finally reply, digging in your bag and tugging out the thin leaflet, holding it out to him. He’s silent after your demand, meditatively threading his fingers and peering up at you, his red eyes bright.

“Step inside and shut the door behind you,” he instructs, his gaze never falling from yours. Despite the simplicity of his request, you can’t help but bristle at his imperious tone. Why does he always have to sound like that? Like he’s seconds away from taking control of the situation, or of you? He’s always one stupid step ahead, and no doubt he’s going to try and talk you down. Or, he’ll sign it and say that he always knew you were a screw up, someone who only did things halfway, who could never match up to his lofty expectations. Humph, the sooner you’re outta here and out of his class, the better. So, you obey, closing the door and petulantly flopping into the unsteady chair that sits in front of his low desk.

He maintains that uneasy quiet, his red eyes whisking over your disgruntled face, waiting, watching. Unable to take this strange standoff, you push the university paperwork toward him, sliding it as close as you dare to his bent elbows. “I would like to withdraw from your class,” you repeat, lips setting into a thin line.

“Why?” he asks, cocking his head so his loose white hair falls a little further down his rough brow.

“Something came up.”

“Hmm, I can try to work with a new schedule, if it’s your job, or home life,” he counters, eyes narrowing as he sharpens his observations of your brittle expression.

“It’s not that,” you smart, crossing your arms. Great, he’s going to make this difficult.

“Then I suggest you tell me what’s on your mind,” Shigaraki replies, mirroring your movements and leaning back in his chair.

“I don’t think this class is working out for me.”

He exhales a soft laugh at your lie, and you watch that tiny mole at the edge of his chin lift in his quiet mirth. “This is a freshman level course and you’re a senior. You’re in my class because it’s likely the last pre-rec that you need to take before you graduate.”

“Um, yeah. But–”

“And now, you’re wanting to drop it because of one poor grade.”

You grind your teeth and fix him with a stark glower. “I–”

“There will be two other tests. If you read your syllabus, you’d know this.”

“I read the syllabus. Your tests are worth a stupid amount of points and it only takes one of them to tank my grade.”

“Frankly, you did better than most of the class. You only need to work on practical application. I said that the written portion would be a major component of the exam. I also provided you with a review and a rubric. So I’m not sure–”

“Your grade drops me to a ‘B’, and that ‘B’ pulls me from the honors list. And… well… I thought that…”

“Oh? What did you think?” he presses, his voice suddenly dropping to that lower octave it had drifted into when he said your last name.

“I thought I’d get a better grade,” you spit out, turning your head and biting at your lip again.

“Why?” he counters simply. His obtuseness is making your blood boil.

“What do you mean, why?” It takes all of your will to not slip a ‘jackass’ into that question.

“It’s not a hard thing to answer. I graded you fairly and according to my rubric. Why exactly do you feel you merit a different grade than the one you earned?”

You fall into a frustrated silence. You can hear your heart pounding against your ribs and you want to scream at him, to leap over his desk and shake him until his teeth fucking rattle. Your shoulders are rising and lowering disjointedly and his vermillion eyes are honed in on your face, shifting over your pinched expression with a distant interest. You can feel tears pricking at your eyes and you hastily rub a fist over them, brushing away any rogue drops of moisture.

“How can you ask me that? You think I didn’t notice you staring at my legs? Or that you always had something to say to me when I was wearing a skirt? What was I supposed to think, huh? I fucking thought shit like that was gonna help, ok? God, I’m so stupid. I can’t… fuck.”

Shigaraki arches forward when you finish, a deep sigh leaching through his parted lips. His teeth snap together when you look up at him, your eyes gaining back some of that earlier defiance, and he gives you a quick grin, clearly pleased by your shift in attitude and pushes your paper aside, fixing you with a dark look. “Here’s a thought, since you feel you’re so different, I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you a chance to make up the score.”

“I don’t care about the score anymore. I wanna drop your class,” you snap, but it’s a halfhearted barb. Something has changed in his demeanor. He’s dropped the concerned professor act and is leaning so close you can hear his steady intakes of air. He’s only a few inches away; if you want, you could touch him.

“I doubt you want to attend a class in the summer. Besides, they won’t let you walk if you haven’t finished your freshman level courses. And you can’t tell me you don’t want to graduate, to earn that cord that lets you into the honor cum laude. So stop pouting and hear me out. I think you’ll like what I have in mind.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever like anything about you,” your voice is sharper than you mean it to be, but the challenge makes Shigaraki smile. As it crosses his cracked lips, it pulls that scar up and it makes those eyes of his glow. He looks like the cat that’s got the cream and you’re not sure how to respond, so you cross your legs and wait for him to make the next move.

“You sure about that? Well, I’ll have to change your tune then, won’t I? But that can wait, lemme tell you what my requirements are. I’ve got a copy of the textbook in here. I’ll have you review some of the major concepts, you’ll read the passages aloud so I’m sure you’re on the right track, you’ll hand the book back to me, and then I’ll verbally quiz you over the material. If you answer them correctly, I’ll bump you to an ‘A’ on your test.”

You have to actively work to keep your mouth closed. “So, you just want me to read from the book?”

“Yes.”

“And… answer questions?”

“That’s what I said,” Shigaraki smirks, already reaching toward his bookshelf, tugging the heavy Intro to Biology text out and shifting it into his large hands.

“Stop being so suspicious,” Shigaraki scolds, drawing your wandering attention back to him. “I don’t bite, that is, unless you want me to.”

Your eyes boggle and you have to clench your thighs tighter, your stomach churning, you feel light-headed and you can feel your core fluttering with your sudden arousal. “Wh-what did you just say?”

“Stop gaping at me like that, you’ll make me blush. Now come on.”

Your jaw snaps closed and you shake your head, trying to clear your mind from your whirling emotions. He takes this reaction as a surrender and stands, stepping toward a marred table that rests a little ways away from his desk. He licks his thumb pad and flips through a few pages before finally settling on an appealing section. Once he places it on the table, he twists back to you and crooks a finger your way. “Come here,” he orders, his voice deep and languid. Obediently, you rise on unsteady feet, hands tugging at the length of your skirt, careful to keep it pressed down as you walk toward him.

He makes space for you to stand in front of the book and shifts back, one hand resting on the table, propping him close to your bent figure. You look up at him, but he only nods his head toward the table, a wicked smile curling the corners of his lips. Blink a few times but finally, the words clear and you can see the block of text that’s in front of you. It’s passages on DNA encodes and RNA proteins, hefty stuff, things that you had to make flash cards for. This isn’t going to be easy. If anything, he’s picked some of the harder concepts, the ones that take steady knowledge in the foundations. Flustered, you look back to him, but he’s moved. He’s leaning against the wide window beside the table, a dark mark against the glass.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, a laugh bubbling in his tone.

“There’s no way…” you stammer, shaking your head at him.

“Want me to throw a curve in?”

“I should ask what kinda curve, but knowing you, it’s likely gonna be something terrible.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” he rumbles, stepping away from the window and leaning close to your stiff form. “It just takes an open mind and some enthusiasm on your part.”

“Enthusiasm?” you question, trying your best to withstand his closeness. You can feel the heat radiating off of his broad shoulder and if you tilt a little nearer, you could graze against him, or feel his breath on your skin.

“You’re right,” he amends, his forearm contacting your side. You startle at the touch, a gasp falling from your lips, but you don’t pull away and you can’t stop staring up at him, your eyes wide. “Obedience is a better word. From here on out, whatever I tell you to do, I expect you to obey it, although it’s not exactly, ah, school approved.”

“You want me to suck you off or something?” you sneer, hoping to stumble him off his guard, even if it’s only for an instant. Too bad he’s always one step ahead.

“Don’t be vulgar. Think outside of the box, (Y/N). Do you think I’m going to go for something so short sighted when I could have you bending to my will? Obeying every little demand that I make? I’d much rather see if that skin of yours tastes as good as it looks, then simply have you on your knees. No, I want you to fucking scream for me while I stuff you full of my cock. But first, you need to put in some work. You should know that by now.”

Oxygen is suddenly very hard to come by and you can feel your mind hazing over as you stammer up at him, your mind flitting from word to word disjointedly. Shigaraki grants you a wolfish grin, and he dips his lips beside your ear, whispering over those tiny hairs that rest against your tender skin. “I’ll make this part easy. Nod and I’ll give you the first set of instructions.”

What did he say? Nod? What happens when you nod? Fuck, why are you letting him do this? Is your grade really worth it? Are you that desperate that… that…

Shigaraki is whispering other promises over you as you war with yourself, speaking his words gently, slowly, his breath hot as it fans over your neck. It’s like you’ve fallen under some kinda spell and before you realize it, your traitorous head is bobbing up and down, letting him know you want him to keep going.

“Perfect,” he sighs, his lips grazing over the shell of your ear, jerking a shiver from you. “Now, lean forward and put your hands against the table.”

You do as he says, but he’s not satisfied with your positioning, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and yanking you forward, jutting your ass out and pressing your chest down, maneuvering you until your nose is right above the pages of the textbook. “There we go,” he rasps, pulling away so he can admire your splayed form. “Hmm, your legs are too close together. Spread them.” Knees trembling, you obey, gasping when he runs a palm against the curve of your thighs.

“You’ve got such nice legs (Y/N), so let’s put them on display, shall we?” His fingers search against the top of your skirt and they still when he reaches his prize: the zipper. When he pulls it down, you let out a sharp squeak of protestation but he silences you with a swift pinch to your side.

“Now, now, don’t be like that. You nodded, remember? Besides, you could have left when I told you I’d give you a curve but you couldn’t help yourself could you? You want me to keep going and to do that, I need you to take this skirt off. No, don’t move. I’ll get rid of it for you. Why don’t you focus on the task at hand, hmm? Aren’t you supposed to be reading for me?”

You arch away from his fingers and he chuckles at your impudence, one large hand hooking under your chin and pulling you toward his face. His red eyes blaze as they find yours, the dark pupils threatening to swallow up that deep vermillion. “Let’s start with the second paragraph. If you do well, I might grant you a reprieve.”

Jerking your face from his grip, you twist back to the text, trying, and failing, to ignore his inquisitive fingers, unable to resist sighing as he works one up your inner thigh. He pauses when no words fall from your lips and you grumble out a few low curses before acquiescing to his silent demand.

“The flow of genetic information in cells from DNA to mRNA to protein is described by the Central Dogma, which states that genes specify the sequence of mRNAs, which specify the sequence of proteins. The decoding of one molecule… the… the… molecule… by spec-specific…”

He’s slipped your skirt down over the swell of your ass, but he’s taking his time, flexing out the front of the material and dipping his fingers over the bump of your lower stomach, kneading into the delicate flesh that’s stretched out for him. You can’t help the twitch of your spine and you involuntarily wiggle, palms slipping forward, dragging you further along the tabletop. Shigaraki chuckles above you, running his rough lips over the back of your neck.

“You’re so sensitive. I’ve barely touched you.”

He circles his hands back to your skirt and edges it along, lowering it sharply on one side and then giving the same treatment to the other. You’re doing your best to keep up with your stammering readings, but it’s difficult when he keeps sighing and running his long nails across your newly bared skin. Finally, he works the skirt down and it thumps against your bare ankles; the fabric tickling your skin.

Meanwhile, his other fingers skitter against the elastic band of your rapidly dampening panties. Once he hooks the lace under his hand, he yanks them along your legs, trailing them sinfully slowly, ensuring that they glide down the billow of your thighs. His teeth nip at your ear when you stumble to a halt in your recitation and your hands tense over the grains of wood beneath them, your nails pinching into your palms. “If you stop, I stop,” he warns, his head bumping against yours, his sharp nose pressing against your pulse.

“You’re not exactly making this easy,” you grumble, doing your best to ignore his renewed pets and strokes.

“Stop complaining,” he smirks, leaning away from your head to peer at your newly exposed flesh. “You better pay attention to what you’re reading or you’re not going to pass the questions I’ll be asking you.”

“Yeah, yeah, ow!” you squawk, whipping your head around to glare up at him. He fucking pinched you again! This time, he’d slipped his hand between your spread legs and tweaked your inner thigh, painfully.

“Read,” he repeats, running those guilty fingers upward, lingering beside the heat of your cunt, careful to not get too close. When you start on the next sentence, one of his hands tugs up the fabric of your shirt, snaking upward until he’s thumbing against the wire of your bra. Once again, you falter to a halt and exhale a wavering breath.

Goddamn it. This review is no review. You’ll be lucky if you can even recall what a cell is if he keeps this up. You hear his ominous intake of air and quickly resume your recitation, mumbling something about RNA and mRNA differences.

Wait. Didn’t you just…

“Looks like you’re having trouble listening to me. I told you to read aloud, not to repeat the same passages over and over.”

“Hey, at least I’ll have a firm grasp on those. You should ask me something about that s-section… ah–”

The hand that was resting under the cup of your bra has made its way underneath the lightly padded material, and his thumb and index fingers have trapped your peaked nipple between them. As soon as your snarky comment left your mouth, he’d twisted the bud, squeezing it until it throbbed.

“Pay attention,” he commands, shoving your bra upward, freeing the globes of your breasts and cupping both of his broad hands under them. Your abused nipple stings and the mixture of sharp pain and jarring arousal goes right through you, stoking that coil that pulsed within your core, and sending a tacky flush of your essence down your spread thighs.

The next few words are a struggle. The text keeps blurring and your breaths are coming in fast and heavy. Shigaraki is still feeling you up, keeping his lips close to your ears, rasping sharp commands to you and dealing out lightning fast rounds of pinches and squeezes each time you falter.

“I–I can’t… I don’t even know what I’m reading anymore,” you bemoan, your hips pressing against the edge of the table, legs trembling as you attempt to keep them apart. He’s deliberately ignoring your throbbing clit and a desperate edge is creeping into your voice.

“Are you always this whiny? Fine. I’ll give you a moment to read without any distractions.”

Thank God.

True to his word, he slips away from your back and you’re left shivering against his sudden absence. Despite your quaking, you’re determined to make the most of this chance and you quickly read out the paragraphs that are on the second page. As you ramble down to the last bit of text, you realize you can’t hear him anymore and when you finish the last sentence; you start to really wonder where he’s drifted off to. A tense silence follows your completion of the material and you arch up on the tips of your toes, jutting your ass out and stretching the stiffened muscles of your lower back.

“Didn’t say you could stop reading, and judging from all of your complaints, I don’t think you got some of those earlier concepts, so I’d suggest doing a quick review,” he taunts, the sudden rasp of his voice startling a low gasp from your lips.

He’s close; somewhere behind you and to the left from the sound of it. You try to twist around, your chest lifting from the table, and when he notices, his hands return, creating a rough pressure against your neck as he forces your body back down. His weight plasters you to the surface, scraping your partially exposed stomach and tender breasts over the nicked wood. Shigaraki is merciless in his swift correction, his breath puffing out angrily behind you. “Didn’t say you could move, either.”

Stunned, you freeze. Your arms are arched awkwardly, but he keeps his weight against you, flattening your breasts and forcing your back to arch into an awkward bend. Fuck, you think, how are you supposed to stay like this? Your legs are already aching and if he shifts away again, he’s likely going to expect you to maintain this absurd pose.

“Yes,” he groans, his voice catching against the word, “Good girl. Now, stay just like that.”

Damn it.

“Go on, read the first part again,” he instructs.

“The entire genetic content of a cell is known as its genome and the study of genomes is gen-genomics. In eukaryotic cells, but… but not in p-prokaryotes, DNA forms a complex with histone proteins… with histone proteins… sub-substance… of…”

His teeth have latched onto your neck, and he’s sucking bruises into your tender skin. He’s still pinning you to the table, but his hands are widening their explorations. He’s started dragging a fingernail across the puffy folds of your cunt, teasing against the dripping and swollen flesh, chuckling when you buck against his hold.

“You always seem to lose it when you get to cellular modulations.”

“I–I–It’s not… I can’t help that you keep…” you whimper, your fingers curling under your palms, head shaking back and forth. You can’t think. He’s not being fucking fair, and you can’t even string your goddamn words together. Shit. “Y-you’re not being fair,” you accuse, falling on the only thing that keeps running through your mind, your splayed feet shifting uncomfortably under you.

“Not fair? Not once did I say fairness would come into this arrangement,” he lifts himself off of your back and leans beside you, one arm planted beside your crooked elbow. His fingers trace over the curve of your ass, cupping at the thickest part of you and squeezing.

“But don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get a little satisfaction out of this arrangement. I bet you look good when you cum. And you’ve been working so hard to get my attention these last few months. So careful to do what I tell you. Looking at me with those big eyes of yours, all wide eyed every time I catch you looking at me. And don’t even get me started on your lips. You’re lucky I didn’t fucking bend you over after class, especially when you started wearing all of those cute little skirts for me. Ahhh, don’t moan like that, I won’t be able to help myself if you do. Let’s see how you’re doing, shall we?”

Without warning, he slips his longest digit into your cunt, groaning loudly when he’s sucked into your welcoming heat. Your pussy, hungry for any kind of scrap, ripples around his intrusion, clamping and pulling, desperate for more.

“Fuck,” he groans, his weight falling against your shoulder. “You’re soaking.” His elegant digit pushes deeper and you roll your hips under him, urging him closer, sighing when he sinks to the last knuckle. As he pulls his finger back, he adds another, swiftly v-ing the two before curving them together as they slip back out, dragging a steady line of pleasure from your quivering cunt. Shigaraki whispers another round of awed praise against your ear, his voice dark and breathless.

A third digit is added on another trip out, and it creates a ragged sensation within you. It’s close to what you like, but he’s stretching you too far and it’s starting to hurt. He either needs to speed up, or give you a little more pressure. If you can hump your clit against the edge of the table, maybe it’ll give you the friction that you need. When you mindlessly buck your hips, your thighs threatening to lose that spread, he stops, holding his fingers inside you, laughing as you agitatedly try to shift him back into his earlier rhythm.

“So eager. I’d say you’re ready for my questions.”

“W-what?” you gasp, wholly focused on making him restart the push and pull of his fingers inside you.

“I’ll start you off with something easy. What’s the cell membrane?”

“W-what? The cell… ah–”

“Answer me. Now,” he grunts, leaning forward, re-steadying you as his fingers pull outward, dragging against your sensitive folds and schlicking through your arousal lewdly, loudly. You moan and your eyes roll back, completely ignoring his demand as you fall into the haze of pleasure that comes after his movements.

His free hand travels up your neck and he tangles his fingers into the tendrils of your hair, yanking and jerking at the strands, demanding your attention.

“I said, answer me.”

“Shigaraki–I–fuck. I can’t even… ugh… think right now!”

“Do you want the grade, or not?” he questions, his voice tense. “Answer correctly and I’ll give you what you want.”

“I–I don’t think I can,” you whine, pressing your hips back as he thrusts his fingers forward again, curving them upward, searching for the spongy pad of nerves that rest against the front of your pelvis.

“Oh? What happened to wanting that A? What about your graduation? You gonna let me fuck up your entire college career? I can do it, you know. I’ve done it to so many simpering freshmen. I fail kids left and right and you’re no different, (Y/N).

The university lets me ahh–there it is! God, you’re so fucking wet.

Where was I? The university can’t say no to me; they let me do what I want. I bring in too much money, too many tempting grants, and that’s all they really care about. So what’s it gonna be? Let me see that you can answer this basic crap and I’ll pass you. Or would you like for me to tie you down and force it outta you another way?”

He’s picked up the pace of his fingers as he rambles over you and a swift press against that newly discovered spot inside you has you falling to pieces in his hands, popping up onto your tiptoes and rutting yourself against the surface of the table. “O-ok, God, ok! Just–fucking repeat the goddamn question,” you pant, head slumping forward, forcing his fingers to tighten against your hair to hold you upright.

“What is the cell membrane?”

You wince your eyes closed, trying to rack your brain to focus on something other than the heavy pressure of the three fingers that are teasing their way across your dribbling pussy. He’s moving his presses with a lackadaisical, inconsistent rhythm now and it’s hard to fucking think. You can’t tell if his next thrust will be hard, or soft, or so rough that it’s bordering on that bittersweet line of pain.

You shake your head, doing your best to ignore the mounting pressure that he’s building inside you and the ache of your neck and legs. Finally, after another sharp tap against that secret bunch of nerves at the front of your cunt, you latch onto a vague remembrance.

“It… it’s a double layer of–of phospholipids that make a boundary between the cell and t-the surrounding… ugh… it controls the passage of materials.”

“Very good. Elaborate on the cellular wall.”

He’s unrelenting in his domineering treatment, twisting and frigging his fingers each time your breath hitches, and your arousal is leaking down your legs, making your skin stick and pull. It’s too much, you can’t! How can he even ask this? Words are falling from your lips incoherently, and all too soon you’re gasping out his name rather than reciting the answer.

“Cellular–oh, fuck, Shi–Shigaraki–Please, keep–don’t stop! S-Shigaraki, God that… feels… ah–keep going!”

He ignores your request and pulls his fingers away, robbing you of that sweet pressure that he’s so carefully mounted within you.

“I’ll count that one as incorrect. Your ‘A’ is swiftly becoming an ‘A’ minus, (Y/N)” he snarls, his teeth gritted, hands falling to the swell of your hips, wet fingers digging into your soft skin.

“What? No! You didn’t give me enough… e-enough time! How can–can you expect me to answer that qui-quickly!”

“Let’s try another.”

It hurts. That ache that he’s drawn out of you is starting to sting and throb and he’s being such a dick about it! You twist and grind under him, and he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“I don’t–” you protest weakly, your legs trembling and chest heaving under his weight.

“Do you want this? Wouldn’t you like to pass this class? To graduate with honors?” he growls, leaning closer, his hands braced against you, his fingers no doubt leaving bruises on the supple crest of your hips.

“You’re such an ass! Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then answer another question. What’s diffusion?”

“D-diffu-diffusion is the process by which molecules move from an a-area of… of… fuck- of high concentration, to low concentration. Shigaraki!”

“I should count that as another miss, but you got the major concept correct.” He removes his fingers from your waist and yanks your ass toward him, keeping your overeager hips away from the fleeting relief of the sturdy table. “Pop your legs together,” he commands, one hand wrapping around your arched throat, squeezing until you obey. His other hand drops to that thatch of curls that rest between your quivering thighs and he gathers up your gossamer strands, rubbing against your clit for one hazy instant, sending a flash of spots across your vision.

“Mmm, now that’s a pretty sight. Good girl, don’t move,” he reminds you and you want to scream at him. Right before you can spit some frustrated vitriol out, he’s releasing your neck, his hands dropping from your skin and letting you fall back to the uneven surface below. Just before your chin contacts the wood, his hand is back in your hair, tugging you upward, holding you a few inches above the table. The sharp pain makes your scalp tingle and you unconsciously rut against the tempting heat that’s now plastered to your ass. He’s hard. You can feel the stiff bulge of his cock straining against the front of his dark jeans, pressing into the cleft of your posterior.

“T-that’ can’t be comfortable,” you pant, twisting your head so you can look up at him from the curve of your shoulder.

“Oh? You worried about my cock?” he asks, his red eyes flashing down at you challengingly. You don’t bother giving him a verbal response, opting instead to grind your ass up, catching against the jut of his length, earning yourself a low groan. His lips curl when you repeat the motion and you realize you love watching that smug face of his drift into a look of tense pleasure. It makes his scar on his lip flush and those red eyes of his fall to a lazy half mast. He spies your arched brow and pleased grin and pushes himself off of you, leaving you alone and open on the table.

“Keep pushing your luck. I’m more than happy to drop you back to a B.”

“What?” you scoff, teeth clinking together as you clench your jaw. “I didn’t move!”

“No, but you’re trying to take control of this and we can’t have that can we?” Shigaraki sneers. “Now, how shall I punish you?”

“P-punish me?” you stammer, a chill racing down your spine.

“Ah, I know. This’ll really piss you off,” he twists from your strained gaze and walks back toward his desk. What? What the fuck does he mean? You can’t see him from this angle, not with the way your legs are stretched and back is lowered, but it doesn’t stop you from trying, your chin lifting upwards as you do your best to keep him in focus.

Ugh. It’s no use. He’s slipped past your field of vision.

Hearing is likely your best bet, so you shift your forehead back to the table and listen, straining your ears to pick up any morsel. Something opens and closes and you catch the sound of the wheels of his chair as they shift, squeaking across the floor, and the groaning of the springs when his weight is applied to the cheap leather.

Okay, so he’s in his chair. Is he just gonna look at you? That’s not… wait…

There’s a faint clicking sound.

It’s both familiar and unfamiliar to your ears, but once the teeth slide over the last pull, you realize. It’s a zipper.

Oh fuck. Is he going to jerk himself off? With a gasp, your head whips back around. He’s still positioned himself away from you, and you can only just make out the sounds that are accompanying the undoubted rise and fall of his fist. All you can see is a tiny sliver of his body, but you catch sight of the coiling muscles on his neck and you notice that his head is dipped forward, pearl white hair settling across the cut of his collarbone. The one red eye that meets yours is blazing and hungry, it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand up.

God, he’s staring at you, watching you, getting himself off as you’re half naked and bent over a desk in his office, fully subjugating yourself to his whims and fancies for the sake of your grade.

Damn it, (Y/N). This should not be a fucking turn on. You should be disgusted, but the flush of slick that drips down your thigh says otherwise.

He lets out a choked moan, picking up the pace of his hand, letting you hear the click and slip of his palm as it strokes up and down his cock. A shiver echoes up your spine and your hips seem to have a mind of their own, grinding your clenched thighs over the dip of the table, easing the clenching pulsations that your cunt is shuddering through you.

“Look at you, so desperate for my touch that you’re humping the fucking table. Such a dirty girl, and so disobedient. You’ve only answered a few of my questions correctly and yet your slutty little mouth and body keep pushing at me. Making me put you in your place. Let me ask you something, why should I go out of my way to fix your grade when you can’t even prove to me you understand the simplest concepts?

Ah, here’s a thought. What if I told you I’ll wave the other requirements; no more readings, no more quizzes, but I won’t let you cum? What if I just get myself off? You’re putting on a such a good show for me! Why should I bother with seeing that you’re satisfied when that table seems to do the job for you? Sound good? Or would you like for me to come back over there and make you cum?”

“I–I don’t… I don’t want…” You can’t get the words out, your tongue feels leaden between your lips and you can’t think of anything but the steady itch that’s spreading from your clit.

“Speak up,” Shigaraki demands, slowing his jerking fingers. The chair he’s sitting in groans as he leans forward, and his eyes wide as they take in the delicious sight that’s propped before him. “You don’t want to cum? Is that it? You’d like for me to get myself off and leave you there?”

“No!” you cry out, your fingers digging into the scuffed wood of the table. “I-I want you to make me cum.”

There’s a sharp clatter and you jump at the abrupt noise. It must be the chair you think, your heart pounding against your chest, waiting for Shigaraki’s next move. He only lets a few seconds drift by before he presses himself back to you. He leans his broad chest over your back, the front of his legs pushing against the back of yours. His exposed length is wedged firmly against the cleft of your ass and its tempting hardness makes you squirm under him, but he’s propelling you forward, pinning you against the rough wood, and you can only flail uselessly under his control. His lips skim over your neck and he bites into your skin, sucking and licking bruises as he inches closer to your pulse.

You say his name pitifully, wantonly, and he lets out a shaky gasp. Something about your tone has shifted something within him and you can feel his cock swelling, dripping a rope of wet pre-cum down your shaking leg.

He leans away, removing his sticky hardness from your ass. “Seems your priorities have shifted. You’re a little preoccupied right now, aren’t you?” he asks, his voice gravel scraping against your overwhelmed senses. You let out a weak moan and he snaps into action, his fingers pushing under your flattened stomach and tugging against the fabric that he finds. He yanks you upward, pulling your shirt up as he goes. His palms dip under your half lifted bra, and he cups at your breasts, massaging the rounded bulbs and plucking at your peaked nipples. Your head lolls back, and he sucks at your earlobe again, his breath warm and rasping as it passes by.

“Hold still,” he commands.

It’s not an easy position, this stretched upward arch that he’s forced you into, but it’s worth it when you feel his cock pushing between your tensed legs. He doesn’t thrust into you, opting to run his weeping tip against your slippery folds, pressing until his bulbous head is twitching against your pulsing clit.

Goddamn it, you think as he stills, his lips smacking open-mouthed kisses over your shoulder, it’s not enough. You wiggle your hips back and forth and he abruptly exerts a firm pressure against your windpipe, leaving you sputtering and gasping. “What’s wrong? Not happy with this? Do you think you deserve something more? Do you think you’ve earned that?” He shoves you back against the surface of the table, his broad chest following the plane of your back, trapping you under his heavy form.

You’d replied, you know you must have, but you can’t hear yourself anymore, your attention attuned to the warm length that’s pressed against your shuddering folds. You’d likely thrown in a please for good measure because Shigaraki rewards you with a quick peck to your shivering neck and his thumb, swirling it around your clit, creating a cresting ache that leaves you mumbling incoherently, a thin line of drool slipping from your parted lips. As he keeps that faint osculation up, your fingernails scrape over the wood of the table, your feet lifting you onto your toes, curving your back, and shoving your leaking pussy into his open palm.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Shigaraki says, a breathy desperation lingering around the edges of his rasping voice. “But it’s just not enough, right?”

You nod, licking up some of the excess saliva that’s built under your heavy tongue and crane your head back at him. His eyes are the first thing you see. They’re wild, ravenous and glinting with a roughness that makes you whisper out a soft whine. Fuck. It’s not supposed to be like this. You’re not supposed to want him this badly. Goddamn it. Now that he’s caught your gaze, he won’t let you look away, and he presses himself closer, his cock twitching and warm, the tip rubbing back and forth, keeping time with his circling thumb.

“You gonna fuck me, or not?” you finally ask, unsticking your lips and smirking up at his hardened face.

“Tch. Don’t rush me,” he grumbles, removing his hand and teasing cock from your cunt, watching as your body convulses under him, your pussy quivering against the excess stimulation that he’s wrought over you. Your thighs burn, aching to break free from his control, to rub against that throb, that tingling that keeps shuddering outward.

“One more question,” he tells you, lifting his dripping thumb to his lips and sucking off the traces of your arousal. The sight of him licking his pink tongue over his gleaming knuckles almost makes you lose your balance, your arms shaking precariously under you.

“A-another? Come on,” you pout, your eyes following the curve of his wicked lips, watching as his scar quirks upward, amused by your useless defiance.

“Make you a deal, answer it correctly and I’ll give you my cock. Sound fair?”

“Ugh, whatever, just hurry up,” you snap, so impatient and turned on that you can hardly think.

The tip of his cock presses against your sopping entrance, pushing forward just enough to part your dripping folds but stopping before he clears that first, tight ring of flesh. The promise of his dribbling tip makes you lose any semblance of self-control. You thrash under him, but he traps your disobedient hips against the rough siding of the table.

“No! Don’t stop! Come on Sh-Shigaraki–Don’t be such a fucking–ah–”

“Do you want this? Do you want my cock?” he growls, leaning over you, his fingers squeezing down, no doubt leaving bruises in the supple crest of your hips.

“Yes! Fuck, please! I–I want it so fucking bad!” you cry out, your voice drifting into a sob as you croak out the last plea.

“Then you better answer. What are cytosines?”

“They… they’re n-nitrogenous base… fuck… base that pair… that pair with guanine during D-DNA replication… I–please, please, Shigaraki! Fuck me! I want your cock! Fuck me, fuck me!”

Thankfully, he either takes pity on you, or can’t control himself anymore, his hips surging forward, gliding his thick length into your cunt and snarling at the mind numbing heat that waits for him. He keeps driving upward until he bottoms out, sharp hipbones grinding against the plushness of your ass.

He’s not gentle with you, no he’s animalistic and raw, his thrusts papping into you with a terrifying strength. You would have liked something slower, something that lets you enjoy each imperfection and dip that raced along his cock, but this, oh, this is an exception because this is perfect. It’s not what you want, but it is what you need.

The heavy fullness that he’s stuffing you with leaves you breathless, but you somehow manage to gasp out a string of nonsensical praises each time he drives back into you, overwrought by his roughness.

This coupling isn’t kind, isn’t right, and is not healthy, for either of you. No, not with the way he’s using your shivering body, distracted with slacking that euphoric thrum that’s making his cock pulse and swell inside you.

But fuck it feels good and you can’t help but tremble with delight. These intoxicating thrusts of his ram him up against something that’s buried deep inside you, and each time he hits it another star of bright pleasure races through you. The familiar coiling of release is steadily mounting with each rapid fire rut he gives you and if he could just, ah, there’s something that’s… no, fuck, it’s, it’s not going to work. It feels good, but it’s missing one vital ingredient, one thing that he’s neglected to pay attention to, to notice.

Your clit needs to be tweaked and rolled, and right now it’s pulsing away against the table, beating a sad tattoo into the grainy wood. Oh well, you think, head fuzzy, lost in the euphoria of his powerful cants, grinding your ass into his hips as he digs into another teeth chattering thrust. He’ll likely finish soon, and you’ll probably need to get yourself off later. It’s not something new, and it’s not like he’s going to care enough to focus on that, on you. This whole thing has been about control, so there’s likely no room for your own pleasure.

“What’s wrong,” he gasps out, his fingers lifting from your hips to curl beside your turned head.

“What? N-nothing–I–” you pant, eyes rolling back as he hits that spongy patch of nerves again.

“Tch. Hold on,” he interrupts, his voice rasping and breathy. He pulls himself out of you with a grunt and yanks you upward, hauling you onto the tabletop and flipping you on your back, bending your stiffened legs and bracing your knees against his lean forearms.

He holds you apart, spreading you open with his powerful hands. You can see him properly now, and the sight makes your breath catch against the back of your throat. Fuck, he looks good.

His long white hair is draped across his bare shoulders and his eyes are blazing pits of hunger, devouring the sight of you with those red irises. His jaw is clenched, and he glares down at you from his imperious height, his nostrils flaring as he drags in a quick intake of air. To your shock, he gives you a little time to acclimate to this new position, opting to languidly step forward, letting his slippery cock head press and tease at the dip of your opening. But right when you think he’ll move again, he stops, his eyes roving over the lines of your face.

His sudden stillness makes you peer quizzically up at him and you scoot closer, your feet lifting from the table. The movement snaps him out of his stupor and he grabs your ankles, roughly pinning you back down.

“Keep still,” he snarls through clenched teeth, that scar of his lifting.

You nod mutely and he rewards your unquestioning obedience with another powerful thrust, sinking his swollen cock back into your waiting cunt. He lets out a sharp groan and grabs at your hips, jerking you forward, already drifting back into that all-consuming rhythm he’d started earlier. His ruts are a little slower from this angle but, in no time at all, that familiar ache pools in your core, stoking and building at an alarming rate. The driving force of his hips soon has you blinking back spots and distant stars, and this time he adds the all important pressure of his thumb, circling the finger pad over your clit and dragging a broken moan from your quivering lips.

“So that’s what you needed. You close?” he grits out, his lips set in a curled scowl. He’s lost some of that early control, his hips stuttering as they connect with yours, his power lessening, cooling, as he looks for your release.

“I–I think–oh fuck, do that again. Yes! Just–ah!”

He angles your hips upward and gives your clit another quick oscillation, pressing down until you’re gasping. “There you go. That felt good. You’re getting tighter,” he laughs, looming over you, shoving your heaving chest downward as he jerks your hips into him, forcing your body to do most of the motion, making your shoulder blades scrape across the uneven wood. “Cum for me. Fucking cum on my cock, (Y/N). Cum and I’ll give you your A, I’ll give you whatever the fuck you want.”

Your spine arches as you break around him, your cunt greedily pulling him deeper, slipping him past the barrier of your tender cervix and earning you a weak shout of praise from Shigaraki. Seconds later, he’s pulsing and twitching against your walls, the warm pooling of his cum filling you up and spilling down your spread thighs.

His head drops to your shoulder and the rough skin of his forehead sticks to your sweat dampened flesh. For a long moment you’re both still, each of you struggling to catch your breath, luxuriating in the tingling sensation of release.

“I fucking hate you, you know,” you gasp out, your arms circling his back, fingertips etching vague patterns over his neck and shoulders.

“Ha,” he snorts, “I’ll have to remember that. Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll pay you back for that little remark next time.”

“Oh? Next time?” you chuckle, moaning as he twists out of your hold and pulls his softening length out of you.

“I’ll fail you on every assignment if you try to keep away,” he threatens, his eyes falling to the gaping mess that he’s left behind. You cross your legs, denying him the satisfaction of leering at your dripping pussy.

“Fine. But next time, fuck me on something softer than a damn table.”

tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love, @libiraki <--- i’m coming for you. you’re gonna have to read for this, lady. so, uh, i’m officially noneconing you here.

notes: you made it! this thing is a monster & i’m so sorry i can never stfu

#shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #reader insert #shigaraki x y/n #shigaraki x you #shigaraki x reader #bnha smut #9 to 5 collab #bnha degeneracy server #collaboration #tw: unhealthy relationship #tw: teacher/student #tw: dubcon #tw: bribery

2K notes · View notes

atlafan · 4 years ago

Text

Open Door Policy - One Shot

a/n: so, I love a good professor!harry fic, but I don’t always love when he gets involved with a student, so y/n is his TA. He’s 26, and she’s 23, so not too weird, right? Anyways, this took me a few days to write, and I didn’t mean for it to be this long, but here we are. This is a slow burn fam, like...buckle up. Reblogs are always very kind and helpful! Not proofread.

Warnings: angst, fluff, and smut!

Words: 21.5K

It was Y/N’s second year in grad school. She knew how to handle her workload on top of still making time for fun. She was still able to go out to the bar, and party with her friends. However, she was serious about her research. She had a “big girl” apartment that she shared with two friends, each having their own room. Grad school was expensive, and even though she had a decent job working at the local café, it wasn’t enough to cover her bills. Luckily, she got a grant to be TA this semester, which was perfect because she was interested in teaching at a collegiate level at some point. Her excitement dwindled slightly when she got the email about what professor she’d be paired up with.

“Who is it?” Nessa asks, plopping down on the couch with her.

“Dr. Styles.” Y/N groans.

“Tell me, why is that a problem?” Charlotte asks, coming over with a bowl of popcorn so they could start their movie night. “He’s so fucking hot.”

“Exactly! How am I supposed to concentrate?! I had him my senior year for an elective and it was awful. I was flustered all the time. He’s such a nice guy too, I missed a class where we had a test and he let me make it up, no questions asked.”

“Great, so he’s a good professor to learn from.” Nessa says. “Oh, maybe you’ll get a closer look at some of his tattoos.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about, Y/N, he’s only a few years older than us, you know?” Charlotte shrugs. “Maybe you’ll fall in love.” She teases her.

“Mhm, yeah, because I’m sure a guy who has his PhD in Computer Science is just dying to go out with a girl who’s only a TA so she can afford her last year of school.”

“What class are you even helping him with? You’re not specializing in CS.” Nessa says.

“Apparently it’s for the section of Web Expressions he teaches, that was the class I took with him. It was really easy, you just learn the basics of HTML and then build your own website.”

“Did you just say that was easy?” Nessa scoffs.

“My older sister ended up helping me a lot because she had a myspace back in the day, I guess you needed HTML for that.” Y/N shrugs. “It’ll be a good experience for me.”

“Okay, but you’re just specializing in Curriculum and Instruction, so-“

“Yeah, that involves Instructional Design, so I know about this stuff. I’m just not looking forward to doing it with him.” She sighs.

“Could be worse.” Charlotte smirks. “You could have gotten with some old fart who would let you flounder.”

“Very true.” She closes her laptop and sets it on the coffee table. “Alright, let’s get this HSM party started.”

A week later Y/N received an email from Dr. Styles to meet with her so they could discuss the class and make sure they were on the same page about the syllabus. She was a nervous wreck. Y/N used to avoid his office like the plague, too afraid to be alone with him. It’s not that Dr. Styles was a creep or ever put off any inappropriate vibes, he just had this sort of intimidating stare to him. Even when he’d laugh, seeing him soften was intimidating. The sound of his deep, raspy voice was almost a little too soothing, and she was obsessed with his sense of style. His nails were always painted different colors, and he had the cutest pair of round glasses that would sit on the tip of his nose.

Even though it was August, and still very hot out, Y/N wanted to make a good, professional impression. So, she decides on a pair of white slacks that have a tie in the front, a white tank top tucked in, and a navy blue three-quarter sleeve blazer. It was too humid to leave her hair down, so she puts it up in a cute, messy bun. She puts on a little makeup, grabs her laptop bag, and out the door she goes. She puts her sunglasses on immediately, almost getting blinded by the blazing sun.

She had never been in an academic building at this point in the summer. There were a few faculty puttering around, getting their offices situated for the semester. She smiles at a few of them as she takes her sunglasses off. She heads up to the third story where Dr. Styles’ office was. There was no a/c in this building, but luckily the room they’d be teaching in would have it due to all the computers.

His door was open, and she nearly walked right by him. She back peddles and already feels weak kneed. He had his glasses on, pushed closer to his face than usual, a small fan on his desk blowing the hair that wasn’t in the little sprout on the top of his head back, and he was wearing a white t-shirt.

“Um, Dr. Styles?” She nervously taps on the outside of the doorframe. He looks up from his computer and smiles.

“Miss Y/L/N?”

“Yes.” She smiles back at him.

“Come on in, have a seat.”

It was the accent, that fucking British accent that she remembered was the most distracting part about him. He had this drawl to his voice that was irresistible.

“Do you want me to, um…” She points to the door.

“No, no, too bloody hot to have that thing closed. The little window I get barely opens so I only have this fan to really keep me cool.” He frowns slightly at her appearance. “Why’d you get so dressed up? You must be sweltering.”

“I’m okay!” She blushes, and takes the seat in front of his desk. “I just…you know, wanted to look nice.” His eyebrows raise slightly. “I mean, like, not nice, but professional.”

“Well, don’t feel like you need to be dressed up like this all the time. I want you to be comfortable. You don’t see me all dressed up.” He smirks.

“You’re a tenure-track faculty, you can do whatever you want.”

“Not true.” He leans forward and rests his chin on his palm. “I can’t call a student an absolute moron when they ask me a stupid question.”

“I thought there were no stupid questions.” She smiles.

“God, there’s tons.” He scoffs and sits up straighter. “But we have to encourage students to speak up when they’re confused, so.” He shrugs. “Anyways, let’s look at the course, yeah?”

“Okay.” She takes her laptop out and sets it on his desk, scooting closer.

“I added you to the moodle page, so you should have full access to everything. You’ll be grading a bit, so I wanted to make sure you knew how to get in there.”

Once Y/N logs in, and clicks into the course, she smirks.

“What?”

“Looks at the exact same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I actually, uh, took this class with you a couple of years ago.” She furrows her brows at the page. “You know, you should really update this, it’s lazy to use the same design year after year.” She sort of says it without thinking and then feels embarrassed when she looks back up to meet his intimidating gaze.

“Interesting, usually I’m good with names…yours doesn’t ring a bell at all.” He looks at his own computer and crosses his arms. “And it’s not that I’m lazy, I don’t have a lot of control over the physical design. The assignments are much different, those I keep fresh.” He turns to look at her again. “I also teach eighteen credits worth of courses, I don’t exactly have time to sit and revamp all of them.”

“Well, maybe I could do that. I’ve taken a lot of Instructional Design courses.” She says brightly. “Studies show that students do better when their course pages are more inviting.”

“Alright, since you’re the expert, I’ll let you take the lead on that. Can we get back to the material itself? I have to make sure you know what you’re doing.” He squints at her. “You really took this class?”

“Yes.”

“And I was your professor?”

“Yes, Dr. Styles.”

He plucks his fingers over his lips.

“I feel bad for not remembering you.”

“It’s okay, I sort of kept to myself. You late me retake a test that I missed once, though.”

“Oh!” He snaps his fingers. “You missed class because you had a bad stomach bug.”

“Yeah.” She blushes.

“Poor thing, those are the worst when you don’t have mum around to help take care of you.”

“It’s alright, I recovered.”

“Clearly.” He smiles.

They spend the next hour or so going over the course and the materials. He tells her what he’ll need from her specifically. He’ll do most of the teaching, and she’ll bebop around helping students with questions. Oh, and grading, she’ll be helping with a lot of grading. He notices her wipe some sweat from her brow, and he frowns.

“Do you want a water? I have some in the fridge.”

“That would be great, thank you.”

He wheels over to his mini fridge and tosses her a water bottle. As she takes a sip, she notices him still looking at her.

“You can take that off, you know?”

“What?”

“Your blazer.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’m, uh, only wearing a tank top underneath and I wouldn’t feel comfortable being so…exposed.”

“Oh!” He blushes. “I’m sorry, I hope my comment didn’t-“

“It’s fine.”

“I just hope you know I wasn’t trying to-“

“I didn’t.” She clears her throat. “So, I have full reigns to redesign some things?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Just as long as I can still navigate it.”

“Isn’t your PhD in Computer Science? You should be fine.” She closes her laptop and sticks it in her bag.

“Right…” He pulls his calendar up on his computer. “What’s your class schedule like?”

“With this one, I only have one other class that’s in person, the rest are online.”

“Perfect, then it should be easy to build in some office hours for you. We’ll have to share mine, I hope that’s alright. Not every TA gets their own office, but there’s plenty of room in here for two. This office actually used to have to people in it, I’m having a small desk brought in for you.”

“Oh, um, thanks. I also work a lot at the café down town, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

“You work at Bento’s?”

“Yeah.”

“I go there all the time, how have I not seen you?”

“I work in the back as a baker.”

“Oh cool, I actually worked in a bakery when I was younger.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes. “You used to mention it all the time in class.”

“I did?”

“Yes.” She chuckles. “You made it sound like so much fun it’s actually what made me apply to Bento’s in the first place.”

“Ah, well, glad I could help.”

They decide on the office hours that will work best, and then he dismisses her. Just as she’s about to leave, he says her name.

“Yeah?”

“When it’s just us feel free to call me Harry. You and I don’t need to be so formal, alright?”

“Okay.” She smiles. “See you next week.”

The second she gets outside the building, she rips her blazer off. She gets back to her apartment as quickly as possible, changes into a bathing suit, and gets in the pool outside. Charlotte and Nessa were already out there, sitting on chairs in the shade. Y/N gets out and towels off, sitting down with them.

“Needed to cool off after your time with Dr. Styles, huh?” Charlotte winks at her.

“Shut up.” Y/N nudges her friend. “It was so fucking hot in his office. I know it’ll cool down eventually, and I was also way overdressed. He only had a t-shirt and jeans on.”

“Did he remember you?” Nessa asks.

“Not at first, but of course he remembered the reason I missed class was because I had a stomach bug, how embarrassing.”

“Why is that embarrassing?” Charlotte asks.

“I don’t want him to think about me being all…icky.”

“Do you seriously still have a crush on him?” Nessa asks.

“It’s not a crush, he’s just insanely attractive. He looked so cute being all casual today.” She whines. “It doesn’t matter, he’s twenty-six and probably has a girlfriend or something, how could he not?”

“I don’t know, I wouldn’t wanna date a guy smarter than me. He probably man-splains all the time.” Charlotte says. “I bet he’s good for a quick fuck, and that’s about it.”

“I guess Y/N will find out.” Nessa giggles.

“You two are the worst.” She groans.

“Hey, Y/N!”

Y/N was in the back at Bento’s getting some bread proofed and ready for the morning crew. One of her coworkers was calling for her.

“Yeah?”

“There’s some guy out front asking for you?”

“What?” She wipes her hands on her apron and walks out front. She freezes when she sees Harry. She had a hairnet on, her face was laced with sweat, and she smelled like bread, which you would think would smell good, but it doesn’t. It had been a couple of days since their meeting.

“Sorry, had to see it for myself.” He smirks.

“See what, Dr. Styles?” She walks around the counter to speak with him.

“Harry.” He corrects her. “See you in action, of course.” He takes a sip from his drink. “I see you’ve already made some changes to the course.”

“Yeah, uh, it was pretty easy.”

“Well, it looks fantastic. I was going to email you, but I was stopping in here and I thought I’d see if you were working so I could just tell you in person.”

“Oh.” She blushes. “Thank you, that means a lot.”

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it. Don’t wanna get you in trouble.” He waves as he leaves, and she stands there stunned.

“Who the fuck was that?” Her coworker asks.

“Um, I’m his TA this semester. He wanted to tell me I did a good job on something.”

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“He’s gonna fuck you.”

“Stop!” She swats her hand at them. “Go take drink orders, I’m going back to the proofer.”

Harry was just being nice, and maybe he was looking for a good laugh. She shakes the thought from her head, he didn’t want to fuck her. He was way more professional than that.

On her first day as a TA, she decided on a pair of jean capris, and a light blouse. She left her hair down since it wasn’t humid. She felt more like herself, which was good. She goes to her now shared office with Harry first, just to drop her things off.

“Good morning.” She says shyly as she comes in. The small desk he had brought in for her was there, and there was a small plant waiting for her on it.

“Morning, Y/N, are you excited?”

“More so nervous, but yeah. What’s this?” She points to the plant.

“Got you a little something for your desk. It’s really easy to take care of, should only need water once a week.”

“Oh, thank you.” She tucks some hair behind her ear and sits down.

“Since it’s syllabus week, today will be really easy. We’ll go over a few things and then I’ll probably let them go early.”

“Alright.”

“I’ll give you a couple of minutes to introduce yourself too.”

“Okay.”

“Do you have a water bottle with you or anything?”

“Yeah, right here.” She takes it out of her bag.

“Great, a little trick I learned when I first started teaching is that sometimes you can end up answering a question you ask the students because you’re so nervous when no one answers right away. So, if you take a moment to take a sip of your water it gives them more time to speak up.”

“Thanks, that’s a really good tip.”

“You’ll do great.” He looks down at his watch. “Come on, we should head to the classroom, make sure all the computers are working.”

Y/N nods and follows him out. Her eyes drift down to how his butt looks in his khakis. He had a simple green t-shirt tucked into them. He was effortlessly handsome. The cool of the a/c in the computer lab helps snap her out of ogling. After they check the rows of computers, only one wasn’t working, so Y/N takes a DO NOT USE sign onto it.

“Brilliant.” He says to her.

Students start trickling in, and choosing their seats. The class was mostly boys, and only a couple of girls. Unfortunately, that was typical for courses like this, even if it was just a gen ed that literally anyone could take.

“Morning everyone, I’m Dr. Styles, and I’d prefer you call me that. I worked a long time to be called that, so please don’t call me by my first name. You can call me professor, though, if you feel comfortable.” He smiles at the class. “We’re very lucky this semester, I have a TA that will be able to help you with assignments.” He gestures to Y/N.”

“Hi, yeah, my name’s Y/N, you can feel free to just call me that. Um, I’m in my second year of grad school. I’m studying curriculum and instructional design. I’m excited to be with you all this semester.”

Y/N takes a seat to the side of the room while Harry pulls up the course and the syllabus on the projector.

“Now, who here is a CS major?” Most of the class raises their hand. “Right, try branching out for your gen eds, your eyes will bleed if you don’t.” He jokes. “What about those of you who aren’t CS, just shout it out.”

“Communication.”

“Undecided.”

“IT.”

“Psychology.”

“Wonderful, glad we’ll have a little bit of variety. Y/N redesigned this class, so I’m hoping you’ll appreciate what she’s done to make things easier for you.”

Y/N takes attendance, and then sits back down so Harry can go over the syllabus and explain some of the more intricate assignments. He also explains his door is always open for anyone that needs extra help. He wanted to make a good impression since he knew some of the students would end up in some of his higher level courses.

“Please take some time to go over some of the basic codes and short cuts we’ll be using quite a bit. For our next class we’re going to work on a site together, alright?” There’s a hum of agreement throughout the class. “Great, and just so you know, Y/N will be doing the majority of the grading, so it’s not my good side you’ll want to be on, it’s hers.” He grins. “Alright, you’re all dismissed, enjoy the nice weather.”

Everyone files out, and Y/N takes a deep breath. She walks with Harry down to his office and she plops down in her seat.

“Seems like it’ll be a good group.” He opens one of his drawers. “Here, forgot to give you a key. You can come here whenever you want, feel free to do your homework if there’s nothing to be graded.”

“Thanks.” She takes it from him and puts it on her key ring. “It’ll be nice to have a quiet space, actually. One of my roommates is getting her master’s in theater education, and my other roommate is getting her master’s in music education, so it gets kind loud from time to time.”

“Then definitely come here anytime you like.” He smiles and sits in his chair.

“When does your next class start?”

“I’ve got about an hour or so before I need to go back to the computer lab for my computing fundamentals class. I teach two sections of that back to back. Then that’s it for today.”

“Does it get annoying to teach the same class back to back?”

“Not really.” He shrugs. “I’m used to it by now anyways.”

“Dr. Styles?” A female student taps on the outside of the door. “How was your su…oh, you’re in here with someone.” She frowns.

“I sure am, Melanie.” Harry seems to look a little nervous. “I’ll be rather busy today, but we can catch up soon, alright?”

“Oh, okay.” She glares at Y/N before leaving. Harry sighs heavily once she’s gone.

“That’s one of my frequent flyers.” He rolls his eyes. “Her and a couple other girls try to come by and chat…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I’m actually kind of glad you’ll be around, I’ve seen her fly out of here so fast.”

“Does she…have a crush on you or something?”

“I’m afraid so.” Harry sighs. “It’s partly why I keep my door open when I meet with students. I used to keep it closed to have some privacy, cause sometimes there’s personal things students want to talk about, but she came in last year…I don’t know, I just keep my door open now.”

“That sucks.” She turns to her laptop to start getting some work done. “Such is the life of the hot, young professor, unfortunately.” Once again, Y/N said something without really thinking about it. She really needs to work on a filter. When she turns around to look at him to apologize, he was looking at her, face flushed. “I’m sorry, I just meant-“

“I have some emails to catch up on, so I’m gonna put by earbuds in and just focus on that.”

Y/N nods and turns back to her computer. She sighs heavily. The last thing she wanted to do was make the poor guy feel more tense than he already did. It must be painfully awkward to have students throwing themselves at you all the time, and what’s worse is that he feels so uncomfortable that he feels like he can’t even close his door. Y/N wanted to know what exactly Melanie did. It couldn’t have been so bad because she was still coming by to see him. Maybe Harry just picked up on a vibe, and got ahead of the problem before it got worse.

Forty or so minutes later, Harry tells Y/N he’s off to class, but she can feel free to stay if she wanted. She smiles and continues working on a paper she already had assigned for one of her courses. It was really nice to just have a space to work.

“Dr…oh…is this not Dr. Styles’ office anymore.” The girl standing in the doorway frowns.

“Oh! No, it is. He’s teaching right now. I’m his TA, Y/N, so we’re sharing. Can I help you with anything?”

“No, um, I was just coming to say hi, but I’ll catch him later.”

“What’s your name? I can tell him you stopped by, then he can email you or something.”

“It’s Bridget, and he doesn’t need to email me. I was just coming to say hi and chat about summer.” She sighs. “Sorry to bother you.”

Before Y/N can say it wasn’t a bother, the girl is gone. Harry really seemed to have a fan club so far. Y/N had professors she loved, but it was the first day of classes, she never went around trying to catch up with them. She decides to close the door a bit, maybe if people came by they would just assume he wasn’t there.

Y/N’s eyes start to feel droopy. It hits her that she’s been up since four this morning, having pulled an early shift at Bento’s. She decides to cross her arms on her desk, and rest her head on them. Her music was playing softly in the background, and her eyes eventually flutter closed.

Harry comes back from his second section of Computer Fundamentals and is confused when he sees his door only open a crack. He opens it the rest of the way and stops short when he sees Y/N resting peacefully. He wonders how long she’s been asleep for. He didn’t want her to be too groggy. He also knew some students from his previous classes may stop by for some clarification, so as he much he didn’t want to, he had to wake her up.

“Y/N?” He says softly, tapping her on the shoulder.

“Mm?” She grunts.

“Gotta wake up, love.”

Her eyes snap open. She sits up and watches him as he sits at his desk, pulling some papers out of his bag. She knew it was a pet name often used where he was from, but holy mother of God did it sound good hearing him call her that.

“Sorry, I…oh wow, I slept for way too long.”

“You didn’t seem so tired this morning, are you feeling alright?”

“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I worked an early shift at the bakery this morning, so it must just be catching up with me.” She stretches her arms out. “I think I’m gonna head out now. Oh, some student named Bridget came by earlier, but you were in class.”

“Alright.” He sighs. “Thanks, see you Wednesday.”

“See you Wednesday.” She smiles, gathers her things, and heads out.

At the end of the first week of classes, Harry was exhausted. It was always like this by the time that first Friday hit. The faculty meeting was the most draining part of it. He didn’t subject Y/N to it since she wasn’t helping with a major course. He had whined about it in front of her, though, so when he got back to his office he found a cupcake from Bento’s waiting for him.

It took a couple of weeks, but Y/N was able to relax around Harry. He noticed this right away. She was way less nervous, and he felt happy knowing he wasn’t making her feel intimidated. He was also happy for the help. She was able to field a lot of questions for the students, and her grading things was already saving him a ton of time.

The semester was off to a great start. Y/N would often bring Harry extra pastries from Bento’s, and he would praise her for how good they tasted.

“If those whole Instructional Design thing doesn’t work out, you should just open up your own bakery.” Is what he would often say after stuffing his face. It would make her giggle and blush. She enjoyed pleasing him.

They were having a peaceful Tuesday afternoon, holding office hours. Mostly working on their own, but occasionally chatting. Well, it was peaceful, until someone walked through the door.

“Harry.” An angry woman holding a small shih tzu and a large bag says. “I can’t take care of him Max anymore. I’m moving and my new place can’t have pets.”

“Kelly, let’s go out into the hall, yeah?”

She looks over at Y/N, who was stunned. Harry was standing up and walking around his desk to lead the woman out, but she won’t budge.

“Make whoever this is leave, you have an office for a reason.”

“I don’t have an office for personal matters, come on.” He takes the dog, Max, from her and cuddles him to his chest. Harry gets a lick to his chin. “Aw, you miss Daddy, Maxy?”

The woman rolls her eyes, and lets Harry lead her into the hallway. Y/N hears some muffled discussion, the woman raising her voice more than him.

“You could have looked for a place that allowed pets. This is so typical of you. You fought me on keeping him, and the second it got difficult you wanna just dump him with me.”

“I’m never home, Harry! It’s not fair to him.”

“And you think I’m home more?”

“More than me.” She scoffs. “You don’t have a choice, I leave at the end of the week.”

“You don’t even look like you’re going to miss him.”

“I thought I wanted him, but every time I looked at him I just thought of you, and now I can’t stand him. I’m moving to have a fresh start. Whatever happens to him is up to you now.” She drops the large bag full of Max’s things at his feet and walks away.

Harry sighs and kisses the top of Max’s head. He leans down to grab the bag and walks back into his office.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

“It’s okay.” She extends her hands out. “Can I hold him? He’s so cute.” She pouts.

“Um, sure.” Harry hands Max over to Y/N.

“Oh my goodness.” She gets a lick on her cheek. “How old is he?”

“A little over a year.” Harry mumbles as he goes through the bag. “I have no idea how I’m going to make this work. I can’t bring him with me every day, it’s not allowed. Once in a while is fine, but it’s not like he’s a therapy dog.”

“I can help! My apartment is pet friendly for small dogs. I could just meet you here and you can drop him off to me.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. You have so much going on between this, your own school work, and Bento’s.”

“I really wouldn’t mind, I know you end up staying here late a lot of the time, I could take him for walks and stuff, tire him out so you can just have a snuggle with him when you get home.” She holds him up to her face. Lucky dog, she thinks to herself.

“You’re my TA, Y/N, not my dog sitter.” He sighs. “I’m sure I could find another student that needs some extra cash-“

“Wouldn’t need to pay me.” She smiles. “Please, he’s so cute, I really wanna help. It won’t stress me out, I promise.”

“We’ll see, it would only be on my busy days.” He takes Max back from her, and pulls his dog bed from the bag. “Go on, get comfy.” He sets him down and pats the top of his head. He takes out his water bowl and pours some into it for him.

“Feel free to not answer, but who was she?”

“My ex…” Harry sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He sits down and watches Max lap up at his water bowl. “She insisted on a small dog because they’re easier to take care of.” He rolls his eyes. “But I missed him a lot, so I’m not complaining. We were together a couple of years, lived together for a bit, thought it would be smart to get a dog like a lot of people do when they’re getting more serious. But we started fighting a lot, we both got busier, neither of us wanted to compromise, and so it goes. She took him with her. We both got new places and have barely spoken.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, we weren’t right for each other, and he sort of made us realize that.” Max yips at Harry. “That’s right, buddy.” Harry chuckles. “We called it quits roughly six months ago, it’s all good now. I thought I’d miss her, but I missed him more.”

“I get that, I dated this guy for a bit in undergrad, but I definitely didn’t see it lasting.” She rolls her eyes.

“Guys at that age are really immature, anyways. You’ve got plenty of time to meet someone.” He turns back to his computer and gets back into his emails. He looks over his calendar and groans. “Alright, I’ll definitely need your help with him.” He turns back to her. “I give a lecture on Thursday evenings, so no one would be home with him literally day.”

“No problem at all, I can bring him home with me and I can just drop him off to you.” She smiles. “My roommates love dogs too, they’ll be excited.”

“I’ll need your phone number, just to get updates and stuff, it’ll be easier than email.”

“Sure!” She hands him her phone immediately. “Feels silly to not have exchanged numbers sooner.”

“Was sort of trying to keep a level of professionalism between us, but I suppose you’re gonna be helping me with my pup you’ll be more than just a colleague.” He puts his number in and texts himself. “You’re sure this won’t be too much for you?”

“Not at all.”

“At least let me pay you.”

“No way.”

“Y/N.” He sighs. “I’m gonna pay you, just deal with it, alright?” There was that intimidating side of him again. Y/N just swallows and nods. “Good.”

Nessa and Charlotte loved when Y/N would bring Max home with her. They teased her a bit at first because it was like her and Harry now owned this dog together, but she explained she was just helping him out.

“At least now you know for sure he’s single, and that he’s not afraid of commitment.” Nessa winks.

“Oh stop.” Y/N nudges her.

“He has your number now, does he ever text you about anything other than Max?”

“Not really, although he’ll send a funny gif as a response sometimes. He’s got a good sense of humor. You should see him in class.” Y/N’s phone buzzes and sees a text from Harry. “Speak of the Devil.”

Harry: I’m running late tonight, I’m so sorry. Would it be too much to ask to have you just get him settled at my place? There’s a spare key in the plant by the door.

Y/N’s eyes grow wide.

“Oh my god, he wants me to bring Max to his house tonight.”

“It’s happening!” Charlotte squeals. “Have you eaten much pineapple lately?”

“Would you shut up?! He doesn’t want to fuck me. He’s way too professional.”

Y/N: of course!

Harry: you’re a lifesaver. I’ve got some frozen pizza, feel free to make yourself at home until I get in. I won’t have you waiting too long.

“Oh wow, I’m gonna be there until he gets in…” She looks at her friends. “Maybe I’ll go shave my legs, you know, just in case.”

Y/N finds the key quickly, and walks into Harry’s home. He didn’t live too far from campus. He had a nice town home. Max scamps inside and immediately goes over to his toys in the living room. Y/N takes her shoes off and leaves them in the mudroom. Harry kept his home clean, and it made Y/N smile. There were some papers on his kitchen table that had grade marks on them. She wondered if he had a home office or not.

She goes into his freezer to find the pizza, and preheats the over. Once the pizza is baking, she plops onto the couch, pulling Max into her lap and turning the TV on. He has Netflix, so she click into that. She pouts when she sees he watches a lot of Rom Coms, it was too cute. She puts on The Office and has a slice of pizza. She didn’t need to work until tomorrow afternoon, so she didn’t mind that it was getting to be a little later on a Thursday, and it wasn’t like she went to raging parties anymore either.

Eventually, she dozed off. She couldn’t help it. Harry had a really comfortable couch, and plush blanket to curl up in, and Max was just as cozy to sleep with. Harry had texted Y/N, but she didn’t answer because she was asleep. The lecture he had ran late, and then he had to meet with some students to help them. Not to mention it was raining heavily, and he needed to drive a little slower than usual. So he didn’t pull into his driveway until 10PM. He sighs, feeling terrible that Y/N was still there.

He quietly enters his home, but it didn’t matter because Max hears him, wakes up, and starts barking. This startles Y/N awake.

“Shh, Max, it’s just Daddy.” He scoops him up and walks into the living room. Y/N was rubbing her eyes, trying to wake up. “I’m so sorry, I-“

“It’s okay.” She yawns. “I wrapped up the pizza and put it in the fridge for you.”

“Oh, um, thank you. Think I’m about to pass out though.”

“Don’t be silly.” She gets up and stretches. “You need to eat something.”

She brushes by him to go into his kitchen and take the pizza out. She puts a paper-towel over it and pops it in the microwave.

“I really am sorry you’re here so late.”

“It’s okay.” She leans against the counter. “What’s the lecture for, anyways?”

“It’s actually a graduate level CS systems course. I couldn’t turn the money down when they offered it to me. I figured since it’s only once a week it would be terrible, and it’s not, it’s just exhausting.”

The microwave beeps, and Y/N take the plate out for him, removing the paper towel.

“See, now it’s not all dried out.” She smiles.

“Neat trick, I’ll have to remember that.” The rain taps violently on the window in the kitchen.

“Yikes, I didn’t even know it was supposed to rain tonight. It wasn’t like this when I drove over.” She bites her bottom lip and looks outside.

Harry finishes his pizza and puts the plate in the sink. He sets Max down and he runs upstairs to his dog bed in Harry’s room.

“Listen, uh, if you want I can set up the pull out for you. Or I could sleep on it and you could take my bed…if you don’t feel safe driving home.”

“Oh, I couldn’t take your bed.” She turns to him. “But I may take your couch. I was sleeping on it fine as is, no need to set it up.”

“Well, let me at least get you a proper pillow and something to change into, yeah?”

“Okay.”

“Right, um, well you know where the bathroom down here is, feel free to use whatever to wash up. I’ll run up to grab what you need, be down in a sec.”

Harry changes into his own pj’s, and finds some spare pants and a t-shirt for Y/N. He’s even able to find a spare toothbrush. He hustles back down and see’s Y/N bending over to charge her phone using the plug behind the tide table next to the couch. Harry clears his throat to get her attention.

“Here, you can wear this, and he’s a toothbrush.”

“Thanks for letting crash here, I get nervous driving at night when it’s like that outside.”

“It’s the least I could do, you gave up your Thursday night to…” He looks at the TV screen and his cheeks grow hot. Y/N looks over at the TV as well and wonders why The Office might embarrass him.

“Is it okay that I used your Netflix?”

“Yeah, I…god, it’s just, you’ve seen what I watch.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I didn’t snoop or anything, promise.” She smiles and takes the clothes and toothbrush from him.

He opens up the coffee table to take out a pillow and another blanket.

“Well, I’ll be right upstairs if you need anything…um, goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Harry.”

She wanted to ask if he wanted to watch a little TV with her, but he looked so tired. She lays on the couch after getting changed. His bed clothes swam on her, and she loved it. They smelled just like him and it made her smile. She texts in the group chat so the girls know what’s up. They tell her just to go crawl into his bed, and she rolls her eyes. She falls back asleep after another couple of episodes of The Office.

The next morning, her eyes flutter open when the light from the sliding door in the living room hit her. She hears Harry shuffling around upstairs.

“Gotta be quiet, Max. Y/N is sleeping.” She hears him whisper and it makes her smile. She decides to pretend to be asleep as to not rile the dog up.

She hears the door open and close, and that’s when she knows Harry’s gone to take Max for a walk. She gets up and folds the blankets, and puts the pillow on top. She figures he’ll want to wash it. She goes into the bathroom to do her business, but doesn’t change just yet, she didn’t want to leave the comfort of his clothes. She does, however, put her bra on. She didn’t want to bounce around and make him uncomfortable.

Harry comes back in with a beanie on, cover the beautiful curls Y/N adored so much. He was wearing grey joggers, and a black t-shirt. Max runs right over to Y/N.

“Morning.” Harry says.

“Morning.” She pats Max’s head.

“Sleep alright?”

“Mhm, thank you.”

“I’m gonna make some breakfast, you hungry?”

“Sure, I could eat.” She smiles.

He smiles back and opens up the fridge. Y/N grabs the dog food and gets Max’s bowl filled. She sees Harry starting up the coffee pot, and then going back to the fridge for eggs.

“Eggs and toast alright?”

“Sounds great.”

Harry gets a pan heated up and cracks four eggs into it.

“You working at Bento’s today?”

“Yeah, not until this afternoon though, no worries.”

“Oh good, I would have felt bad if I was keeping you.”

“You’re not.” She sits up on the counter and watches him cook the eggs. He moves to the toaster and puts for pieces of bread in. “This is a nice place.”

“Thanks, sort of found it in a scramble, but it gets the job done. Would have liked more than one bedroom, but oh well.” Harry flips all of the eggs over so they’ll be sunny side down. “Want cheese?”

“Yes, please.” She hops off the counter to grab a couple of mugs for the coffee.

“I have to apologize, I don’t have any cream for that.”

“Sugar?”

He slides the sugar bowl down to her and she smiles. Once everything is done they sit down at the kitchen table.

“Mm, this is delicious, thank you.”

“S’just a fried egg.” He chuckles. “But I’m glad you like it.”

“Do you have to go to campus today?”

“Not technically, but I will just to get some work done. I’ll bring Max with me. He likes the little dog bed I’ve put under my desk.”

“He’s really such a love bug. Snuggled with me last night and everything. My roommates love him too.”

“You’ve been such a big help in so many ways. Don’t know what I’ll do without you next semester.”

“I’m applying for more TA positions, maybe they’ll stick me with you again.”

“Wouldn’t you want more experience with a different class?”

“It doesn’t really matter.” She shrugs. “It would be cool to work with you over winter break to redesign your other courses.”

“Man, if I didn’t have to do that myself…hm, maybe I could put a good word in. That is, if you don’t mind being stuck with me again.”

“Stuck with you? Hello, this is going way better than I thought. I was sort of nervous to be your TA at first.”

“You were?” He frowns.

“You’re a little intimidating.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

“I know, it’s just the way you come off sometimes. You’re hilarious when you want to be.”

“Thanks.” He smirks and continues to eat. He looks at her and furrows his brows. “Feel free to keep those.”

“What?”

“The clothes I let you borrow, feel free to just keep ‘em if you want. I don’t much wear those pants anymore, and I have a dozen t-shirts.”

“Oh, um, thank you. Might take you up on that, I’m pretty cozy.”

She helps clean up the dishes and then gathers her things. He walks her out to her car.

“Thanks again for watching him.”

“Of course, I’ll see you Monday morning.”

“See you, have a good weekend, love.”

Her heart skips a beat as he turns and walks back inside. She takes a deep breath as she gets into her car. It was cloudy on the drive home, but at least it wasn’t raining. The second she gets through the door Nessa and Charlotte grill her for details, and they were highly disappointed that the only thing they shared was breakfast.

“It was really domestic, though, it was nice.” Y/N explains. “He was so cute while he made me breakfast. He’s so kind. He even let me keep his clothes, and he wants me to be his TA again next semester. He literally said he wouldn’t know what to do without me.”

“Yeah, because you’ve volunteered to do everything for him except suck his dick.” Charlotte scoffs. “You said he’s been broken up for a little over six months right? Do you think he’s gotten his dick wet since then?”

“Charlotte!” Y/N giggles. “He’s a grown man, he can do what he wants. I bet he has, he easily could have had a rebound, although, he seems really respectful, so who knows if he’s even into hooking up.”

“Right, like when you told us he always keeps his office door open.”

“I feel bad, I’m there when some of those girls come to chat with him, and you can tell they just make him uncomfortable.” She shakes her head. “I think he and I are, like, friends now. I like what we have going, I’m not going to rock the boat. It could really complicate things.”

“So, would you say now that you’ve gotten to know him better your crush is less…apparent?” Nessa asks.

“God no! We mesh really well, we think a lot of the same things are funny…” She wines slightly. “It’s truly unfair.” She sighs. “Right person, wrong time.”

It was hard to stay awake during your shift at the bakery, but you made it through. You were thankful you only needed to be there until about dinner time. You had to be back in Saturday morning for open, but that didn’t stop you and your friends from going out to the bar for a couple of drinks.

It gave the three of you time to catch up and complain about coursework. Nessa was directing a production at the university, and she still had students who weren’t off-book, and Charlotte had to deal with pretentious music bros who really liked to man-splain the music industry to her. Y/N felt lucky that the majority of her classes were online.

“Okay, I have to ask, are there any students in class you think have crushes on each other?” Nessa asks her, sipping from her straw.

“Oh, for sure. There are these two boys, they don’t sit next to each other, but you can tell they’re friends. One of them always looks behind to the other so they can make a face. It’s too cute.”

They were at a more adult bar tonight. It’s not that they didn’t like the college bars they were so used to going to, but if they went there then that meant getting shitfaced and staying on the dancefloor until close. It also made things awkward when running into students. So the three of them felt safe here, they could really relax.

“Oh my fucking god.” Charlotte says. “Dr. Styles just walked in, and fuck, he’s here with a couple of really hot guys.”

“What?!” Y/N was buzzed, and she didn’t want Harry to see her like this. She wanted his image of her to remain sweet and professional. She peers over her shoulder to look at him, and her eyes widen.

He wasn’t wearing his glasses, he had a floral patterned shirt on that had the first few buttons undone, and a pair of black jeans to match. They weren’t skinny jeans or anything, but they sure as fuck were working for him. Both of his friends were a little shorter, but both equally as handsome. The three walk right by the bar and grab a booth.

“This is bad.” Y/N groans. “He looks so fucking good.”

“Who knew he was so tatted up?!” Nessa says. “I thought it was just his arms, but did you see his collar bones? We love a man who has going attire.”

The bar was starting to get more crowded, and louder as it got later. Music was blaring from the speakers, but all Y/N could think about was Harry. She wondered if he would venture to her area of the bar to order his drinks. One of his friends went up first, on Nessa’s left.

“Hey, Niall, what can I get for you?” The bartender asks him.

“Bradly, so good to see yeh, I’ll take a pint of Guinness, Lou’s gonna have a pale ale, and Harry’ll have a Corona with lime.”

“You got it.”

Niall drums his fingers on the bar. Nessa was sweating. She had a boyfriend, so she would never do anything, but fuck, that Irish accent tore right through her. Niall looks over at the three girls who had all fallen silent after he approached. He makes eye contact with Y/N, and they share a smile.

“Opening a tab tonight?”

“Yeah, one of those nights for sure. Poor Harry’s had a run in with his ex, basically dropped their dog in his lap and left. It’s been a couple of weeks since it happened, but it’s been eatin’ the lad up.”

Bradly nods and takes Niall’s credit card to keep on the back of the bar. He hands him the three beers, and Niall thanks him. The girls try not to watch as he sits down.

“Holy shit, I thought I was going to crap my pants.” Nessa breathes. “I love Andy, don’t get me wrong, but holy fuck.” She shakes her head. “I may need to have him pick me up from here tonight.” She giggles.

“Now I almost wish there was dancing here. Wouldn’t mind showing that guy how well I can pop my ass.” Charlotte laughs.

“He smiled at me, did you see it? Of course Harry surrounds himself with other beautiful people.” She pouts.

Niall slides Harry and Louis their beers and they all clink their glasses.

“I’m so glad we could all get out to do this. Sorry we didn’t rescue you the second Kelly showed up.” Louis says.

“It’s alright, I appreciate you guys coming tonight.”

“Is Max okay for a bit on his own?” Niall asks.

“Yeah, I put the gates up for him so he can’t mess much up. I wouldn’t have texted my TA to see if she could watch him again, but…”

“But you’ll most likely be fucking someone tonight.” Niall grins. “Surprised you didn’t just fuck her, she stayed at your place and everything.”

“Actually, you asshole,” Harry chuckles and takes a swig of his beer. “I was going to say that I would have felt bad taking up another one of her evenings. I don’t know if I’m in the mood to take anyone home tonight.”

“Too bad, girls love little dogs like Max.” Louis shrugs.

“There’s three really hot girls sitting by the bar.” Niall loves over at the three girls. “One for each of us if we play our cards right.”

Harry’s back was turned away from the bar, so he couldn’t see who Niall was talking about.

“They could be college students.” Louis says.

“Not at this place. The undergrads don’t come here.” Harry says. “Mostly grad students or other faculty that live close by, locals too.”

“We could order their next round of drinks, and then invite them to come sit with us. Booth has plenty of room.” Niall suggest.

Harry and Louis turn around slightly to get a look at the girls Niall was talking about. Harry nearly chokes on his Corona, and turns back around.

“Jesus, are you alright?” Louis asks, patting his back.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. We can’t get those girls drinks.”

“Why not?”

“The one on the right is my TA, Y/N, and her two roommates. I know one of them has a boyfriend…uh…the one on the very left. The middle one is single, but even still, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Mate, you’re TA is that good looking, and you didn’t even try to fuck her when she stayed at your place?” Niall asks.

“No, I didn’t try to fuck her. I’m doing this thing where I don’t fuck people I have a position of power over.” He rolls his eyes. “That’s a no go.”

“But if she wasn’t your TA, and just a regular grad student…?” Louis raises an eyebrow at Harry. He runs a hand through his hair as thinks it over.

“I don’t know, I haven’t really thought about it. I mean, she’s obviously cute, but…I could never do something like that.”

“It’s not like she’s going to be your TA next semester, you could-“ Harry cuts Niall off.

“Actually, she might be. I have a meeting with the curriculum committee to discuss what I’ll need help with for next semester, and we both want to work with each other again. Crossing that line would complicate things, not to mention it’s highly unprofessional.”

“It’s not like she’s a student sitting in one of your classes, then I’d agree with you. You’re colleagues, technically. Nothing in the rule book saying you can’t fuck a colleague.” Niall says.

“He’s got a point, Har.” Louis says.

“Even if I agreed with the both of you, I’d still be taking advantage. I think she has a little crush on me, she’s made a couple flirty comments here and there…”

“Not to mention she jumped at the chance to help watch your dog.” Louis says.

“It’s not happening.”

“Well, you may not want to fuck a pretty girl tonight, but I do, and if the middle one is single, perhaps I’ll still order them all drinks, and just talk with her. Or, if you’re saying Y/N’s a no go for you, maybe I’ll chat her up. We smiled at each other, maybe she thinks I’m cute.” Niall grins.

“Don’t you dare.” He glares at him, finishing his beer. “I don’t care if you talk to, fuck what’s her name…Charlotte! I don’t care if you talk to Charlotte, but don’t try anything with Y/N.” He looks at Louis. “You either.”

“Not that I would, but basically you’re saying if you can’t fuck her no one else can?” Louis asks.

“I just wouldn’t feel comfortable with it.”

“Alright.” Niall shrugs. “We ready for the next round, then?” They both nod at him, and Niall brings the empties up to the bar. The girls fall silent when he approaches again. “Hi there, is there a reason you all keep doing that?”

The girls all turn to look at him. They were sweating.

“Doing what?” Charlotte asks nervously.

“Well, and maybe it’s just a coincidence, but you keep getting quiet when I come over.”

“It’s just…um…” Nessa starts. “You’re here with someone our friend knows.” She points to Y/N. “In a professional setting, and we’re just surprised to see him out, that’s all.”

“Oh, am I? Who is it?”

“Dr. Styles.” Y/N speaks up. Niall smiles as his eyes raise.

“Dr. Styles, how formal.” He looks over at Bradly who gives him the new drinks. “Bradly, do me a favor, put these ladies’ next round on my tab, will you?”

“You don’t have to do that.” Y/N says.

“Whether you know my friend or not, I’d be a real jerk to not buy three beautiful girls a drink, wouldn’t I?” He winks at Charlotte as he walks away with his new drinks.

“He winked at me, oh my god.” She squeals. “Y/N, you wouldn’t care if I tried to fuck one of Harry’s friends, right? It’s been a minute for me.” She pouts.

“No, why would I care?” She laughs. Bradly gives the girls their new drinks. “That was really nice of him.” She twists her straw and looks over at the booth. She can see Niall and the other guy laughing, while Harry just shakes his head.

“What the fuck did you say to them?” Harry asks as he takes a sip of beer.

“Would you relax? They simply mentioned that they knew you, and I bought their next round, that was it.”

“Great, so she knows I’m here.” He groans. “Move.” He says to Louis.

“Why?”

“Because now I have to go talk to her.”

“Oh, you do?” Louis smirks.

“Yes, do you know how fucking rude it would be not even say hello?”

“I don’t see her coming over here.” Niall says.

“She’s obviously nervous!” Harry takes a large gulp of his drink. “Move, Lou.”

Louis gets up so Harry can get out of the booth.

“Oh my god, Y/N, Harry’s coming over here.” Nessa says.

“Shut up, no he’s not, oh my god, he is, holy shit. I’m…inebriated.”

The girls laugh at her as Harry comes to sit on the open stool next to Y/N. He gets comfortable before he looks at her and smiles. She slowly turns herself to look at him.

“Hi.” He says.

“Hi.”

“Did my friend bother you?”

“Not at all…he was very nice.”

Harry nods and sips from his drink.

“I didn’t know you came here…” He says.

“Could say the same to you.” She looks him up and down. “Barely recognized you when you walked in. That’s a nice shirt.”

“Thanks.” He blushes and wants to kick himself for being so exposed to her.

“You haven’t met my friends yet. Charlotte, Nessa, this is Dr…uh, this is Harry.” The girls both say hello.

“Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you both. You’re Charlotte right?”

“Yeah.”

“My friend thinks you’re cute.” He nods over to Niall. Maybe Harry wouldn’t have been so bold, but he knew they were only a few years apart in age, so it wasn’t totally weird, and he had a couple drinks in him, so there’s that.

“Really?!”

“Mhm.”

“Should I go talk to him?”

“Definitely, I think he’d really like that.”

“Good enough for me.” She hops off the stool. “Ness, come talk to his other friend with me it’s not awkward.”

“Wing-man to the rescue, I’m on it.”

“You guys!” Y/N calls after them, but they’re already sitting down. She looks back at Harry and squints at him.

“What?”

“Did you do that on purpose?”

“Do what?”

“Get them to leave so we could be alone…”

“What?! No!” Harry finishes his drink, and Bradly gets him a new one right away. “Why would I want to be alone with you?” He sees the obvious offense on her face, and shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. We’re alone together all the time, aren’t we? I just meant, in this setting.” He gestures to the bar around him. “I’ve been a bit mopey since Kelly showed up, so my friends just wanted to take me out and show me a good time.” He looks over at Niall who already has his arm around Charlotte. “Although, I think they’re bound to have a better night than me.” He sighs.

“You haven’t let on a mopey exterior, you could have told me.”

“It’s really none of your business how I’m feeling, Y/N.”

“You’re being awfully cold to someone who spent the night at your house just watch your dog.”

“You spent the night because it was raining too heavily.”

“And then you made me breakfast.”

“As an extra thank you.”

“You’re annoying.” She takes a sip of her drink and faces forward. “Now I don’t even have my friends to complain about you because you’ve sent them off to your friends.” She rolls her eyes.

“M’not annoying. I’m a fucking delight, just ask Max.”

“Where is he anyways?”

“Home.” Harry shrugs. “He can last a few hours without me. I almost texted you, but I would have felt bad asking again. I know you worked today, I honestly didn’t expect to see you out.”

“It was a long week for everyone. I’m not staying much longer, I have to be at Bento’s at four in the morning.”

“It’s…” Harry looks down at his watch. “Almost midnight, Cinderella.” He smirks at her and she can’t help but laugh. It was a stupid and cheesy joke, but she liked it. “I didn’t mean to be cold…I just didn’t want you to think I was coming over here to pull a move or something.”

“I’m going to remind you again, you sent my friends away.” She smiles and takes a sip of her drink.

“I did.” He nods. “But I’ll remind you, my friend Niall thinks Charlotte is cute. He thought you were cute too, by the way.”

“He did?!” She looks over at them and then back to Harry. “But you sent her off with him?”

“Yup.” He takes a swig of his beer.

“Why?!”

“Could be a little awkward to have my best friend canoodle with my TA.”

“Right, because it would be so easy to get into my bed.” She scoffs.

“I didn’t say that.”

“You implied it. And I’m not one to kiss and tell, so unless he wanted to dish, you wouldn’t have even heard anything from me about it.”

“Doesn’t matter, I wouldn’t have liked it. I don’t know Charlotte so I don’t really care what they do.”

“You don’t get to decide who I can and can’t sleep with just because you’re too chicken to make a move.” Before he can say anything she’s hopping off her stool and heading out of the bar.

She’s just about to order an uber when he grabs her wrist. It was chilly outside, and she could clearly see both of their breaths.

“What did you just say to me?”

“You heard me.” She yanks her wrist free. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going home to sleep for three hours so I can get up to bake some fucking bread.” She orders her uber, and Nessa comes rushing out.

“Char’s staying inside with, um, Niall? I saw you leave so I thought I’d come…with…you…” She sees Harry who was practically fuming. “Um, I can wait inside, or-“

“It’s fine, the uber will be here in a minute.” She smiles at her friend and then glares at Harry. “At least one of us is going to have a good time tonight.” She seethes.

“I had fun.” Nessa says, and then realizes what Y/N meant. “Oh.”

“Why are you still here? Go inside and find some random to fuck.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Y/N.”

“Sorry, I’m off the clock. I can speak to you however the fuck I want.” She steps closer to him. “I don’t know where you get off being so sweet and kind one moment, and then turning into a major prick the second you feel threatened, but I don’t need this.”

The uber pulls up, and without another word Y/N and Nessa get inside, leaving Harry outside in the cold.

Y/N woke up at 3:30AM and groaned, cursing at herself for going out. She only had to work until 9AM and then should could sleep the day away if she wanted. She was still so mad at Harry she could scream. He hadn’t even tried to text her to apologize.

She sighs and makes her way to the kitchen once she’s dressed. She stops short when she sees a half-naked Niall standing in her kitchen, filling two glasses of water.

“Um…hi.” She says to him as she grabs her daily vitamins out of the cabinet.

“Hey.” He smiles. He looks her up and down. “Are you going to work?”

“I am.” She pops the gummy vitamins into her mouth.

“Could you do me a favor?” He steps a little closer to her. “Take it easy on Harry, alright?” Y/N scoffs at him. “I know, he was an asshole last night, but he just want to do anything that could put his job in danger, that’s all.”

“How would I do that? I’m not his student, I’m his colleague.”

“He just feels weird about it, and he’s still figuring out his feelings. I think he likes you, to be quite honest. You’ve…perked him up, well not tonight, but anytime he mentions you he smiles.”

“He…talks about me?”

“Oh sure, all the time actually.” He takes a sip of water. “I better go bring this to her. Just…consider taking it easy on him, he knows he fucked up.”

Y/N nods as Niall makes his way back to Charlotte’s room. She drags herself out to her car and heads to Bento’s. Once she’s inside, she puts some music on and fires up the ovens. She loved baking, it helped clear her head for a little while. She would prep the bacon, get fresh muffins and cookies going, and she would even make croissants. By the time the rest of the morning crew shows up, she’s just about halfway done with everything. She trays up everything to be rolled out for the people working out front. By the time 9AM rolled around she was exhausted, but had mostly forgotten how aggravated she was. She snags a coffee and a muffin on her way out, and stops short when she sees Harry sitting outside with Max.

“Oh, thank god.” He says, standing up. Max sniffs at her feet and she bends down to pet the top of his head. “They said you got off at nine, I hope it’s not weird that I’m here.”

“How long have you been waiting out here?”

“Well, I came by at 6:30 when they opened, but you were really busy, so I just came back twenty minutes ago. Can we talk?”

“Not right now. I’m covered in flour and sweat, and I’d like to take a shower and then take a nap. I got two hours of sleep last night. It was my own doing, but still.”

“When then?”

“I’ll text you.” She shrugs. “Niall spent the night, I bumped into him this morning. He said you fucked up?”

“I did.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Do what you need to do, and then, uh, come bay later, yeah? We can have a late lunch or something, and I can explain myself. Would you like that?”

“Depends, what’s on the menu?”

“S’cold out, do you like grilled cheese and tomato soup?”

“Love it.” She smiles. “I’ll let you know when I wake up.”

“Alright, thanks.”

Y/N takes a nice long shower when she gets home, her roommates still peacefully sleeping. She wondered if Niall was still there or if he slipped out a couple hours after her. She didn’t care that much, she was too tired to care. Once her hair is dry, she slips a t-shirt on and crawls into bed.

“Y/N! I’ve let you sleep long enough, please wake up!” Charlotte was absolutely giddy, and dying to fill Y/N in. It was around 2PM, she definitely caught up on sleep.

“Gimme five minutes!” Y/N yells back. She was groggy and didn’t want to be cranky.

Y/N comes out to the couch and lays down. Nessa was out with Andy, but she had heard about everything earlier. Charlotte brings Y/N a cup of tea and smiles at her.

“Thank you.” She takes a careful sip. “Alright, go ahead.”

“Best sex I’ve ever fucking had!” She squeals. “He had me all over the bed, it was wild. I’m surprised we didn’t wake you.”

“I passed out the second I got home.” She chuckles. “Best you ever had, huh? What exactly did he do?”

“What didn’t he do?! Fingers, tongue, and dick, it was incredible. I rode him, then he got on top, and then he did me from behind, bent me over the bed, I got on top again. His stamina was incredible. I made him some breakfast this morning and then he left.”

“Did he give you his number?”

“He did.” She beams. “He said he wasn’t looking for anything serious at the moment, but I was free to text him anytime I wanted him like that again.” She bites her bottom lip and sinks further into the couch. “I totally don’t mind at all. It would be nice to start up a new little fling. It won’t be weird for you, will it?”

“Not at all, it’s not like you’re…oh my god.” She pinches the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

“What?”

“I totally get where he was coming from now.” She groans.

“What do you mean?”

“He said he told me that, uh, his other friend thought I was cute, and I told him I was mad because he sent the two of you away, and that he couldn’t tell me who I could and couldn’t fuck, but I would have been so mad if you slept with Harry.”

“I wouldn’t have, though. I know how much you like…” She gasps. “Do you think he likes you too?!”

“I don’t know, maybe!” Y/N takes her phone out to text Harry that she’s up and that she’ll be over within the hour. “I’m going to his place for a late lunch, he wants to apologize, but I owe him one just the same. I flipped out for no reason.”

“Well, at least you’re realizing it. Very adult of you.”

“Oh, shut up.” She nudges her and gets up to change.

Y/N gets to Harry’s around 3PM. She paired a green cardigan and a black tank top with a pair of jeans. She gets out of the car and rings his bell. She giggles when she hears Max barking from behind the door.

“Shh, it’s just Y/N.” Harry coos to Max as he opens his door. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

“Um, come in.” He moves aside and lets her in. “Here, think he misses you.” Y/N takes Max from Harry and snuggles him close.

“It’s only been a couple days.” She pouts at the dog.

“Come, sit, the food’s ready.”

Y/N sets Max down and sits down at the table. Harry already had the grilled cheese and soup out on the table.

“This looks good, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Harry…I know you wanted to apologize, but I realized today that you weren’t totally in the wrong.”

“Yes I was.” He sighs and blows on his soup before slurping some from his spoon. “Maybe it wasn’t what I said, but it was how I said it. I overstepped. You’re a grown woman, I had no right to tell my friend he couldn’t hit it on you.”

“Well, it all worked out because Charlotte seems to have a new fuck buddy on her hands.” She chuckles and takes a bite of her sandwich. “Look, I appreciate you saying all that, but when I was talking to her earlier, I realized I would have done the same thing. I would have told my friends not to flirt with you or try to pick you up, and I would have been pissed if one of them slept with you.”

“You would have?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You know why.” She grumbles. “I…I mean…”

“We’re stuck between a rock and a hard place here, Y/N.” He sighs and sits back in his chair.

“We are?”

“Yes. I did a lot of thinking last night, did some talking with my friends. I had to really think about why I got so upset. The thing is, you’re my TA, and you’re going to be my TA next semester as well, most likely. I have a meeting about it Monday. Selfishly, I don’t want anyone else to have you.”

“In more ways than one, obviously.” She smirks.

“Don’t be cute.” He gives her a playful smile. “I think I’d miss you too much, to be honest. I like sharing my office with you. Your help with Max has been great, you’re, like, part of my life now.”

“Is there some rule that says that we can’t…like…go out?”

“I don’t know…I think it would look unprofessional on my part. I know you’re not one of my students, so it’s not as bad as that, but I still have a position of power over you, and if someone found out something was going, it could look really bad. I wouldn’t want something to taint your reputation either.”

“Well, I’ve been over here twice now, and no one’s said a thing.”

“You haven’t been on campus since Thursday. Someone could easily say something to us Monday.”

“A lot of people know I help with Max.”

“Some people may know you used to be a student of mine as well. They could assume something’s been going on for years.”

“Not true, wouldn’t people know about Kelly?” Harry grimaces at the name. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“So…I feel like we’re just going around in circles here, Harry. Like, what are we doing?”

“Well, if I vouch for you to be my TA again next semester, would you? The course would be for Creativity and the Visual World, and I think you could really shine there, talk about IDS. Also, I don’t know what your plans are after you graduate, or where you’ll want to go, but I’ve caught wind that one of the instructional designers on campus is going to retire at the end of the school year.”

“Wow, so you’re like really trying to keep me around.” She smirks.

“It’s not like that.” He chuckles. “I just mean, it could be a good first gig for you. You’re very good at all that, thought you might be interested to know there’s going to be an opening. You know the campus well, it would be a smooth transition for you.”

“That would be ideal, I do want to work in higher ed when I’m done.”

“I could help you with your cover letter, I’m really good at writing those. I’ve helped plenty of students.”

“I’ll definitely look into it.” She finishes what she can of the food, and sits back as well.

“I really am sorry about last night, I felt awful.”

“It’s okay, I really get it.” She sighs. “So…I still don’t know what we’re doing. Are we just choosing not to date anyone else and also not each other? Why should I wait until I graduate to be with someone?”

“M’not asking you to do that. I don’t really know what I’m asking you to do. I just don’t want to be a cliché. The young professor getting with someone that works for him. I’m attracted to you, I can admit that, but I don’t want to get fired, nor do I want your name getting dragged through the mud.”

“So, essentially, while I’m your TA we can’t do anything.”

“Correct.”

“And you’d rather suffer and have me be your TA again next semester just to have me around you, even though it would mean we still couldn’t do anything.”

“Yes.”

“Alright, after the holidays I’ll be staying at my apartment for winter break. We pay for a full year, and I like having the time alone. I also still work at Bento’s.” She stands up and puts her things in the sink.

“What are you saying exactly?”

“I’m saying, over winter break we’re in limbo. I won’t be your TA, and I’ll be all alone in my three bedroom apartment. Perhaps there’ll be a night I’m feeling especially lonely and you’ll have the marvelous idea of visiting me with Max, and whatever happens will happen.”

“And then what? Act like it didn’t when the spring semester starts?”

“I guess we’d cross that bridge when we come to it. All I know is that for six weeks, you will in no way have a position of power over me. By the way, I’m twenty-three years old, it’s like you said, I’m a grown woman. You’re not taking advantage of me. I know how it would look to others, so I can respect where you’re coming from. However, I’d like to try things out before I tell someone I’m going to wait for them.”

With that, Y/N gives Max one last squeeze, and out the door she goes. She was proud of herself. Harry liked her, and he wanted to be with her. It was a dream come true. She also didn’t mind sort of waiting for him, it would just make things all the more hot when they’d finally be able to come together.

The rest of the semester went by…okay. There was a lot of tension, a lot of it. Harry was just thankful it was getting colder which meant that Y/N was bundling up more. She did, however, look insanely cute in her many layers and scarves. They were busy grading, not having much time for chat chit. She started going over his place more, though. They would have little grading parties where they could just spread out and get things done. His place was also another quiet haven for her to escape to.

Charlotte hooked with Niall almost every weekend, it was pretty cute. They were having fun, and Y/N was happy for her friend. Even though sometimes Y/N wished Harry would just fuck her on his kitchen table on top of all the graded papers and tests, and maybe sometimes he fantasized about the same thing, but it had to stay professional. She didn’t want him regretting anything. Sometimes he would come into Bento’s when she was working, she even snuck him in early one morning to show him how she made the croissants he liked so much. They were essentially dating, but without all the physical stuff.

At least Y/N could catch some relief later at night in her bed. She didn’t think of Harry at first. Her routine mostly consisted of headphones, pornhub, and a few orgasms. But there was one particular night her and Harry were sitting in front of his fireplace, and he just looked so sexy, and she wanted him to take her on his living room floor, she didn’t even care if her tailbone would be bruised the next day. She still hadn’t even seen his fucking bedroom, it was the one part of the house she wasn’t allowed in. So she start fantasizing about his bed, and then one thing led to another and she ended up moaning out his name in a shallow breath. It had caught her by surprise, and she was almost embarrassed about it.

Harry would have been lying if he said he wasn’t doing the same thing. It mostly happened early in the morning when he’d take his shower. It just sort of happened. He woke up one morning, rolled over and wished she was there next to him. He had seen her fall asleep so many times, and he thought she was incredibly cute. He liked having Max in the bed, but he wanted Y/N. So when he got into the shower he just couldn’t stop thinking about her. He didn’t feel embarrassed, he didn’t feel guilty, he mostly felt annoyed because he just wanted the real thing.

It was confirmed that Y/N would be his TA again in the spring, and they were both exited. He liked having her in his office, and he thought they worked together really well. It was worth it, it was all going to be worth it.

Harry went home to London for the holidays, and Y/N went home to her parents’ house. It was a tough goodbye. They hugged, and maybe they kissed each other on the cheek, but neither wanted to let go. Y/N loved seeing her family, but ten days was plenty. She liked having her apartment to herself. Nessa and Charlotte wouldn’t be back for a few weeks. That meant Y/N could watch whatever she wanted on TV, she didn’t have to worry about being quiet on the early mornings she had to work, and she could take a long shower.

A big snow storm was coming, which was starting to make Y/N nervous. Stores were closing in preparation, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to weather it alone.

Y/N: are you back from London? Can’t remember when you said you’d be home…

Harry: hey! I was just going to message you, I got back yesterday, was just sleeping off the jetlag. What’s up?

Y/N: this impending storm is freaking me out…

Harry: do you wanna get snowed in at my place? Just stalked up at the grocery store…

Y/N: are you sure? I don’t wanna be a burden :(

Harry: you wouldn’t be! You know I want to see you, so does Max :)

Y/N: okay! I’ll pack a bag and head over, see you soon!

Harry had been cute while he was away, sending Y/N a few selfies of him and Max. She had been to his house so many times, this wouldn’t be weird at all to spend a couple of snowy days together. She gets all her things packed, and makes her way to Harry’s. It was just starting to flurry when she parked in his driveway. He comes outside to help her with her things.

“And this time, you’ll let me set up the pullout for you. No need to sleep on a couch for two days.”

“Okay.”

She was hoping he’d give in and let her sleep in his bed with him. Actually, she was hoping he’d pick her up, swing her around, and kiss her. He sets her things down and waits for her to take her coat off, then he hugs hers.

“Had a good holiday?” He asks as he lets her go.

“Yeah, it was good. You?”

“It was great, love getting to see my family.” Max comes trotting in and greets Y/N.

“There’s my little man.” She scoops him up and gives him kisses.

“I was just going to make some tea, would you like some?”

“Please.” She plops down with Max on the couch.

“Do you have to work at Bento’s during all this? I can drive you if you want.”

“No, they closed in preparation of the storm.”

“Oh, good!”

Y/N turns the TV on, and scrolls through Netflix for something simple to watch. Harry comes over with two mugs of tea and he sits down next to her.

“Find anything good? Feel like it’s all Christmas movies right now.”

“Nothing yet…” She squints at the TV. “How about…oh! Have you watched Love, Victor yet? It’s been on my list for ages.”

“Is it based off of Love, Simon?”

“Yeah! This kid Victor is new in town, and ends up going to the same school Simon did.”

“Sure, we could watch that.”

“Shit, it’s on Hulu, you have that right?”

“Mhm, gimme the remote, I’ll switch it over.” She hands it to him and sips on her tea while he queues it up.

“Mm, this is tasty, what is it?”

“It’s black tea with honey, love.” He looks at her wants to laugh. “I don’t usually add anything, but I thought you’d like the honey.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

The show starts just as the sun was setting outside. Y/N pulls the blanket Harry keeps on the back of the couch over her legs, and Max moves to Harry’s lap.

“Let me know if I’m being a blanket hog.”

“S’alright, he keeps me pretty warm.”

“Don’t be annoying.” She huffs and spreads the blanket out equally over them. “See, nice and cozy.”

“I’m not being annoying, I’m being…respectful.”

“Golly gee, thanks, mister.” She pouts at him and he rolls his eyes.

“Now who’s being annoying?”

A couple of episodes in, and Harry’s stomach starts rumbling.

“Are you hungry? I can pop a pizza in the oven, or make some pasta?”

“Pizza would be perfect, thank you.”

“Pause it, I just need a minute to get it in the oven.”

Y/N nods and scrolls through her phone while she waits for him to come back. This was nice. It was like they were hanging out as friends, which was okay, but she was hoping he’d make a move for fuck’s sake.

“Alright, should be about fifteen minutes.” He smiles and gets back under the blanket. Y/N presses and play and they get back into it.

After the pizza, they nearly almost binge the entire show. Harry was starting to doze off, so they decide to call it a night. He looks outside in the kitchen window.

“I am not looking forward to digging out our cars. Times like this I wish I had a garage.” He sighs.

“You say that like you’ll be doing it alone. I’ve got all my snow gear, I can help.”

“Right, like I’d let you break your back out there.” He scoffs, and puts his hand on her shoulder. “Let me make up the pullout for you.”

Y/N watches as Harry moves the coffee table, and hoists the pullout into place. The sheets were already on it, so he just lays the blankets and pillows out.

“Well, I’ll be upstairs with Max if you need anything. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, thanks again for letting me stay. I think I would have been scared all alone.”

“No worries, I’m glad you’re here. I, uh, missed you over the holidays.” He clears his throat and heads upstairs.

Y/N does her nightly routine and puts on a tank top and pajama pants for bed. She gets onto the pullout and tries to listen to some music to fall asleep, but the wind was whipping so harshly outside, it was making her uneasy. She hated storms more than anything. Would Harry mind if she crawled into bed with him? She could even sleep on the floor. She just didn’t want to be down here alone. She sighs and slowly gets out of the bed. She makes her way upstairs.

Harry’s bedroom was the entire upstairs, it was sort of like a loft. He had a king sized bed, a decent looking bedroom set, and an en suite. Y/N thought it was really nice, well, what she could make out of it since it was so dark.

“Harry?” She whispers. His head was in his pillow, sleeping on his tummy.

“Mm?” He grunts, clearly out of it.

“I’m a little scared downstairs, would it be alright if I slept on the floor up here?”

“Get in.” He mumbles.

“Really, are you sure? Because I-“

He flips some of the covers back, eyes still closed. Y/N takes a deep breath and gets into the bed. Max was half asleep, but he moves away from Harry to make room for her, plopping down near his feet. Y/N climbs in and faces away from him. This was such a large bed for one guy, and it made her wonder who was the last person to share it with him. She wanted to keep a respectful distance from him, but before she could start counting sheep, his arm was wrapped around her waist, pulling her close to him. Her breath hitched, but she could hear his steady breathing, he was definitely asleep. He must just sleep better when he’s holding onto something, she thinks.

Harry’s eyes flutter open around 5AM. He was used to getting up that early to take Max out, but for some reason he felt like he got some of the most restful sleep he’s gotten in a long time. He feels warm and cozy, and even though he knows he needs to get up and brave the cold so his dog could relieve himself, he found himself nuzzling in to whatever he was holding onto.

That’s when it hits him that he wasn’t dreaming last night, and Y/N genuinely came up into his room because she was feeling uneasy being all alone downstairs. She was still fully clothed, but he wasn’t he was only in his boxers. His leg was between hers, and she was pressed up against him. He wondered if she slept well like this. Just because he slept better holding onto something didn’t mean that she would.

He makes subtle movements, not wanting to wake her. He nearly winced leaving the warmth of the bed, but he got through it. Max pops his head up and Harry puts his finger up to his lips to signal that he needed to be quiet. Harry snatches his sweatpants and a pair of socks, and grabs Max to take him downstairs. He throws his coat and boots on, gets the leash on Max, and out the door he goes. He shoves his beanie down over his ears as he feels the wind whip around. There were snow drifts everywhere and it was still coming down. He uses the flashlight on his phone so Max could see what he was doing.

“Come on, buddy, I know it’s cold, but Daddy doesn’t wanna be out here long.” He wanted to get back to Y/N.

Once Max does his business, Harry gets him so food and fresh water. He strips himself of his jacket and socks, but leaves his sweatpants on. He was shirtless, but he was too groggy from the morning to care. Once Max is all set, Harry carries him upstairs so his collar doesn’t jingle around. He plops him on the bed, and he goes right over to Y/N to curl up with her. Harry uses the bathroom quick, brushing his teeth and all that, and then slowly slides back into bed. Y/N hadn’t moved, still laying on her side facing away from him, so he just wraps himself back around her. Well, he thought she hadn’t moved. The second she heard the door close downstairs, she sprinted down to “her” bathroom to wash up and brush her own teeth. She wasn’t sure if morning snuggles would ensue, but she wanted to be fresh if they did.

A sigh leaves Harry’s lips as he settles back in, pressing nice and close to her and keeping his arm around her waist. She gives it a few minutes, and then she adjust against him. She could tell he was wearing sweatpants now, and not just his boxers. She was subtle about it, not fully pressing her ass against him, just a simple adjustment, so he didn’t think anything of it. After another couple of moments, she presses back into him, and he involuntarily presses forward towards her. He was definitely starting to get hard. He grips her waist a little tighter as he continues to press into her.

“Mm, Harry?” She rolls onto her back to look up at him.

“Hi.” He moves his hand away from her lower stomach to move some hair away from her face. “How’d you end up here, hm?” He asks softly.

“Storms really scare me, and the wind was loud.” She starts smiling. “Feel much better now.” His hand slides down to cup her jaw. “I asked first and you told me to get in.”

“I did, didn’t I…”

“Pulled me right up close to you, it was nice.” She sighs.

“Can’t remember the last time I slept so well, to be honest.”

He lets go of her and flops onto his back, groaning. She rolls onto her side and props herself up with her elbow, resting her cheek on her palm.

“You make things so difficult for yourself. I’m not your TA right now.”

“But you will be again.”

“Because you wanted me to be.”

He looks at her and pouts.

“We’ll see each other more this way.”

“But…wouldn’t it be nice to go out on dates and touch and-“

“You’ve seen how busy I am, I rarely have time to see my friends as it is. I’d feel guilty for not being able to do those things with you.”

“You have me to yourself for the next four weeks, Harry, and the girls won’t be back until a week before school starts.”

“We’d have to stop when the semester starts back up, and wait again. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do that.”

“We could be discrete.”

“I’d have to be a little cold towards you.”

“You’re no stranger to that.” She scoffs.

“Y/N.” Harry’s hand finds her hip. “This is serious.”

“I’m about to graduate, from grad school, Harry. It’s not like I’m some eighteen year old girl sitting in one of your classes. I’m twenty-three, and you’re twenty-six, it’s really not that weird.”

“I’ll be twenty-seven next month.” He mutters.

“Great, then we can go out and celebrate when the time comes. Is there something in a handbook saying we can’t…do this?”

“It’s extremely frowned upon, I can assure you.” He groans again before speaking. “This is so frustrating, it’s not like you’re my first TA either, fuck, even I was a TA. Shit like this never happened. I’ve never been…attracted to someone I’ve worked with before.”

“You’re probably the only professor I’ve been into before.”

“See, right there, you had a thing for me when you were in my class only a couple of years ago, and-“

“And nothing happened then. You barely remembered me when I first came to your office. I was a flustered senior, that was it. Now…well, I know you now. I’m way less nervous around, I feel like I can really talk to you.”

“I feel the same way.” He sighs. “Fucking, Christ.” He yanks her down to her chest, and she yelps. His fingers scratch at her scalp and she nearly whimpers at how nice it feels to lay on his chest, having him play with her hair. “We can lay here a little longer, and then I need to go to move some of the snow.”

“I’m helping.” She puts a leg over his. “And you’re still a little…riled up, don’t you want to-“

“No.”

“But I could-“

“Y/N.” She looks up at him. “Just lay here with me.”

They both doze back off for a bit until Max starts barking. He must need to pee. Harry gets up and tells Y/N she can shower if she wants to.

“I’ll wait, I’ll get sweaty shoveling.”

“It’s my house, you don’t need to help.” He throws on a long sleeve shirt and thick socks. He looks at her crossing her arms over her chest. “Here.” He tosses her one of his sweaters. “Come on, Max.”

They all head downstairs. His sweater smelled just like him. She hoped she could keep this too just like with the pj’s he had given her a couple of months ago. He takes Max out quick, and then sets him back inside so he can get to shoveling. Y/N decides she could make him breakfast since he wouldn’t let her help outside.

She goes through his fridge and cupboards to find some different things. She wanted to make something that would take some time so it would be warm for him when he got inside.

“Muffins!” She says to herself as she rifles through his baking supplies.

She whips up a mixture of blueberry muffins and get them popped in the oven. She has the glorious idea to slice them in half and butt them up on his griddle when they’re done, just to give it a little crunch. Next, she cracks some eggs into the pan, and makes them sunny side down because she remembers him making them that way. She even finds some bacon to throw on the griddle.

When he comes inside, his nostrils are hit with everything she’s made. Everything was on plates on the kitchen table, and she was washing everything in the sink. He strips down to his boxers, having been drenched with sweat after digging out their cars. The snow was still falling, but it was good to get ahead of things before it all froze.

“Harry, I made…” She freezes when she looks at him. Seeing his full body in the light was much different than in the hazy darkness of his bedroom.

“I didn’t know I had blueberry muffins.” He says as he looks down at the plates.

“You, um, you didn’t, I made them.”

“From scratch?”

“Well, yeah.”

He picks up the muffin bottom and takes a bite. His eyes close for a second as he gets a good taste. It was buttery and a bit crisp from being on the griddle. It was perfection. He turns to her after he swallows.

“You’re…a literal angel.” He steps closer to her, and he notices her eyes drift down and back up. “I’ll go put some clothes, and then-“

She puts a hand on his chest. Her eyes plead with his. Just kiss me, she silently says to him. His hands fly up to her jaw, and he pulls her in, lips crashing together, finally. She melts into him immediately. His tongue slides along her bottom lip, and she opens up for him. She can taste the blueberry muffin on him, and it makes her suck on his tongue. He groans against her, and his hands slide down to her ass to get a good squeeze. She wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him even closer.

“Harry.” She breathes against his lips.

He gets a good grip on her and lifts her up to sit her on the counter. He quickly draws the shades for the window above the sink so anyone out shoveling wouldn’t be able to see anything. He tugs at the sweater of his he was wearing and lifts it off her. Her legs open wide for him to stand between. His lips attach to the crook of her neck, sucking, licking, biting. Her hips buck towards his as she tugs at his hair. One of his hands lifts her shirt slightly, and she thinks he’s going to feel her breasts up, but instead his fingers find the band of her pajama pants. He stops to look at her.

“Can I?”

“Yes.”

His hand dips below, and it’s almost like he’s searching for something else.

“Are you not wearing any knickers?”

“No.” She blinks at him. “I don’t usually wear underwear to bed.”

“Jesus Christ.”

She opens her legs a little wider for him, and he groans when his fingers touch around her folds, and he feels her wetness sticking to him already. His other arm wraps around behind her to hold her close to him. He plays around with her, fingers rubbing all around until his middle finger slides in. She gasps, not having expected so much so soon, but she wasn’t complaining. She clutches at his shoulders when she feels another finger slip inside. He twists them around, just getting a feel for things, and he curls them up, knowing this was what she really wanted.

“Oh! Oh my god.” Her head rolls back. He was make that come here motion right on that sweet spot of her front wall. His lips find her neck again as he continues. His thumb starting to rub on her clit. “Oh fuck, Harry, oh my god.” She didn’t realize how whiney she could sound, but he loved. She was a mess for him.

“Been thinking about this for so long.” He says into her ear.

“Me too.” She was panting now. “It feels so good.”

“Yeah? Like having my fingers buried inside you?”

Her mouth falls open. He was into dirty talk and it made her clench around him.

“Yes, oh my fucking god, yes.” She bites down on his collar bone to try to muffle any louder noises, but he was knuckle deep, fucking her with his fingers, it was no use. “Harry, I’m so close, oh fuck!”

His hand around her waist reaches up to tug at the back of her head. He wanted to watch her go through the motions. He wanted to see just how good he was making her feel. Her eyes rolls into the back of her head as she continues to beck forward. Her release was long, and so very good. She cried out, maybe a little louder than she should have, but he wasn’t telling her to keep it down. Did he want his neighbors to hear? Did he want them to know how good he could fuck someone?

He slows down his motions inside of her, helping her through the aftershocks, and then he slowly retracts his fingers. He sucks them into his mouth and then steps away from her. She was breathless. He kisses her cheeks and then helps her hop down from the counter.

“You made such a nice breakfast, let’s not let it go to waste.”

“Harry…” She watches him sit down.

“What?”

“Don’t you want to-“

“I’m all sweaty, I’d like to take a shower before going further if that’s alright with you.”

“Okay.”

She sits down with him and eats her food that she was now ravenous for.

“You really made this from scratch?”

“Yeah, I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”

They finish eating and decide to clean up later. She follows him upstairs to his shower. He helps her out of her clothes and lets her get in first. She throws her hair up into a bun so it doesn’t get soaked. He rids himself of his boxers and gets in behind her. She moves aside so he can wash up. She presses her front to his back, and her hands roam along his long torso.

“You made me feel so good, I think it’s your turn.”

She kisses on his back while she starts to stroke his hardening length. It felt so big in her hand. Harry’s head falls to his chest, and he presses a palm to the tile wall to keep himself grounded. She runs her thumb over his tip and he groans. He grabs her hand and turns around. He backs her up to the opposite wall, cradling the back of her head as he basically slams her against it. His lips are on hers in seconds. Everything felt hot and wet, and just otherworldly. Y/N couldn’t enough. In the back of her head she kept thinking that she couldn’t believe this was happening. It wasn’t often that she got what she wanted.

“Please, fuck me.” She says against his lips.

“I don’t have any condoms.” He kisses down her neck and kneads her breasts.

“I’m on the pill.”

“S’not what I’m worried about.” He pulls his head back to look at her. “Are you clean?”

“I am, actually. I was tested last time I went to the doctor. Are you?”

“I am.” He smiles. “So…you really wanna feel all of me? Just like that?”

“Yes.” She whines. “Please.”

He kisses her and bites on her bottom lip, sucking on it as he pleases. He lifts one of legs up over his hip, and uses his other hand to line himself up. She was still plenty wet, so he’s able to push inside.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He grunts, trying to push further inside her. “So tight.”

“I…Christ, I think you’re just really big.” She gasps once he’s all the way inside.

His head drops to watch himself slowly thrust in and out of her. He bites his bottom lip at the sight. He looks back up at her, watching her features.

“Are you comfortable?”

“Could you maybe just hold my leg up?”

Harry nods and hooks his arm under leg, driving in deeper. Her head rolls back against the tile. Once he knew she was okay, he didn’t let up. He was fucking her hard and fast, only slowing up so he could hear her whimper and beg for more. Her nails were clawing at his back, and it was just egging him on. He uses his other hand to rub at her clit. She was starting to breathe heavier, moan after moan leaving her lips. He could tell she was close.

“Gonna come again for me?”

“Yes, fuck, I’m almost there, Harry!”

He sucks the tender skin of her neck between his teeth, and that’s what pushes her over the edge. Her senses totally overwhelmed. He gasps when he feels how deeply her nails dig into him from going through the motions of her orgasm. He pulls out of her quickly and comes on her stomach. He’s out of breath, pressing kisses to her cheek and neck.

“No going back now.” He says as he caresses her cheek.

“Nope.” She smiles.

He pecks her lips and turns back around to stand in the water again. Her eyes grow wide and he winces once the water cascades over him.

“Harry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize I was hurting you.”

“It didn’t hurt while it was happening, is it bleeding?” He looks over his shoulder trying to see for himself.

“Um…I broke the skin, but it’s not bloody.” She blushes. “Yikes, that’s embarrassing.”

“No it’s not.” He chuckles and moves so she can rinse her stomach off in the water. She turns it off and they both step out to towel off. “I wasn’t hurting you was I?”

“No, oh my god, it felt so good. Feels like I’m still throbbing.”

He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her close. She rests her hands on his chest.

“Do you like ice skating?”

“What?” She laughs. “Yeah, I love it, why?”

“Because once this storm is over, m’taking you on a proper date.” He kisses her forehead and lets her go. “Would you like that?”

“I’d love it.”

Harry was so peculiar, Y/N thought. One second he’s saying they can’t be together and the next he wants to take her out on a date. What she didn’t know was that he had never felt quite so good while having sex. It wasn’t because she felt incredibly tight around him, it had more to do with the trust and natural connect. He felt happy, a feeling he thought would never return.

To Y/N’s surprise, Harry was a really good ice skater. The two of them were like a real couple. He would visit her at work, they’d go out to the bar with his friends, and they’d have sleep overs at each other’s places. He quite liked her apartment. Not to mention, he couldn’t keep his hands off her. If they were going for a brisk walk, his hand was in hers. If they were sitting through a move, his arm was around her shoulders, and of course they were having a lot of sex. Even when she had her period, he fucked her.

“Got my red wings years ago, promise it doesn’t gross me out.” He had told her.

And god, when he ate her out. Sometimes they wouldn’t even have full on sex. Sometimes they’d be on the couch, and he’d ask if she would ride her face, and then they would just sixty-nine. Sometimes she would just blow him because she liked the way his come tasted. Harry drank a fuck ton of pineapple juice, even before they started hooking up, he always had a small can of it in his office. He just liked the taste. They were just intimate in all sorts of ways, totally comfortable.

It was when Nessa and Charlotte returned that Harry’s bubbled had to burst. School would be starting in a week, and he needed to make sure his shit was together. He had been to the office a few times, working to make sure his courses were together. He and Y/N were professional and went over the class she would be the TA for.

“This is gonna have to be what it’s like when school starts again, don’t forget.” He would say. It killed her, but she would never do anything to put his job at risk, even if she didn’t think their situation was all that serious. She had to respect his wishes.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you slept over at my place since their home.”

“Harry, they know what’s been going on…Niall and Charlotte still talk, and they-“

“I don’t care, I’d rather you be here…and only on the weekends.”

“What?”

“Saturday nights can be our night. On the weekends, you’re not my TA.”

“What will I be then?”

“My girl.”

They had put the boyfriend/girlfriend label chat on the back burner, but that was all she needed to hear to know that she was really his, and he certainly didn’t want someone else trying to steal her away. He had gotten her a necklace, it was simple, but very much her style. A way of showing her how much she truly meant to him.

“Anytime during the week you’re feeling like I don’t want you because I can’t show my affection, this will be your reminder of how much I care.”

She thought it was incredibly sweet, and it was nice to have the reassurance. When classes started, it was definitely difficult. The one thing getting her through this first week was his birthday party on Saturday. Just a small thing with friends at the bar, but still. They wouldn’t have to hide there, or so she thought. Some other professors were invited to the party, which meant Harry couldn’t touch Y/N. He frowned immediately. He wasn’t in charge of the guest list. He pulls Y/N to the side before they walk into the main area.

“I’m so sorry, I promise when we get back to my place later I’m gonna love on you all night.”

“Harry, it’s okay. It’s your birthday, I’m the one that’ll be doing the loving. Go on, enjoy.”

He gives her a discrete peck on the cheek, and then walks into the main room to say hello to everyone. Y/N invited Charlotte and Nessa, so she had other people to talk to. Niall’s arm was hooked around Charlotte’s waist the entire night. Y/N and Nessa teased her every chance they got.

“I’ve been told to check in on you. Orders from the birthday boy.” Louis says to Y/N.

“Thanks.” She chuckles. “It’s okay. Next year things will be totally different.”

“Really see things lasting then, don’t you.” It wasn’t a question.

“I think so, yeah. If the person who he said actually retires, I’m hoping to be able to work at the university to start out.”

“That would be great. He raves about you, you know? He’s a simple guy, likes being domestic. I think he said one of his favorite things to do with you is just cook a meal together.”

“Aw, he’s so sweet.” She pouts. “I like doing that too.”

Harry was mingling with everyone that came out for his birthday. Everyone sang to him, a cake was made him too. The second he tasted it he knew Y/N had baked it. He thought at the least they could have their picture taken together, that wouldn’t look weird.

“Harry!” One of the faculty members, Constance, comes over to him, a young woman by her side. “There’s someone I want you to meet, this is my daughter, Angie.”

“Oh! Hi, I’ve heard a lot about you.” He politely shakes her hand.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” She blushes.

“I’ll leave you to it.” Constance winks and walks away.

“I’m so sorry about her. She conned me into coming here, hope I’m not crashing your birthday.”

“You’re not.” He looks back at Y/N and then to Angie. “So, this is a set up then?”

“She seems to think we have a lot in common.”

“And perhaps we might, but…I’m sort of seeing someone. It’s a…long distance thing, so she’s not here tonight, unfortunately.”

“Oh! She could have sworn you were single, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright. I’m sure you’re lovely, I just really like this woman and I don’t want to screw it up.” He smiles and she nods.

Harry finally makes his way over to Y/N and Louis.

“Do me a favor,” He says to Louis, taking out his phone. “Take a picture of us.”

“Are you sure?” Y/N asks.

“Positive.” He smiles and puts an arm around her shoulders. Louis snaps a couple of shots and hands Harry his phone back. “Sorry you won’t be able to post these…”

“Well, I could, my insta is private, but we can talk about it later.”

“Lou, could you drop Y/N off at my place when this is over, we drove together, but I don’t wanna risk anyone seeing us leave in the same car.”

“Course, mate.”

Harry nods and walks away to continue talking to other people.

“He acts like you’re his student. I don’t see anything wrong with you two doing what you’re doing.”

“I don’t either.” She sighs. “But he worked so hard to get where he is, I have to respect doing things his way. It was a long week, but I’m happy to be going back to his place later.”

Y/N’s lips were on Harry’s the second he let her through the door. He made sure to get home before her so they didn’t even leave at the same time. She had him pushed against the wall and his hands were all over her.

“Missed you so fucking much.” He says, walking her back towards the living room. “And I loved the watch you got me, you didn’t have to do that.”

“Wanted to.” She starts unbuttoning his shirt and pushes him down on the couch, straddling him in no time.

“Gonna let me lick it, angel?”

“Is that what you want?”

“You have no idea. You’re as sweet as the cake you made me.”

“How did-“

“Y/N, I know it’s only been a month, but I’d know your baked goods anywhere.” He smirks.

She giggles and stands up to unbutton her jeans. He yanks them down her legs along with her panties and she kicks them to the side. Harry lays down on the couch and Y/N hovers over his face. He liked it better this way. One, he didn’t have to get on his knees and suffer through the pain of being on the hardwood. Two, he liked the way Y/N would just ride his tongue.

Max was upstairs, thanks to the gate. So they didn’t have to worry about him coming down and jumping on them.

“Fuck, Harry.” She moans. “Your tongue feels so good.” She rocks her hips back and forth on him, the stubble from his chin feeling extra delicious. He moans against her, lapping up every drop. “You like that, birthday boy? Like having me on you like this?” She looks down at him and see his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He sucks on her clit harshly, and that pushes her over the edge. “Oh, fuck!”

Once she’s through, she climbs off him. Before she knows it, he’s throwing her over his shoulder to bring her upstairs. He gives her bum a smack and she squeals. Y/N left plenty of scratch marks on Harry that night.

Y/N was antsy for every weekend. The weeks dragged on, and the weekends went by in a flash. Then she remembered something wonderful.

“Spring break!” She says, bursting into their shared office.

“What about it?” Harry chuckles.

“Two weeks off without the students!” She leans a little closer to him. “Two weeks of me not being your TA.” She grins and then sits down in her seat.

“We’ll be grading, darling.” He says nonchalantly.

“This is a pet name free zone, remember?”

“Sorry.” He smirks. “Didn’t think ‘darling’ would get your knickers in twist.”

“Fuck off.” She rolls her eyes. “Do we seriously have to grade? Can’t we do fun things? I have time off from school, I don’t wanna do anything.”

“M’surprised you don’t want to go home or go with your friends somewhere.”

“I’ve done the whole go to Florida and get blitzed thing, I’m all set. And I may go home for a couple of days, but I don’t really like being home long. Somehow I get stuck doing chores, and I get aggravated.”

“I’ll tell you what, if we get through enough of the grading, we can do something really fun.”

“Deal.” She smiles.

Sometimes Y/N felt like this was only hard for her, but it killed Harry. He had fantasies of bending Y/N over his desk, or even just kissing her good morning. He even started letting her come over on Friday nights instead of Saturday because he just couldn’t wait any longer. He knew he was being overly careful, but he just couldn’t risk it.

Harry stayed true to his word. They got through a lot of the grading so drove them out to the coast for a walk on the pier at a large beach. It was still too chilly for real beach weather, but there were less people around this time of year, and some of the shops were open. Y/N clung to Harry’s arm and they both just enjoyed the fresh air and the scenery. He took her to a nice dinner, and then they walked for a bit to watch the sunset.

“This was the perfect day.” She sighs as they begin their drive back to his place.

“It really was.” His rests his hand on her thigh and gives it a squeeze. “I love you, Y/N.”

She whips her head to look at him. His eyes were focused on the road. Tears start to prick at her eyes. No one ever said that to her before. She had been in relationships, but she never really got to a point for such strong words, and she certainly never felt it back.

“I love you, too.”

“Aw, look at us.” He smiles. “Two people in love.”

“I wasn’t expecting you to say that…” She sniffles.

“Hey, no need to cry, darling.”

“I just…no one’s ever told me they loved me before.”

“What?!” He squeezes her leg tighter. “But there’s so much to love. You’re kind, caring, an incredible baker, witty, funny, brilliant-“

“Harry, please.” She chuckles. “When we get home we’re making love.”

“I’ve made love to you before, just didn’t say anything. Anytime we’re really soft and careful, I’m making love to you.”

“God.” Her face flushes, thinking of the many sensual times he’s touched her. “Well, I can’t wait to do it again.”

It was a Tuesday, which meant Y/N wouldn’t be in the office with Harry. She had class and then a shift at Bento’s. He wanted her to be able to nap in between. He saw that the open IDS position had been posted, and he emailed her immediately. He couldn’t wait to work on her resume and cover letter together.

“Harry?” Constance knocks on the outside of his door.

“Hey, Connie! Come on in.” He beams at her. She squints at his collar, seeing just the top of a love bite.

“Did you see that girlfriend of yours this weekend?” She asks, as she sits down.

“Sure did.” He smiles. “I saw her for a while over spring break too, told her I loved her, and she said it back. I’m on cloud nine. M’sorry things didn’t line up with your daughter, she’s a very pretty girl. My friend Lou is single, maybe-“

“Harry, Harry.” She chuckles. “No worries at all, she’s been dating around a bit. I shouldn’t have just assumed you were single, and that’s great that you two are doing so well. I think I thought you weren’t seeing anyone because with your last girlfriend…well…you had pictures of her on your desk, and you gushed about her. We don’t even know this one’s name.”

“You will soon enough.” Harry did have pictures of Y/N, they were just discrete. His lock screen was the picture of them at his birthday, and his wallpaper was just a picture of her. He could look at her whenever he wanted. “She’s, uh, finishing up grad school.”

“Oh, good for her! Anyways, I came here to chat with you about my sabbatical. Obviously it’s turned into a full year instead of just the fall semester. We’re going to have a department meeting, but I wanted to see how you’d feel about stepping in as department chair while I’m gone.”

“Are you serious?!” He perks up.

“Yes.” She chuckles.

“That would be a dream! I have so many ideas, and-“

“It would mean you wouldn’t be able to teach as many classes, and you’ll have more responsibilities over winter and summer break.”

“That’s no problem, honestly. I only go to London for a couple of weeks, I’m usually in the area for summer. I’d love to give it a go. I didn’t think I’d be next in line.”

“It’s coming from my own suggestion. I’ve been doing this a long time, and I think you’d be great at it. It would sort of be a trial, and then when I come back we could reflect on the experience.”

Harry was buzzing, absolutely buzzing. He needed to tell Y/N about his good news, so he hops in his car, and zips over to her apartment. She was vegging out in a t-shirt and panties with Nessa and Charlotte, who were both dressed in the same thing. They hear the bell on their door.

“Who the fuck is that? It’s nearly nine.” Nessa says.

“No idea.” Y/N says, getting up to check it out. She sees Harry through the peephole. Her eyebrows raise, but she opens the door. “Dr. Styles, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Y/N, I’m sorry for…” He looks her up and down. “This is how you open the door?!”

“I saw it was you.” She shrugs and steps aside to let him in.

“Hi, Harry.” Charlotte and Nessa say at the same time.

“Hi girls.” He smiles and looks at Y/N. “I got great news today and I just had to see you, can we got to your room?”

“Of course.” Once they’re both in there, they sit on her bed. “So what’s up? I got your email about the job, I’m really excited.”

“Good news for both of us today. Connie, my department chair, came by to see me today, and she wants me to be department chair while she’s on sabbatical next year while she’s gone. It would be like a trial run. Me! Department chair! I have so many ideas, this is the opportunity I’ve been hoping for.”

“Oh, Harry.” She throws her arms around him. “That’s incredible, I’m so happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He holds her in his arms for a moment and then lets her go so he can stand up. “Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Harry…” She whines.

“Don’t start, I just wanted to see your face when I told you.”

“You could have FaceTimed me.”

“Oh.” He shakes his head. “It’s been a long day.” He chuckles.

“You can stay.”

“No, I can’t.” He caresses one of her cheeks. “I want to, but I can’t. Soon, babe, so soon.”

“Um…” She stands up and looks down. “If I get this job…I mean…the lease for this place is up June first, and…well…the girls are going to be working in schools, and won’t need to live here anymore, and…I mean, I could find new roommate and sign a new lease...”

“Or, you could come move in with me.” He takes her hands in his and kisses her knuckles.

“Really?”

“Yeah, I want you to. I want you around all the time. Being apart from you during the week really fucks with how clingy I naturally am.” He smirks.

“I like it, though. We spend all weekend in your big, comfy bed.”

“Look forward to it every week.” He sighs happily. “Just gotta get through you walking across that stage, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright.” He kisses her cheek. “I love you, sweet dreams.”

“I love you too.”

Harry helped Y/N apply for the job, and after two nerve-wracking rounds of interviews, and two weeks of pure stress that even Harry’s cock couldn’t squash, she got the call that she got the job. Harry took Y/N out to celebrate, they both nearly cried when she got the call. She told her parents and they were ecstatic.

“In a few years, if you feel like it, you could get your PhD for free through the university.” He says to her as they’re laying in bed.

“Hm, three degrees from the same place.” She taps her chin. “Doesn’t seem like a great idea.”

“If you can do it for free, you should. It was the smartest thing I ever did. Well that, and giving into you.”

“Giving into me?!” She laughs. “You make it sound like I seduced you.”

“I fell for you so hard. You’re just so wonderful.” He pouts. “Are your parents excited to meet me in a couple of weeks? I’m excited to meet them.”

“They’re definitely curious to see who the guy I’m going to be moving in with is.”

“Are you going to miss the girls?”

“So much! They’ve been great to live with. Nessa’s moving in with Andy. She found a college in the city he works in to teach at. She’s so good at putting productions together, I’m excited for her. Charlotte may be in the area, though. Something tells me the school she’ll be teaching at is close by to Niall.”

“I’ve never seen him so smitten. He takes the more serious part of a relationship slow, but once he’s in he’s in.” He pulls her closer to him. “Everything’s falling into place. I’ve been working with Connie to get prepared for the fall, and I couldn’t be more excited.”

“I’m really proud of you.”

“I’m proud of you too, babe.”

The day they had both been waiting for was finally here. The graduate ceremony was in the evening, separate from the undergraduate ceremony. Y/N wouldn’t be able to see Harry until after the ceremony. She was busy with her parents and younger siblings. Harry may have clapped and cheered extra loud when she walked across the stage. Most people around him thought it was just because she had been his TA for an entire year. Literally no one suspected more was going on between them. After today it wouldn’t matter anyways.

There was a champagne reception after the ceremony. Y/N easily found her family.

“We’re so proud of you honey. Another degree, a new job, and you’re moving in with a guy!” Her mom says.

“I’m still not thrilled about the last part. We don’t even know him.” Her dad says.

“But I do, so it’s a good thing I’m the one living with him, not you.”

Harry makes his way through the crowd over to her and her family. He takes a deep breath, and when she spots him she squeals. She runs over and jumps into his arms. They kiss as he swings her around.

“You did it!”

“I did it!” They both jump up and down for a moment. “Come on.” She holds his hand to bring him over to everyone. “Harry, these are my parents, and my two younger siblings. Ellie is going to be a senior in college this fall, and Ryan is going to be a sophomore. He’s actually transferring here in the fall.”

“That’s great! Hi, it’s so nice to meet all of you.” He shakes everyone’s hands.

“Damn, a PhD.” Ellie whispers to her sister and winks. “Nice job.” The girls giggle together.

They all decide to go out to dinner together to get to know each other better. Harry and Y/N would be meeting up with Charlotte, Nessa, and the others at the bar once dinner was over. Y/N explains how they waited a while to make things official because Harry wanted to make sure things remained professional. Harry easily impressed her parents. He was incredibly smart and knew how to work people over. Even her dad was happy with him.

Y/N got pretty drunk at the bar with her friends, and Harry was able to keep his arms around her all night without a care in the world. When he got her inside his place, he couldn’t stop kissing her and telling her much he loved her over and over. She was excited to start her new job in a couple of weeks, and he was excited she genuinely wanted to stay, and wasn’t just doing this for him. They would spend the time before starting her job to get her all moved in. They even talked about getting a larger place at some point.

“I can’t wait to snuggle with Mac every night.” She giggles as she gets into bed.

“Hey, what about me?” He pouts.

“I guess you’re nice to snuggle with too.” She jokes.

“Mhm.” He kisses on her and hovers over her. “My girl’s got her master’s. You’re so fucking smart, it turns me on.”

“Really?”

“When we did those mock interviews in my office I couldn’t stop thinking about fucking you.”

“Does this mean we can get a little sneaky in your office now?” She raises an eyebrow at him. “Or are you staying firm with your open door policy?”

“Think I may have to reconsider it, but only for you.”

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles slow burn #slow burn #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles smut fic #hope you like!

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forthechubbies · 4 years ago

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What's Wrong With Secretary Park?!

Synopsis• If balancing work and a stubborn ex-husband isn't hard enough, Let's add the boss’s seven sons falling head over heels for her to mix.

Category's• Romcon, Comedy, Office Au.

Duos• BTS X Reader

A spin-off of the original series ‘ What's Wrong With Secretary Kim’ Bangtan Edition! Starring the Handsome, Seo-Joon Park as the Ex husband.

There will be more parts but I didn’t want the title to be to long.

EP. One Two

“ Mrs. Park, Good Morning!”

“Mrs. Park, What does my schedule look like today?”

“Mrs. Park, Your coffee keeps me alive.”

In case you haven’t noticed, Park Yn, I’m the secretary to Jeon Sung-ho, the CEO of Dnd Parmatech, 85 percent of the time, newly build hospitals or centers use our funds as kickstarts. Daily I make schedules, appointments, filing documents, answering calls, and blah blah blah.

Is it boring? Yes, I know. However, quite refreshing coming from my hectic marriage. Once upon a time, I was wedded to the marvelous actor Park Seo-Joon for three years. I sat in the limelight and even had the privilege to play the part of his wife in movies. Sigh. Although the attention and riches were grand, no amount of expensive counseling could save our marriage. We never saw eye to eye on anything, and his short temper wasn’t helping.

Knowing my worth, I packed up and left without a doubt in my head. However, The documentation of our separation wasn’t finalized due to a certain one refusing to sign off on the divorce agreement. So physically, I’m still Mrs. Park but ain’t no piece of paper telling who I belong too.

Whatever! I have too much to focus on already! Game on, Game on! First, I got to get these papers approved and signed by Mr. Jeon then-

Buzz Buzz Buzz!

Who’s calling-

Speak of the devil. I could have sworn I deleted his contact a long time ago! “ What Seo-Joon? I’m busy-“

“ When is this little temper tantrum going to end? Darling, I think you made your point.”

“My point?! Listen here, You slimy son of-” Now, Now Yn calm down calm down don’t let him get a rise out you that just what he wants. A quick exhale should do the trick. “ Seo-Joon, I believe we reached an agreed on no type of communication unless it revolves around the settlement for the divorce.”

How is it possible I can physically see his snarky face?

Seo-Joon stretched out his list of complaints.” It’s been over a year. I miss your kisses, soft skin, that cute birthmark on your-“

“ You will not talk about such embarrassing things over the phone!” Thank goodness, Nobody was around to hear me shot like that.

“Why is this divorce still an issue?!” There goes that temper again-How whinny can one man be? “ If you don’t stop this, I will take matters into my own hands.”

I laughed. “ Ha, Seo-jerk, I’m not scared of you! Do your worst because It doesn’t matter if you drag me back home; it doesn’t subside the problem being over our marriage.” I feel like a broken record at this point. “ If this isn’t about the papers, this conversation is over, Mr. Park; please refrain from calling me again, goodbye.”

He chuckled and mumbled something along the lines of, “ Your cute acting cheeky like this.” The rest he continued louder “ Those delicate hands of yours were made to indulge in the finest silk and satin I can obtain, not working nine to five at whatever job hired a housewife with zero work ethic. I just know I haven’t touched your side of the room since that night- I love you, Mrs.Park, I always will.”

He hung up. You know, after he finished insulting my new lifestyle and calling me a useless housewife, the ‘ I love you’ bit at the end sounds sincere, but he is an actor! Of course.

Hmph! Just because I’m working for myself for one doesn’t mean I’m miserable. I’m actually in love with my job, It pays well with benefits, and I sat on my butt all day. If that pompous little bedazzled turd thinks making me the butt of his jokes will get me back in his arms, he has another thing coming!

“Um, Mrs. Park?”

“ What!” I snapped. “ Oh, Hoseok, I’m sorry!” I bowed my head; the poor thing nearly jumped out of his shoes.

Hoseok beamed his warm heart-shaped smile at me. “ Oppa is having a family meeting today; I guess I’m the first to show.”

I wasn’t informed about a meeting today from Mr.Jeon, maybe because it’s a family affair.

“Tada!” He cutely squeaks. A tasteful package breakfast alongside a tall cup of what I presume is a coffee from..’ Thanks Nature’!

“Oh my- Hobi, this cafe is across town-”

“I overhead Oppa scolding you for skipping meals one day and I’m here to do the same, don’t skip meals or else We will be hurt if something happens to you.” Hoseok pointed at the pack. “ Eat every bit.”

Hoseok displayed a small heart using his index finger and thumb, hopping off to his father’s double doors.

Mr. Jeon has seven sons in all. The man is a true saint; men like him and his sons are why I still believe not all men are dogs. After losing his wife to heart cancer, He just about went bankrupt, donating all he had to have found cures to multiple diseases hoping nobody else had to suffer his same heartbreak.

Love found him again in an orphanage just north of here, ‘Seoul Children Home.’ His first son, Kim Seokjin, at the time Jin was already in his teenage years, making it difficult for him to find a family due to the high demand of couples wanting a single-digit child. His birth family mistreated him, but he was beaten everywhere except his face to keep his handsome appearance. The family decided to put his money-maker to fair use and attempted to sell him. Seokjin saw his opportunity and high-tailed, landing himself in the orphanage where he happily lends a helping hand every chance he got. He learned how to read, write, cook, clean, and even tend to the tots when the nuns were busy.

This is how he met his slightly younger brothers, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, and Kim Namjoon; when being chosen for adoption, Seokjin refused to live without his baby brothers by his side.

“ Hello, Noona!”

Oh, Look just in time, “ Hello, You’re father is in his office.”

Namjoon eyed my edible gift from Hobi and raised his eyebrow as well as a question. “ So this is why Hyung left so early in the morning for-and I hope you’re having a good morning, Noona.”

I’m not older than them. Why do they call me Noona? Do I look old!?

“ Yn, Good morning! How are you!” Jin greeted me with English this morning. He must have been practicing with Namjoon lately.

“ I’m Fine. Seokjin.”

“Chu.” He blew a kiss my way. “ You’re not fine. You’re amazeing.”

“Amazing.” Namjoon corrected for the sidelines.

“Same thing.”

“Pronunciation is everything, Hyung.”

They stopped halfway from their dad’s office. Jin grinned. Wait, I know that smile; oh no, here comes a dad joke.

“ Hey, Namjoon-You know the reason I took the elevator instead of the stairs?”

Namjoon sighed. “ No, why?”

"I don't trust stairs. They're always up to something." Jin burst out laughing and clapped his hands.

I giggled not from the joke, but Jin has a contagious laugh.

“See, Yn has good taste.”

A slow deep groan entered the office belonging to Yoongi, lagging. “ I heard that terrible joke from the elevator.” Yoongi waved and leaned against my desk. “ Good Morning.”

“Good Morning.”

There was an awkward pause before Yoongi tapped my desk and pointed to his dad’s office from walking that way.

“Yoon-Yoongi!?”

He turned back towards me.

“ I have something for you. I packed it up on the way here.” Getting off my butt, I walked up and gave him a bottle of his favorite black ice coffee. Ew. I don’t know how he drinks it with no cream or sugar.

Yoongi smiled his gummy smile. “ Thank you for thinking of me.”

“You’re welcome.” And off he goes into the office as well.

Yoongi isn’t the biggest fan of human interaction, but he put forth an endeavor towards me, whether it’s a light ‘ Hi or Hello” or the simplicity of a wave. I admire his gusto. Sidenote, He’s so adorable-I know I know I shouldn’t be gushing over my boss’s son, but his chubby cheeks and almond eyes melt my heart like butter on toast!

Ahem-I better get back to answering those emails and drink this beautiful cup of expensive mud before it gets lukewarm. Yummy, The delectable taste is a boost of serotonin! I really should get to work buuut Hobi did command me to get every last bit and technically he is my boss through some type of weird relative aspect. He is the boss.

Just in a moment of seconds, The breakfast and drink was trash. Something that good should be sinful. I feel terrible I should have saved some for the babies; they would have some, especially Jungkook.

The babies should be here any minute.

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shurisneakers · 4 years ago

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shut in [10]

Summary: When your high profile mission goes terribly wrong, you’re forced to hide in a safehouse with a man you’ve never met before. With seemingly nowhere else to go, you’re forced to work together to figure out who is trying to have you assassinated before it’s too late. (Sam Wilson x Reader, Hitman AU)

Warnings: cursing, anxiety, ptsd, shooting, abuse

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: double digit chapter!!! like 3 parts to go everyoneeee woo!!

i also appreciate feedback so if you would like to, please consider dropping me an ask or comment ly guys!!

here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Shut In Masterlist

The nostalgia was strong.

The last time you and Sam were sitting like this, you were deciding on what to make of the bread supply that was now dwindling. The soup had ran out maybe a day or two ago and you were left with just bread, peanut butter and jelly.

You two had to devise an escape plan. You’d been there long enough and now with Sam making his first public appearance as Mob’s Most Wanted, even if it was for a good cause, there was no doubt that people would be after you.

“What if we go back to Ransone and let the rest sort itself out along the way?”

You made a note of it on the paper but you weren’t very convinced with the idea, not with the realisations you had made along the way.

“Do we know any other hideouts?” you asked instead, tapping the pencil against the paper.

“None that you don’t already know.” He chewed on his lip thoughtfully. “What are your thoughts on caves? Think we can make a bed outta some leaves?”

You wrote down ‘Sam’s cave idea’, just to humour him. Stupid, but more plausible than other options.

“If we make a run for it, what are the chances we’ll survive?”

“With law enforcement, civilians and gang members looking for us, I’d give us about-” you said candidly, “-two months. Three max.”

It wasn’t like you had no experience running from the state, but it was never on this scale.

“We’d have years if it was only law enforcement, but we had to go get the entire fuckin’ mafia involved,” he huffed in annoyance.

An idea occurred to you that made you pause, but you hated it.

“What if we split up?” you suggested halfheartedly. “It’ll take them more time to find the both of us, if they’re looking for us together.”

When he didn’t reply, you looked up at him from the sheet in front of you.

“We’re not splitting up,” he began steadily, just as you knew he would. “The same people who are after you are after me. We need to stick together.”

“I know. I’m not saying we can’t meet again after that, I’m saying that maybe it’ll be easier for us to hide.”

He couldn’t deny that it wasn't the worst idea, but something didn’t sit right with him. He didn’t want to do it.

“Okay, then how do we find each other after that? When? I don’t have your email; fuck that, I don’t even have your number.”

“We’ll schedule it, I guess,” you murmur, trying to work out the logistics. “Whoever gets there late has to buy ice cream. And I’m particular about the flavour I like.”

You tried to lighten up the mood but he wasn’t having it, as much as he appreciated it.

“I don’t care if it’s more difficult,” he said slowly. “But I’d like us to stick together. Not until we’re out of this mess. Then if you want to never see my face again, which you shouldn’t because it’s beautiful, we’ll go our different ways.”

He was adamant about it, and you knew he’d argue and poke holes into the plan until it didn’t make sense anymore. You weren’t going to argue.

“Okay,” you accepted. “We stick together.”

A smile spread across his face which equated to one of triumph. “You got any other ideas?”

“We stay right here and fight off whoever comes.”

It was dumb. This place wasn’t yours, and staying here would be a death wish. That didn’t stop you from saying it since neither of you were holding back on implausible ideas.

“This is our house now,” Sam added with determination, playing along.

“Damn right,” you affirmed, cracking a smile at him.

Bringing your attention back, you stared at the list. There is one option you wanted to explore but you weren’t sure if you could because you didn’t have the resources. But he may.

“You got any friends whose help we could use?” you asked cautiously, unsure of how this would play out.

He continued chewing on his lip for a second like he was analysing all options, before nodding.

“I got a friend. Well, my only friend,” he corrects himself. “His name’s Riley.”

“He got a place we can stay, this Riley?”

“He does. But I don’t want to involve him. He’s-” he paused, trying to find the right words to frame what he’s thinking “-he’s been through a lot.”

“We’ll leave him alone then,” you assured, realising that it must be a touchy topic for him.

Sam didn’t move on, though.

“I’m all ears if you want to talk,” you offered.

He pressed his lips together, giving you a tight smile. He looked like he wanted to say more but was holding back. You reciprocated, hoping it would give him some reassurance, noting how he exhaled softly.

“When I joined the cartel, I didn’t really have anyone to talk to since everyone was much older than I was. Riley was the first friend I made. He was a mouthy li’l one.” Sam smiled wistfully and you found yourself smiling with him. “He talked so much shit and he had the spunk to back it up but he never really got that far because no one wanted to test their luck with him.”

“We spent whatever free time we had together. He didn��t have a family so he and I-” he trailed off but you knew what he was getting at. “Ransone found out. Didn’t like anyone in his stupid squad becoming all buddies because if we turned against him, he knew he’d lose.”

Shared experience. You didn’t have any friends in the organization either; they were always separated from you willingly or by force. You wondered if that’s why you had taken such a liking towards Sam, knowing fully well that it was the first time in years you were able to be friends with someone without having to worry.

“He started pittin’ us against one another. Combat training, preferential treatment, just plain out sabotage. Riley’s the reason my back’s all kinds of fucked up.” He gave a short laugh. “Tried everything he could to make sure we’d stay away or even kill each other if it came to that.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But we didn’t,” he confirmed. “Ransone fuckin’ hated it, so one day, he decided that he’s going to finish it once and for all. Sent us on a fake mission so that we’d be alone together, then told us that only one of us could come back. One of us had to die or else both of us would. Some sick fuckin’ form of entertainment.”

It was exactly something that Ransone would do. Dramatic, vile and utterly despicable, just for his own joy,

Your eyebrows knit together when his eyes glazed over.

“Riley, he- he didn’t even let me have at the gun. Just straight up chose for the both of us that he was going to be the one who died. He was so tired, of everythin’.” The muscles in your jaw tightened at where this was going. “He didn’t do it though. We figured out another way.”

You didn’t realise how tensed you were until you forced yourself to relax.

“Faked his death.” He shrugged. “It was the only way. Let Ransone believe he bled out and that I buried him behind the warehouse he sent us to. Shot him in the leg to make it look convincing. He’s still got a limp.”

“He made a run for it. Found himself a place in New Orleans, changed his identity, basically made turned into a whole new person. Ransone bought it for a while because I’d make it a point to visit the grave, leave some flowers and shit. Told him that if he messed with it that I’d put a bullet in his head and I was angry enough for him to see that I wasn’t kidding. I knew he’d figure it out eventually but I was hoping I’d get rid of him by then.”

“He lived in New Orleans for years. Never had a problem until recently.”

Sam paused for a second, but it gave you the time to pull up an old conversation you had with him.

“He’s the one Ransone threatened you with,” you connected the dots. “He’s the one he found.”

“Said he’d kill him if I didn’t take out Pierce for him,” his words were bitter, confirming what you said. “Sent me a picture of him in front of his house to prove it.”

“Fuckin’ hell,” you breathed, leaning back. Sam’s situation was more dangerous than you initially thought. Having Riley in the picture just made it more difficult to help Sam get out of the organization, especially since he was now leverage material.

“You asked me once what the scariest thing I had done was.” You didn’t get immediately what he was talking about until you remember the questions you had asked to get to know him better. “It was that. Getting him out of this life and trying not to get caught in the process.”

You didn’t know what to say.

“He’s the only family I got left.” The way his voice dropped made him sound so tired. “He’s already on their radar. If they find out I’m staying with him or that he’s helping in any way, they’ll kill him.”

You didn’t say anything, not like you had anything constructive to offer at that moment.

“That got dark real quick,” he remarked, the corners of his lips quirking upward.

Clearly he didn’t have anyone to talk to about this. To explain the entire thing from the beginning must have drained him completely.

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that,” you said quietly.

He paused for a second, looking like he was thinking to himself.

“Me too.”

______

The sky’s beautiful, you decide.

You could stare at the clouds for hours.

Which is what the both of you have been doing.

“If you fucking say it’s anything other than a dog, I’ll push you off the roof myself.”

“It’s clearly a penguin, Samuel.”

“I hate you.”

The cement was cool against your skin even though there was a blanket serving as a mediator between you and it. The sun nipped at your skin and your back was aching from staying in the same place for a prolonged period.

Sam tended to think better when he was outside, unconstrained by harsh white walls and artificial light. So you grabbed a spare blanket, a bottle of water and the ladder to haul the both of you to the roof. It was filthy, as you expected but you managed to tidy a part of it to the best of your ability before laying the blanket down.

“I know why you brought me up here, Y/N,” he piped up.

You just knew that when you needed some space, he often implored you to go outside. You figured the best way to help him was to do the same, not knowing what else you could have to give.

“Just wanted to let you know that I appreciate it,” he added.

Okay good. It helped.

“That’s a tree.” You pointed upwards, avoiding his gaze.

“You get three more seconds to change that answer to a table.”

“That looks nothing like a table. You’re delusional.”

He laughed, not offering a counter argument.

The outside did him good. He was calmer than when you first came here a few hours ago. He didn’t let his spite towards Ransone show very often, especially at this volume. Talking about Riley only reaffirmed how much he despised the man.

“We need to get out of here eventually, you know?” you mused.

You don’t want to. You don’t want to admit that saying it out loud made it worse.

“We do,” he sounded sure and you wondered if he ever felt bad about it too, “but we need a proper plan.”

The clouds shifted. It looked like a kid on a bike; not that you’d ever tell him. He would never agree.

“We need help,” you stated.

“We can’t.” You knew he’d say that.

“You know we do, Sam.”

“There’s no one out there we can trust.”

You liked that he used ‘we’. The only other times you had been referred to as ‘we’ had been for things so sinister, so violent.

His elbow was touching yours lightly. You wanted to move closer, press against him.

“There’s one person who might be able to.”

He turned to look at you questioningly. You did the same.

You waited till he figured it out on his own. His face shifted the minute it clicked in his head.

“No way.” He turned away, almost laughing out of bewilderment.

“It’s our only option.”

“Then we’ll find another one,” he began to sound more insistent, realising you were being serious. It was a crazy idea, you’d give him that, but it’s the only one you had that had a sure shot of working.

“We’ve tried. You’ve tried. There’s only one way,” you knew that getting annoyed wouldn’t get through to him and you also understood his hesitations. “He’ll help.”

“We don’t know that. It’s too fuckin’ dangerous.” He couldn’t afford that; not this late in the game.

“I know it. Lis- Sam. Look at me,” you commanded gently, and he obeyed reluctantly. “I understand that this is absolutely batshit wild, but I promised I’d help you. This is the only way I can think of. But I need you to trust me.”

He looked unsettled.

He didn’t have anything to go on. Only your word and his faith in you. He could say no and he knew you’d spend countless hours pouring over multiple options just to find another way. He could say no and you’d take it in stride and he wouldn’t have to worry about it. It wasn’t about trusting you, it was about not trusting the others.

But he could also say yes and let you take control, trust your instincts. You had never let him down before and he knew you wouldn’t now. He could say yes and help you work on one solid plan that had equal chances of failing as it did being a success, but it was something that you could be sure of.

“I’ll tell you this though, Sam. You always have a choice.”

He felt your fingers trace at his face patiently. He scooted closer, letting your bodies press gently against each other.

“Okay,” he whispered. “I trust you.”

He didn’t know if he made the right choice or not, but the smile that appeared on your face made him think that maybe he did.

God, he was done for.

___

“You ready?” you asked him.

“No, but what the hell; let’s do it.”

You let it ring right to the very end.

“Hello.” It seemed gratuitous at this point because you knew the conversation wouldn’t proceed with that.

“Code?”

“1993.”

“Y/N. Hello,” his voice came back loud and clear.

“Hey.” You snuck a glance at Sam. He was completely stiff.

“How are you?”

“I’ve been… good,” you admitted.

“Oh?” he sounded amused. “That’s a change.”

“Yeah.” You shifted on your feet awkwardly. “Listen, I need help.”

“Help with?”

“We need to get out of here. We can’t do it without you. I mean we can, but it’d be better if you lent a hand.”

“When you say ‘we’, you’re referring to…”

“Me.” Sam stepped forward towards the phone. You shifted it so it was between you.

“Oh, hello,” he sounded surprised, and he had good reason to be. “You know about-”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Y/N, you trust him?”

“Yeah,” you looked up at Sam, “I do.”

“Alright. If shit goes wrong, you’re both fucked. I’m not taking any responsibility.”

“We get that,” you sighed. “Can you help or not?”

There was a momentary silence on the other end as he thought.

“Tell me what you had in mind.”

“We got a hit.”

They turned away from their conversation with the person walking beside them at the interruption.

“This better be important.” They gestured to their companion who looked annoyed at being interrupted. He was too dangerous to have on anyone’s bad side but the agent didn’t care. This was crucial.

“Someone saw him. Wilson.” He was breathless from the flight of stairs he had run to come upstairs.

“Where?” They could hardly believe their ears, restraining to contain the excitement that was threatening to rise.

“A town, miles away from Pierce’s place. Said he roamed around looking for a store, bought some food and then left.” His eyes shone. “We think we might know where they are. A rough sketch at least. Couldn’t follow him too far because he kept checking.”

“Finally,” their face gleamed, completely discarding the guest they had and the confusion on his face. “Some good fucking news.”

“Do you want us to put a hit out on them?” The relief the agent felt was almost overwhelming. His partner may have died but it didn’t look like he was going to.

“No,” they said crisply, certainly. “This one’s on me.”

Next part

234 notes · View notes

simmerandwrite · 3 years ago

Text

strangers - steve rogers x reader

Warnings: mentions of sexual harassment and non-consensual touching, swearing.

Word count: 4870

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: When your subway ride home takes a turn for the worst, you hope a stranger in a coffee shop will help you out.

Notes: If you saw a snippet of this the other day, here’s the full thing! I wanted to tackle some ‘in need of saving’ tropes and this just sort of happened. I’ve never posted straight up on Tumblr before but I’m a bit lacking in my experience with reader fics, so I figured this was a good place to share it. no beta, any mistakes are my own! If you like it, let me know - thanks for reading!

—

Steve Rogers liked his days off. Not that he had a set schedule week to week anyway but when things aligned correctly, he could do whatever he wanted. No world saving, no training, no report writing, no meetings.

He had scoped out a small little coffee shop in Brooklyn where he liked to spend these quiet afternoons. Usually with a book in hand (he had so many books to catch up on) or some music loaded to his phone (Nat was currently educating him on 90s punk rock) or a notebook and pencil. People watching served as wonderful inspiration to sketch.

He sipped his cappuccino, eyes tipped downward at the book ahead of him on the table. He was interrupted just moments later as someone dropped into the chair across from him.

Now, Steve wasn’t intentionally hiding out at this hole-in-the-wall cafe. But he did put on his laughable disguise still - a beaten up Yankees cap and his prescription-less thick framed glasses. He liked the anonymity. That didn’t always stop people from recognizing him.

As he opened his mouth to question the person who was suddenly joining him for coffee, she slid her phone across the table to him. Her hand shook. His eyebrows flexed into a curious frown as he looked at the screen displaying a plainly typed note:

‘Do you mind if I sit someone is following me home sorry to disturb you’

—

As if your day hadn’t been absolutely terrible enough, you spotted the gremlin of a man on the subway watching you again. You knew he worked somewhere in the same office building as you because he always trailed a few paces behind you when pushing through the revolving doors in the lobby. It wasn’t uncommon to see the same people on the same subway line at the same time every day, but this man’s presence had become an unwanted downside.

He was always there. Worse than that, he seemed to be always watching you. Today, it was even more obvious that he was following you.

When that thought first occurred to you, it had been really easy to shrug off. He was just a guy taking the subway. But when he happened to be on the later train with you one day, an uncomfortable feeling settled in your stomach.

And now, as the car was filling up even more after the second stop in DUMBO, he had moved to stand and put himself even closer to you.

You had been going through so many Next Steps. God, that phrase was the bane of your existence. Next steps, next steps..

Maybe you could tell him to fuck off. You could make an appointment with Leanna in HR and see if there is a way to figure out the name of this guy - though he didn’t work for your company so that was likely going to be a dead end. You could start taking the bus to the village before grabbing the train. Maybe you could Uber home some days instead of taking the subway. Not that you could afford that but this guy was..

You stiffened immediately.

This guy was touching you. In the midst of the crowded subway car, he was pressed against you entirely. And was he.. His hips were moving against your leg and.. Wait, that was two hands on your hips now.. Hot breath whispered against your neck and -

Fuck.

You threw yourself through the mob as the train came to a stop. With hurried feet you ran onto the platform and up the stairs, doing your best to weave through the flow of people, like a fish trying to make it upstream. You tried not to be obvious but as you snapped your head over your shoulders to look back, you saw him there again.

He was smirking. No, snarling.

Next steps, next steps.

You joined a sea of people crossing the street, taking your first left to try and steer yourself into a particular direction. You were still a far walk from your apartment but with this man on your heels, you didn’t want to lead him anywhere near there.

You grabbed your phone from your jacket pocket, unlocking it quickly and scrolling through the contacts. Surely there had to be someone you could call but even then, what could they do? Offer advice?

It didn’t occur to you until then but would it be valuable to call the cops?

Despite the late day sunlight, you suddenly felt very aware of the emptiness of the sidewalk on that side street. You needed to be around people. It definitely wasn’t logical to be anywhere near alone with this guy and -

It sounded like his footsteps were getting closer. With a panicked gulp, you yanked on the door of a little hole-in-the-wall cafe. Your eyes scanned the space quickly once you were inside. You probably shouldn’t sit alone, you couldn’t run to the bathroom if you aren’t sure where it is or if you needed a key. There were too many variables.

You needed something. Next steps..

You spotted someone sitting at a small table near the window and without thinking, you sent out a silent prayer to whoever might be listening and you rushed over. The man was clearly alone, a half consumed ceramic mug of coffee sitting to the right of his book.

Swallowing hard, you quickly typed on your phone and slid it across the table to him after you sat. You tried your best to stay very calm and hoped that he would play along. God, what if he didn’t play along and -

Behind you, the door chimed once more and you desperately wanted to see if it was that man - if the gremlin had followed you inside. You clasped your hands together in your lap and forced a smile on as you looked at the stranger sitting across from you.

Despite not knowing him, there was a familiarity about his appearance. Behind his thick glasses, soft blue eyes searched you carefully. His eyes flicked to the screen once more, stiffening in his chair as he looked past you towards the rest of the cafe.

With his right hand, he reached into the inside pocket of his coat and took out a small notebook and a pen. He scribbled something quickly and turned the page towards you.

Are you hurt?

You shook your head quickly. He offered you a tight smile and wrote once more.

Buzzcut, grey jacket?

Your eyes blew open wide and you tilted your head into a nod.

I’m Steve

He flipped the notebook closed and extended his hand across the table, palm facing up. He leaned forward just slightly, meeting your eyes with a reassuring smile. “Play along.”

Your eyes flicked to his hand and you slowly unclamped your own, grabbing his on the table instead. He was doing an impressive job splitting his attention between you and his surroundings, eyes scanning the room. He squeezed your hand very gently, brushing his thumb against your knuckles.

“Tell me about your day.”

You sucked in a hard breath. You weren’t entirely sure what his strategy was but something told you this guy was in your corner. Though despite that, you could feel another set of eyes on you.

“Uh,” you started quietly, letting the air escape your lungs. “Surprisingly, I didn’t think it could get worse before I got on the subway after work. I had a review meeting that was not great and we had a free catered lunch that was not vegetarian friendly. Missed an important email and deadline and… well, here I am whining about it and interrupting your day. Listen, I’m going to-

You moved to stand up but Steve shook his head, grasping your hand. “Give it a few more minutes, I think he’ll give up and leave.”

His words were casual but had an authoritative tone. Once more his eyes left you, looking towards the front of the cafe. He raised his free hand and motioned to one of the baristas. You weren’t certain if this was the type of place who served people at their seats but clearly he had a comfortable rapport as the young girl approached with a warm smile on her face.

“Hey Tia, could I get another?”

“Anything for you?” The barista turned her head as she asked, pony tail moving from side to side.

“Uhm.” You paused and thought. You certainly had no desire to even consider a coffee order when you felt someone’s linger gaze boring into you. “A decaf con panna, if that’s possible.” The girl confirmed it was with a nod then left the table side.

“Con panna?” Steve’s lips pulled into a curious smirk. Something about his smile calmed you.

“Espresso with whipped cream on top,” you answered. “Short and sweet.”

“I’ll have to try that next time.”

Steve sure had a soothing smile. When his thumb stopped tracing against your palm - when did that even start? - you felt an empty sadness about the loss. Wow, what did that even say about your standards when a stranger was brushing his thumb against your hand that you were so grateful for? Well, it was a thousand times better than someone rubbing his -

You winced at the memory, biting down as you clutched your bottom lip between your teeth. Though that shameful feeling hadn’t disappeared, you managed to keep it at bay. But now, it seemed to have left an image you were unable to blink away.

The sweet smell of whipped cream and the shuffling of paper cups broke you from your trance. You reached for your bag to fish out a few dollars but when you looked up, Steve was waving a hand to stop you.

It’s not that you didn’t appreciate his kindness. You did. You really, really did. But given the last half hour, you still had a hard time settling your nervous mind.

“Thanks, Tia.” Steve’s eyes were jumping around the place as the barista grabbed the cash he offered. A loud stomp of footsteps drew their attention as the Subway Gremlin saddled up beside the table.

“Sorry to be a bother, darlin’ - any chance I can borrow your phone?”

You couldn’t help but look at him. Though his words were directed at the barista, he made a point to glance over at you.

You felt Steve’s hands grip yours. When you looked towards him, his eyes were very carefully watching the man. How did he manage to -

“Sorry, we don’t have a dedicated line available to customers.” Tia politely shook her head, pointing towards the door. “There’s a CityBank up the street that can help you, I’m sure.” She shrugged and headed back to the coffee counter.

The man stood still, opening his mouth to argue.

Steve sat back, shoulders broad and steady. “Did you need directions there? I think it’s just two blocks. Maybe 500 paces.” His tone was flat. “Just out the door and you’ll be on your way.”

You kept your eyes on Steve. He kept his stare directed at the man. Finally, after what felt like hours of waiting, the man moved his feet. He turned on his heel, though not before stopping to look at you again.

“I will see you tomorrow, dar-

Steve released your hand and pushed his chair back, standing quickly and grasping the man’s shoulder.

Steve towered over him. “You have five seconds.” The man pulled away from Steve’s grip then finally stomped away. You kept your eyes tightly shut until you heard the chime of the bell indicating the movement of the door. Then, you collapsed onto your arms on the edge of the table.

Steve, meanwhile, headed to the door and kept watch for a few more moments to ensure the man actually departed from the area. Then, he stopped at the counter and exchanged a few words with Tia before returning you.

You were still doing your best to encourage the floor to open up and swallow you whole. How had this even escalated? The worst part was your mind seemed clouded with doubt. This man, you hadn’t even interacted with him before. Why was he suddenly so invested in you? To a point where he might follow you home? Were you just another target or had this been intentional?

You considered yourself a fairly observant person and yet..

You twisted your hands together in your lap and tried to consider what was going to happen now. Next steps, next steps..

“Hey.” Steve returned to his chair. Your eyes flicked up towards him, noticing he was sliding a bottle of water towards you. Your sad little espresso and whipped cream treat was deflated next to it. “Are you okay?”

You reached for the water bottle, twisting the cap open and taking a long drink. “I don’t know.” Chewing on your bottom lip, you shook your head. “No, actually. I’m not. It somehow feels like my skin is on fire and my lungs are failing me and I’m sweaty but I’m not and - and -

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Steve spoke so calmly and evenly. “Just take a slow breath with me, okay?” You closed your eyes once more and followed his instructions as he walked you through a few breathing exercises. “That’s great, you’re doing great-

When he stopped speaking so quickly, you opened one eye to look over at him. His cheeks were a warm shade of pink and his mouth was twisted into a frown. “What?”

“It just occurred to me I didn’t get your name.” He paused, as if to consider his next thought. “Although, given what just happened with that man, you are under no obligation to tell me anything about yourself. I just.. I’d like to help.”

His genuine concern for you was surprising. You allowed a small smile to stretch across your face. “You’re very nice, Steve.”

You gave him your name and he smiled back, repeating it to himself. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Your smile turned downwards when you looked towards your phone. “I should probably get going. Again, I’m really sorry for dragging you into this mess but I appreciate the… solace.” You took a deep breath and pushed your chair back, pausing to tip the lukewarm espresso into your mouth. “I owe you one.”

You winced when you heard yourself and sighed. Why did you say that? This stranger, this friendly, broad shouldered, tall, handsome stranger who’s day you interrupted, did not need your weird backhanded flirting. In fact, even though every signal in your brain seemed on edge after, well, everything, the only thing that seemed to ground you now was the kindness of Steve. So you tried to will yourself not to ruin it with any additional commentary.

You weren’t entirely sure what had driven you down this particular street into this particular cafe and towards this particular man. But, you were certainly grateful. “Actually, do they have gift cards here? I’d love to buy you one to say thank you and -

“Are you going to walk? Wherever you’re going right now?” When you looked over, you saw that Steve had stood, too. You saw his eyes move towards the door and the far windows up the street where the man from the subway had gone. “I don’t want to overstep but I hope you’ll let me walk you home. Or far enough away to have cleared his radar.”

“I feel like I’ve already wasted enough of your time, Steve.” You truly felt worse and worse for interrupting his afternoon.

“Please, I insist.” Steve tilted his head, half a smirk on his lips. “You just said you owe me one, so. I’m cashing in the favour.”

“The favour repayment you’re cashing in is.. you doing me another favour? Do you know how favours are supposed to work?” Admittedly, you knew you would feel a lot safer having someone walk home with you. And something about Steve made you feel very secure, his presence like a comforting shield.

“C’mon,” Steve replied with a laugh, nudging his head towards the door.

When you stepped onto the sidewalk, you stopped to think. “Let’s go this way.” You turned to the right and Steve followed, staying on your shoulder closest to the street. You walked in a comfortable silence - which made you nervous at first. Then, as your steps fell into a pattern, the quiet soothed you.

You pushed your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you turned down the next block. You looked over at Steve, who turned his head towards you as you shifted. “You didn’t ask anything else about the man.. Who followed me.”

A quiet hum came from Steve. “I didn’t think I should. You seemed shaken up enough.” He shrugged, peering down at you through his glasses. “If you want to talk about it..”

“I work in this big office building in Midtown. The Clifton building?”

Steve motioned his hand diagonally. “Little bagel place downstairs? That’s right down from The Avengers tower, isn’t it?”

You nodded along. Right. Stark Tower was The Avengers Tower, now. It was the most iconic landmark on that block. “Yes. Actually, I work on the 40th floor, which makes for a great angle to see Iron Man coming in.” Your smile was fleeting when you continued on. “It’s a huge building. I work in human resources for this pharmaceutical company.. But there’s a law firm in there, too. Insurance companies, start ups.. Hundreds of people in and out all day long. Yet, that man on the subway has managed to..” You stopped yourself before your chest got too tight. “Let’s just say I’ve seen him around before.”

“Do you know his name?”

“That’s the thing!” You couldn’t help but laugh now, shaking your head in dumbfounded confusion. “No. I have no idea who he is. But he often gets on the same subway line as me, watches me from across the crowd then today..” You stopped and dragged a hand down your face. “It’s a sad truth but I would say most of my friends have been.. Touched inappropriately on the subway before. I guess it’s a weird right of passage or something..”

“Wait - what?” Steve stopped in his tracks and reached his hand out to grab yours. You stopped and looked up at his eyes, somehow both soft and dark with concern. “He touched you? What do you mean?”

You raised an eyebrow, wondering if his ask was authentic. When you saw the disappointment in his face, eyes flooded with something you couldn’t quite pinpoint, you realized his reaction was genuine. You opened your mouth to explain but suddenly it seemed impossible to find the words.

Steve let go of your hand as he absorbed your lack of response and reached for his phone. “You can file a police report, right?”

“No, no.” You stopped him, placing your hand on his as he held his phone. “Trust me, that’s just paperwork that goes nowhere. Without the guy's name, absolutely nothing would come from it anyway.” You shook your head. “It’s fine, really. I might just adjust my work hours and change my route home for a few weeks. Maybe he’ll give up.”

Steve muttered something to himself, shaking his head. His face shifted from concern to something else, like his brain was working on a different trail of thoughts. He spoke your name quietly, drawing your attention to him again. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Steve’s kindness was a strange contrast to the entire experience on the subway. How one man could have such questionable intentions while another apologizes with sincerity for it was nearly jarring. Although, it did suddenly occur to you that Steve was just as much of a stranger.

“The worst part is.. men like that sever any opportunity for trust in other people. Especially blind trust. Like me telling you, a stranger, where I work and walking you to where I live. Funny enough though - every wire in my brain should be telling me not to and how it was a bad idea but.. I guess there is something about you.”

Steve sucked in a breath, eyes wide as he considered his response. “When you walked into the coffee shop, you could have asked the barista for help or tried to hide out in the bathroom. But you sat next to me instead. How come?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Like I said, there's just something about you, Steve.”

You walked in silence again, feet falling into a pattern once more. The sky was growing darker, the air cooler. After crossing the street again, you looked at him. “How do you feel about Prezio being traded to the Orioles?” You reached out and tipped up the brim of his Yankees hat. “A tragedy, right?”

A quiet laugh escaped him as he tipped his head. “I think it was a huge mistake. Don’t you think we’ve had a hard enough year as it is?” Your silence was filled with baseball talk instead and it seemed to put both of you at ease.

“This is me.” You stopped outside of a short apartment complex, pointing a thumb to the door.

Steve smiled, one hand in the pocket of his jacket as he studied you. Was this it? After the wild rollercoaster of emotions you had spilled onto him in the last hour, parting with nothing else seemed empty. Lacking. He opened his mouth and closed it, once then twice.

Finally, you cut in. “Thanks again, Steve. Really. If you hadn’t played along and scared him away.. well, I’m not sure where I would be right now. It means a lot that you cared enough about a stranger to make sure I was safe.”

Steve sighed out your name. “I’m sorry your barometer for kindness is so low.”

You sighed. “Yeah, me too.” Part of you wanted to do something. Say something else. Linger a tiny bit longer. But your feet shuffled and your hand reached for the door. “Have a good night, Steve.”

—

“I need a favour.”

“Well, good morning to you, sunshine. Did you lock yourself out of your computer again? FRIDAY can help with that.”

“Tony, this is serious.”

“Okay, okay. I recognize that scowl. How can I help you?”

“If I provided you some video footage from a security camera, can we track someone down? Figure out who they are? For full transparency, it’s just a civilian.”

“Sounds like we’re operating outside of the law, Rogers. Can you provide me with more context? I don’t mind the grey area - I just like the drama, too.”

Steve sighed, then reluctantly explained himself. The cafe. Your panicked message. The stalker of a man. The way you dismissed it all as a normal, unfortunate side effect of existing as a woman. His barista friend provided him with camera footage but he wasn’t sure it was enough.

Tony pinched between his eyes. “Men are scum. And I say that as someone in the practice of trying to be better. Recovering scum, if you will. I’ll see what I can do. FRIDAY, how quietly can we get into the security database at the Clifton building?”

—

Although you hadn’t lied to Steve, it occurred to you on your journey home that your guard should remain up. Which is why you had actually allowed him to walk you to your aunt’s apartment, instead of your own. She was happy to see you burst through the door and insisted you stay for dinner. That was a tiny silver lining to the whole mess.

The next day though, the thought of going into work was suffocating. So you opted to spend the day working from home instead, which your boss had been agreeable to, at least. One day rolled into two and you successfully avoided the office building until the following Monday. But then, you needed a plan. Next steps, next steps.

You took an Uber to the office early and left late at the end of the day, leaving out the back stairway and crossing a few blocks to take a different subway line home. It was unfortunate you had to cater your life to the chance you would run into this goon again, but your sense of security was slowly returning. That had to count for something.

Things shifted later that week. There was a sudden new policy sent out to all the staff in your office outlining new building ownership and training about sexual harassment policies.

“It’s a long time coming,” you heard someone mutter out in the elevator as you headed down towards the lobby.

“Guess Tony Stark just wants to own the whole block,” their coworker chirped back, pulling to loosen his tie.

There was even more commotion when you exited the elevator and walked towards the large glass doors. A team of NYPD officers were standing outside, shoving someone in the back of their cruiser. Your eyes narrowed. You couldn’t be certain but from that angle, you certainly recognized the bad buzzcut. Your eyes darted around the lobby anxiously and across the room, a small crowd of suits and officers had formed near..

Tony Stark, himself.

Before you could even try to understand what was going on, you heard someone calling your name. You turned your head and saw someone who looked a lot like -

“Steve?” You took a few steps towards him, pausing to glance from him back at Tony Stark and.. “Oh my god. You’re Steve Rogers. Why didn’t you say something?”

Captain America had walked you home. Hidden behind glasses and a hat. And you always considered yourself observant.

Steve just smirked, shrugging a shoulder. “I didn’t think it was important.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Should I be thanking you for all of this chaos?”

Steve furrowed his brow in mock confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe I’m extrapolating here but the same day my subway stalker gets taken away in cuffs, Stark Industries buys out this building and mandates a new policy and code of conduct.”

Steve pursed his lips, swallowing back a mischievous smirk. “Here’s the thing. It occurred to me that your best choice of action after that day was changing your entire life to avoid that man. And I couldn’t help but think about how broken that system was.”

You sighed. It had occurred to you, too. While you were relieved to shake the man from your trail, your mind considered he would probably turn his attention to someone else. And that wouldn’t be fair.

“Well, Cap. Job well done. That scum of a man had priors in Jersey, too.” Tony Stark himself had walked to where you and Steve stood. His hand clapped on Steve’s shoulder. “You’re at least going to ask her out, right? I mean, I bought an entire building for you - make a move, pal.”

Steve flushed pink and you couldn’t help but do the same.

“I’m getting a bagel. You want a bagel?” Tony raised an eyebrow from you to Steve again, smiling proudly.

“I’m good. I recommend the poppy seed though!” You called as Tony flitted away, narrowly avoiding a proper looking blonde woman who seemed very tired.

You turned your attention back to Steve. “He seems like a lot.”

“He is.” Steve nodded, motioning his hand. “I know it’s only one thing, maybe a ripple in making a difference but.. I’m hoping one less inappropriate person on the subway can give you peace of mind.”

You smiled again. Though you had seen many appearances by Captain America on the news, seeing the man in person was different. It seemed Steve Rogers walked the walk. After parting ways with him before, though he had crossed your mind, you didn’t anticipate your menial issues leading to this.

“Thanks. Really. Even one person makes a difference.” You reached out and touched his arm. “Thank you, Steve.”

“I’m sorry about Tony, though. His comments about asking you out and.. that certainly wasn’t my goal here.”

“I don’t know. You just did me a huge favour getting rid of that gremlin. I think I owe you.”

Steve caught your cheeky smile and stood up a bit straighter. “Well, in that case, the Yankees are playing the Sox tomorrow night. Tony never uses his tickets and the seats aren’t half bad. What do you say?”

“You’re cashing in this favour to take me on a date? Usually people ask for help moving or a ride to the airport or something.” You let out a dramatic sigh. “Sure. I guess you can take me to the game, Steve. If you ask politely, I’ll probably even hold your hand.”

After work the next day, Steve met you outside and you took the subway together to the stadium. You knew this wasn’t the end of it for you or anyone else worried about their personal boundaries being crossed. But, as you gripped the subway pole and your fingers grazed against Steve’s, you could finally breathe again. For the first time in a while, you weren’t anticipating next steps.

It was just you and the kind stranger from the coffee shop.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x oc #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #reader fanfiction #idk yall #simmerandcry #simmer writes

134 notes · View notes

gojology · 4 years ago

Text

Job Benefits. (Part One)

new beginnings ‧₊˚✩彡. - chapter one.

you can find part two here : part two : undesirable

pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader

warnings : cursing

wordcount : 1960

a/n : something that i’ve been working on for a while now. this is self indulgent as all hell and i’m starting a new series n idk when it’ll end necessarily but ceo gojo is all i need in my life. also i have like 300 million requests to go through but i PROMISE i’ll get them done! i just need to finish my valentines event thingy and i’ll be open!

it has come to my attention that gojo is his surname and i’m too lazy to fix anything other then the first name basis part im so sorry LOl

It’s no secret that you like working the office. Even as a child you enjoyed the formal atmosphere when you walked into your parent’s workplace, and even better, you enjoyed organizing stuff. Growing up, your favorite pass time was cleaning and organizing which caused you to excel in school, coupled with your natural smarts. Your peers would constantly tease you, telling you that you were a boring kid- but hey, you’d be making lots of money, and what better job would there be for you, aside from being someone’s secretary? Those were the first words that came across your mind as soon as you stepped into the prestigious building, heels rhythmically hitting the stainless floor, suitcase in hand. It was also the first lie that you’d tell yourself in there. You had known about this company even as a child. One that sold just about everything, the most notable being luxurious clothing, but something the company was also well known for? How attractive the family was. Sure it was a bit weird, but in defense of the general public their appearances were rare, only once in a while you’d see the family on TV. Waving in their limousine, blowing kisses and doing things rich people do, or maybe ignoring the cheering crowd of journalists and news reporters, hell like you knew. Catching glimpses of the wildly white haired family was something every paparazzi threw themselves at, and picking up a magazine or going to search something on the internet would be sure to be chock full of pictures of the esteemed family. The highlight of the family being the son, just because of how handsome he was, and also happened to be the most publicly known and fawned over family member- Gojo fucking Satoru. Luckily for you, he was your boss, so you could probably reveal the tiniest of secrets and make major bank. Unluckily for you, he was childish as all hell, not to mention you found childish people incredibly annoying. The worst thing? You were his secretary. That could only spell out doom for a man like him, and a woman like you, who only wanted to get business done and nothing else. You two truly did not mix. Two months prior, you had gotten the job and was finally excited to have stable income after graduating. Your hirers didn’t tell you anything about having to babysit a manchild though. And so, that’s how you found yourself sitting in the comfortable plush leather office chair, fumbling under the piles of paperwork and fan letters, cursing your boss’s name under your breath for being so unconcerned with work. Scheduling appointments, interviews, sending e-mails of unacceptance to eager authors asking to write an auto-biography, that was your life. You’d be content with it if your boss was normal. As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s like he heard you think. “(Y/N)-chan~!” you hear a familiar sing-songy voice down the rather short hallway. Your office resided right next to his, and it would only take him 30 seconds or so to walk down to your door, presumably to annoy the hell out of you. You grunt, blowing a stray hair out of your face. This also meant that you could hear him sing from his office, even through the thick walls. Choosing to ignore it, you instead furiously typed to another business executive’s secretary who had just emailed you about a meeting between Gojo and- well you weren’t quite sure who. “(Y/N)-chan~ I know you hear me, don’t you know it’s disrespectful to not listen to your seniors?” his playful, deep voice was growing closer, and you straighten your back, sighing. You didn’t sign up to be a daycare worker, yet this was what you found yourself doing most of the time. “I’m sorry, Satoru-sama, please instill me with your great knowledge, oh wise one.” rolling your eyes and rubbing your temples, you glance up from your laptop, bracing yourself for whatever would happen next. Gojo leaned on the frame of your door, head ducking slightly. He was way too tall to walk under it without any issue. He was unnecessarily calm though, normally he’d be jumping around your office, making a mess of things, but his body language told otherwise. He was slacking off from his duties, obviously, so you weren’t too sure why he’d be acting so... Chill. With his arms crossed, he gave you a mischievous side eye. Growing impatient, you stand up, your knuckles grinding against the tabletop. Your brow knitted together as he peered down on you, almost tauntingly, and you hated it. “Listen, boss. I have a lot to do today, for you, might I add as I am your secretary- and if you’re going to sit around I don’t think I’ll get to these emails and phone calls and everything fast enough. May I kindly assist you with anything? If not I’ll have to ask you to go back to... Whatever you were doing.” Gojo looked at you, wide-eyed and unblinking, like he didn’t expect such a sassy remark. “Oh my, sweetie. Someone has a naughty mouth... To your boss of all people? How mean! I don’t think I remember putting, ‘allowed to be rude to the Satoru clan’ down on the job benefits.. What’s with the formal tone as well? So unnecessary, just be yourself when you’re talking to me.” He sauntered closer to your desk, and your breath hitched, this was one of the first times you’d seen him up close like this, and you swore that you could hear your heart beating rapidly inside of your chest. You don’t know what that could mean; but what you did know was that you wanted to slap him or punch a hole into the glass window right behind you and throw him off the 15 floor building. Leaning in close to your ear, he whispered: “Or, if you wanna stick with the business voice- call me sir. Got that?” You nod before looking down at your desk, feeling your body heat up for seemingly no particular reason. Did this guy have any knowledge of a private bubble? Whatever, this was your superior. If it was any boss you’d probably be fired by now. You were lucky to be forgiven. “Yes, sir. May I comment on something... Er, sir?” “I’m all ears.” standing back up from leaning over your incredibly messy desk, you looked up at him, he looked down at you in response, with beady little “innocent” eyes through his circular shades. “I didn’t mean to be sassy, I only wish for this relationship to be professional and nothing else.... I, um, truly do apologize and I ask for your forgiveness.” you studied the wall as you say this, fidgeting with your hands and the hem of your pencil skirt. It was a bit awkward to talk to him as if he wasn’t a kid, but it did feel certainly refreshing. “Is that so?” you turn your head to look back at him as a sign of respect, an eyebrow of his is raised, and a smug smirk is playing at his lips. He talked with such an aura of arrogance around him, you instantly regret being respectful. Yet, you restrain yourself from slapping that stupid smirk off his stupidly handsome face. Why did all the handsome ones have to be so annoying? Fuck, no, that wasn’t meant to be a compliment. Even though it was only in your mind, you felt so embarrassed, and had no idea why. It wasn’t like he could read your thoughts, and it was just a mindless compliment, nothing flirtatious about it. Finally, he spoke. “Aw. (Y/N), I knew we picked well when we hired you. So respectful and professional! What more can I ask for out of a secretary? I humbly accept your apology- but first please do something for me.” he whistled in the other direction as he picked up one of your cute stationary pens, hastily sliding it into his blazer’s pockets. “Yes, sir?” you brace yourself for impact yet again. Not noticing that he stole one of your favorite pens. “Slack off a little. None of my secretaries ever worked this hard. I’ll slide in an extra hour for lunch, you can go watch a movie or something-” “No. Satoru. Contrary to your other secretaries, I actually enjoy work.” standing up now, you stomp over to Gojo, who was now giggling like a 7 year old girl. You hadn’t realized that you had called him by his first name, but honorifics wasn’t on your mind right now. Your chest stuck out as you shoved him out of your office with your bare hands, maybe as a way of looking more threatening, as if that’d ever work against him. “Get out of my office!” You hope your eyes are staring daggers, if he ever looked back at you. Gojo looked at you like he was shocked, tipping his shades down just slightly as you were pushing him out into the hallway. As if he didn’t believe what he was seeing, so he had to see it with his actual eyes- but eventually laughed before accepting his eventual fate. “On a first name basis now, aren’t we? You’re straightforward! I like straightforward girls though, it works out in your favor.” “Shut it.” He made sure to stiffen once in a while just to piss you off so that you couldn’t push him as easily, and before long he was back to his office. “Cya (Y/N)!” giving you a wave and a wink, he grinned. “I’ll be sure to visit you again, your office is fun!” That was just one of the unusual interactions that Gojo Satoru had with you, but you knew now that it certainly wouldn’t be the last. ‧₊˚✩彡. It didn’t take you long before you realized your favorite pen was gone. Almost immediately, you figured out who the thief was. It was evident by now that your relationship between you and your boss wasn’t normal, to say the least. You just couldn’t quite wrap your head around why he stole a cute carrot pen, it certainly wasn’t his style. Well, you weren’t quite sure honestly, but the way the magazine front covers posed him was... Sexual. Maybe the hot guy liked cute carrot pens and was too scared to buy them by himself, but, it was 2021. Toxic masculinity was basically extinct. This wasn’t on his mind when he stole your pen, though. Gojo Satoru was smart when he wanted to be. To be quite honest, he just wanted to annoy you more. It made him curious, how could one enjoy work? And be cute at the same time? The logic made no sense to him. Attending meetings, doing interviews- this was all very boring work to Satoru, and he couldn’t wrap his head around that you enjoyed that. He hadn’t asked to inherit the company, but yet here he was now. Shit, maybe he’d ask you if you wanted the company. He yawned before drinking his coffee, just how he liked it before taking a sip he straightened his tie, just to make sure he looked extra clean and fresh when you busted down the door, ruffling his fluffy white hair as he did so. Gojo hated the work environment, just to be straightforward. One thing he did enjoy was the complementary luxury coffee machine, alongside several sugar packets. Placing his impossibly long stick-like legs onto the table, he sighed happily. Cute girl being his secretary, drinking yummy coffee, the sun rays warming up the back of his head, he was truly living the life. And then he heard it. Loud steps against the tile floor. And then, his door flung open.

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tea-and-spoons · 3 years ago

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All About Accommodations 2: Working with (or without) disability services

While writing my first post about accommodations, I realized that I had enough information about actually working with the office of disability services to make an entire second post- so I did! My original post about the basics of accommodations is over here: All About Accommodations

So hopefully your school’s office of disability services is fantastic and supportive and wonderful, and they happily meet all of your needs! But in a lot of cases, it’s a little more complicated than that (I really don’t know why) so this post will be about things that can help.

I was super nervous and confused about disability support services when I first got sick, so one of my older friends took me to visit the office, just to meet the staff and learn about what they do. It was nice to get to know the staff a little before I had to get into all the personal details of my health, and just get a feel for what goes on there. Many places will have open office hours when you can just drop by and ask general questions too.

To start the process of registering for accommodation, there may be a form you fill out online, or you might just have to send an email. Or go to the actual office to say, “Hi I want to register for accommodations, what’s my next step?” Setting up accommodations is a process, so you’ll probably have at least one meeting with the people who work in this office to discuss possible accommodations. At the meeting, they’ll ask you lots of questions about how your disability affects you, and talk about what accommodations are available. They’ll also probably ask you about your classes to understand what you might need there. I try to do something relaxing and confidence boosting (like listening to music!) before my meetings. And not scheduling something directly after, so I have time to decompress. For the meeting itself, I find it helps to write and bring a list of possible accommodations and things to discuss- it helps keep me from getting too upset and then either forgetting or backing down. Remember, you have a legal right to reasonable accommodations, and you deserve to thrive in college!

You’ll also almost definitely need to submit some documentation (like a letter or test result) from a medical professional. Which is really not fair for a variety of reasons, but that’s how it is right now:/ There might be specific guidelines for what your school needs for documentation, but generally if it says, “Lovely reader of this blog has xyz condition and requires these accommodations. Signed, Medical Professional”, it should work.

Unfortunately, not all accommodations offices are as wonderful and supportive as they should be, so you and/or the person providing your documentation may need to do some persuading. This could mean having more detailed documentation, arranging a phone call between a supportive medical professional and the disability services office, or just being extremely persistent. I did once get my mom to make an “angry parent phone call” as a last resort, and it worked, but I think your school will probably be grumpy if you go right to that.

So what happens if the official office of disability services totally fails you and denies your accommodations? Don’t panic, you still have more options.

I haven’t personally done this, but I know you can file a formal grievance with your college and try to get the accommodations decision changed. You can also meet with your dean, who is higher up in the chain of command than disability services and may be able to help you.

If all else fails, you may have better luck working out informal accommodations with individual professors. But also, having official accommodations from the college means that even the worst of professors have to comply with them. So fingers crossed that you don’t find yourself in either of those situations. But I really did have a lot of success talking to professors individually. Even when disability services is already semi-cooperative, good professors will sometimes go above and beyond to make sure you’re included, and that’s pretty cool. I’m fairly certain your professors aren’t allowed to ask questions about your disability if you don’t want them to, but I would recommend disclosing a little, because having a better understanding helps professors help you.

You can also talk to your classmates and see if they might be willing to help out. For example, even if you were denied a formal note taker, someone might still be willing to photocopy their notes for you. Or like for me, I have food allergies and needed classmates to be careful, so when the college said no to formal rules, I emailed all my classmates myself and said, “Hey I want to be safe in class, can you avoid bringing peanut butter?” and they were happy to listen. Of course you still shouldn’t have to share anything you don’t want to, but I did find that accommodations that relied on other people went better when they knew who I was. I think they would see me and remember they needed to be careful, instead of it being an abstract rule, and it helps a lot.

My favorite type of informal accommodations is what my friends and I call “guerilla accommodations”. None of the adults were willing to help, so my friends made it happen in their own (not always quite within the rules) ways! Some of my favorite examples of guerilla accommodations have been: friends providing impromptu ASL translations of instructions, going into classrooms and swapping out unsafe equipment, helping educate classmates, unlocking doors to create accessible paths, contacting event organizers themselves with accessibility requests, and arranging rides. My sister even once carried me out the parking lot when there was a fire drill! My point is, just because the college told you no doesn’t mean it’s impossible. There are a lot of good people out there who are willing to help, even if they’re not the ones that work in disability services.

I wish you the best of luck on your quest for accommodations!

#accommodations #office of disability services #disabled college student #disability #disability advice #teaandspoons #chronic illness advice #chronic illness #spoonie

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blueluneacy · 4 years ago

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Your Thoughts on Pages

This is the second place fic! It ended up not having sex, but rather just sweet moments and rohan being... weird. Once I finish everything on my list, I might do a follow up to this!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: pining, inappropriate use of stands, rohan majorly overstepping his boundaries, slight angst

“Kishibe, I really don’t understand why I needed to come all the way out here for this…” You sighed, putting your binder to the side as you allowed yourself to sit down for the tea that Rohan had insisted on. Rohan was a nice enough person, but after the time you had worked with him, you could tell that he was a fairly independent kind of writer. Other writers you edited for liked to be in contact with you, or asked for your opinion on this or that, but not Rohan. That’s not to say you didn’t have a good relationship with him, just a bizarre one. The two of you had a nice long chat when you first became his editor, and it became very clear that you were not to mess with any of his vision. No one ever dared to try and give Rohan ideas on what he should do, or try to tell him that what he was writing was not what was wanted for the magazine. You simply collected the pages once a week in a neat envelope, and you would scan it all in. It was a nice, neat and cordial relationship. You never had to get on Rohan’s case about deadlines or the content of his work, to the point where the two of you rarely communicated. It wasn’t like you disliked the man, it’s just that you had a bunch of other artists to hound about this or that, that Rohan ended up as a nonissue. He was ol’ reliable, someone you didn’t have to deal with, the dependable artist. Even if the world was falling apart, Rohan Kishibe got his pages in on time. You supposed that him calling you then should’ve made you worry, but you were too focused on the meetings you had to cancel in order to see him.

“Oh, come on now, it’s been a long while. I figured I better be kind to my guest. And er… Butter you up before I hand over bad news.” Rohan told you, the last part of his sentence making you freeze up. Oh god, was he quitting? Were his hands broken? Was it, dear god, carpal tunnel? A million scenarios ran through your hand as Rohan sat down across from you, but absolutely none of them were what was actually going on.

“Bad news? Alright, lay it out on me. No sugar coating, the more I know, the better I can fix it. I mean, that’s literally what I’m here for, right?” You tried your best not to be nervous, already mentally writing out all the emails needed to clear out your day for this. If Rohan had bad news, then it was bad for everyone. Dark Pink Boy was easily the reason why most people bought the magazine in the first place, and you weren’t sure how everyone would take a hit if Rohan had to take an extended leave. But, he just sighed, leaning in a little, looking you right in the eye.

“I’ve run out of inspiration. Nothing is working, it seems like there’s nowhere for me to go.” He sighed, and for a moment, you actually… Relaxed. Well, alright. Rohan was going through a rut, that’s all. Perfectly natural for someone working as hard as he was. And, probably more easily fixable than carpal tunnel. Probably.

“I… I see. Well, how do you feel? Have you tried going on walks or something, or just… Well, I don’t know. Maybe reading other people’s work?” You suggested, shrugging a bit. Alright, this you could actually work this. You worked with probably over a hundred artists at this point to help them through writer’s block, and you succeeded most of the time. Why would Rohan be any different? Well, you did forget one detail.

“Other people’s work?” You actually heard him scoff at the very notion. “Of course I wouldn’t do that. My characterization is based on my observations and knowledge of real people, in order to write highly realistic characterization. My writing just wouldn’t be the same if I stooped to actually reading other people’s work. It’s a cycle of tweaking that would lead to me creating garbage.” Ah, that’s why Rohan was so difficult to work with. He was a diva when it came to his work, and it was also why you never had bothered to comment on his work in the first place. You had heard that the previous editor had tried to make Rohan tone down some of the themes in Dark Pink Boy, and it ended up in a fierce battle that left the old editor actually retiring. You didn’t want the hassle, and the readers liked the work as it was. You could hassle to make something family friendly with a smaller mangaka, you weren’t about to offend what was for all intents and purposes, the company’s bread and butter. So you bit your tongue and nodded, trying to think of some sort of solution.

“I see, I see… Well, there are plenty of fans who I’m sure would die to even talk to you, let alone help. Why not set up a meeting with a few and have some questionnaires ready? Or are you concerned they might give false answers because of who you are?” You tried, but Rohan just sighed and nodded.

“You already picked up on my concern. I know that any fan I would go to would ultimately be starstruck. I’ve tried with a few already, but it just never worked out. They were… They just weren’t the type of people my fans would enjoy. But, luckily, I do have a solution to all this. That’s where you come in.” Rohan told you, scooting just a bit closer as you let out a sigh of relief. Oh thank god, you wouldn’t have to write all those emails after all. He just needed your help with something? Thank god, you could easily do a few tasks for him. Beats trying to psychologically get this man through some sort of writer’s rut.

“Really? What is it? Just let me know, and I promise to do the best that I can.” You gave a smile, nodding a bit. Rohan could see the tension in your shoulders relax a bit, causing him to smile a little. Rohan always enjoyed your company, but he knew the relationship the two of you shared as much as he did. It was best if an editor didn’t get in the way. You knew that, and he appreciated that. It was almost embarrassing to him that he had to turn to you like this, but he quickly shed any shame he had for it. I mean, you weren’t really going to help in any way that others hadn’t helped before. If anything, this was more allowed because you were meant to be his resource. It wasn’t like you could complain.

“Well, I know you don’t idolize me. If anything, you seem frantic to get away from me.” Rohan said, a bit teasing. You jumped in to try and defend yourself, only for Rohan to continue. “Don’t worry, I know you’re busy. But, it’s perfect. You’ll be a perfect base to jump off of. Genuine, no need to impress me, and doesn’t care about influencing the end of the story.” He told you. You just sighed and pulled out your phone, already typing out the emails to clear out the rest of your day. You knew Rohan was meticulous, so this was already going to take a while. Might as well give yourself the time now.

“Alright, ask away then. I just need to clear out my schedule so I don’t have to abandon ship on you. I think the rest of the day should be doable…” You replied, not noticing how Rohan had stood up, an eerie grin crossing his face.

“Oh, that should be more than enough. But I don’t think I’m going to be asking any questions…” You turned to look back at the man, only to find his hand hit your face, your body tumbling onto the floor. You tried to pull yourself up, only to find that you couldn’t move. You gasped, your form starting to tremble as your eyes darted to your cheek, noticing paper fluttering in what used to be the skin of your cheek.

“Kishibe, what is going on-” You spoke out, only for Rohan to climb on top of you, straddling your body. You gulped, already expecting the worst, only for his to take the paper into your hands and start to read.

“Hmm, interesting. Those are the names of your parents, and… Oh, I see, I see!” Rohan reached over to grab a pen and notepad, jotting down a few notes.

“W-What are you… What’s happening, why can’t I move? You’re scaring me, Kishibe..” You whimpered out, trying to find some sort of handle on your fear, leaving Rohan only to sigh.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand this. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need some information, and the easiest way to get it is to read it right from you.” Rohan’s voice was cold and methodical, as if he were just telling you the ingredients of a cereal box. You tried to get a reign on your emotions, watching as Rohan read the papers from your face, writing down the information that he liked onto his notepad, before turning the page. He was interesting to watch like this. You imagined that this was probably the way that he was when he was working, his eyes intense and focused. It was a nice look for him, really. You supposed that you never really had the time to appreciate it, but Rohan really was quite pretty.

“You shouldn’t be thinking those things when it gets written down right before me.” Rohan pointed out, leaving you to sputter as your face turned red. If he was just bluffing, your face gave you away anyways.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! S-Stop being weird!” You tried to bite back, but Rohan just smiled a bit, leaning in a bit to read aloud from the pages.

“‘Rohan’s eyes seem so focused right now, I never noticed how pretty they were. Do you think he uses his own face as a base reference, the lighting right now is actually pretty incredible. If we weren’t like this, I might actually-”

“Alright, that’s enough of that, I think you’ve read enough now!” You replied, starting to get a bit antsy. Was he just going to read everything you thought of him, because if so… Uh oh. Big uh oh.

Sure, you had gotten over it by now, but there was a major problem. Namely, how you felt about Rohan on a personal level. When you were only a junior editor, you had developed a minor crush on the man, falling head over heels at the first glance you had of him. Sure, you were probably over it now, but at the time, it was bad. You never really pursued it, after all, you were supposed to be working together, but this… This was about to get really embarrassing.

But your frantic nature regarding your own life story seemed to only egg Rohan on more, determined to read as many pages as he could. So, he flipped through, apparently skimming for his own name, before he finally landed on something. You could tell it was something juicy, reading before his smile seemed to fall and his eyes widened.

“I… I see. I didn’t know.” Rohan told you, leaning back for a moment and thinking. You averted your eyes, trying to come up with something to say in response. When you finally collected your thoughts and opened your mouth to say something though, Rohan just smiled, grabbing his pencil and instead moving to the page. “Well, we can always make adjustments here, just to see what would happen. Think of it as… Playing out a scenario.” Rohan replied, but as the pencil started to come closer to your face, you couldn’t help but snap.

“Rohan, you can’t just manipulate my emotions, it isn’t right!” You yelled, leaving Rohan to lean back, staring at you for a moment before crossing his arms, looking away as if pouting like a child.

“I thought you wanted to help me with my writing.” Oh, so he was pulling that card? You had had just about enough of whatever strange things were going on with Rohan for a lifetime, with him not even letting you process what was happening before jumping onto the next thing, working quickly and efficiently in a way that made your head spin. “You know… That was the first time you called me by my first time. I used to insist you did, but I eventually gave up. The first time was you yelling at me. Figures.” Rohan let out a bitter laugh, and you started to piece a few things together as he placed down his pencil, shaking his head a bit.

“W-Wait, Kishi-... Rohan. Just, pause for a minute. I think maybe we should… I don’t know, talk? About whatever the hell is going on right here and now?” You told him, only for Rohan to roll his eyes.

“If I tried to explain the concept of a stand to you, it would probably go over your head, and I’m not sure that it would even matter in the scheme of things, considering the-” Rohan started to go off, but you just stopped him, sighing a bit.

“Not about that. About… You. I can’t tell what’s going on in your head, and that hardly seems fair, since you know everything going on in mine. Tell me what’s going on. What’s really going on.” You tried to keep your voice cool and calm, looking over Rohan and even trying to smile just a bit. Rohan sighed, and looked at the ground, his nails digging into his palms.

“It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be thinking these things, feeling any of these things, I don’t know why they’re here and I can’t get rid of them. I shouldn’t have made you come all this way, I…” He drifted off, leaving you unsure of if he didn’t know what else to say or didn’t have the will to say it. Either way, it looked like it was up to you to save this situation. You took a deep breath, looking at Rohan intensely in hopes that it would make you look at least a little more serious.

“Rohan, make it so that I can move again, please.” Your voice was probably a little more demanding than you meant it to be, the please added more to make it seem like you were ordering him to do anything. Rohan froze up for a moment, before reaching in as closing the pages on your face. In an instant, it was like your entire body loosened up, and you looked at Rohan, just examining those eyes you found so beautiful. Rohan seemed so sheepish for his normal personality, starting to scoot off of you to give you a bit of space.

“I should let you go, I’m sure there’s some way I can get through all this. Maybe I’ll even try that reading idea of yours, if all else fails-” Oh, Rohan. You weren’t sure if he was trying to act more pathetic than he was feeling, or this was the truth, but you fell for it all the same. You sat up the best you could with him on top of you wrapping your arms around Rohan and pressing your lips against his. Was this impulsive and stupid? Oh, absolutely. But did Rohan’s lips feel warm against yours, melding together with you in a way that just felt right, like it was meant to always happen? Yes. Yes, of course.

And Rohan’s eyes widened, his nails digging into his palms as if to make sure this wasn’t a dream, that you weren’t some figment here to haunt him. But no, you were real, you were soft, and with that confirmation, Rohan let himself melt into the kiss, moving to wrap his arms around you, to just hold you for a moment. This may be his only chance, so he might as well take advantage of it. When you finally pulled away, Rohan almost felt bad, knowing that this moment might never come again, that this moment might have been out of pity instead of true affection, that everything would now officially be at an end. And yet, wheels started to turn in Rohan’s head as he turned away, his eyes widening.

“Oh… Now, that would be a perfect arc!” Rohan shot up from your lap, already pacing a bit and snatching up his notepad, making his way to the stairs while talking to himself. “If I take the positioning from the last chapter, we’re in the prime position to introduce a new character, so some sort of design correlating with the current theming shouldn’t be hard, if I take…” He started to go on, and you knew that in a moment or three, it was going to be impossible to pull him out of his haze. You couldn’t help but laugh. Well, at least you seemed to have solved the problem you had come here in the first place to solve.

“Well, I take it you have ideas for your next chapter. That’s good. I suppose then…” You looked around at the now cooled tea that Rohan had offered you, the awkwardness you had just induced into your relationship, and got the vibe that maybe it was time to leave. But as you gathered up your things, Rohan’s head up snapped to you, his train of thought broken.

“Hey, stay. I… I want to talk to you after I finish writing down a few things in my office. About… Us.” You noticed a light dusting of blush over his face, making your own face flush. Oh god, it was like your old crush was flaring up all over again. Lord have mercy. You looked at the ground, just nodding a bit and sitting back down.

“A-Alright. Come back quickly, okay? I… I’m glad that I could at least help you a little bit. I know I’m sort of useless as your editor, but still…” You laughed a bit to try and lighten the mood, but Rohan just shook his head.

“Oh, (Y/n). You always seem to help me. Even just seeing your face is all the help I need sometimes. I’ll be back soon. Feel free to grab what you want from the kitchen.” With that, Roha ran up the stairs to work on who knows what, leaving you alone to your thoughts, sitting in Rohan’s living room.

Leaving you to think about a kiss you probably never should’ve given, and the joy that it was most likely about to lead to.

#rohan kishibe/reader #rohan kishibe x reader #rohan/reader #rohan x reader #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #jjba imagines #writing #my writing #mine #sfw

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alpacaparkaseok · 4 years ago

Text

7 Secrets <pt. 5>

GENRE: Soulmate!au BTS!

WARNINGS: none woohoo

WORD COUNT: 5594 lol sorry there was a lot to get through here but at the same time I'm not sorry

Part 5!!!! You guys I had so much fun writing this part. We are getting down to it. I’m literally so excited. Let me know what you guys think! Thanks for all the support! Also, if you guys have any requests for future stories regarding our boys, hit me up! <3

Minsuh is already waiting for me by the time I exit the building, and I slide into the passenger seat as quickly as possible.

“What’s going on? I have a missed call from Mr. Bang. Should I call him back right now?”

Minsuh looks over at me, and I pause at the look in her eyes. My stomach drops as I expect the worst. Even in the dim interior lighting of her car, I can see just how pale her face is.

“Beth…”

We’re still idling in front of the building, but I feel the whole world spinning around me too quickly.

“Minsuh, what’s going on? Did something happen?” I take a shaky breath. “Are the boys alright?”

Minsuh is quick to reach out and grab my hand, and I notice the tremor in her hand as I cling tightly to her.

“They’re fine, I’m so sorry, I should have clarified sooner.” I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. If something were to happen to the boys...I can’t finish that thought.

“Then what’s going on?”

Minsuh shakes her head, turning to face forward again before beginning to drive. Even though I feel immense relief knowing that the boys are alright, now I’m beginning to imagine other scenarios. Why would Mr. Bang call me? He never does unless it’s a schedule call to update me on something.

“Bang wanted to call us tonight, but it was a last minute thing. So he did, and we talked.” I wait for her to continue, and she looks like she’s struggling to even speak right now. “We wanted to wait for you, so he didn’t say much…”

“Well, what did he say? Does he want me to call him?”

“No, he’s still on Facetime with everybody. That’s why I came to get you, though. He said it’s really important and that everybody needs to be present.”

I run a hand through my hair, ignoring how it shakes. This morning when I felt so calm and happy seems like years ago.

“Wait, what did he say though?” I realize that Minsuh has done an excellent job at avoiding the question, which does nothing to quell my fears.

She simply shakes her head, focusing on the road. “I don’t think it’s my place to say, but I swear it’s good news. I’m just shaken up. That’s all.”

Good news? I highly doubt it’s that good if Minsuh looks like she’s about to pass out. In fact, she probably shouldn’t even be driving.

What on earth could Mr. Bang want? And so suddenly?

Of course, my mind wants to scream out at me it’s time it’s finally time, but I shove that voice down. I’ve been through too many close calls thinking that I was finally going to come face to face with my soulmate only to be shut down. That kind of thinking only ends up in heartache.

The drive that should have taken much longer than it did (Minsuh is definitely speeding), is suddenly coming to an end as I recognize the Udon place we ate at last night just a couple of blocks away from the apartment. With every passing second I feel like I’m speeding closer and closer to fate. My right foot reacts instinctively as it pumps the brakes only to realize that I can’t.

I realize for the second time in my life that I cannot control fate when it comes knocking. The only thing that I can control is myself.

By the time we park I’ve been practicing my breathing exercises, trying to get my rapid heart rate under control. The street is peaceful, the evening stars just peeking through the bright lights of the city.

Standing there just outside my apartment, I gaze up at the night sky and breathe. In and out, deeply. I cling to the sliver of peace that settles upon me, promising myself that no matter what happens tonight, the stars will still be there. Tonight, tomorrow, and beyond. Fate may toss whatever it wants at me, but the stars will not fail me.

A soft touch at my elbow alerts me to Minsuh’s presence, and she looks at me for a moment before wrapping her arms around me in a hug. I return the embrace, absorbing the unspoken love and support.

“Shall we?” I ask. Minsuh nods, linking her arm through mine as we enter the apartment.

I’m not sure what I expect to see when I go inside, but I know it wasn’t Bang PD’s face staring out at me from our television. Somebody must have connected their phone to the tv to make it easier for all seven of us to take the call.

“Ah, Bethany, how kind of you to stop by.” Mr. Bang’s warm tone carries the innocent-sounding sarcasm we often use with each other. I smirk up at him and I take off my shoes and hurry over to the couch, taking a place between Minsuh and Himari.

“I saw you called me. Sorry I missed it, some of us have work to do.” Mr. Bang grins down at me, and I hear Seohyun give out a strained chuckle. A quick observation shows everybody to be in a similar state to Minsuh. In fact, it looks like Minsuh is better off than most of them. Probably the reason why they sent her to pick me up in the first place.

Mr. Bang clears his throat, drawing my attention back to him. He’s looking beyond his screen, and my heart stutters as I wonder who else is in the room with him.

Please not Namjoon, please not Namjoon.

“So what’s going on? You don’t tend to call without scheduling it first.”

Himari slowly moves her arm until it’s linked through mine, her hand gently squeezing my forearm. I glance at her but her eyes remain glued to the tv.

“Well, remember that conversation we had a little while back, when you requested that I give you a 48 hour notice before meeting your soulmate so you could have enough time to catch a flight to Antarctica?”

I swear I hear a surprised laugh in the background of the call, but the pounding of my heart in my ears overpowers any other sound at the moment.

Breathe, now is not the time to pass out. Remember, that’s Aera’s job.

“Uh-huh,” I mumble out, then remind myself to not look like a zombie. “Yeah, I remember. Why do I get the feeling that I’m once again the last person to know about something important?”

When a few of the girls come out of their trances enough to chuckle knowingly, I suddenly lose the ability to move. Instead I sit there completely still, awaiting Mr. Bang.

Awaiting fate.

Which, in most cases, Mr. Bang and fate are pretty synonymous for me.

“Yeah, sorry about that. You’re just hard to get a hold of sometimes.” When I have no snarky reply for him, he continues. “Ok, Bethany. Consider this your 48 hour notice.”

It takes about five seconds for the weight of that sentence to really sink in.

I always thought that when I was given the long awaited news that I would shortly meet my soulmate, the world would slip away from under me and I would feel like I was floating among the stars. I would be happy, shocked, I don’t know. I would just float there and Namjoon would be the only one to bring me back to earth. Him, and only him. It would be beautiful, and that would be the beginning of everything.

Instead, the world suddenly comes into focus.

I’m blatantly aware of everything surrounding me. It’s like I’m seeing the living room for the first time, seeing the girls for the first time as they turn to assess my reaction. Everything is so tangible, so real.

I can’t tell if it makes me feel small or empowered or just extremely human. Whatever it is, I pull through the shock settling into my bones just enough to slip back into that sarcastic charm I’ve relied so heavily upon all my life.

“Alrighty then,” I mumble, frowning slightly when it comes out in English. Mr. Bang simply grins again. I get up from the couch, the sudden urge to move and feel the ground beneath me impossible to resist. “48 hours? I could probably pull some strings, make it to Antarctica in time. You don’t happen to have any pilot friends, do you?”

Tension that I didn’t know what there before fades from Mr. Bang’s face as he laughs at my ridiculous question. Again, his eyes trail away to look beyond his screen. Who is he looking at? I can’t muster up the courage to ask. Instead, I slip into professional mode. It’s easy enough, seeing as I was just in my meeting this afternoon, slipping into the same persona.

Right. This is just a meeting. We need to hash out the date and time, location. Just like any other meeting. Make it through this meeting, Beth, and then you can do whatever you need to do.

“Ok, I’m assuming that you already told everybody else all of this before I got here?”

“Yes, I did. Sorry, I couldn’t wait.”

“That’s fine. Did you already go over what time? Where?”

Mr. Bang straightens up at my tone, a flicker of an emotion similar to respect in his eyes. “No, I haven’t yet. Would you like to now?”

I nod, then scurry off to where I dropped my bag when I entered. Grabbing my phone from my purse and pulling up the notes app, I settle back down on the couch beside Himari.

“How are you not losing your mind right now?” Himari whispers beside me, so quietly that I almost don’t hear her.

I shoot her an amused look. “Because I think I already died.” I whisper back, and it’s enough to get her to laugh, some of the icy nerves retreating a bit. (and then returning as I remember that we’ve still got our microphones on for the documentary and they caught every word)

I shrug it off, bringing my attention back to the matter at hand.“Alright, let’s hear it.”

↔

The rest of the call passes by in a blur, with Mr. Bang sending us an email with all the needed details. He carefully goes through each point, giving an outline of what awaits the seven of us the day after tomorrow.

Which, as I notice that it’s already nearly 11 pm, is going to be here sooner than I think I want.

“So just go ahead and come up to my office on Thursday, and I’ll be there to help you out with everything else. Sounds good?”

Everybody numbly nods, the emotional exhaustion setting in. I can’t help but grin as I realize with a start that I was given the news about having a soulmate on a Thursday three years ago, and now I’ll finally meet him on a Thursday.

It would appear that fate has a thing for Thursdays.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to just drive there? It’s not that far from here.” I ask the question for the second time. It’s nice that he wants to send a van from the BigHit building, but it just makes me feel a little silly. Like we’re famous or something. Which, when I see Ichika sitting at her usual spot on the floor with a bowl of cereal at her feet, I note that we are anything but famous. I don’t even know when she got up to get cereal.

At least she’s eating. I’m not sure I can stomach anything right now.

“Don’t worry about it, please. I know that it’s going to be a stressful day for everybody, the last thing you need to worry about is driving. The van will be there at 5 pm sharp, just be ready.”

I nod, letting it go. It will be nice to not have to worry about driving, even though it’s only a half hour drive from here. I’ll just have to find something productive to do all day so I’m not losing my mind.

“Ok. That’s fine. Is there anything else?” I hide behind a yawn that quickly passes to Himari at my side.

“That should be everything. Double check the email in the morning after you’ve all rested, and let me know if you need anything.” Mr. Bang sighs, clearly as worn out as we are. “We’re all excited to see you.”

We. “By we you mean you and the staff, right?” I jokingly ask, earning a laugh.

“Obviously. And maybe a few other people as well. See you Thursday?”

“See you Thursday.”

He cuts the call, leaving the seven of us alone in the dimly lit room. I stand up, prepared to pace, but find that I’m too tired to even try. I end up laying down on the ground, staring up at the ceiling.

“Ok,” I start, running my hands through my hair for the fourteenth time tonight. “Can someone please explain to me what just happened?”

The others grunt in agreement, each of us just as much in shock as the other.

It’s silent for a couple of minutes as each of us try to process our thoughts. I close my eyes, mind going a million miles a minute as I try to fathom that after all this waiting, I’m finally going to meet my soulmate.

A sniffle breaks the silence, and my head shoots up as I see Minsuh with her head in her hands, her shoulders shaking as she quietly sobs.

Everybody is quick to move, all of us surrounding her in a matter of seconds. Aera gently massages her shoulders before leaning forward and nuzzling her face into her neck.

“What’s wrong, Min?” Aera questions, and we exchange knowing glances.

“It’s just,” Minsuh continues crying into her sweater paws, the sight making my heart ache. “What if h-he’s disappointed? I just don-don’t want to disappoint him. I thought I would h-have more time…” Her sobs cut off the rest of her sentence, and my heart cracks on her behalf.

“Oh, Minsuh.”

“You’re not going to disappoint him, I promise.”

“Minsuh, you’re the best of us,” Ichika softly whispers, brushing the hair out of her face. “There’s no way Jungkook could be disappointed. Why do you think Bang PD called so suddenly? I bet Jungkook found out about you and couldn’t wait a second longer to have you in his life.”

Minsuh slowly looks up at Ichika, her eyes red and puffy. “You think so? I don’t think so. Do you think they even know about us yet? Maybe Mr. Bang hasn’t told them yet, a-and we’re just going to be an unwelcome surprise.”

I wince at her words, her fears similar to my own.

Ichika shakes her head firmly, her hand resting just beneath Minsuh’s chin as she looks into her eyes.

“Absolutely not. Minsuh, that’s not going to happen. You know what’s going to happen?” Minsuh shakes her head ‘no’, her eyes wide. “I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. We’re going to meet our boys,” Ichika’s voice wavers with emotion, but she continues on. “And it’s going to be the best, most memorable day of our lives. We are going to go together, because we’re sisters and we have each other’s backs through thick and thin. We’re going to walk in there and see them and you know what’s going to happen? Aera’s going to pass out, Soon is going to lose the ability to speak,” Soon chuckles, nodding her head in agreement. “Himari is probably going to trip over her own feet, I’m going to spill something on Taehyung, I’m certain about that. I’m not sure what Beth is going to do, but I can guarantee it’s going to be something embarrassing. Very, very embarrassing.” I gasp, pinching her. “Ow! And Seohyun is going to burst into song or something and not be able to stop.” Minsuh bites her lip, a little smile gracing her features. “But you know what? You’re probably going to waltz in there like a freaking princess, and Jungkook is going to be in absolute shock. You’ll make up for all of our clumsiness, and you’ll be so amazing because you already are.”

The seven of us stay like that for a long time, Minsuh’s quiet sobs finally subsiding some time later. At some point she falls asleep, and Aera curls up on the couch next to her, quickly following suit.

Seohyun gets up to go make some tea, Ichika offering to help.

“I’m making chamomile, to help me sleep. Anybody else want some?” The rest of us request it, knowing that we won’t be able to fall asleep as easily as Minsuh and Aera. Not when I keep startling myself every five seconds as I suddenly remember that I’m meeting my soulmate in less than two days.

Himari pats the cushion next to her, and I settle down with a grunt. She flops her head onto my shoulder, and we both stare out the far window into the street. Kyung-soon takes up a spot on the floor at our feet.

“I don’t think I’ll really be able to believe it’s happening until we’re there, actually meeting them,” Himari says.

“Me neither,” Kyung-soon fiddles with her blanket. “Do you think they’re freaking out as much as we are?”

“Oh definitely,” Himari chuckles.

The thought of the boys sitting together and talking like we are now warms me up like hot chocolate.

“Oh, no. What am I going to wear?” I wonder aloud. Everybody else groans in agreement. “Anybody down to go shopping tomorrow?” I ask, already mentally planning an outfit. Everybody is quick to agree.

By the time Ichika and Seohyun arrive with the tea, Aera has roused from her sleep, rubbing her neck.

“Were you guys talking about going shopping?”

Slowly but surely, the heavy shock begins to lift and a lighter feeling replaces it. As I look around the room at my soul sisters, a little pang of nostalgia strikes me. This is one of the last times we’ll be like this. Just the seven of us, with so much uncertainty hanging over us. I wonder how many times I’ll revisit this memory of us sitting together in the middle of the night, entertaining ideas about the boys, outfits, and all the possibilities life has yet to offer us. Future nostalgia indeed.

By the time we actually do decide to go to bed, it’s already 4:30 in the morning. The conversation had taken many different turns throughout the night, including all of us eventually talking about our concerns. We’re excited, yet so afraid.

Aera and I sneak up the stairs as quietly as possible, careful to not wake Minsuh who’s still sleeping on the couch.

“Hey,” Aera whispers before I slip into the darkness of my room. “You didn’t really say a lot about how you’re feeling with everything. Are you sure you’re ok?”

I nod slowly, exhaustion painting itself over my features. “I’m fine, I think. To be honest I think I’m so tired and shocked still that I don’t even know what to feel at this point.” Aera nods along, understanding perfectly. “Maybe I’ll know after I sleep. I think I’m happy, though. And terrified.”

“A great combination.”

“Yep. See you at breakfast.”

Aera raises her eyebrows at me. “Breakfast? I don’t think so. I’ll see you at lunch.”

↔

For the second day in a row I wake up after 10. I blearily open my eyes, checking the time and grunting in indifference. I roll over again, trying to talk myself into sleeping in a little longer. I deserve it. Jet-lag, emotional exhaustion, and staying up until nearly 5 in the morning have done quite the number on me.

I’m nearly asleep again when I sit up straight in my bed, my brain remembering the reason why I was up so late last night.

“Holy freak, holy freak.”

Was that real? I’m still so tired that it feels like a dream.

I scramble to my bedside table again, pulling up my emails on my phone. Sure enough, the email Bang PD sent last night is still there. My eyes drink in the information as quickly as possible, triple checking the date before I finally allow myself to breathe again.

Oh yeah, it’s real. And it’s tomorrow.

The need to get up and move around is suffocating me, my heart already pounding like I’m running a marathon. I slip into the nearest clothes I can get my hands on, the blouse and jeans making me look way more put together than I feel, and I rush to the bathroom to throw my hair back into a ponytail and slap the bare minimum of makeup on my face.

I'm in such a rush that I nearly forget to brush my teeth, and before I know it I’m tiptoeing down the stairs and past Minsuh’s sleeping form still on the couch. I have no idea how she’s been able to sleep this long, I definitely envy her.

Before my brain even catches up with my body, I’ve grabbed my purse and shoes by the front door and slipped out into the morning. The second the door clicks shut behind me, I breathe in deep, closing my eyes as the sun warms me up.

It’s much easier to process everything once I’m outside of the apartment and back in the real world. My feet make their way about three blocks away, to a street vendor that I frequent on the days I have morning meetings.

There are a couple of free benches on the sidewalk, and I sit there as I eat my breakfast. I haven’t eaten since yesterday afternoon, and my stomach is probably what really took control this morning. However, it’s still not enough to make me finish all of my food. I eat about half before I stop, my brain grinding its gears again now that I have some food in me.

As I watch the hustle and bustle of the city all around me, I feel like I’m in some sort of limbo. Everybody is going about their normal business, oblivious to the fact that my life is at a hinge-point and I’m not sure which way it's about to swing.

Try as I might, I’m still restless. There’s not much I can do to help that, I’m sure I’ll be like this until I’ve met my soulmate and put my worries to rest. I wonder if Namjoon is up and as restless and me right now.

Minsuh’s words from last night come back to haunt me. What if they don’t even know about us yet? I can’t decide which one is worse, them knowing and anticipating us, or a surprise visit.

I eventually muster up the strength to order six more meals before beginning the trek back to the apartment. The burn in my arms as I carry a heavy bag on each side brings me a sense of satisfaction, the energy I’m using acting as an excellent distraction.

It’s already noon when I walk through the door, and I see Seohyun talking quietly with a half-asleep Minsuh. “I’m back, and I brought food!”

Seohyun smiles readily at me, her smile contagious. “You left? I swear, we need to put a bell on you or something.”

“Do you want my food or not?”

It doesn’t take long before Seohyun is in the kitchen, divvying up the food to Minsuh and Kyung-soon, who’s still got a towel on her head from the shower.

“Is anybody else up?” I ask, and everybody shrugs in response.

“I thought I heard Himari get up not that long ago,” Kyung-soon offers, and I set off in search of my friend.

I follow my hunch, climbing the stairs as I make my way to the top floor of the apartment. I ponder waking Aera as I pass our floor, but go against it and continue up the stairs. There’s two bedrooms up here, which belong to Ichika and Himari. I knock on Ichika’s door and tell her that there’s food downstairs. Her response is a groan and a thud that sounds suspiciously like her body hitting the floor. I suppress a giggle and continue on my journey to the upper balcony.

Sure enough, Himari is lounging in a chair with her face turned up toward the sun. Her eyes jump open as soon as she hears me opening up the sliding door and sidling out.

“Hey Himi,” I greet.

“Hey. Is everybody else up?” Her voice sounds like she just woke up.

“Yeah, except for Aera. Who knows when she’ll get up. Probably not for another hour or so.” Himari nods, closing her eyes again. She has dark circles under her eyes. “Did you get any sleep?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“No, not for more than sixty seconds at a time. You?”

I nod a little, grateful for the good five hours I got. “Yeah, a bit. I went out and bought food for everyone if you’re hungry.”

Himari hums in acknowledgement, not making any move to get up. Instead I settle down on the chair beside her, propping my feet up on the railing.

We stay like that for a while, basking in the companionable silence. There’s so much to say, and yet I’m at a loss for words. What does one say in these kinds of situations? ‘Hey, don’t screw up meeting your soulmate tomorrow! Go, fight, win!’

It’s Himari who breaks the silence nearly ten minutes later, and I wonder if she dozed off for some of that time.

“I...I don’t know what to feel.”

I wait, knowing that more is coming. When she doesn’t speak for a while I prompt her. “What are you feeling right now?”

Himari sighs, sitting up and stretching. I notice that she’s wearing the same clothes as last night. She must have just came straight out here last night.

“I feel so tired that I can’t hardly think straight, but I’m so wired right now that I can’t sleep. I feel like I’m drowning, and like I won’t stop until tomorrow. And tomorrow feels so far away but at the same time it’s way too soon. I keep thinking that Hoseok must be feeling something similar, but what if he doesn’t even care? I think, more than anything…” she turns to look at me, and I wince at the fear I see in her eyes. “I keep imagining what he’s going to say when he finds out that his soulmate isn’t even Korean. Not that I think he would hold that against me, but I can’t help but think that he might be a little let down or uncomfortable knowing that his soulmate is from Japan.”

She settles back down with a huff, and I do too. It’s something we’ve talked about a lot, the fact that we’re not from here. Neither one of us care that our soulmates don’t share our nationality, but it’s something that I’ve worried about a lot, imagining what Namjoon will feel when it turns out his soulmate is very much an American.

Sitting here, looking at one of my best friends in the world, I can’t imagine Hoseok being anything less than elated. Himari is amazing. Loyal, hilarious, smart as a whip and one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever seen in real life.

I’ve told her as much every time we’ve had this conversation. There’s not a lot left to say. It’s a hopeless feeling, knowing that even the most honest statement will do little to mend another. So I choose a different approach.

“Well, if Hoseok is sad that you’re Japanese and not Korean, I’ll just tell everybody that Trump is my uncle or something and he’ll be so grateful to have you that it won’t even matter anymore.”

Himari looks at me like I have horns coming out of my head before she bursts out into laughter.

“Oh my gosh that’s the best idea you’ve ever had!” Her cackles fill up the street, and I find myself laughing alongside her. “Sounds good. Deal.”

↔

Nearly three hours later finds the seven of us piling out of two cars as we arrive at the shop Aera picked out. She finally stumbled down the stairs around 1, exhausted but ready to go shopping. It took some convincing to get her to eat first, but it paid off in the end.

I can’t help but gawk at the as we enter the store apparently owned by one of Aera’s friends within the designer circle.

“Holy cow,” I mutter under my breath. My friends chuckle at the English phrase, it always makes them laugh. “Are we even allowed to be in here?”

Aera laughs at my bewilderment even as Minsuh drags her away into the depths of the store. “Of course!”

Time seems to stand still as we spend hours in the shop, trying on different outfits and each of us vying for the attention of Aera as we trust her opinion the most. We bicker back and forth about how casual or formal we should dress, until Aera finally texts Bang PD to ask. He responds with “wear whatever you want” which does little to help.

“Ok,” Aera rounds us up like a preschool class. I munch on a churro that I snuck out and bought a few minutes ago, Himari eyeing me suspiciously. “Let’s just follow Mr. Bang’s advice and go for something we each feel comfortable in. I would advise a casual-nice outfit, we’re trying to make a good first impression after all. At the end of the day, though, I want you guys to stay true to what you like. I know you all very, very well, so I will know if you’re lying.”

Ichika salutes her before heading back into the mess of clothes she’s picked out. The clock above her has me dropping my chin to the floor.

“Um, what time does the store close?”

A worker pipes up from the cash register. “Don’t worry, we’re open until midnight.”

I sigh in relief, glad that we won’t be in too much of a rush even though we’ve already been in here for hours. My stomach protests staying in here without proper food for much longer, and I promise it that I’ll be done within the hour.

↔

An hour and a half later five of us waddle out of the store clutching our bags as we make our way to the nearest restaurant. Minsuh opted to stay behind with Aera, who had been so busy helping everybody else that she hadn’t even hardly begun looking for herself. She assured us with a wink that she wouldn’t take long. Apparently her professional eye had already picked out a few outfits throughout the day.

The five of us order food, settling our things into a corner booth as we complain about our feet hurting and discuss our outfits.

“We’re going to look so good.” Himari smiles, and I’m glad to see that her confidence has taken a boost since this morning.

“We need to make sure we get enough sleep tonight, though.” I add, giving her a knowing look.

“Ay ay, captain.”

The rest of the night passes in a blur, Aera staying true to her word and showing up with Minsuh only thirty minutes later. When she shows us her outfit, we all agree on it.

“How are you so good at these kinds of things?” Seohyun asks, bewildered. Seohyun has a reputation for being indecisive when it comes to her clothes, she relies heavily upon Aera’s expertise.

“Practice, practice, practice.”

“Speaking of practice,” Ichika interjects, “We need to practice not losing our minds tomorrow.”

People glance at us from their booths, clearly wondering what we’re talking about as we bounce ridiculous ideas off of each other. At one point Kyung-soon says she’s going to run laps around the BigHit building in order to burn off some steam before going in.

“Jin’s going to look outside the window and see you in your new outfit running laps around the building.”

“Yeah, and he’ll probably just say, ‘screw it, I’m joining her.’”

“Actually, that would totally happen.”

“Meanwhile the rest of us are hiding in the van.”

“Eating churros.”

“Oh, definitely eating churros.”

“Do they sell churros here? Now I’ve got a craving.”

By the time we make it back home we’ve eaten our fair share of churros (my second one of the day), Seohyun bought earrings, and we’ve come up with a code word for Aera when she feels like she’s about to pass out. (the code word is ‘holy cow’. Yes, in English. I’m dying for her to use it.)

We all go our separate ways, Ichika behind me as I climb the stairs to my room. She pauses to hug me goodnight before continuing up to the next level. It’s late enough for me to not even bother checking the time before I slip into my pajamas and fall into my bed. Who knew shopping could be so draining.

Fate is kind to me tonight, as I fall asleep in no time. The final thought on my mind is the fact that tomorrow is Thursday, and my life is going to change forever.

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Ok! I’m so excited for our girls to finally meet the boys! I’ll upload pictures of the outfits I was thinking of for everybody. I hope you enjoy! If you want to join the taglist, let me know! :)

taglist: @heartblackerthancoffee @mae-musicbitch @taylorroe3

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