#which would be great if I didn't need to study for finals | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beginningofwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Stay Focused - San

Pairing: university student y/n x office worker San

Genre: smut with plot (MINORS DNI!)

Word Count: 12.5k (I don't know what happened)

Summary: Your mother insists on getting you a tutor for your studies. You want to resist until you meet Choi San, your tutor. His sweet talk and good looks make you focus on anything but your studies and you do everything to finally catch his attention in the same way.

Warnings: San is a few years older (5 to be exact), some nipple play, fingering, some orgasm denial, lots of dirty talk, blowjob (face-fucking leaning), protected sex, mirror sex

The reader in this is so horny omg. Just straight up trash for San (relatable). Also very long build-up.

"Good is not enough in this family," your mother repeats to you for what feels like the 100th time. „Your grades have to be exceptional if you want to work in my business."

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you change your phone to the other hand to stir your pasta around. You just told her about your recent test results which of course are not satisfactory to her.

The problem is that you are actually doing pretty good. You never missed or failed a class, you passed all your courses with at least a good score and you had even fulfilled additional classes to broaden the spectrum of your studies. But just like she said: Good is not enough for her. She won't shut up about your grades until you reach 100% in all of your classes - which is basically impossible, especially in your field of study.

"Do you even still want to work in the family business?" your mother asks you provokingly. And the problem is, you do. You really do. Your mother is the CEO of a big pharmacy company and ever since you were a kid you followed her interest in chemistry. You even chose your pharmacy major without her influence. But now that you are taking the same path as her, she is all in your business about being the perfect little mini-her.

"I do, mom. I'm working hard on it, I promise. The next exam is in four weeks and I already started studying."

She makes a huffing sound before answering you: "You said that the last three times as well and still didn't get a full score. You should really get a tutor."

"Mom! I'm the best in my class. Why should I get a tutor? I'm doing great!" You are glad you're only talking to her on the phone so that she doesn't see the way your hands clasps over your face. She can't be serious with you. Getting a tutor with your grades is just embarrassing.

"But not great enough. You know what? The son of a close business partner recently started working at the company. He graduated a few years ago with an honour's degree and seems to be a very promising young man. I'll ask him to tutor you."

Your cheeks start to heat up just at the thought of how embarrassing the whole thing will be for you. Getting a tutor that worked for your mother is literally the worst case scenario. You feel like a high school student that doesn't pay attention in school and now gets scolded for it.

"I do not need a tutor, mom." You state once again but her mind is already made up.

"I'll give him your number and he will contact you. And don't you dare be rude to him, his father is very important for our business!"

You can't believe her words. Since when have you ever been rude to anyone she introduced you to? Your mother ends the call before you can protest any more.

Angrily, you fish a single spaghetti out of your pot to taste it. It's perfectly cooked when you munch on it in annoyance.

--------------------------------

This is Choi San.

Your mother told me you needed tutoring on your pharmacy classes and gave me your schedule.

I can teach you Tuesday and Thursday afternoon from 6PM. Would that work for you?

You fall back onto bed with a frustrated groan as you read the messages. She really asked him. Now you have no choice but agree to him tutoring you because your mother would kill you otherwise.

Typing a reply you take a deep breath. This will be such a waste of time for the both of you.

Hello! Tuesdays and Thursdays are good. Thank you so much.

You hate how pathetic you sound. What are you even thanking him for? You don't want him to tutor you and he was definitely forced by your mother so why even play pretend?

No problem. We can use meeting room 117 at the company since I reserved it for us. I'll see you on Tuesday.

You dread Tuesday every single day from now on. When it finally arrives you feel ridiculous as you enter the large building of your mother's company. You have been here countless times but you never thought you would get tutor lessons here.

Even worse is that your mother made you go greet her beforehand. She specifically texted you to visit her office before the appointment with Mr. Choi. You walk past her assistant with a polite greeting and finally enter her office.

The luxurious room sat at the top floor of the building with a nice view over the city. Sometimes you forget how successful her company actually is. It can be quiet intimidating.

"There you are," she greets you with a mere look up from a bunch of files on her desk. "I hope you prepared well for your tutoring session. Please don't embarrass yourself in front of Mr. Choi. His father is an important business partner of mine and he himself seems to be a very promising employee. I don't want my own daughter to make him think worse of the company."

Of course she only worries about the company. The idea that this is incredibly humiliating for her own daughter does not even cross her mind.

"Hello, mom. Of course I prepared well, I always do. I won't disappoint you."

She nods at you, satisfied with your answer before looking at her watch. "Then you should head to the meeting room. He is always ridiculously early for meetings so he's probably waiting for you already."

Great, you think to yourself. You hoped you would be able to grab a coffee beforehand.

"I'll go right away. Bye, mom."

You walk to the elevator with heavy steps and check your own watch. It's still fifteen minutes until 6PM so there's plenty of time to grab a coffee before, no matter what your mother might say.

Entering the elevator you select the floor of the meeting room with the plan to walk to the coffee pantry first. Half-way down, the elevator stops on a different floor. When the doors open you almost choke on your polite "Hello" as your eyes take in the person in front of you.

Walking into the elevator is easily the most attractive man you have ever seen in your life. Dressed in a tight pair of dark pants and a perfectly fitted dress-shirt the handsome stranger repeats your greeting with a small bow and a mind-numbingly attractive smile. His eyes carry a little glimmer even behind the round pair of glasses he wears and as he pushes back his black hair you feel like swooning.

You have to keep yourself from staring when he takes his place in the elevator and both of you wait for it to move. Just now you realize he hasn't pushed a button, which means he is heading to the same floor as you. Out of the corner of your eyes you can't help but watch him.

He is a few inches taller than you but appears even bigger due to his broad frame. You wonder where that man even finds clothes that fit his stature with his broad shoulders and tiny waist. He checks his most definitely expensive wrist watch before looking at the display counting down the floors.

When the elevator doors open with a ding, you almost jolt. You were so caught up in thinking about how good he looks that you didn't even notice arriving on your floor. The handsome man gestures for you to step out first with another deadly smile in your direction.

"Thank you," you barely breath out as you step out of the elevator in front of him. It feels like the air outside is ten degrees colder. Without looking back you head to the pantry of the floor. You need a coffee even more than before now that you can only think of that guy from the elevator. There is no way you can concentrate on tutoring now without some caffeine.

The benefit of being the CEO's daughter is having a card with unlimited access to the coffee machines so you happily press the button for a black coffee. At the familiar buzzing sound you can finally relax and take a deep breath. No man has ever made you so flustered before just by existing. Maybe you should visit the office more often if that was the kind of employees your mother hired.

Taking your coffee into one hand and your study bag into the other you turn around to head to the meeting room. Caught up deeply in your thoughts you almost run head first into the person behind you.

"Woah, careful there. You don't want to spill that coffee do you?" his voice is smooth like honey, with a joking tone to it. You blink up at him a few times before you find your words.

"I'm sorry. I was distracted."

The man from the elevator smiles at you and you feel your body warming up from the inside out.

"Don't worry, nothing happened." He looks you up and down quickly before holding eye contact once again.

"Excuse the question, but do you happen to be director Kim's daughter?"

You stare at him in confusion. "Yes. Yes, I am. How did you know?"

He moves past you, grabbing a cup from the pantry himself and turning on the coffee machine before he answers:

"You share her eyes. But more importantly, your bag has a pin of the pharmacy faculty of the university and because I'm supposed to meet her daughter for tutoring on this floor in - " he checks his watch again: "exactly 12 minutes, I figured it might be you."

You are impressed. His looks are already enough to have your eyes turn into hearts but there is probably nothing that makes a man more attractive to you than his wit. But what hits you even more than that is the fact that THIS was your tutor.

I take everything back mom, I love tutoring. Sign me up for another year.

"Well, you figured correctly," you reply weakly, at a loss for words. "Nice to meet you Mr. Choi."

You put your cup on the pantry table to reach your hand out to him. He takes it with a smile.

"Nice to meet you too, Miss Kim. I was going to get the two of us some coffee but as I can see you already helped yourself."

Oh, so he's a gentleman as well.

"Next time you should let me take care of that," you said showing him your free access card. "I happen to own the key to infinite coffee."

"Does the caffeine addiction come for free with that as well?" You chuckle at his joke.

"I think it's the requirement to get it in the first place."

"Well then I will happily let you get us coffee next time."

Next time, you think. The reality that you will be seeing this man on a regular basis hits you.

For a second the two of you just smile at each other. Then Mr. Choi notices that his coffee is done and he grabs the cup.

"Let's head to the meeting room then. I wouldn't want to waste your time."

You sir, can waste my time any day of the week, you think to yourself but obviously keep silent as you follow him to the room.

He holds the door open for you and you settle down onto one of the meeting chairs. You always hated these things. They are designed to make you sit upright and therefore terribly uncomfortable. You desperately want to fold one of your legs under yourself like you always do at home but you have a good image to keep. After taking a seat across from you he puts his bag onto the table and looks at you expectantly.

"So what topics exactly are you struggling with? It's been a while for me but I'm sure I can help."

"To be honest with you, I don't really need help on anything."

San raises his eyebrows behind the round glasses on his nose. "What do you mean?"

You sigh, not knowing how to explain this dilemma best. "My mother made me get a tutor because she believes I need better grades. In fact I'm the best of my year with perfect attendance and an average of 95%. She says that everything under 100% is not enough which is why she must have thought of you as a tutor."

San just stares at you with a peculiar look on his face. He looks almost impressed from your words.

"I knew director Kim could be quite strict but I had never imagined that extent. I'm sorry she made you do this, a 95% average is very impressive in the pharmacy field."

"Says someone with a perfect 100% graduation," you snap back, a little more spiteful than you want to. But San doesn't seem to take it the wrong way. Instead he chuckles in response. The sound sends shivers down your spine, his voice dipping way lower than you had expected it could.

"Trust me, that wasn't all brains. I only know my way around people." You don't doubt that last statement for even a second.

"Maybe instead of teaching I can give you some tips around the university. That would probably help you more."

Now you are interested.

"What kind of tips for example?" You lean forward resting an elbow on the table as you pick your cup of coffee up for a sip. It's still burning hot but you pretend you didn't just burn your tongue as you set it back down.

"Does Mr. Han still do the medicine lectures? He's been using the same exam template for years. Pharmacy students are just to selfish to share the results with the younger students. I'll look for my old exams later to give them to you."

Your mouth opens in awe. Everyone from the year above had told you Mr Han's exams were the hardest and it turns out they were just lying to intimidate you. The competition was real.

"These fuckers," you mumble beneath your breath but judging by his chuckle, San heard you just fine.

"Sorry," you excuse your language immediately with a small nod. He is still an employee under your mother and she told you explicitly to act well around him. Hiding your uneasiness you go for another scolding sip of coffee.

"Don't worry, darling. I won't go complaining to your mother about your language. You don't need to be her perfect little girl for me."

You almost choke on your coffee and have to force the liquid down your throat with an effort. You really wish they didn't but his words made your insides squirm. The amount of money you'd pay him to call you 'darling' again is surely an embarrassing amount. But good little girl also didn't sound too bad from his mouth.

"Thanks," you mumble, not knowing what else to say and stare onto the table to hide your flushing face. If you look at him with those slutty, round glasses right now, you're sure you'll combust.

You don't notice, but Mr. Choi eyes you up and down carefully before he resumes speaking. He smiles at your flustered state that obviously doesn't escape his sharp senses. Seeing your pretty face flush from only these few words, satisfies him deeply.

"Then how about that toxicology class? If Mr. Lim still teaches it, I know a few ways to get on his good side. He always picks favourites and it shows in the grades."

Mr. Choi continues listing off ways to better your grades around your professors. You can't help but be impressed. Not only is he obviously very intelligent but also great with people. Maybe what kept you from exceeding in your studies was your rather reserved nature in class.

"How about this," Mr. Choi finally proposes after teaching you some of his ways. "I'll get you my old notes and exams and with that you will surely ace all your tests. Then we can meet up for these tutoring sessions and while you study in peace I can get some work done. This way your mother is happy and we both profit from the situation."

You nod without hesitation. "That sounds like a great idea. Thank you so much, Mr. Choi."

He groans at your words, a sound that makes you react in a way you don't even want to put into words.

"Please don't call me Mr. Choi when we're alone that makes me feel terribly old. My name is San."

"Aren't you older than me though?" you ask back carefully. It doesn't feel right to call him by his first name.

"If 5 years are old to you?" he inquires with a slight teasing edge to his voice. You don't know if he's flirting with you or if you are just becoming a witness to this man's effortless social skills.

Truthfully, you are 22 and 5 years more don't seem that much to you. Still his way with words and the confident aura around him make him seem more mature.

"I didn't say old. Just older."

He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness, leisurely resting one of his elbows on the backrest behind him. "Just call me San, darling."

There it is again. That word single-handedly turns you into a blushing mess within seconds and you find yourself agreeing without another thought.

"Okay, San."

A satisfied smile spreads on his face and you marvel at the dimples that form on his cheeks. "Much better. Than how about you do some studying and I'll get some work done now?"

"Sounds good," you reply and start taking out your classwork. He could've told you to start stripping right now and you would've agreed without question. Damn you are down bad for him already...

It is a weird situation at first. You are used to studying around strangers in the library, but sitting alone in a room with San makes it hard to focus on your upcoming test. His eyes keep flicking from his work laptop across to you and you don't know if he's interest in the topic you're studying or you.

You yourself on the other hand are surely interested in him and you can't help but steal a few glances at him working diligently at his laptop every now and then. Even typing on his keyboard looks ridiculously hot on him with the way his slender fingers run over the keys.

After about two hours of you trying to keep your eyes on your notes San finally closes his laptop and stares at you until you reciprocate his look.

"I guess two hours is enough to make your mother think you studied, right?" he asks with one corner of his mouth slightly lifted.

"Sure," you respond weakly.

"I'll look for my old tests and will bring them on Thursday," he goes on as he stands up to pack up his laptop and bag. You also start gathering your study books.

"Thank you again," you answer lamely. But the promise of already seeing him again on Thursday excites you.

When you proceed to grab your now empty coffee cup his hands react quickly as he snatches it from you.

"Don't worry about that, I'll put those away," he's leaning over the table now, smiling at you through slightly closed eyes and you can't help but be entranced by his looks. "You should make sure to get home before it's dark outside. Want you to get home safely."

"Don't worry about me, I'll manage."

"Oh but I won't if something happens to you and your mother finds out you were last seen with me," he replies cockily as you two finally go to the door.

You have to chuckle at his remark. "Good to know I'm not the only one terrified of her."

"Everyone is terrified of her," he mumbles under his breath but you are already reaching the coffee pantry - aka your cue to go home.

"Can we use the same room on Thursday?" you ask as you stop in front of him. You make sure to brush your hair behind your ear in a nonchalant manner, knowing it shows your good angles.

"Yeah, I already booked it," San replies easily, eyes fixing yours from above. "But let's meet at the coffee machine here. I want to at least take advantage of that free coffee if I give you all my study secrets."

He winks at you at the last part of the sentence and it makes your insides twirl like on a rollercoaster. You give him a small smile through fluttering lashes. "So that's what you meant with a win-win situation: Endless coffee. Well it looks like I don't have a choice but to be your personal coffee machine."

You want to punch yourself right after that sentence leaves your mouth. How much more stupid could you possibly sound? Personal coffee machine. Saying you wanted to be his personal slut would have been less embarrassing.

But San doesn't seem to mind your awkward response. "Sounds good to me," he replies smoothly. "Then have a good ride home and I'll see you on Thursday."

"Until Thursday," you reply before you can say something stupid again and stroll off to the elevator with a small wave.

As soon as the doors close behind you, your head thumps against the steel wall. There is no way you will get any studying done with that man in the same room as you.

---------------------

Your next few meetings with San go on smoothly. You are always on time but he is still earlier than you, waiting for you at the coffee machine. You get both of you a coffee - sometimes two if you feel like it - and you two get to work in a comfortable silence sitting opposite to each other in the meeting room.

After San brought you his old exams you can now prepare exactly what you need to know for your next tests. But no matter how hard you try to focus on your studies, your eyes keep wandering from your books up to the handsome man working on his laptop.

You soon notice his seemingly endless closet full of tailored dressing shirts and perfectly matching pants. He always looks immaculate, not a single wrinkle on his shirt and his hair always neatly combed back. Even his skin is flawless to the point that you start questioning if Choi San might be a figment of your imagination.

Just like his outer appearance, his manners are immaculate. Like you already noticed on your first meeting, he is a sweet talker. Always knowing the right thing to say and never letting your conversation end in awkwardness.

Whenever he feels like taking a break you notice him starting to talk to you. At first he asks how your studies are going. Then he wanders off to the professors you two shared and how he managed to ace all his classes.

Your whole attention is glued to his lips. For one thing because the information he can provide you with is crucial to your academic development but much more importantly because his lips are the prettiest thing you have ever seen. They look so plump and smooth while he's talking that your mind can't help but wander to the other things he might be able to do with them besides talking.

If at your first meeting you were down bad for Choi San, one month later you felt like you were drowning and he was the last bit of oxygen left on earth. You wanted him with a passion that you didn't even know you were capable of.

But you couldn't have him. There was too much at stake. He still worked for your mother and if you made a move on him that he wouldn't reciprocate you would risk the eternal hate of the only woman that still held control over your life. And so far San hadn't shown any sign of feeling the same way about you that you did for him.

„You're stuck on that?" San suddenly asks you over the page of biochemistry that you've been staring at for a solid five minutes. You haven't spared a single thought on the topic in front of you. Your mind is only occupied by the thought of San leaning over you on the meeting chair, your chin in between his slender fingers as he smirks down at you. You hate him for having this effect on you when you so desperately need to focus on your studies.

You really need to get your thoughts together.

„Oh no I was just getting carried away," you answer, looking at him pointedly with a sly smile.

You tried little attacks like this on him before. A casual pull down of your shirt, stretching your arms to make it ride up over your stomach or even looking directly at his lips as he spoke. But no matter how daring you get you can never catch San slipping.

His eyes stay on yours only whenever he looks at you, his tone is always polite and never goes farther than a casual joke. You simply can't draw a single reaction from him and it drives you insane.

„Do you need a small break? We could get another coffee," he offers helpfully.

I don't want a damn coffee I want you to fuck me on this meeting table.

"I'd love to, but I'm already way too warm today. I fear the AC can't fight against the heat anymore."

It has gotten exponentially hotter over the past days and you can feel it even inside the modern building.

"You're right, it's quite hot in here," San says with a disappointed face. "What a shame we don't have iced coffee. We should get some on Tuesday!"

His eyes light up in excitement and this little sliver of pure happiness doesn't escape you. It's surprising how cute he can be with that shamelessly hot body of his.

"Do you know a place near?" You ask to drag on the conversation. You yourself know at least 3 cafés in the area that sell iced coffee but you want San to tell you a place. Maybe his favourite. So that you can go and think of him.

"Yes, I can show you!" he answers proudly.

"I'd love to." You send him a gentle smile with long eye contact before both of you look back at your work.

But your concentration withers away like the dying plant in the corner of the room when Choi San begins undoing the buttons of his shirt sleeves.

You know you shouldn't but your eyes immediately watch as his slender fingers start neatly folding up his sleeves. The muscles in his underarms dance beneath his skin as inch after inch of skin gets revealed.

You feel like a medieval man salivating over exposed ankles as you stare at San's arms. The veins are protruding in the heat and his honey skin is glistening under the bland neon lights.

Your heartbeat quickens and it's mostly because it feels like you finally found San slipping. Him rolling up his sleeves is like a crack in his perfect mask and you are certain that he wouldn't do it anywhere else in the company. He only does this because he is with you.

"Shoot," he suddenly exclaims and draws your attention up to his face. You catch the small pout that appears on his lips before he looks back at you.

"What is it?" you ask him.

"I forgot to book the meeting room for Tuesday and now everything is blocked. There is a work event next week. I should've booked it earlier."

"Oh," you simply reply. This is even more confusing. You don't believe that San would ever forget such an important event. Is he trying to get rid of you?

"Don't worry about it, darling." His smirk and the nickname has you fighting for air. "I'll find us something else."

You can only nod at him with a smile. Maybe he isn't trying to get rid of you.

The rest of your study/work time flies by as your mind thinks of all the possible meeting places you and San could have for Tuesday. You feel like a highschool girl dreaming about dates with your crush but you don't care. The man that is supposed to be tutoring you just makes your heart speed up in a way that you haven't experienced ever before.

When your meeting time comes to an end and San starts packing up his stuff he simply says: "How about we meet at my place next time? I don't like working in cafés it's always so crowded and noisy. And I have coffee too."

You snap up at him in surprise at the proposal. "Sure," you reply as nonchalantly as you can at the prospect of going to Choi San's apartment. Alone. With him.

"I can pick you up here with my car after work. So you don't have any extra way."

"That sounds good," you reply with a small smile, trying not to sound too excited.

"Then until next week," he says with one of his handsome smiles and you say your goodbyes before you can turn even redder in his presence.

When you walk onto the elevator this time and the door closes behind you, your heart is pounding into your throat. As the realization sets in that you will be alone with Choi San in his apartment a satisfied smile set over your face. Oh you will use that chance for sure.

----------------------

You spend the entire day preparing for your tutor appointment with San. Something deep inside you tells you that this behaviour is ridiculous but you push this inner voice back down as you play your favourite music and get ready.

You wear your hair in light waves and put on makeup to bring out your eyes but not look overly done up. Your outfit was a tricky matter but you settled on a classic pleated skirt and a tight long-sleeve. Everything about your appearance today lands on the thin line between innocent and suggestive and you are satisfied when you twirl around in front of the mirror.

All you want is one small reaction out of the man that you have thirsted for over the past weeks. If Choi San even so much as lets his eyes scan you up and down, your mission would be successful. Lost in your task of getting ready you almost forget to actually pack your study books before heading to your mothers company.

You two agreed on San picking you up at the company's garage. So you are taking down the elevator to the parking floor and checking yourself one last time in your phone camera before stepping into the parking lot.

Having no idea how his car looks like you pull up your chat with San, wanting to ask him where to go. But before you can type your message a calm voice calls you over from across the parking lot.

"Y/n!"

You turn around to a sight that makes your heart flutter. San is leaning onto his car, a chic black Mercedes. His white dress shirt has one button unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up again. His feet are crossed over each other leisurely as he waits for you to come over.

Walking up to him you have to try real hard to look casual and not like your nerves are taking over you with the impending situation of being in the same car as San for an undefined amount of time. Your heart is beating already and he hasn't even called you any nicknames yet.

"Hello, San. You're not wearing glasses today?" you notice in surprise and hope it doesn't come off as too attentive.

"Sometimes I wear contacts," he replies smoothly. "It's a styling decision."

While you love the glasses on San seeing him without has a different charm to it. Almost like he is showing you a different side of him.

"Ready to go?" you ask him to keep the conversation going and you're almost proud of your nonchalant tone.

"Ready when you are," he replies with a light smile and walks around the car to open the door for you.

Of course he opens the door for me.

Before you can get in he also takes your bag from you to store it in the back. You want to refuse but one of his smiles finally makes you give in and you hand him the bag. Finally, you thank him and sit down in the passenger seat. The car looks even nicer on the inside: leather seats and perfectly clean. Something inside you starts questioning where this man hides his flaws since noone can possibly be this perfect at all times.

"It's only a 20 minute drive," San explains as he gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. You can't help but watch his hands as he manages the gearshift. But as he turns around to look for obstacles his eyes get stuck on you. For a second you think you got him. That his eyes linger on you for a little too long because you finally pulled a reaction out of him.

"You haven't even put your seatbelt on, darling."

And with that your mind is blank. Simple emptiness.

Before you can react, his hand reaches past you, grabbing the seatbelt and plugging it in. His hand doesn't so much as grace your shoulder for a millisecond but you feel like your lungs are constricting.

"Thanks," you breath out before he finally pulls out of the parking spot. He does that wildly attractive thing where he put his hand on the back of the passenger's seat while driving backwards and you feel like losing it already. How will you survive being in the same apartment with this man. San however seems his usual chatty self.

"I'm sorry again for not booking the meeting room in time. I already reserved it for the weeks to come," he starts talking to you.

"Don't worry. I totally don't mind," you answer and regret it immediately. Did that sound too eager? Something about Sam's presence makes you overthink every single word you say.

"I have a fancy coffee machine at home so I can at least return the favour of you getting me coffee all the time."

You smile at that. It feels like this little inside thing between you two how you always use your company privileges to pay for both of your coffee. San thanks you every single time, bringing up how much you save his day.

"I never thought you were that much of a coffee guy at home too," you say trying to get him to tell you more about himself.

"You're acting like I didn't go through pharmacy as well!" He replies with a slightly sulky tone. "No way to survive that major without getting addicted to coffee."

You chuckle at his response. "That's true unfortunately. So you just carried the addiction into your job?"

"You could state it like that but by buying a fancy machine you can just say that coffee is your hobby instead."

Whenever you two talk about mundane topics like this you can't help but be glued to his lips. To get a glimpse of the Choi San that isn't working over-hours all the time and kept up his perfect image at all costs. You want to find out the details about him. Like how he enjoys his coffee or what colour he might like best.

You continue the drive in casual chatter like this before finally reaching your destination. As San pulls into an underground parking lot of an apartment building your heart rate quickens again. Something about seeing his apartment makes you incredibly nervous.

He tells you to wait inside the car after he lets the motor die down so that he can open the door for you again. Even this small gesture has you wrapped around his finger and you smile as you try to step out of the car as gracefully as you can.

San leads you into an elevator and as soon as the doors close you feel reminded of your first meeting. Of how he took your breath away just by standing next to you in such a small space. And now there isn't much difference. He still makes you just as nervous. But at least you can talk to him now.

"How is studying for your exams going so far?" He asks casually.

"It's okay," you reply lamely. "I'm trying my best."

"You know if you actually do need my help you can obviously ask me," he offers alluding to your deal of him basically just getting his own work done instead of tutoring you.

"You've already helped me so much. All I need to do now is actually study," you say turning down his argument.

You idiot, you think to yourself. You could've at least pretended to need his help.

You wait in silence as the remaining floors rush past you. You're surprised with every passing number, wondering what floor San might be living on. But the elevator doesn't stop until the highest floor.

San let's you exit first which makes no sense to you since you don't know where to go. So you wait for him to show you the way to his apartment.

As soon as he unlocks the door and leads you two inside you curiously scan his place. On a first glance it looks almost exactly like you expected: it's very clean and tidy, the furniture is modern and rather minimalistic and the whole place carries a simple colour theme of black and chrome with only hints of colour. The entrance leads straight into an open living room that connects to the kitchen.

"Make yourself at home at the dinner table," San offers while gesturing at the big, black table that looks like straight out of a design magazine.

You both place your shoes neatly at the entrance of his apartment before you take your bag to the table. As you choose a seat from which you can look outside the gigantic window front, San heads over to the kitchen, getting something from a cupboard.

"Can I get you a glass of water before I make some coffee?" He asks you with a kind smile.

"That would be nice," you answer even though water was not what you were craving right now.

He filled one for you and brought it over before returning to the kitchen. "You want your coffee hot or iced?"

"Iced? This is better service than at the company. You should forget to book the meeting room more often." It's a weak attempt at flirting with him but he laughs non the less.

"So iced it is?" He confirms with you again and turns on his electric coffee grinder after you nod approvingly.

It shouldn't captivate you that much, looking at him while he was performing such a basic task as making coffee. But you could watch him for hours, the way his broad back stretches out his dress shirt. The way he moves around so smoothly. The way the muscles in his arms flex as he handles his espresso machine.

You turn towards your study materials just in time before he faces you again, two iced coffees in his hands. He places one gently in front of you before he sits down opposite of you.

"Thank you," you smile at him extra sweetly.

"Anything you want, darling."

You swear to yourself that if he calls you darling one more time you will throw all rational thoughts out of the window and straddle him right here in his stupid designer living room chair. But for now you settle for a coy smile as you feel your cheeks heat up.

To add to your demise, as San drags his chair closer to the table both of your knees touch for a brief second before he casually changes his seating position. The table is narrower than the one in the meeting room and knowing that your legs are mere inches from another makes you even more delusional. What if he did that on purpose?

After that, all concentration for your studies is far gone. It doesn't help at all that the iced coffee he made you was the best you had in ages and with every sip you keep wondering what Choi San isn't good at.

I just know he fucks good there's no other way, you think to yourself but get interrupted in your thoughts.

"Are you stuck on something?" San asks you and you almost don't even dare to raise your eyes to look at him. A kind of shame overcomes you as you realize what you have been thinking about while he worries about your studies.

You sigh to buy yourself time to find an answer that doesn't include: Yes, I'm stuck because I can't think of anything but your body on top of mine.

"Yeah, I just can't seem to concentrate well lately. Maybe I'm stressed out because of my finals."

It isn't fully a lie. Your finals are approaching steadily and with you thirsting over your tutor instead of studying you are indeed starting to worry.

"I would love to tell you that grades don't matter too much but I know your mother won't agree and I will probably face her anger too if you fail," he laughs at the end of his sentence to lighten the mood but quickly notices he only stressed you more by saying that.

"I'm sorry," he quickly retracts. It feels like the first time you caught him messing up his smooth way of talking which in return makes you smile.

"No, you're right. I just never thought about the fact that she will hate both of us if I mess up. What a way to relax."

"I shouldn't have said that," San again apologizes. "I'm sure you will do amazing though. After all you studied so much."

He finishes his sentence with a wink and you must stare at him for a second like an idiot. Did you just imagine that? Or is he alluding to something? Does Choi San know that you thirsted for him this entire fucking time?

But his further actions don't allow you to think much more.

"You look quite tense actually," he continues. "You know it's not good for your back to sit stiff like this for a prolonged amount of time. Your neck must be hurting?"

You have no idea what he is talking about. And your confusion only grows as San gets up from his chair heading in your direction. Every step he comes closer to you has your heart pumping erratically. Even though you dreamed about him being closer to you and finally paying you more attention you are now paralysed at the situation unfolding. Simply being close to him renders your entire body useless.

San steps behind you and, to your absolute shock and amazement, his hands gently grasp your shoulders.

"To compensate the stress from university I took a physiology course that taught us how to massage tense muscles."

As if to proof his words his thumbs gently start rubbing circles into your neck. The warmth of his fingers seeps through your thin shirt and fills your entire body. It feels like he set you on fire with this simple touch.

All of this cannot be real. This must be a figment of your imagination or you actually fell asleep on your study notes while dreaming about San. But his voice sounds very much real when he resumes:

"You have to relax, otherwise I'll hurt you." His voice drops lower than usual and as he gently drapes your hair over one shoulder to get it out of his way you can feel his breath fanning over your neck. Goosebumps erupt all over your skin.

But amid the fire burning in your veins and your clouded mind you actually manage to ease into his fingers and allow him to loosen up your muscles.

"That's a good girl," he rasps behind you and you know you tipped over the edge now. There is no going back from this. You feel like a doll in his hands. His words are electrifying, leaving you unable to utter a single word, to make a single sound. Your mind is running on a state of emergency. Nothing seems to get to you but the fact that San is touching you.

And oh is he good at it. His hands are pressing into all the right places relieving all the pent up tension you built ever since getting ready for this meeting today. If his fingers are already this good at massaging out your stress you can't help but think about what else they can do.

"How do you feel?" He asks. His voice is still low and his tone taunting, as if he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Better," you answer. Your voice is merely a whisper. You sound weak, even in your own ears, and wonder if he even heard you.

"Yeah? Then how is this?" With his question his thumbs dip beneath the collar of your shirt and massage your upper back a little lower.

You can't help but close your eyes. The low tone of his voice, his fingers on your skin and the playfulness of his words. All of this is so overwhelming you can only lean back and revel in his touch.

"It feels so good," you manage to breath out when you realize he asked you a question.

He bends down a little, his mouth now right next to your ear. "Should I make you feel even better?"

He is quite literally the devil on your shoulder. Everything in your body screams for you to say yes immediately. The unspoken promise has your entire body on fire and you almost give in to your desire. But a tiny speck of reasonable thinking pulls you back into the dangerous territories you are moving in right now.

"What do you mean?" you ask carefully. You know that this is everything you wanted for the past few weeks but still you can't help being confused about his sudden change.

His left hand wanders from your back to your chin, tilting it to the side so you can look at him. The look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine. His pupils are dilated and he is looking at you like he is preying on you. The intensity is something you have never seen in him before.

"You are far too smart to be asking that question, darling," he replies smugly.

"But you were never interested in me?" You ask back and want to hit yourself on the spot. Why are you even asking questions when the man you've desired for weeks finally seems to be making a move on you? But after all he is acting very out of character.

San chuckles, never taking his eyes off of you. "You're so cute. All these weeks that you've been wanting me and now you ask what I'm doing?"

Your mouth opens in shock. So he did in fact know all this time that you were interested in him.

"Don't act all surprised now, darling. You really thought I didn't see the way you looked at me ever since we first met? How your eyes keep focusing on my arms in my tight shirts. How you steal glances at me when you think I'm not looking? I wanted to see how long I could leave you thirsting like this before you would break."

His confession has you gasping as you realize you weren't even faintly as indiscreet as you thought you were. Instead San was playing with you the entire time. Watching your every move.

"Desperation looks so cute on you," he adds with another devilish smile. His fingers continue drawing circles into your back as his burning eyes keep you fixed in your spot. You feel bewitched by his entire presence, like he has cast a spell on you.

"I made all this effort to get you into my apartment so we both don't have to risk our lives by having me ruin you on the meeting table and still you didn't even have a clue. I'm almost disappointed if you weren't so cute when you are surprised like this." A satisfied grin plays around his plump lips, as if he revelling in the taste of this sweet opportunity in his hands. "Now be a good girl for me and finally do what you've been wanting to do for weeks. Tell me you want me."

You haven't taken a single breath since he started talking and as a result your head feels dizzy. It takes a short moment before you can finally form the words that your head is screaming at you.

"Please," you whisper pathetically.

"Please what, darling?" San revels in the way you can barely speak.

"Please ruin me."

You can basically see the fire behind his eyes ignite as you speak those three words. His hand wanders to your cheek, grabbing it firmly. He takes his sweet time to let his thumb run over your bottom lip, eyes trailing after his own movement.

"With pleasure."

Finally, his lips press onto yours in a desperate kiss. They feel just as soft as they always looked to you, but he kisses you with a roughness that is almost contradictory. The combination is intoxicating. As you reciprocate the kiss, heat runs through your limbs in shockwaves.

Suddenly impatient, San interrupts the kiss to pull you up and out of the chair by your arms. Grabbing your waist he manhandles you onto the dinner table instead, lifting you onto the ledge as if it was nothing.

Your hands bury in his hair as both your lips meet again in a rushed embrace. In return, San wedges one of his legs between yours and spreads your knees so he can stand between them. The way he handles you makes heat pool in your core. San has a determination to his every move that makes you want to do whatever he could want from you.

One of his hands still tightly grasping your waist, the other winds in your hair as he deepens the kiss. When his tongue enters your mouth you arch your back wanting to diminish every centimetre between you two. Your head is dizzy, completely overwhelmed by his every touch.

San's firm hands are restless on your heated body. His fingers quickly find a way to shift under your shirt and his thumb draws circles into the bare skin of your stomach. Choi San feels like a drug. His touch just as intoxicating as you always dreamed it to be.

He removes his mouth from your lips only to latch onto the fragile skin behind your ears, kissing his way around your neck. You let your head fall back to give him better access and when he starts sucking on your skin you relieve a small whimper.

You can feel San smirking into your skin as he sucks even more. It's like he has found your weakness and is now shamelessly using it to make you melt beneath his fingers. And it's working so well. Your hands lose grip on his hair as you lose your ability to focus on anything but San's lips on your neck.

"Don't tap out on me already, darling. I'm only getting started," he rasps into your ear in between kisses. You draw in a shaky breath at his words. Your legs feel like jelly even as your sitting down and you just know you won't be able to walk after San is finished with you.

He finally withdraws his lips and for a second just revels in your already dishevelled form: hair messy, red flush to your cheeks and lips glossy from kissing him.

"I'd love to have you on my dinner table but let's take this somewhere more comfortable for now," he says in a soft voice.

Hooking his hands under your thighs he picks you up from the table, carrying you towards his bedroom. Woken up from your trance by the change of motion you suddenly gain back some of your bite. While San is busied with carrying you, your fingers rush to the collar of his dress shirt. Oh how often you have dreamed of popping open those buttons one by one. And finally you have the pleasure to do so. A soft chuckle makes his chest move in front of you as San looks down on your actions.

"You couldn't wait, could you?"

"Why would I?" you reply cheekily as your hand smooths over his now exposed skin. He feels so soft and hot under your fingertips that you don't think you'll ever be able to detach.

San throws open his bedroom door with his shoulder and before you have a chance to take in the room you are thrown onto the plush bed. He follows behind immediately, hovering over you with both hands propped up next to your head. He lets his eyes run over your figure lazily, up and down.

"Don't even know where to start with you," he mumbles half to himself and half to you as he watches your chest rise and fall in heavy breaths. He decides to put on a show, sitting back on his heels and slowly continuing your work in unbuttoning his shirt.

Apart from his skin being exposed the simple act of opening some buttons shouldn't drive you as crazy as it does right now. It's simply the sexiest thing you have ever seen in your life. The way his hooded eyes stay on yours the entire time while one button after another falls open under his practiced movements.

You are moving on autopilot when you also sit up to take off your own shirt. You simply can't delay this any further. As your shirt lands somewhere beside the bed, San lets out a small groan, surprising you. He stopped in the middle of folding down his sleeves.

"How did you know that purple was my favourite colour?" He asks in a raspy voice. His eyes are raking over your deep purple bra with a desire in them that lets shivers run over your skin.

You can't imagine a better way to find out his favourite colour. You only chose it because it accentuates your skin tone but now it feels like fate to you. Finally, you are getting to the edges of Choi San. Getting to know him on a level that you were craving like the air you needed to breath.

"Good intuition," you reply. Your confidence surges under his heavy glances. Maybe a little too much. "Need help with that?" you ask him teasingly with a nod towards his shirt, which hangs open around his toned torso.

As soon as you speak those words you are getting pinned back to the bed, San's hand suddenly wrapped around your neck. He isn't putting any pressure on it yet but you can feel his strength pulsating around your neck. His broad shoulders are taking up most of your vision and with the way he glares at you you just know that you are soaked.

"Don't get too bold with me, darling," he says in a warning tone. "I'm the one in charge."

You look up at him through big, round eyes, lashes fluttering because you have a feeling that it will push just the right buttons in him.

"Go ahead then," you reply firmly. "Do whatever you want to me."

San sits up again and roughly tugs on his sleeves, finally discarding his shirt fully. Then his lips are on yours again in a heartbeat.

You greedily let your hands wander over his now fully exposed upper body. The muscles playing under his skin feel so good as he buries his hands in your hair. His biceps is so big that your fingers can barely wrap around it halfway. You can't get enough of touching his body which so far you only admired in fitted dressing shirts.

San kisses his way down from your lips again but this time he doesn't stop at your neck. Continuing down your chest he kisses the tender skin between your breasts. When he takes both hands to squish your breasts together, burying his face in between, you lose your last bit of composure.

"Please, San. Please just fuck me."

He lifts his head to smile at you devilishly. The fire behind his eyes seems so bright that you're scared it will never burn down again.

"Already begging for me? You're still half dressed and I'm only starting. Have a little patience."

As he finishes his words, his hand snakes behind your back to open your bra in a swift motion. He peels the straps off of you with a new found patience that makes you feel like you are suffocating.

When the piece of clothing lands on the floor, San's eyes are glued to your chest. Slowly, he lowers himself down again, gently taking on of your nipples into his mouth. As soon as his tongue starts lapping at you a string of moans escape you. He just feels so good.

Without ever losing focus on kissing and nipping on your chest, one of his hands wanders to your skirt. He finds the zipper so easily it feels like he has studied undressing you. He pushes it down your legs quickly, leaving you only in your underwear.

As his hand starts stroking your inner thighs, your eyes roll to the back of your head. He feels like a dream.

"Please San. Please touch me," the words leave your mouth in whispers. Silent pleas for him to finally give you what you want.

"Is my darling so stressed from studying that she needs her mind taken off of things?" His fingers trail over your clothed heat as he asks you in a sickly sweet voice. His eyes are focussed on your face, taking in how you crumble beneath his touch.

"Yes. Yes, please," you whimper desperately. Every touch feels like electricity on your skin.

"Want me to stuff you full so you can forget everything you've studied for for weeks?" He pushes your panties to the side, his fingers toying at your entrance.

"Please San..." you repeat yourself weakly. Finally he gives into your pleading and sinks two of his fingers into you. You are so wet that they glide in with ease. You suck in a harsh breath as he begins pumping them in and out of you.

"God you feel so good. Can't wait to fuck you, my darling. Bury my cock so deep into you you forget your own name."

His words make you shake beneath him. You had a lot of suspicions about San in the bedroom due to your extensive daydreaming about him. But never did you expect him to be so vocal and downright dirty with his words. It catches you off-guard and only heightens your pleasure.

San scoots up on the bed a little so his face is hovering over yours again, while he slips a third finger into your heat. "How do I feel?" he asks with a raspy tone to his voice.

"You feel so fucking good, San," you moan in answer. His fingers stretch you out so deliciously and he reaches this spot deep inside you that makes you arch your back with every thrust.

"Yeah, you wanna come on my fingers?" he rasps into your ear now, lips again attaching to your neck, sucking deep marks into your skin.

"Please, San." You feel like a broken record that's repeating the same thing over and over. You grow closer and closer to an orgasm with every motion of his fingers inside you. But San has other plans for you. And when he feels you desperately clenching around his fingers, he pulls them out of you.

"I'm sorry darling," he says immediately, even though his face doesn't display any regret. "But you look so pretty when you're desperate. And I want you to come on my cock when I make you fall apart for the first time."

You feel like crying. You want nothing more but to come and yet him taking it from you only makes you want him more. You would do anything for Choi San.

He stands up from the bed and opens his belt. But before he can take of his pants, he orders you over with a motion of his finger. You sit on your knees at the edge of the bed in seconds, looking up at him expectantly.

He doesn't say a word and only gestures for his painfully strained pants. You don't need any more hints to start opening his pants and pulling them down his legs desperately. You hook your fingers into his boxers too but look up at him once more before continuing. When he nods at you you finally pull them down as well.

You can't help but stare at San's length. He's big, just like you had always imagined and he was rock-hard. When San takes himself into his hand and gives himself a few strokes you open your mouth on your own, sticking out your tongue in anticipation of tasting him.

San starts gently. His other hand weaves into your hair and he pulls you onto his length slowly. You are able to take a good amount of him before his tip hits the back of your throat and you release a surprised moan. San closes his eyes momentarily as he relishes in the feeling of your hot mouth around him.

"Shit, you feel so good," he rasps out before he starts thrusting in and out of your mouth. Your hands seek hold on his muscular thighs and you look up at San through big and pleading eyes. Even though he isn't pleasuring you, this almost feels as good as having him bury his fingers inside you. All you ever dreamed about was him using you just like this and the feeling of it happening is so intoxicating you feel like you might pass out any second.

"Look at you enjoying my cock so damn much, that your eyes are losing focus," San chuckles. He looks down at you in disbelief as you mindlessly swirl your tongue around his cock. "You love being ruined by me, don't you?"

You can only manage a desperate nod and approving grunt as you continue sucking him of. No man has ever made you this desperate. As you look at him from beneath you feel like you have accomplished everything you ever wanted: his hair was dishevelled, his breaths uneven and a red tint painted his cheeks. All in all, Choi San lost his perfectly maintained appearance as you sucked on his cock and to you he looked 100 times prettier this way.

When his thrusts go sloppy, he pulls out of your mouth in a haste before he can come. "You're driving me crazy, darling," he grunts as he catches his breath for a second. In a more gentle tone he resumes: "Lay back on the bed for me, ok?"

You do as he says, laying down on your back in the middle of the bed, your body buzzing with the anticipation of what is to come. San goes to his dresser, opening a drawer to get a condom.

When he climbs over you he looks at you intensely. But at the same time his eyes hold a softness that makes you feel secure.

"Are you sure about going on, y/n?" he asks warmly. No petnames this time. He wants a clear answer.

"Never been so sure in my life," you reply with a smile and his lips mirror yours as he beams down at you.

Quickly he sits up to open the condom and roll it onto his member. Opening your legs with his knee he situates himself between you and positions his cock at your entrance. One hand on your hip and the other holding his cock, he slowly sinks himself into you while carefully observing your face.

Your eyes flutter when he is fully inside of you and you moan at the feeling. San releases a grunt as well and waits a few seconds deep inside of you.

"Fuck, you're so tight for me, my darling. Don't worry I won't stop this time until you come." And with that he starts thrusting into you. He begins with slow and deep thrusts but as soon as you get used to his size he speeds up rapidly.

His abs are flexing underneath is skin as he grabs onto your hip and pistons himself into you. With every thrust you can feel him hit this spongy part deep inside of you that makes heat build in your core with a throbbing intensity. Meanwhile you revel in the sight above you: San looks like a god. His muscular body moving above you is almost enough to push you over the edge but what's even more entrancing is his face. His expressions seem almost possessed. Like a demon took over him as soon as he started fucking you, he fixes his eyes onto yours.

"Am I fucking you good? Making you forget all your precious studies?" There they are again. His filthy words driving you down a one-way-road to insanity. "I hope you forget everything so you have to see me even more, darling. Then I can keep on fucking this tight little cunt over and over again."

"Fuck, San!" you moan out, being shocked by his words. His control over you is baffling and you can't help but grow closer and closer to your orgasm with every word.

"I know you like me like that, darling. Do me a favour and come on my cock so I can finally see you lose yourself will you?"

You can't form an answer. Endless moans tumble out of your mouth in increasing volume and San knows he has you exactly where he wants.

"Come for me."

Your orgasm hits you with an explosive intensity. Faintly, you notice yourself moan at a concerning volume as your high washes over your body. But San doesn't seem to mind. Your legs are shaking and he helps you ride out the feeling with slower strokes. He waits for your breath to slow down again before he leans down to you and places a gentle kiss onto your lips.

"I want you on your knees in front of me," he says sweetly as soon as your lips separate and your head is spinning. Still you manage to get up with the help of his arm beneath your waist and you let yourself be positioned in front of San, your back to him.

Since you didn't have the opportunity to examine his bedroom earlier you only now notice the big mirror on his wardrobe next to his bed. Looking ahead, you can now see yourself on your knees, sitting in front of San.

You look even more dishevelled than you feel: Your hair is all over the place and some of your eyeliner smudged and a handful of dark purple marks littering your neck. Also, a red tint covers your skin, making you look flushed. San behind you smirks as you examine your own figure.

"You look so pretty all messed up like this for me, don't you think?"

His arm wraps around your waist as he leans your body back onto his broad chest. You look tiny in front of his build.

"I'll make you look even prettier," he promises as he sinks himself back into you.

He picks up his intense pace from before and you already feel dizzy again. With his arm holding you tight he is basically lifting you up and down his cock. At this angle he is hitting you deeper than before and you are sure you won't last very long until your next high.

But nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of San winding his other arm around you too, his fingers gently starting to stroke your clit. Your head falls back onto San's shoulder as you give in to the mind-numbing pleasure that starts buzzing through your body.

"Keep your eyes on me, darling. I want to watch you fall apart."

His voice sounds sulky, almost cute. It doesn't match his relentless thrusts and his fingers pleasuring you. It takes all your strength to lift your head again and look at San through the mirror. His eyes are hooded now, a shin layer of sweat making his flawless skin shine in the evening light.

"You make me feel so good," you manage to say as San keeps on pounding into you. You want him to know how he makes you feel. How good he is being to you.

"Am I?" He smiles in satisfaction as he watches your brows draw together with a particularly deep thrust. "You too, darling. You feel so good around me I don't think I can last much longer. But you'll come one more time for me, right?"

His voice sounds so deep and sultry in your ears. "Of course, Sannie," you mumble absent-mindedly. You don't even notice the nickname until he chuckles behind you.

"How can you be so cute and so sexy at the same time? You'll be the death of me, my good little girl."

He places a kiss onto your cheek and that is what finally drives you over the edge.

"Fuck, San. I'm coming," you moan out before your high crashes over you. If he wasn't holding you, you would fall to the ground. You try to hold eye contact with San through the reflection but your eyes keep on shutting as waves of pleasure roll over you. You have never felt such an intensity before.

But San's thrust don't slow down this time. He keeps on rutting into you relentlessly, driving you to insanity. You feel like you're swimming in a pool of pleasure.

"I'm close, darling. Just a little longer," San's voice is pitched higher than before, sounding just as desperate as you feel. You want nothing more but for him to come.

"Please, Sannie. I want you to come so bad."

Your desperate pleas are San's final straw. Clutching your body tight to his own, he finishes with his cock buried deep inside you. You can feel him pulsating in your heat and your moans mix into his grunts as you milk him for every last drop of his cum.

As you both slowly recover San pulls out of you and gently lays you back onto the bed. You can't do anything but catch your breath while he gets up to rid himself of the condom and return to you with a glass of water.

"Drink something," he urges you on and you take the glass from him. He watches you with a tinge of worry in his eyes. After taking a few sips you offer the glass back to him.

"You should drink some too, I'm sure you worked your body more than I did."

He smiles at your words and takes some water too before returning the glass to his bedside table. When he looks back at you there is a heaviness to his gaze that worries you.

"What is it?" you ask.

San takes a deep breath before answering you. "No matter what I said to you before, I actually didn't expect us to tumble into this as quickly as we did right now. And I want you to know that I didn't do this to use you or take any advantage of you."

His hand nervously grabs for the back of his neck. "Actually, I've been interested in you ever since we first met but I fear the tension between us was quicker than both of us."

You try to process his words even in your hazy state of mind. A spark of excitement surges through your body as you realize what he is saying.

"I feel the same, San," you reply truthfully. "I like you. And not just because you're insanely handsome."

You are glad when he laughs shyly at your words.

"So maybe I can take you out on a date that doesn't involve work or pharmacy studies sometime?"

"I hope sometime means this week, because I waited long enough for you already."

After everything that happened this evening, this moment when he smiles at you might be what makes your heart beat the fastest. You can't believe your luck as you look Choi San into the eyes and he leans in for a kiss.

-----------------

"This was a stupid idea," you say to San but maybe more to yourself. "I should tell her alone."

"How will she ever respect me again if I let you do this alone?" San replies worriedly. "She told me to tutor you and now here we are. I will look terrible either way."

You have never seen him this nervous. But after all, your mother has the ability to make everybody scared for their life. You two pass her assistant's desk with a polite greeting as you head straight for your mother's office. She knows you are coming but she doesn't know you're bringing company.

You knock carefully on the door until her voice calls you in. Your mother stays seated as you two enter the room. She doesn't look surprised or confused about San's appearance but rather intrigued.

"Why are you visiting me today, y/n?" she asks simply.

Your heart is beating out of your chest as you prepare for answering.

"I have something to announce to you," you start off as confident as you can.

Your mother's eyes flick between you and San. "Go on."

"San- ... Mr. Choi and I, we are..." your voice is shaking. Why is this so hard for you?

But San grabs for your hand, linking his fingers with yours as he confidently finishes your sentence: "We are in a relationship, director Kim."

His boldness strikes you as admiring. Maybe he was right about accompanying you.

A silence that draws out unbearably long fills the room. You feel like your lungs are being compressed with every passing second.

Then your mother smiles. It's not exactly a smile of happiness. It speaks more of victory.

"Finally," she announced. "It took you two longer than I expected."

Now it's your turn to be silent. Both you and San are stunned in your places.

Finally you find your voice to ask: "What do you mean, mom?"

She smiles at you in satisfaction.

"You see: Mr. Choi is a good man. He's a gentleman, treats his colleagues with the utmost respect, excels at his job and is handsome too. How could I find a better match for my beloved daughter? But I know you wouldn't be interested if I were to formerly introduce you two so I thought I'd help you in a different way."

Your mouth falls open in shock. Out of all things, your mother purposefully setting you up with San has never even crossed your mind. Your boyfriend seems even more shocked at the revelation than you, his face reddened and a stunned expression on his face.

"So you set us two up?" You finally ask your mother.

"Of course I did! And it worked out brilliantly, don't you think? I'm glad you both came to tell me. Mr. Choi?"

San perks up at her words. "Yes?"

"I assume you will take good care of my daughter?"

"Of course I will," he replies sternly, voice full of sincerity. "I will do everything care for y/n." His words make you feel warm and fuzzy.

Your mother nods approvingly. "Then you two may leave. I still have work to do."

You both nod hastily and thank your mother before turning back for the door.

"Oh, before I forget. Y/n?" your mother asks one last time.

"Yes?"

"I received your test results that you sent me. They look very promising."

I hope you enjoyed <3 Pls reblog and leave feedback if you can :)

Tags: @voicesinmyhead-rc

#ateez x reader #ateez fic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #beginningofwonderland #smut fanfic #ateez fanfiction #san smut #san x y/n #san x reader #san fanfic #san x you

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mantou-rin · 5 months ago

Text

The moment the boys realise they are head over heels for you

Characters: Kenma, Sugawara, Yaku

A/N: The amount of things I am able to come up with while at work should be studied. As usual not proofread I am sorry but I hope you like the silly thoughts that go through my head on a daily basis.

KENMA

Kenma couldn't help but look up from his game to stare at you.

You were at the other end of the classroom talking with a few of your classmates. Your voice wasn't exactly loud, but your presence was more than enough to catch his attention. Kenma admired the way you spoke and the way your face lit up everytime someone said something interesting. You weren't exactly an extrovert, but you had a bubbly and bright personality, and often got along well with pretty much anyone.

Kenma kind of envied you for that. Not that he was the kind to draw attention to himself, but being able to comfortably talk with people sometimes seemed nice.

From the corner of your eye, you caught sight of him looking at you, and you turned to give him a smile while waving towards him. He instantly panicked, and quickly turned his attention back to his game console, trying his best to calm his rapidly beating heart.

He wasn't sure for the longest time about this feeling he had towards you. Was it fascination or just admiration, or was it something more than that. To him, you seemed so interesting, almost as if he wanted to study - no, get to know you better. His racing heart finally confirmed it as a crush, but how does he even begin to ask you out?

“Kenma”

He nearly jumped when he heard that familiar voice of yours. Slowly he put down his console and directed his attention to you. You were standing next to his desk, the sunlight hitting your face gave you the prettiest glow he had ever seen.

It was real, he wanted to get closer to you, he wanted to understand everything about you.

“There's a new cat cafe that just opened, would you like to go there together? I hope you don't mind that it'll just be the two of us.”

Two of us? Did he hear that correctly? Of course he wouldn't mind, if anything he was more than happy that it was just the two of you.

“Mhm.” Came his silent reply, to which you happily told him that you’ll message him the details when you get home.

Turns out that your feelings for him were mutual as well.

SUGAWARA

Suga was not having a good day right now. He felt he didn't do a great job at practice just now and now he couldn't get rid of the constant worry that his team would be disappointed in him. For the most part, he knew the Karasuno boys would never be upset with him, but what if today it was different.

Before he left just now, Daichi had already told him to cheer up and not think about it, but he just couldn't help himself. He wished he wasn't the kind to mull over his mistakes over and over, but unfortunately, he wasn't that kind of person.

He really wanted to call you right now. He often told you how you were his comfort after a long day, and he felt that he really needed you today. He was about to make the call when he realised that you told him that you were going out to run some errands that night.

Right. It wasn't polite to disturb someone when they were busy. Suga figured to simply drop you a text instead, the both of you could talk about it later tonight.

Sighing, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and looked up at the sky. It was so quiet and calm, contrary to whatever his mind was right now - noisy and chaotic.

“Suga!” He heard someone call from behind him.

Hang on. That voice was familiar, one that he has heard many times, there was no way it was -

You.

Suga wasn't sure why he nearly cried when he saw you, heck he wasn't even sure why you suddenly showed up.

“Sorry if I’m a little late, but I saw your message and figured that I should come right away. Also sorry I couldn't get something better, but I got you some ice cream from the convenience store on the way here.”

Suga panicked a little, he worried that his message to you came off as something that needed immediate attention, that wasn't what he intended for it to be, although now that he saw you the chaos that was in his mind just now seemed to have died down.

“Eh, I thought you had to run errands? Sorry if I bothered you.”

“I can always go another day, besides, you having a bad day is something more important than the groceries I have to buy.”

Suga wasn't aware, but he was sure he let a tear slip out of his eye when he felt your hands reaching towards him to wipe them away. He never noticed because he was always the one doing the comforting, but right now with you next to him assuring him that everything was going to be alright, his mind became a reflection of the night sky - calm and quiet.

“I'll go run your errands with you tomorrow, and will you allow me to bring you out for dinner afterwards?”

YAKU

Yaku was glad you decided to join the volleyball team as a manager. Even though the two of you were childhood friends (and neighbours), any extra minute he got to spend with you meant a lot to him.

You were attentive and smart, always promptly taking care of the team’s needs and giving out advice as needed. Your presence alone sometimes helped boost the team’s morale.

Water was running low? You had already prepared new bottles for the boys long ago before they even noticed they were running out.

There was a spot on the court that seemed a little slippery? The next thing Yaku knew you were ready to swoop in with the mop to clean it up.

The team needed extra balls for practice? There was nothing to worry about because you would have a new basket of volleyballs ready by the side.

You were talking to Yaku halfway after practice when you excused yourself to find the coach for something. Yaku couldn't help but glance over at the extra bag he had seen you carrying around recently. You happened to leave it open, and Yaku caught sight of a pair of knee guards - specifically the ones he was using. Yaku didn't want to peek, but he was too curious as to why you had that in your bag. He pried the bag open slightly and saw a towel as well as a pouch filled with first aid supplies.

Perhaps you were playing volleyball too?

When you came back, Yaku asked if you started playing volleyball too, referencing the items he saw in your bag.

“Ah, no it's just emergency stuff in case you get injured. I've seen you getting many new bruises because of practice so I wanted to be ready just in case.” You replied softly, slightly embarrassed by the fact that you had been found out.

Yaku felt his heart do about a thousand backflips. He was always under the impression that you cared for each team member equally, but now knowing that you put in a little more effort to look out for him made him somewhat flustered.

“Ah, thank you.” Was the only thing he could splutter out.

There was a brief silence before he mustered up his courage to speak again.

“Would you like to go get dinner together after practice tomorrow?”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #kozume kenma #kenma x reader #sugawara koushi #sugawara x reader #yaku morisuke #yaku x reader

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kittykattysstuff · 7 months ago

Text

When mom's away, it's time to play!

Warning: Stepcest.

Stepdad!Toji x fem!Reader

WC: 2.2K

Summary: Your mother won't be home during the weekend due to a business trip. With her gone and the entire house to yourselves, you and your stepdad Toji get to know each other in more intimate ways.

"Bye, dear. I'll be back Monday morning." Your mom gave you a kiss on the cheek as she left the house.

"Keep Toji some company, will you? This can be a great opportunity for you two to have some father-daughter bonding time."

She smiled, giving Toji a peck before she climbed into the driver's seat of her car. You gulped. Sometimes you wondered if your mother was either too oblivious to notice the furtive glances Toji threw your way whenever you were in the same room, or if she actually noticed them, and simply didn't care, confusing his inappropriate behavior for affection.

Well, it didn't matter what your mom thought. Her opinions wouldn't change the fact that you would be spending the whole weekend alone with Toji.

"Don't worry, love. I'm sure Y/N and I will have a lot of fun together."

You pretended not to notice the sexual innuendo behind your stepdad's words. God, this was going to be a long weekend. You and Toji waved as your mom started the car and drove away.

"Finally home alone. "Toji smirked, following you inside the house. You didn't need to turn to know he was shamelessly checking your ass. "Any plans for the weekend?"

He asked before you walked up the stairs to your room.

"Not really." You shrugged. You were more than ready to get this talk done and over with, but it seemed like Toji wouldn't let you off so easily.

"I intend to study for my upcoming exams."

That was a lie and Toji knew it. He knew you had already finished all your exams and didn't have any more classes until the next semester, since your mother had told him before you arrived from college at the beginning of the week.

"That's lame. Even Megumi's going to his friends' house. You should live a little, doll. How about we follow your mom's suggestion and have some father-daughter bonding?"

Toji's smile was so sweet, you could almost mistake him for an angel if you didn't know him. However, you did know him, and you knew that behind that sweet smile, were actually the most evil intentions. You felt yourself getting hot. You didn't want to admit it, but ever since you met Toji Fushiguro, you felt attracted to the man. His broad shoulders, thick thighs, and captivating emerald eyes made him look like a Greek god.

"Well, what do you have in mind?"

Against your better judgment, you indulged in his ideas.

"We could binge watch some of those rom-com movies that you like so much."

"You? Watching "girly" movies?" You asked, quoting the way he always complained about the films you and your mom liked to watch.

"Anything for you, doll."

Oh, you were definitely screwed. It took all your willpower not to jump him right then and there. Instead, you found yourself agreeing to his offer.

"Sure, why not."

Two hours later, the credits of "10 things I hate about you" appeared on the TV screen.

"This one wasn't so bad."

Your stepdad commented, stretching his huge arms, which were conveniently bare, given he was wearing a tight black tank top. You watched him put an arm on the back of the couch, getting dangerously close to you as he adjusted in a more comfortable position.

You were starting to seriously regret your choices today. You'd been doing a decent enough of a job trying to avoid Toji ever since he and your mom got married, almost one year ago. Because as soon as he stepped into your home in all his glory when they were still dating, two years ago, you knew you were in trouble.

The man was literally sex on legs, all your teenage dreams personified right in front of you, and the worst part is, he knew the effect he had on you. He knew it and he purposely took every chance he had to get closer to you; from accidental touches that started to linger more each time you both were in the same vicinity, to the hungry looks he sent you, not even trying to hide them.

You thought that once Toji and your mom got married, things would stop. But it was quite the opposite. Taking advantage of the fact you wouldn't be able to actively avoid him, since Toji and Megumi moved in with you and your mom after the wedding, Toji was everywhere. And he was driving you insane.

Your only solace was college. Your college was considerably far from your home, so as soon as you were accepted, you opted to live on campus rather than commute back home. The reprieve was great, especially because now you could be alone with your thoughts, without your step dad's presence everywhere you turned. If you didn't see nor think about Toji, then you were safe from the ever growing attraction between you.

However, now that the semester had finished and you wouldn't have classes for three weeks, your feelings were more and more difficult to ignore. Especially now that it was only the two of you in the house.

"What's next?"

Your step dad asked, though he didn't really seem interested in the answer whatsoever.

"Legally Blonde." You replied, selecting the next movie.

For the most part, things were going well. You were so concentrated on the film that you almost forgot about Toji's presence. That is, until his hand started to softly caress your shoulder. You held your breath as your step dad started rubbing circles on your skin delicately.

In hindsight, you know you should've stopped him instantly. But you were tired, Toji's touch was warm and honestly, you were craving some affection lately. So yeah, you let him touch you. After all, parents and their children touched all the time, that was normal, you rationalized. Except, there was nothing innocent in the way your step dad was getting closer to you.

His hand was now on your hips, massaging them expertly. You could feel his thigh pressed to yours. Before you noticed, a low moan fell from your lips. From your peripheral, you could see your step dad smirking.

"You're so far from me. Come closer, angel, I won't bite."

He didn't expect an answer from you, already pushing you to sit on his lap.

"This okay?"

Toji asked, his chin on your shoulder, his hot breath on your neck. You moaned again.

"Yes." You managed to say in a whisper.

"Y'know, this movie's getting boring, dontcha think?"

Toji said before sucking on your shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat.

"Toji, we shouldn't..."

"You don't know how long I've been waiting to touch you, doll."

Before you could protest, Toji captured your lips, giving you a bruising, passionate kiss. You opened your mouth, and he wasted no time to shove his tongue down your throat. He nibbled your lower lip with deliberate boldness, hearing a soft moan of pleasure in response, making his arousal sensually painful. As you kissed, Toji wanted to drink in your moans in sweet tremors of sinful pleasure.

Toji and you separated briefly, his sharp gaze locked on yours as you both struggled to regain you breath. Before things could get even more physical, he pressed his forehead to yours, inhaling deeply. You caressed his soft dak locks, reveling in the texture against your fingers. For a man as big as he was, Toji could be surprisingly endearing when he wanted to.

"Do you want this?" He finally asked, moving so that you'd be able to see each other in the dark room illuminated only by the dim light of the TV.

"If you say yes, I won't be able to hold back."

You knew that if you went further than this, there was no going back. You nodded, smiling. You had made your decision. You had wanted him for so long, you wouldn't miss the chance of having him all to yourself.

"I do, Toji. Fuck me."

"Damn. You're gonna drive me crazy."

Toji didn't waste time, ripping off your white buttoned shirt and your tight shorts to reveal your underwear.

"So perfect." He muttered as he unclasped your bra, immediately latching his mouth on your nipple, while he played with the other.

"All for me."

He said reverently, before sucking hardly, which elicited a gasp from you due to all the pleasure he was giving you. You kept your hands on his hair, in a tight grip. Toji's mouth and his finger kneading your tits felt magical.

"Yes, daddy, l'm all yours."

You didn't even notice what you had said until Toji stilled his movements, looking at you like a hawk. Instantly, you felt self-conscious, a blush on your cheeks as you mistook his sudden halt in his movements for rejection.

"Fuck."

Toji mumbled, licking his lips and watching you with a lust-filled gaze.

"Say that again."

Your shyness gave way to pure pleasure, the carnal desire consuming the two of you.

"Daddy."

You repeated, feeling his arousal as his dick twitched. Your step dad looked an animal, his expression was so filthy you almost came on the spot. He changed positions, laying you down on the couch, his firm, muscular chest pressing against your body.

You took his black tank top off, and kissed every inch of skin you could find. His shoulder blades, his abdomen, his chest, everywhere. Toji moaned, fueling you to continue.

"I know you're eager to play, baby, but I can't wait."

Toji took your hands off his body as gently as he could. Understanding what he meant, you moved your hands to his pants, ubuttoning his leather belt. Toji wriggled out of the fabric of clothing, throwing it away haphazardly. You could see the white patch of precum in his black boxers.

"I've dreamed about fucking your tight little pussy for so long, you've no idea."

Toji kept muttering as he got rid of the rest of yours and his underwear, the last remaining clothing between you two.

"Whenever I fuck your mom, I imagine you. I have to keep myself from moaning your name".

"Daddy, please, I need you."

"You want daddy's cock, little girl? Don't worry, daddy's gonna make you feel so good you won't want any other dick anymore."

"Yes, daddy, please, I need you so badly! Fuck, me daddy!"

Your stepdad kissed you again as he entered you without warning, giving you no time to adjust to his size. Toji sucked your mouth, bit your lips, swallowed your taste as if it were the last kiss he would give in his life. The kiss made you forget the slight discomfort you felt when he first penetrated you.

Toji buried himself to the hilt inside you, making you moan loudly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, so that he could reach even deeper.

"So tight. Perfect little pussy, was made for me."

"Only yours, daddy."

The position allowed him to explore all the curves of your body as he moved frenetically inside you. God, he was amazing. You couldn't fathom why you tried to resist your stepdad in the first place. Now that you had a taste, you would certainly become addicted.

You pressed your hands on his taut abdomen, feeling his strong chest, buffy arms and prominent collarbone. Holy shit, his body was a masterpiece. You moved in sync, lost in the pleasure of the skin to skin contact. Toji started rubbing his fingers over your clit, sending you over the edge.

"D-daddy, I'm close."

You mumbled, breathing heavily.

"Cum, baby. Let it all out for daddy."

You felt all the tension explode from your nerves, relaxing all your muscles at once and clouding your mind in the most genuine relieved ecstasy.

"Will you let daddy cum inside you baby?"

"Yes daddy, please! Cum inside me, need you!"

"Fuck!"

Your words made Toji cum inside you in full force, your insides creaming his cock deliciously. Toji pulled you to his side, letting you lay on top of him.

"That was amazing."

You smiled, turning your head and resting your chin on his chest. He smiled back at you, stroking your cheeks lovingly. You leaned on his touch, letting yourself enjoy this rare soft side of his, knowing that this could very well be the first and last time you two were so intimate.

"Well, I'm glad. Now stand up."

He urged you, leaning forward on his elbows and creating some distance between you. You tried to hide your disappointment with a fake smile. That was the problem. You held back so much because you knew that when you caved, you wouldn't wanna let him go. Swallowing, you reminded yourself that it was only natural. After all, he wasn't yours to begin with. He was your mother's. Putting on a brave face, you finally stood up, gathering your clothes and attempting to cover your body the best you could. Before you could stray too far, however, you felt a tug in your hand.

"What is it, Toji?"

You asked, feeling irritated. He told you to go, but still kept bothering you. Classic Toji.

"Hey, I thought it was daddy. And where do you think you're going? I was gonna ask you to take a bath. It's only the beginning of the weekend, darling, we still have lots of time for father-daughter bonding moments. And I intend to enjoy it as much as I can."

#toji fushigro x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #fushiguro toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk smut #toji fushiguro smut #soft toji #soft toji fushiguro #smut

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sweetbans29 · 6 months ago

Text

Private - PB

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader

Summary: HC of you and Paige keep to yourselves, or at least try to (based on THIS request)

Warnings: Fluff, minorly suggestive at the end

Word Count: 2.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: This is my first time trying out HCs but I felt like it would work with this. Let me know what you think!

You and Paige met when you both went to UConn. She was the star of the basketball team and you were just starting in their med program, studying sports medicine. During your freshman year, you got placed with the women's basketball team for your first year internship and it was the best thing that could have happened.

You connected immediately with the team and they treated you like one of their own. It wasn't hard as you saw most of the girls every practice as they came in to get taped. You also traveled with the team as much as you could and would be insanely bummed when you couldn't make it to an away game with them - which wasn't frequent.

There was one time during the season when you couldn't make it to the Huskies game and the team made sure you knew how much you were missed.

"You guys are going to do great," you say as Paige Facetimed you before the game. "You don't need me there every time." "You know that isn't true, we need you here every game - you are the only one who knows exactly what we need," Paige says as if it were fact. You hear someone in the background yell, 'Exactly what Paige needs'. You laugh and look at the girl on the screen move to push someone out of frame. When she comes back into the frame you just smile. "P, I have shown you like 5 times how you like to be taped, just make sure it is secure and you will be fine." You say taking a bite of your bagel. "Plus, you know I am going to watch the game and cheering you all on." "But what if I get a cramp and need someone to roll it out? Or if my tape comes undone and I need it to be taped in like 5 seconds?" Paige is trying to make up any situation to get you to be there - not that it was possible at this point. The team was in Indiana and you were in Connecticut. "Paige, neither of those scenarios has ever happened." You say shaking your head with a smile. "You will be fine without me, I promise." "I just want you here," Paige says in almost a whisper. "I'll see you in no time," you say and hear Geno call for the team. You quickly say your goodbyes as you tell her to go dominate. Paige hangs up smiling. You never wished her good luck and when she finally asked about it you told her it was because she didn't need luck because she was unstoppable.

To everyone's surprise, you were the one to ask Paige out. It sort of caught Paige off-guard since she was typically the one to initiate any sort of relationship (or situationship). It wasn't anything grand or special, at least that's what you thought. It was after practice one day and completely out of the blue.

Paige was sitting in the recovery room when you walked in. "How you feeling P?" You ask as you put down all your stuff and make your way to the girl. "A little tight but I've been worse," she says watching you come up to her. "How are your knees doing?" You ask coming over and putting your hands on her, moving them side to side. "They are doing good," Paige says as she lets you bend her legs any which way you want. You have her lay down as you begin to stretch out the girl in front of you. "Thursday night," you say. "You busy?" You ask knowing that the team has an early practice leaving the team free that evening, from practice at least. "No, I don't think I have anything," Paige says. "Should probably work on this project but don't know." "You can do the project over the weekend, we are going out Thursday night." You say nonchalantly. "Going out? Like the teams going out?" Paige asks. "No. Just you and me babe, I'm taking you on a date." You say which causes Paige to shoot up. She just looks at you with wide eyes and burning cheeks. After the initial shock settles, she nods. "Not what you were expecting huh?" You ask the blonde, the confidence you spoke with was captivating her. She smiles at you and laughs, laying back down. She was speechless.

The two of you started dating and it had been better than either of you expected. Paige was learning that she could have a mutual in a relationship and she honestly really enjoyed it. It wasn't always on her to plan things or carve out time for the two of you, it changed her perspective on what a relationship could be You on the other hand learned how to care for someone who rarely lets others care for her. It had been a learning experience for both of you which is why you both decided it would be best to keep the relationship within the team - not posting about it anywhere.

The two of you really enjoyed keeping the relationship within your circle. Everyone was already so involved in the media that having something that was sacred to just you two and trusted people was rare. It wasn't too hard to do since you were already with the team so much and everyone knew you as the team mom (even though you weren't a fan when they called you that).

The team respected your decision to keep your relationship private would always let you know when they were going live and would continue to make it known if Paige decided to come in. There were too many close calls when the girls were live.

Paige was 100% a physical touch girl. She always wanted some part of her body on yours (which is why the team always has to announce any time they are live and or filming). Everyone knew how physical Paige could be - it never bugged you when you saw her with her team. It was typically when other people were touchy with you, that it bugged her. She knew your job was wrapping people and involved you getting physical with players but when they started putting hands on her girl - that's when she had an issue.

"Hey babe, will you do this TikTok trend with me?" Paige asks. Usually it was one of the other girls on the team asking if you wanted to jump in on TikTok video so you didn't think much of Paige asking. "Of course," you say. "What were you thinking?" "Well, there is this cute one," your girl begins, shifting a little signaling she is nervous. "It is the one where we show our matching outfits throughout the week." It takes a second for you to process what she says. "Isn't that a couples trend?" You ask, a grin sneaking its way to the corner of your lips. "Maybeeee," Paige says. "I mean only if you want to," she says looking at you. You take a second to think about it. You have really enjoyed your time with Paige without the world knowing. It's been like 8 months at this point and you know that it won't stay like this forever. "Okay, I'm down." You say and your girl gets super excited. She comes over and jumps on your back, wrapping her arms and legs around you while kissing your neck. You just laugh at how excited she is.

You love watching Paige's process when filming any sort of video. It was clear that she had thought this one out and it didn't take much as the two of you typically matched anyway. She told you it would start on Monday and over the next few days the two of you took cute little videos of the two of you matching. The second Paige posted the first video, there were immediate comments asking if the two of you were dating. You thought it would be fun to just let it all ride out which Paige didn't contest.

It was the last video where you thought it would be fun to leave an even bigger hint and at the very end of the video, laced your fingers with Paige's and kissed her on the cheek, letting it linger a little longer than usual. When you pull away you can see the pink tint on your girlfriend's cheeks and that little smile that drives you crazy. Seeing her look as adorable as she is you lean into her in a side hug, ending the video.

The two of you go about your day only realizing how much attention her video got when one of her teammates showed you two the 2 million views it had received.

"Well, guess they don't need to announce when they're going live anymore," Paige says. You smile and lean over to kiss her. Paige isn't satisfied with the peck you initialed and pulls you immediately back into her, wrapping her arm around your waist and kissing you with a little more heat. "Okay, okay, okay," Evina says, playfully rolling her eyes. "We get it, the two of you are in love and now the world knows but that doesn't mean you need to ramp up the PDA." "Sorry," you say blushing and pulling away from your girl, who isn't ready to let you go. She spins you around and wraps her arms around your neck, letting you join the conversation with the team but not leaving her arms.

From then on the two of you loosened up when it came to the team lives. It was at least once a live that someone in the chat would call out something you and Paige were doing. The very first one felt a little weird - everyone was in the gym and the girls were just messing around in a pickup game when you walked in. Paige at the next break ran over to you, picking you up and spinning you around causing a roaring laugh to come from you. The chat goes crazy and asks to see you and Paige together which the other girls acknowledge but don't give in to the request. You just smile at your girl as she puts you down.

The little moments don't end there. The next one came when they were filming a TikTok dance that you walked in on mid-dance. You drop your stuff and walk over to Paige hugging her torso from behind, causing her to stop the dance and stand there like a little kid. Her arms come on top of yours and you just sway her back and forth while the other girls finish the dance. You know there are going to be countless comments but you don't care.

Another time is when the girls are all in Paige's apartment filming some sort of cooking video. The way the phone is positioned on the stove gives the best view of the kitchen and also the living room. You are sitting on the ottoman doing some homework and are only seen in the video when one of the girls moves to expose you in the bottom corner. It is halfway through the live that one of the girls sends Paige away for messing something up. She makes her way to you and begins running her hands through your hair, starting to massage your scalp. It is only seen for a second but the chat goes crazy as always.

"Mmmm feels so good," you say as Paige's fingers make their way through your hair. "Never stop." Paige laughs and begins massaging your scalp. "Oh my God, you are an angel." You tell your girlfriend. Your eyes are closed and you can't help but moan at how good it feels. Paige leans over and begins to whisper in your ear, "If you keep moaning like that we are going to have a real issue on our hands." You just sigh, not really listening then letting out another moan. "Babe, they are still on the live." Paige says. "If you keep making those noises, the whole world is going to see way more of you than either of us wants." Paige then kisses your neck. You nod and sigh again. "Fine, but you are giving me a full massage once everyone leaves." You say looking up at your girl. "Of course babe, anything for you," she says leaning down and kissing you on the forehead.

AN: I kind of like the whole HC setup. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for all of your love and support 💙

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers concepts #paige bueckers imagine #paige bueckers masterlist #uconn wbb

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criticallyacclaimedstranger · 2 months ago

Text

You Need Only Ask [professor!Marcus Pike x librarian!reader]

Read on Ao3

Pairing: History of Art professor Marcus Pike x art library reader/you (cishet female)

Tags/Warnings: Kind of pining idiots but only one is pining, everyone is being professional but it's clear that Marcus is a pining idiot, implied coworkers to lovers.

Summary: Professor Marcus Pike is one of those cliché absent-minded professors - or so you think, but maybe there's another reason why this brilliant academic is acting a dumb fool around you?

Words: 3,534

A/N: This was inspired by an ask sent to me by @just-here-for-the-moment for a fic ask game thingy. Here's the original ask and my reply. I didn't write it exactly like that (main difference is my fic is set in modern times), but I hope y'all still like it!

”Good morning.”

Your customer service smile in place, you look over your shoulder.

”Morning, Professor. Just give me a second and I will be right with you.”

He hums, and you turn back to the bookcase where you were just about to finish re-shelving returns. Once done, you join Marcus Pike, Professor of Art History, at the desk. He’s tapping his fingers, almost impercievably, against the surface of the old solid wood desk, and you stifle a sigh. He didn’t have to wait that long.

”What can I do for you?” you ask politely. Professor Pike is never rude, but he is the typical professor type: absent-minded, a little awkward, his research always the number one priority.

“I looked for this book in the online catalog, but as I suspected, you don’t have it. It’s probably sold out, too.” He gives you a piece of paper before both his hands disappear into his pockets.

“Another inter-library loan, then?” you state, looking at the title. It’s in French, and you know immediately that your library doesn’t have it. Professor Pike is not the most computer-skilled person, so you usually double-check every book he asks for in the database, but this one you know you don’t have.

“Might have to go international for this one,” you tell him. “Canada och Europe. That’s coming out of your department’s budget, you know that.”

“I’ll make room,” he shrugs, looking towards the door, like he can’t wait to get back to the comfort of his own office. “And could you please give me more time with the last one you got for me? I need it for a bit longer.”

“I’ll contact the lending library,” you nod. “I’ll let you know.”

“Great. Thank you.”

The “Sure thing” has barely left your mouth before Pike is out the door, the sound of his steps against the stone floor quickly disappearing down the hall. You shake your head before sitting down to look up the book for him.

As you work, you once again wonder how people like Marcus Pike get jobs at all. Someone as introverted as that would never have a real shot at getting a library job, which requires people skills, patience, and the ability to stand in front of people. But when it comes to academia, it seems like all you need is credentials and a good research profile, and you’re hired. Unlike you, who had to fight tooth and nail for this position. You have Master’s degrees in art and library science, educational and language studies, job experience, and it was still almost impossible to get this job. People who have these jobs never seem to retire but just sit there, year after year, until they eventually sprout roots that fasten them to their chairs.

But you’re here now, since five years, and while Pike’s predecessor never showed his face in the library but sometimes sent you cryptical emails requests that took you half a day to decipher, it’s nice to see that the much younger professor actually frequents the university’s special arts library.

Finally locating Pike’s book in a university library in France, you quickly find the instructions for ILL’s, and send a loan request. After that, you apply for more time for Pike’s previous book, and by afternoon, you have confirmation for both books: one will be mailed out later during the day in Europe, the other has been renewed. You let Pike know through an email, before performing closing duties in the library. Your computer pings just as you’re about to turn it off, and you see that it’s a reply from Pike. Clicking it up, you see the very unlikely response:

>>Amazing, what a service. Just bill the department, I’ve got it covered. Thank you so much 😊 <<

Shaking your head in disbelief at the informal tone, you turn off the computer, clock out, and go home.

Professor Pike is back two days later, now asking for a book that’s available. When you tell him so, he clears his throat, gaze flickering away from you.

“Could you maybe show me where it is?”

“Sure.” You’re curt, because this isn’t the first time. It’s an easy enough book to find, and every item in the library is labeled, and the database even has an interactive feature where you can click on the item’s call number to open up a layout of the stacks, showing the correct shelf in red. It has freed you up a lot now that most patrons can easily find their literature themselves, but some people just want you to do everything for them.

“You know, Professor, you could maybe my start of term library tour useful,” you dare to tease him as you walk before him to the right case. “Most freshmen find it very helpful, and they can usually manage their own information retrieval after.”

“I think maybe a little touch-up course would do me good,” he replies, voice a little tight. “But I like personal service.”

You find the book, pull it out, and hand it to him.

“That’s what I’m here for,” you tell him easily. “Anything else I can do for you?”

He swallows visibly.

“No, thank you.”

He uses the self check-out this time, and leaves quickly without saying goodbye. You shake your head, and catch the eye of Mandy, a Master’s student who works on her thesis in the library almost every day.

“Strange fellow, that one, isn’t he?”

She gives you a peculiar look. “I guess so.”

One thing that you appreciate a lot about your job is the building itself. The campus was built in Collegiate Gothic style in the middle of the 19th century, and compared to the nearby city library with its white surfaces, glass walls, and modern design furniture, the much quieter arts library still seems more alive. The library houses more books than one would think when first seeing it, and it has the charming nooks and crannies that are so common for old houses.

You’re standing in one of those nooks one day; an alcove that houses folios, a cart of tall books parked next to the step stool that you’re standing on. You hear someone enter the library, shout out a “Hello!” as you usually do to let patrons know that you’re in the stacks, and receive a low answer. Mindful not to hurt your wrists, you pick up another folio from the cart, and put it back in its place.

The sound of footsteps stops at the desk, and you pick up the next book.

“Be right with you!”

The patron moves again, slowly walking towards the corner where you are, as if looking for you. You turn your head just as you see Professor Pike come around the corner of a bookcase.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “There you are.”

“Here I am,” you nod, picking up the next book. “Almost done.”

“I got your email about the book from France. They sent it rather fast.”

“I was surprised, too,” you admit. There’s one book left, and you really should get down from the stool, move it, and get up again, but you’re lazy. You reach, getting up on your toes, just barely getting the book into place when you feel the stool slip from under you. You gasp, a thousand thoughts rushing through your head during the split second you’re in free fall, and then you land softly, not on the floor, but against a corduroy chest, strong arms holding you.

“Shit, that was close!”

You’re tongue-tied, wide-eyed with shock, heart in your throat and going a mile a minute to make up for the missed beats.

“Are you okay?”

You slowly start to realize that you’re in the arms of Marcus Pike, who caught you when you fell from the stool. And he’s still holding you.

“Yeah, I, yeah, fine, I’m good.” You babble, moving uncomfortably to let him know to let you down, which he does with the utmost care. Your legs are wobbly, and Pike keeps a hand on your waist to make sure you won’t fall.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive,” you now giggle, embarrassed but simultaneously exhilarated by the rush of adrenaline. “That wasn’t stupid at all, was it? I’ve been thinking about having that stool replaced, but I never got around to it, haha. I guess it takes an accident for me to get my thumb out of my a-, I mean, to get it done.”

Your cheeks are heating up, your hands are shaking as you grab the handles of the cart, kicking the accursed stool to the side.

“That was really scary, though,” Pike tells you in a low voice. “You could’ve really injured yourself.”

“Yeah, thanks, I mean, thanks for catching me.” You bite your lower lip and force yourself to look at him. “I’m so embarrassed. I should’ve been more careful.”

“Just glad I was here,” he shrugs, slowly following you as you march to the desk. “Although one could argue that had I not been here, you wouldn’t have tried to restack that heavy book without moving your stool. Sorry if I stressed you.”

“You didn’t,” you tell him lightly. “I sometimes cut corners like that. It’s fine, no harm done.”

You park the cart in its spot behind the desk, and turn to the shelf of reserved books.

“Here’s your inter-library loan. Due date four weeks from now, if you need it for longer, you know the drill.”

“I do,” he replies quietly and accepts the book from you. Holding it in one hand, he carefully opens it with the other, and thoughtfully browses through it. You sit down, flustered and still a little shaky, hoping that he’ll leave so that you can nurse your wounded pride, and maybe have a drink of water.

“It’s about these eighteenth-century art frauds in Europe – “

“I know. I read the title,” you cut him off, more curt than you meant to. Pike closes the book and nervously fingers the paper slip in it.

“You read French?”

“I even speak it.”

A smile breaks out on his face. “Of course you do.”

You stare at him, frowning as you try to understand what his deal is, and why he’s suddenly smiling like that. It’s never happened before.

And you’ve never noticed what a charming smile he has. It reveals a dimple in his right cheek that makes him look younger than he is – not that he’s old in any way, he must be around your age, somewhere between forty and fifty. The smile makes you even more shaky, and you can’t stop staring at him. He eventually notices, the smile dies down, and he lowers his eyes.

“Well, thanks,” he mumbles, turning around and walking away briskly, leaving you to stare after him, wondering what the hell happened.

Mandy comes in from her lunch break, waves a hello, then stops when she sees you.

“Is everything okay?”

You nod dismissively. “I’m fine, Mandy. I just… almost fell from a stool. But no harm done.”

She expresses her sympathies before going to the study area. You take a deep breath, and disappear into the back room for a glass of water.

There’s tittling in the stacks, but you don’t pay it any mind: it’s part of library life, especially on a campus filled with hormonal young adults. It’s not until your hear Professor Pike’s name mentioned that you stop writing on your keyboard, and strain to hear better.

“He’s the best lecturer here.”

“And he’s so fucking hot, don’t you think?”

“Cara! He’s a million years old!”

“No, he’s not, he’s like the youngest of the faculty, except for Langley, but she’s a woman.”

“Well, I’m bi, and she’s fine too.”

Shameless giggling ensues, and you have to stifle one as well.

“Wouldn’t mind doing some extra credit for Professor Pike…”

“That’s so tacky, Mindy.”

“Come on, like you haven’t thought about it.”

The girls appear from the stacks, carrying literature over to the self service check-out.

“I just think that his lectures are amazing. He can explain literally anything so that I get it. And he knows so much.”

You stare at your screen, but you’re listening to the students.

“He should lecture more, why doesn’t he have any classes?”

“Dug, because he’s a professor, he has other things to do.”

“I’d give him something to do…”

More giggling.

“I’m serious! I ended upw atching that Youtube lecture twice just because he’s so good!”

The girls borrow their books while talking, then nod good-bye to you as they leave. You nod back, then hit up Youtube, and type in Professor Marcus Pike.

You find a video of him giving a lecture on the history of art, and open it. And your jaw drops.

The man in the video is confident without being cocky, talkative, engaging, contact-seeking. He speaks clearly, even drops a couple of jokes, and he walks around the podium in the auditorium. If it wasn’t for that corduroy jacket with the leather patches at the shoulders, the one that you had enveloped around yourself last week, you wouldn’t have recognized the man.

You close the video and chew your lower lip. You always thought Pike was this nutty professor who didn’t know how to behave around people and preferred books to socializing. But the man in the video is nothing like that. So what is his problem when talking to you?

Navigating to Facebook, you search his name, finding him easily enough. He doesn’t seem to be very active, but his professional profile is listed.

His status is set to “single”, which surprises you, but you think no further of it. You click on to photos, finding only a few, most of them outdated.

“Good afternoon.”

You look up, startled at the familiar voice. Seeing Marcus Pike’s face, you close the browser window quickly.

“Sorry,” he quickly apologizes. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No worries, I was just… working.”

He clears his throat. “I’d like to return this.”

You accept the book from him, recognizing it as one of his previous ILL’s.

“Thank you.”

A couple of students come in, saying hello to both of you before disappearing into the stacks, phones in hand, library catalog probably open in their mobile browsers. Marcus looks after them, moving his weight from one foot to the other. You put the book to the side.

“Anything else I can do for you, Professor?”

He almost jumps at the sound of your voice.

“Um, no, thank you, I have to get back to work, grad student coming to see me, um, thanks, I’ll let your know if I need anything.”

He leaves the library, and you’re almost laughing. What the hell was that?

As soon as the students have found and borrowed their books, and you’re alone in the library with Mandy, she gets up and comes over to the desk. You smile your mild customer service smile at her, but she returns it with a wry grin.

“You know that he likes you right?”

You blink, not understanding. “Excuse me?”

“Professor Pike. He likes you.”

You shake your head to show her that you have no idea what she’s talking about, and she laughs.

“Oh, come on! The way he stutters and stumbles when he’s here. And he talks about you all the time, every chance he gets.”

“He what?” Your voice goes up, and you clamp your mouth shut. Mandy nods.

“He always tells us to use the library, and ask you for help. The librarian there is really competent, we’re lucky to have such a professional at our service, that sort of thing.”

“Why do you think that means he likes me?” you ask, cheeks heating up. This is stupid, this girl is half your age, and you’re talking like both of you are in middle school.

“Because he’s super confident in class, in meetings, whenever he talks to anyone, except you.”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

“Hello!” Mandy rolls her eyes. “Earth to librarian lady! He’s like a flustered cinnamon bun whenever he’s around you – “

“Cinnamon bun?” you interrupt her, incredulously.

“Cutie patootie in old folk speech,” Mandy smirks at you, and you scoff.

“I know what a cinnamon bun is.”

“Whatever. He comes here constantly, doesn’t he? I sit here most days, and no other faculty member visits as much. He’s here practically every day, asking you the simplest questions. He’s into you.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about, Mandy,” you mumble, hands fidgeting in your lap.

“Alright, if you say so,” she smirks. “But I know what I’d do if I were you.”

Later, when she leaves the library, wishing you a good weekend, you open up the browser window again, Pike smiling charmingly at you from his profile picture. You look at it for a long time before logging out, and getting up to reshelf returns.

Friday afternoon in the library makes for slow hours. It’s usually empty – even Mandy has left – and while it gives you the opportunity to prepare for next week, there are Fridays when you’d rather just close up, if you could, and go home early.

A quarter to four, when you’re impatiently tapping your foot for closing time, Marcus Pike shows up again. Mandy’s words echo in your head, making you nervous for the first time, but you manage to suppress that, instead turning on your professional persona.

“Back so soon?” you ask him lightly

“Yeah, I need a book.” He seems to understand himself how stupid that sounded.

“You’ve come to the right place.”

He tells you the title, and you look it up.

“It’s in, call number N5198-5299,” you inform him, then looking up at his hesitant expression. “It’s in the corner over there.”

“Um, could you show me? I’m not good at this.”

“Okay.” You get up and walk around the desk. “But it’s a class that you use a lot, Professor, you should be accustomed to it by now.”

“Marcus.”

“What’s that?”

“Call me Marcus. I don’t much like titles anyway.”

“Uh-huh.”

You take him to the right stacks, walking in between the heavy cases. It’s a tight squeeze, this one, and the book is located further in. You pick it out, and turn around, only to find Marcus standing right behind you.

You’ve been in this situation before, many times even. Worst times were when you worked in the city library, and creeps would crowd you between the stacks, not trying anything but coming closer than necessary.

Your heart misses a beat, but you’re not uncomfortable. Instead, you smell something familiar and comforting, something besides old paper, leather covers, and ink. It takes you a moment to realize that it’s Marcus’s cologne, the corduroy, his shampoo: earthy but fresh, a little like the forest after rain, but with an undertone of old leather armchair.

You wet your lips, and hold up the book he asked for.

“Your book.”

“Thank you.” He doesn’t take it, so you lower your hand. He clears his throat, but this time, he doesn’t look away, but straight into your eyes.

“I was wondering…”

“Yeah?” you breathe.

“There’s this classic movie festival this weekend, and I was wondering…”

“If I wanted to go with you?” you finish his sentence for him, as he takes too long for you to wait. He blinks, then smiles that sweet smile again.

“Exactly. Yes. Would you?”

“I’d like that.”

“Really?” The smile seems to broaden even more.

“Sure. Tomorrow?”

“Perfect. I can pick you up, if you want to. At six?”

“Perfect,” you echo, now smiling widely yourself. He exhales, like he’s been holding his breath this entirely time.

“Perfect.”

The desk phone rings, startling both of you. The book falls from your hand, and you look down at it, then up at Marcus.

“I need to get that.”

“Of course,” he nods. You make a little movement with your head.

“I need to get past you, Marcus?”

“Oh, yes, of course, sorry.”

He backs out from between the cases, letting you out as well. His cologne seems to rub off on your arm when you brush past him, hurrying to the desk. You answer the phone and try to focus on the person calling, take a couple of notes, and end the call just as Marcus comes walking to the desk, book in hand. You check it out for him, give him your number, and he smiles again as he thanks you. You follow him to the door so that you can close up after him.

“I’ll call,” he promises as he steps out. You nod, hand on the door handle.

“Looking forward to it.”

He raises the book as a farewell, then starts walking down the corridor. You’re about to close the door when you suddenly step out, calling his name.

“Marcus!”

He turns around immediately, and now that he’s standing with his back straight, instead of hunched over, you notice how tall and broad-shouldered he is.

“Yes?”

“For the record… you’re into me, right?”

He chuckles, his ears turning pink. “Yeah, I’m into you.”

“Just checking,” you grin. “See you tomorrow.”

#marcus pike #marcus pike x you #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike fanfic #my fic

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moonstruckme · 1 month ago

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Omg wait are you looking for prince!sirius requests? I love that series but I didn't want to be pushy about it lol

What about some kind of big event for r that she's feeling some anxiety about, and she goes to sirius for help? Like she's giving a speech so she practices it with him, or they do flashcards of important people she needs to know the names of?

Thanks for requesting angel!

cw: allusions to Black family dynamics

prince!Sirius x princess!reader ♡ 860 words

“You’ve got it,” Sirius encourages you. “I’ll give you a hint. It starts with a b, like buttmunch, which if you talk to him you’ll find is really very fitting.”

Your lips curve, but your brow remains firmly set in concentration.

“Okay, b. B…Beekman?”

“Very close.” Sirius puts the flashcard down. “Becker.”

“Damn it.” You sit back from where you’d leaned forward to peer at Becker’s face, hands clasping around your tented knees.

“Time for a break?” he suggests.

“Yeah, guess so.” You reach for the cup of tea sitting on your bedside table, rubbing beside your eyebrow.

You’re wearing pajamas again. Or, they might not be pajamas to you, but they are to Sirius. Sweatpants and a loose top that drapes off your form and looks delightfully soft. Sirius had tried to follow suit, but the closest he could get was a plain, fitted shirt and his most comfortable trousers. Sirius’ family doesn’t really believe in loungewear.

He likes that you’re not like that, though. It’s hard to know how normal the Blacks are even among royalty, but you seem less bound to any expectations besides your own than any royals he’s met. You were kind enough to lend him a pair of sweatpants when he arrived, and Sirius has never felt more spoiled.

“Sorry this is taking so long,” you say. “I was never great with names.”

“You’ll be alright,” Sirius reassures you. Though, names are sort of a big part of these dinners. Everyone wants you to know who they are, to validate their importance and make them feel like they have a close personal connection to power. Sirius is lucky; memorization comes easily to him, and he’s been kept abreast of who’s dying off and who’s getting married since he was old enough to speak. “Even if you can’t remember all of them, you can always get by with enthusiasm.”

You cock your head interestedly. “Enthusiasm?”

“You know. Goodness gracious,” he rolls his eyes, speaking with a deadpan delivery, “it is so wonderful to finally meet you. How are you, how is your family? That sort of shit.”

Your smile blooms. It really is a lovely sight, and one Sirius wishes he’d been graced with more often since meeting you. He understands why you’ve not been in particularly high spirits; after meeting an entire new family, being forced to make nice with supercilious aristocrats, and learning your family plans to marry you off without really asking for your input, Sirius wouldn’t be feeling particularly smiley either. Still, he hopes to see more of it.

“Does that really work?” you ask him.

“Course. All any of them want is to feel like you know them. Whatever accomplishes that is fine. What did the Queen tell you?”

Your smile fades, your mouth twisting instead with a dry humor. “She wasn’t around. One of her advisors just said to study the flashcards and try to talk as little as was inoffensive, whatever that means. Basically stay out of trouble, I guess.”

Sirius huffs a laugh. He can’t count how many times people have told him to stay out of trouble. He’s fairly sure he never once listened.

“Well, I think you’ll do lots better than they’re expecting.”

“Really?” Your eyes turn up to his, big and hopeful. Sirius feels his mouth curve of its own volition.

“Yeah,” he says earnestly. “Just be yourself, gorgeous. They won’t be able to leave you alone.

It’s certainly been true for Sirius. And the fact is, you could make the biggest faux pas of the century and none of those snobs would call you on it. You’re a princess.

He does genuinely believe that you could get by even without your status, though. You’re not an imposing presence, but there’s an air about you that puts people at ease. You emanate good intentions. It’s intriguing; Sirius hardly knows anything about those.

You hide a smile behind your teacup. “I thought we said no flirting when no one was around.”

“Sorry. Can’t help it. Fair warning, by the way,” he drops his voice into a more serious register, “you’ll probably have to be introduced to my parents. Now that they think you’ve agreed to their arrangement, they’ll want to meet you.”

“Oh.” You blink, lowering your tea. “Okay. I’m excited to meet them.”

So this is how you sound when you lie.

“It won’t be fun,” Sirius warns. “They’re not nice, but they probably won’t really care about speaking to you after being introduced. It ought to be short, at least.”

“Sirius,” you laugh, and it’s hard to tell whether the twitch in Sirius’ gut is from you saying his name or the sound of your laughter. Further studies will be needed. “They’re your parents. They can’t be that bad.”

Sirius heaves a sigh, flopping sideways so he’s lying across your bed. “They are.” He gives your knee a pat. “But no need to worry about that now. Ready to get back to the cards?”

“Sure.” Your posture straightens slightly, a cute, concentrated frown coming to your lips. Sirius holds up the first flashcard. “Alright. This one’s name starts with a w, like wanker.”

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asterlark · 1 year ago

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me and den @unloneliest were just talking about murderbot and ART's relationship and i want to discuss how they quite literally complete each other's sensory and emotional experience of the world!!

there's a few great posts on here such as this one about how murderbot uses drones to fully and properly experience the world around it (it also accesses security cameras/other systems for this same purpose). but i haven't seen anyone so far talk about how once MB stops working for the company and consequently doesn't have a hubsystem/secsystem to connect to anymore (which for its entire existence up to that point had been how it was used to interacting with its environment/doing its job), after it meets ART, ART starts to fill that gap.

ART gives MB access to more cameras, systems, and information archives than it would normally be able to connect with while MB is on its own outside of ART's... body(? lol), but also directly gives MB access to its own cameras, drones, archives, facilities, and processing space. additionally, so much of ART's function is dedicated to analysis, lateral thinking, and logical reasoning, and it not only uses those skills in service of reaching murderbot's goals, it teaches murderbot how to use those same skills. (ART might be a bit of an asshole about how it does this, but that doesn't negate just how much it does for murderbot for no reason other than it's bored/interested in MB as an individual.)

we all love goofing about how artificial condition can basically be boiled down to "two robots in a trench coat trying to get through a job interview" (which is entirely accurate tbh) but that's also such a great example of ART fulfilling the role of both murderbot's "hubsystem" and "secsystem", allowing it to fully experience its environment/ succeed in its goals. ART provides MB with crucial information, context, and constructive criticism, and uses its significant processing power to act as MB's backup and support system while they work together.

from ART's side of things, we get a very explicit explanation of how it needs the context of murderbot's emotional reactions to media in order to fully understand and experience the media as intended. it tried to watch media with its humans, and it didn't completely understand just by studying their reactions. but when it's in a feed connection with murderbot, who isn't human but has human neural tissue, ART is finally able to thoroughly process the emotional aspects of media (side note, once it actually understands the emotional stakes in a way that makes sense for it, it's so frightened by the possibility of the fictional ship/crew in worldhoppers being catastrophically injured or killed that it makes murderbot pause for a significant amount of time before it feels prepared to go on. like!! ART really fucking loves its crew, that is all).

looking at things further from ART's perspective: its relationship with murderbot is ostensibly the very first relationship it's been able to establish with not only someone outside of its crew, but also with any construct at all. while ART loves its crew very much (see previous point re: being so so scared for the fate of the fictional crew of worldhoppers), it never had a choice in forming relationships with them. it was quite literally programmed to build those relationships with its crew and students. ART loves its function, its job, and nearly all of the humans that spend time inside of it, but its relationship with murderbot is the first time it's able to choose to make a new friend. that new friend is also someone who, due to its partial machine intelligence, is able to understand and know ART on a whole other level of intimacy that humans simply aren't capable of. (that part goes for murderbot, too, obviously; ART is its first actual friend outside of the presaux team, and its first bot friend ever.)

and because murderbot is murderbot, and not a "nice/polite to ART most of the time" human, this is also one of the first times that ART gets real feedback from a friend about the ways that its actions impact others. after the whole situation in network effect, when the truth of the kidnapping comes to light and murderbot hides in the bathroom refusing to talk to ART (and admittedly ART doesn't handle this well lol) - ART is forced to confront that despite it making the only call it felt able to make in that horrifying situation, despite it thinking that that was the right call, its actions hurt murderbot, and several other humans were caught in the crossfire. what's most scary to ART in that moment is the idea that murderbot might never forgive it, might never want to talk to it again. it's already so attached to this friendship, so concerned with murderbot's wellbeing, that the thought of that friendship being over because of its own behavior is terrifying. (to me, this almost mirrors murderbot's complete emotional collapse when it thinks that ART has been killed. the other more overt mirror is ART fully intending on bombing the colony to get murderbot back.)

in den's words, they both increase the other's capacity to feel: ART by acting as a part of murderbot's sensory system, and murderbot by acting as a means by which ART can access emotion. they love one another so much they would do pretty much anything to keep each other safe/avenge each other, but what's more, they unequivocally make each other more whole.

#the murderbot diaries #murderbot #asshole research transport #network effect #mine #idk what else to tag lol #BIG thanks to den unloneliest for helping so much with the drafting/editing of this!!!#we both were having some brain fog issues yesterday so we joked that with our combined forces we can make one (1) post lol #just like mb and ART fr!!!!#anyway im so fucking emotional over themmmmm #murderbot meta #the murderbot diaries meta

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enkvyu · 1 year ago

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3:19pm — gojo satoru;

"you have to be out of your mind!"

gojo only smiles in response. "now, now, it's best if you calm down." he gestures for you to lower your volume but the action is only seen as a taunt in your eyes. "if you listen to me, you'll find that i'm actually very sane."

the two of you stand alone in a classroom following the chime of a bell, your students having rushed out before you could say your last few words. when your door had reopened, you were surprised to find gojo seeking you out for a favour, and even more surprised as four words tumbled out from his lips and into your ears.

"gojo, stop joking around! you want me to, to, i can't do that!" you stammer around the topic, hoping to dance around it forever. you're aware of the heat in your cheeks but you can only pray that he takes it as disgust, rather than being flustered.

despite your protest, gojo remains unphased, still calming you down like you were a wild animal. his smile never wavers as if your reaction brought him great entertainment, and you didn't doubt that it did.

sighing, you catch your head in your hands. "say it again."

"calm down?"

"no, your favour. i think i heard it wrong."

"go out with me?"

your fury comes back tenfold at his careless attitude. you had never imagined that your first confession would be from your stupid co-worker that you'd rather be dead than caught dating. his sickening sweet smile, the way in which he believed he could bat his eyes and everything would go his way, the fact that he was probably right, everything about gojo satoru was enough to drive you mad.

finally, after quelling your anger, you turn around and leave him unharmed. "where's shoko?" you ask instead.

"where are you going?"

"to shoko's." you say, passing him to reach the door closest to you. "i think i need a drink."

"but you haven't answered yet!" his arm traps you from leaving the room, palm holding down the door, his presence overbearing behind you.

you narrow your eyes at the door in front of you. "what are you doing?"

"waiting for your response? don't just leave a guy hanging, that's too cruel."

you mumble something incoherent about playing with someone else's feelings as being cruel, but you bite it back. most of your brain power was occupied with ignoring the fact that his chest was hovering just a few moments from your back, and if, say, you were to lean back in the slightest, you would be met with him.

you turn around to face him, meeting his eyes through his blindfold. "no." you answer. you find some joy in seeing his expression fall. "now can you let me leave? you're seriously pissing me off."

despite the fabric, you swear you can see him blink. he tilts his head in question for a few seconds before speaking. "i don’t like that answer, it’s wrong. want to give it another shot?"

you flare up again. "there's no right answer to a confession!"

gojo smirks. "of course there is! rejection is a wrong answer especially if the person who's asking is me."

true, you were sure that gojo had never experienced any type of rejection in his life. you were pleased to be his first dose.

“well, there’s a first time for everything and i’d be happy to be the one teaching you that lesson.”

gojo studies you. “why are you so mad? don’t tell me you’re the romantic kind. would you say yes if i came back with a bouquet of flowers and some chocolate?”

“gojo, fuck you—”

the rest of your insult dies in a sudden bang, and you turn your head just in time to catch another door further down the wall of the classroom being slammed open. pink hair peaks around the door frame before gojo steps in front of you, effectively blocking your view.

"hey!" you say in protest, just as the newcomer speaks, drowning out your voice.

"gojo!" itadori’s words dies on his tongue as he faces his teacher standing in an awkward position, trapping some person in his arms. his brain short circuits as he wonders, is his teacher seriously flirting with someone in the classroom right now? oh god, this is so embarrassing.

"yuuji." gojo says pleasantly, just as two other heads poke around the frame, effectively freezing straight after. "megumi and nobara. what are you guys doing here?" the question seemed normal enough, but looking up, you could make out a vein on his jaw.

megumi looks between gojo and the hidden woman. he only looks once, but its enough for him to gather the picture. "bye." he says calmly, and turns to leave the room, nobara following behind with red cheeks and glancing away, less calm but with similar good intentions.

yuuji stands alone.

until nobara comes back, reaching over and drags him out the door. "sorry!" she squeaks, and the door slams behind him.

a silence settles over the pair. gojo sighs to himself, looking down at you only to find you giggling to yourself.

"what's so funny?" he asks.

"they totally think you’re hitting up someone in their classroom. oh my god, i am so embarrassed for you." you squeal playfully behind your fingers. “their respect for you has definitely dropped to hell at this point.”

"you’re awfully calm considering that this whole affair includes you."

"they wouldn't believe you." you defend. “do you seriously think anyone would pair us together as couple? one playing around during school time, no less? maybe you, but definitely not me.”

gojo raises an eyebrow at that, what part of him doesn't seem to fit with you for you to say that, and leans marginally closer as if to win you over. "you can't stop breaking my heart like this."

"i can and i will. now can you please get off of me before more people see? if any rumors spread i am so killing you."

he releases you reluctantly and watches as you make a show of dusting yourself off. he notes the way you didn't even seem flustered, and blames the fact that you were used to his antics. sighing, he reaches into his pocket for his last resort.

"okay, okay, i'll reveal myself." that gets your attention. you look over, curious, and ignore the fact that he was sulking.

"what?"

pulling out two pieces of colorful paper, he waves it in your direction. "i won two tickets for free entry into a carnival. if we go as a couple, we can get free food."

your emotions drain from your face. "this is what this was all about? you asked me out just to get free food?"

gojo steps forward again and interlaces your hands with his. "please?" he whines.

you grimace and pull away, breaking away to shake his gross germs off your hands. "if you said that from the start, i would have said yes, idiot! why’d you have to go and make things weird?" still, you find it in you to smile. "to think you would have just broken up with me after that, anyway."

his head perks up at your last words. this time, he is the one to ask. "what?"

“nothing.” you slide open the door and spare him a glance. “you promise there’s free food, right? then let’s meet up after class and head over. i’m warning you though, gojo satoru, you better not be playing with me.”

you close the door behind you and leave him.

gojo watches you go and sighs into the empty classroom. running a hand through his hair, he readjusts his blindfold and pockets the two tickets, pocketing his runaway feelings too, as they threaten to beat against his ribcage and chase after you, hoping to tell you the truth. but it’s impossible, gojo worries he’ll lose another friend, so he shuts his mouth for once and leaves the room, his traitorous heart looking forward to when he’ll get off work.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo fluff #jjk x reader

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wooahaeproductions · 5 months ago

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Tracing Time (part one)

Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x Female Reader

Summary: In order to cope with your mother’s death, you decide to study abroad in Rio for the summer just like she did. You come upon the diary she kept during that time, following all that she did 20 years ago. However, you didn't expect finding love would be part of that process.

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, comedy, smut (in part two), strangers to lovers au, neighbors au, college au

Word count: ~4.7k

Warnings: mentions of a family members death and mentions of ways to cope. Part two will have smut and will have it's own warnings.

Rating: 18+ for the completed fic

A/N: It's finally here! I struggled to write this for some reason but hopefully part two will come easier. This fic is for svthub's 2024 World Tour Collab and I am so happy to be apart of another collab. Please check out all the other amazing works as well! I also want to thank my beta readers Summer @beomcoups and Kiki @nonuify 🥰~Maren

You took a deep breath as you stopped in front of the student housing building and started at its gorgeous architecture before pulling an old photo from the front pocket of your bag. You held it out in front of you, confirming this was the building the smiling woman in the photo was standing in front of. You were here, standing in the same spot your mother had at your age when she studied at the very same summer exchange program in Brazil that you were going to.

You slipped the photo back into your bag and took one more big breath before bringing yourself and your luggage into the lobby of the building. You were supposed to meet the student liaison for the university exchange program there to get your dorm keys along with your class information. You looked around the large lobby in awe. It looked much more like a hotel with its grand marble floors and sophisticated ambiance than student accommodations.

“You must be Y/N!” You heard a woman say in accented English and you spotted her walking across the lobby toward you. She was an older woman wearing a designer pantsuit, and her hair looked like she had just been at a salon. You certainly weren’t in Chicago anymore. Everything was different here, and you had only been at the airport and this place so far.

“Hi, I am she,” you responded to the woman, feeling a little overwhelmed already. Which honestly wasn’t that unusual given the circumstances of the past year.

“Welcome to PUC University and Rio de Janeiro. I’m Mrs. Delgado,” she said. She must have sensed how overwhelmed you were because she gave your arm a gentle pat before continuing. She pulls a packet of paper out of the bag she was carrying and hands it to you. “This is your class schedule and some information about the benefits available to you as an exchange student. There are only three classes since it is a summer program, one being the Portuguese class that all of our international students are required to take, Drawing 110, and Brazilian Art and Architecture.”

After explaining your schedule, she then pulled out a set of keys that jingled on an ornate keychain, one that matched the building. “And these are the keys to your dorm,” she said, handing them to you. “I’ll let you get settled and ready for your first day tomorrow. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to contact me and boa sorte!” A second later, she was gone leaving you staring at your dorm number on the keychain.

“203,” you murmured the number, looking around to see if there was any indication of where your room would be. You opted to ask the boy manning the front desk, whose English was actually great. He pointed to the staircase on the other end of the lobby and told you it was up those and to the right. Just as you were about to head up the stairs, wheeling your suitcase behind you, someone just about knocked you over. A guy to be exact, a handsome one at that.

“Oh my gosh, I’m late. I’m so sorry, but I’m late!” He blurted, briskly brushing past you with a rushed apology. You stood at the bottom of the stairs, blinking while he ran out of the building. You didn’t have the energy to think about him right now despite his looks, not that you ever entertained the idea of a meet-cute this way or god forbid actually falling in love in this scenario.

You shook your head and put the handle down on your suitcase so you could carry it upstairs with you. You turned the key in the door to your room and walked in, your eyes taking in where you would live for the next few months. It was simple, much like a hotel room but you did have a tiny kitchenette that you didn’t expect to have and a window that looked out to the square that was in front of the building.

You brought your suitcase up on the twin bed so you could unpack a few things before thinking about finding dinner. You put a few clothes in the small dresser that was there before stumbling upon the whole reason you were here: your mom’s diary. You picked it up and sat on the edge of the bed with it, fingertips stroking the leather cover.

Six months earlier

People were coming in and out of the house giving you and your family words of condolences, but everything was a blur to you. You sat on the couch in the living room when you had all come back from the funeral home, numb to everything. Tears had long since been exhausted, and now all you were was an empty shell, an empty shell without a mother. You were vaguely aware that your grandmother had sat down next to you, brushing your bangs out of your eyes before gently placing a book in your lap: your mother’s diary from when she was the same age as you.

You opened the leather book up, looking at the cover page that you had stared at so many times since your grandmother had given it to you. You recognized your mom’s loopy writing confirming that the diary belonged to her and Summer 1985 written underneath. You turned the page to the first entry, the one that had the photo of your mother outside this building stuck in right before it. It was dated June 15th of that year, when she arrived in Brazil and was in the same student housing.

As you read your mother's account of her arriving at student housing, you couldn’t help but feel as if you were hearing her voice again. It was almost as if you were just on a trip and you were reading a letter she sent you. But of course, you weren’t just on any trip, and she was gone.

Your stomach grumbled, interrupting your reading, and you closed the diary. You sighed, wondering if you should venture out to find something to eat. You pulled out your phone and laid down on the bed for a few minutes while you looked to see if there was someplace close that sounded decent. However, jet lag took over, and you fell asleep with your phone in your hand, it falling and smacking you on the forehead some time later.

Fourteen hours later, you awoke to your phone alarm going off. You panicked. Was that the first time your alarm went off? Were you late for your first class? You hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all, but that darn jet jag overcame you. Pressing your finger on the phone screen to silence the alarm, you were relieved to find that it really was just your first alarm. It was 7:30 am and you weren’t late, you had plenty of time. Which was a good thing because your stomach had upgraded from the light growling from last night to feeling like it was about to eat itself.

You had done your research before enrolling in the summer program and knew that the university offered a student cafeteria for meals that was part of the tuition fee. You assumed it was in the packet of information you received yesterday as well, but you hadn’t had time to look over that yet. You got dressed in a simple sundress, one that was classy and suited to the warm weather in Rio. You grabbed the book bag with all your class materials from where you placed it at the small table by the door and headed out of your dorm.

The lobby was bustling with others probably also headed to their morning classes. The university’s campus was only a short distance away, so you opted to walk although it looked like the dorms had bikes outside the building that you could borrow if you wanted to. Your first class didn’t begin until 9 am and you would have plenty of time to get there as well as get breakfast at the cafeteria.

You walked out of the dorm building and out to the cobbled stoned square. You paused to bring a map up on your phone, making sure you were about to head in the correct direction. You continued to walk on the brownish-gray stones as you passed by a few little shops before the cobblestones turned into a normal concrete street. You followed it up a small hill before you reached a large traffic circle with the main university building behind it.

Luckily there was a campus map just outside the doors to the main entrance. You looked at it, finding where the cafeteria was and also noting where the international building was for your class afterward. The cafeteria was teeming with students getting food, mostly breakfast at this early hour. You got in line and grabbed some sliced fruit and scrambled eggs, as well as some coffee. They had some items that were also common for Brazilian culture, but you opted to try those later when you were less nervous and didn’t have a class to attend right after.

You scanned your meal card at the checkout which had been in the packet of information that Mrs. Delgado had given you yesterday. You chose an empty table near the windows and ate your food as leisurely as you could before class. Your stomach was no longer trying to eat itself and all that remained was an uncertain feeling in the pit of it. You didn’t even know why you felt all this turmoil, but nothing felt right or even normal since your mother passed.

You placed your empty tray at one of the receptacles by the door and walked out of the cafeteria. You followed the path you mapped out earlier, leading to the international building. You had about 15 minutes before the class started, so you didn’t need to hurry. You looked around at the buildings on your way. The campus looked much like a normal campus but all buildings were made from stucco material and the main roads had a wave-like pattern in them.

You reached the classroom after a few minutes. The door was on the outside of the building and you opened it. Still being a bit early, there were only a few people in the classroom. You chose a seat in the middle, not too far in the front but not too far in the back. You sat your bookbag on the floor next to you, took out the textbook with your notebook and a pen, and set them on the table in front of you. A couple of loud students entered the classroom and you couldn’t help but look up at the noise.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. The same boy who nearly ran you over yesterday was among the group. You inwardly groaned. Worse yet, when he scanned the room for a seat, he spotted you. You looked down at the desk, trying to hide your face to no avail. “Oh! It’s you!” He exclaimed, coming to sit in the space next to you. You kept looking in every other direction but his, hoping he would think you were actually someone else.

He didn’t seem to be aware that you were trying to avoid eye contact and continued to introduce himself. “Hi, I’m Soonyoung! I’m really sorry for almost running into you yesterday but I hope we can be friends since it looks like we are both exchange students!” Now you couldn’t help but stare at him. How could someone have so much energy and also be so clueless to your anti-social cues? Your brain was tired just listening to him ramble on.

You weren’t sure what else he was saying but it sounded like he asked a question. “-your name?” Oh, great, he was asking for your name. You contemplated not telling him, but he would probably annoy it out of you anyway. “I’m Y/N,” you responded, your irritation slightly bleeding into your tone. Soonyoung didn’t get to say anything after that. Luckily, the teacher walked into the classroom at that moment, clapping his hands to gain everyone’s attention and effectively cutting off any conversations happening.

The teacher, who introduced himself as Mr. Morales went over the class syllabus, and then you started in on the first chapter of the textbook which introduced the different sounds the Portuguese language had versus English. You avoided Soonyoung’s gaze the entire time but you could feel it on you. As soon as class was dismissed, you threw your belongings back in your bag and booked it out of the classroom before he had time to think about catching you.

You didn’t have more classes today, your other two would happen tomorrow so you had planned to take the somewhat long trek to see the famous statue in Rio, Christ the Redeemer. It would take you about an hour and a half by bus, but your mother had visited it, so you wanted to as well. You pulled out the bus timetable and map (one of the many things in the packet that Mrs. Delgado had given you) from your bag as you walked back toward the front of campus where the bus stops were.

You found the stop for the correct bus number and sat down in a seat under the covered area to avoid the early afternoon sun. The timetable showed the bus you needed would be there in about five minutes and once you got off it, you would have to decide if you wanted to walk to the statue or if you were going to take a tram.

You sat there watching students walk by as you waited, looking like they were having the best time being at school. You felt so out of place, questioning why you even decided to come here. Would this really make you feel closer to your mother, make you feel better about her being gone? You highly doubted you’d ever feel better about the latter.

You stuck your hand inside your bookbag, finding your mother’s diary and brushing your hand over the smooth leather surface. Somehow feeling the front of the book, touching a physical item of hers always soothed your thoughts. You knew you would continue feeling like you didn’t belong in a place as amazing as Rio, but you wanted to keep seeing what she saw and hearing her voice through diary entries, even if it was something you could only hear in your head.

The bus arrived, pulling you out of your thoughts and you got up to get on it. You tapped the bus pass on the pad at the front near the driver and scanned the bus. There were quite a few people on the bus but it wasn’t packed. You spotted a window seat near the middle and took it. The ride was kind of long but you had nice scenery to look at and the bus wasn’t too loud. You took some time to relax a little and soak it all in.

About an hour later, the bus had reached its destination. You had arrived at the bottom of a somewhat large mountain near the entrance to a rainforest. You looked at how high it was and at the statue at the top. You definitely were not going to hike that today, and opted to take the tram that was available instead. There was a little kiosk nearby where you bought your tram ticket and a schedule posted on the side that said the tram came every 5 minutes at this time of day.

Luckily, you didn’t have to wait long at all since you bought your ticket just a minute or two before the next one arrived. You handed your ticket over to the driver and got on the tram. It reminded you of those trams they had when you went to the zoo or something. The sides were open so you could feel the breeze as the tram climbed the mountain and you could smell the different plants and trees.

The further the tram climbed, the closer the famous statue got, and soon you arrived at the bottom of it. The tram stopped at the park at the top of the mountain that contained Christ the Redeemer. You got off the tram, in awe of how big the statue really was. You knew it was big, but seeing it in person was something else entirely.

Many people surrounded the bottom of the statue and there were no benches to be seen. You found an empty area on one side and decided to sit on the concrete floor of the platform. Looking up at the statue, you settled in your sitting spot and pulled your sketchbook and your mother’s diary from your bag. You opened the diary to the next unread page, dated a week later than the first. Another photo was stuck in the pages and you took it out, seeing another photo of your mother smiling, with Christ the Redeemer in the background.

June 21st, 1985

Rio has been amazing. I haven’t been here long but it sometimes feels like home to me. I feel like I belong here with all this incredible architecture. And guess what? I met a boy! I came to visit the famous Christ the Redeemer statue and he offered to take my photo with the statue. He was actually in the middle of drawing a caricature for another girl but dropped everything when he saw I was trying to take a photo of myself with the statue. I couldn’t help but swoon a little. I found out he studies drawing at the same university that I’m attending for the summer. And then he asked me out for dinner! I’m really excited to go on a date with him. Will this just be a summer fling or could it be more?

You took in this entry. Did your mom meet someone here? Was it your dad? You couldn’t help but be curious about this man and you wondered how far their relationship had gotten. Was he the person from whom you got your talent for drawing? You had so many questions and knew that those questions might go unanswered. For now, you opted to try and feel connected by drawing something yourself.

You took your sketch pencils out of the small pocket at the front of your bag and opened your sketchbook up to a blank page. Setting it in your lap, you looked around, deciding what you wanted to sketch exactly. Just the statue or the people surrounding it too? You decided to just sketch the statue to start with and fill in surrounding areas as you saw fit. You drew, looking up every once in a while to look at the small details of the statue.

One time you looked up and noticed someone busking close to the bottom of the statue a little bit in front of you. He looked cute from just a glance. He was dancing to a little boombox playing near him with a cup next to it, collecting any change people were willing to give. You looked closer and realized who the dancer was. Soonyoung. You sighed in annoyance. Was he everywhere? Was the universe messing with you?

You continued to draw, hoping he was too distracted by his busking to notice you. There were tons of people around, there was no way he could spot you among all of them. As you sketched your eyes couldn’t help but be drawn back to him like a magnet. His dance moves were sharp but smooth and you could see his routine completely consumed him. You kept taking glances while sketching.

You were finishing up the last few lines when you heard your name called. You thought he was too enthralled with his busking to notice you, but you were very wrong. He picked up his cup of change and his boombox and jogged over to where you were. “I didn’t expect to see you here,” he said, stopping in front of where you were sitting and giving you a smile that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“Um, yeah. I decided to do some sightseeing and do some sketching,” you responded, a little meekly. You felt weird around him now for some reason. He was annoying in class earlier, but now he seemed different and you weren't sure what to think. He was still bright and energetic but not irritatingly so.

“Oh, you draw?” he asked, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m studying here this summer. Art,” you explained.

“Cool! I’m here for performance arts if the busking hadn’t given you a heads up already,” He offered with a small laugh.

He paused your small conversation for a minute to take a look at his change cup to see how much he had made today.

“Listen, if you are done with what you wanted to do today..there’s a nice cafe near the tram station and if you are hungry, I made more than enough money today so I’d like to treat you,” He rambled. It wasn’t exactly a question, but the way he said it was actually kind of cute.

You were hungry and you supposed it couldn’t hurt, right? “Alright,” you agreed and a smile stretched across his face again. You put your sketchbook, pencils, and mom’s diary back in your bag and stood up, brushing your pants off from any dirt that you picked up while sitting on the ground. Maybe you should take a page from your mom’s book and get to know Soonyoung a little more.

You both walked back down off the statue’s platform and down the stairs to where the tram would pick you up and take you back down the mountain and to where the cafe Soonyoung mentioned would be. Once again, you did not have to wait long for the tram to arrive and you both got on, Soonyoung sitting next to you.

You could feel the breeze again as the tram descended the mountain this time. You looked over to find Soonyoung looking out the other side quietly, the wind ruffling his hair lightly. He had the same smile on his face as earlier, making his face look strangely childlike compared to the manly confidence he had earlier while busking. You liked seeing the two different sides of him. It was cute. He could be quiet when he was by himself, a big difference from when he was with a crowd.

While you were busy staring at Soonyoung, the tram stopped back at the bottom of the mountain. “Y/N?” Soonyoung questioned, holding out a hand to pull you up from the seat.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, not realizing you had spaced out. You took his hand as he pulled you up, noticing how big it was. It felt nice, having your hand engulfed in his. You continued to hold on to it as you both got off the tram. When you both got off, you let go awkwardly, not wanting to give Soonyoung the wrong idea (even if you did really like holding his). You hadn’t even been on a date yet. He gave a nervous chuckle and just beckoned you to follow him.

You followed him down a few streets from the park area where you guys were previously, to a little hole-in-the-wall cafe that was surrounded by other shops and small apartments. It was small and felt homey when you walked in the door with Soonyoung. You waited at the front for a minute or two before someone came by to seat you. “Oh? I see you brought a friend today!” The waitress said before grabbing some menus and guiding you to open-air seating at a back patio that featured a small garden to the side of it.

She sat you two at a table and sat the menus in front of you. “I’ll be back in a few to take your order,” she said before giving Soonyoung a knowing wink.

“I take it you come here a lot,” you commented.

“You could say that,” he responded with a sheepish grin, “I usually make enough to come here each time I busk, so two to three times a week?”

“Two to three times a week?!” You were surprised that he busked that often and that he chose to come here every time.

“Yeah, it’s the only way for me to make some extra cash. I’m here through a special program so they only pay for my tuition and dorm fees,” he explained. You nodded. You were similar, except that you had your grandmother sending you spending money when you needed it.

You turned your attention to the menu, trying to decide what to eat. There were a lot of options but you decided to try a more traditional Brazilian stew called Feijoada. Something hearty sounded good after the busy day you’ve had so far. The waitress came by and took your order while Soonyoung ordered Moqueca, another type of stew but with seafood.

You made more small talk while waiting for your food to arrive such as where you were originally from (You: Chicago, Him: Seoul) and what types of foods you liked. You passed the time well enough that your food felt like it came out quickly. It looked amazing and your stomach confirmed how hungry you were by giving a small growl. Loud enough, however, to make Soonyoung let out a small giggle.

You start digging in when Soonyoung nervously broaches a topic. “So, when we were at Christ the Redeemer you mentioned doing some sightseeing. I don’t know if I’m reading too much into things, but it seems like it was more than just seeing the sights here.”

You put down your spoon and contemplate whether you want to open up to him or not. You sighed before starting your explanation. “You’re right, it’s not just general sightseeing. In fact, my mom is the whole reason I’m here.”

“Your mom?” He asked, prompting you to continue.

“Yeah…she um, died about 6 months ago,” you said, looking down at your stew like it was the most fascinating thing in the world at the moment.

“Oh, Y/N. I’m so sorry,” Soonyoung frowned, his voice turning sympathetic and you swore his eyes had a sheen to them.

“It’s…okay. Or at least it’s becoming okay,” you responded honestly and then continued. “Anyway, my grandma gave me my mom's diary. One she kept while she was here doing this program with the university. So I decided to do it too and see all the same sights she did hoping it might make me feel closer to her or something? I don’t know.” You were rambling a little now.

“I think that’s neat,” Soonyoung said after a minute.

“You do?” You asked, a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I think it’s cool. You get to go stand where she stood and see the same things she saw with her own eyes. That’s definitely a good way to feel closer to someone,” He encouraged.

“It does,” you agreed.

“This might sound weird and I know we’ve only known each other a few days but would it be okay if we go to the places your mom did together?” Soonyoung asked. His eyes no longer had the sheen you saw a minute ago but instead held a mixture of empathy, excitement, and something else you couldn’t decipher.

Before you knew it, you found yourself nodding. “I think I’d like that,” you said, a smile starting to tug at the edges of your lips. Then you leaned over the table to give him a small peck on the cheek. He looked a little stunned for a minute but then he smiled back, a wide smile that showed his teeth and you had to admit he was adorable.

How could you go from being so annoyed by him to liking him a lot in just one day? You didn’t know but maybe your mom would have wanted this for you.

All works on this blog are protected under copyright. Do not repost, continue, or translate my works.

#seventeen fanfic #svthub.collab #kvanity #kbookshelf #svthub #hoshi fanfic #svt hoshi #kwon soonyoung #svt smut #svt fluff #svt angst #hoshi fluff #hoshi angst #hoshi smut

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writerswall26 · 9 months ago

Text

My Sweet Cairo (Part 8)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, Emotions, Mention of death and SH.

Words: 2.4k

Masterlist | Previous Part | Next Part

A/N: I was so pumped while writing this. I enjoyed this part so much. We get to know what really happened and flesh out R's father's mind. We also saw Cairo being responsible and using the advices she received to get some help! Happy Reading!

Y/N tried to avoid being alone the entire day, not wanting to give Cairo the opportunity to have even a minute to talk to her. What Cairo told her a few nights ago is still stuck in her head. She doesn't know if she should be afraid or what.

"Hey, Y/—"

"Will you walk me home?" Cairo cut Jasmine off as soon as Y/N got out of her last class of the day. She was not expecting Cairo to wait for her!

Y/N looked shocked and confused. She gave Jasmine a look. But her friend just stood by and watched the scene unfold. Traitor!

"Y/N, walk me home, please?" Cairo said, sweetly this time, with a smile on her face.

"Uhm, I'm sorry but I have—"

"Uh no, we're not going. I gotta study for a pop quiz tomorrow. Winnie's coming to help me, I'm sorry dude." Jasmine cut the taller girl off.

Y/N glared at her while Cairo smiled widely. "So?" Cairo asked cutely, for fuck's sake!

"Uhm, sure." Y/N said hesitantly.

"Great!" Cairo said happily before she held the taller girl's hand and pulled her.

Y/N didn't say a single word as she turned to Jasmine and gave her a look, mouthing "I'm killing you tomorrow, you traitor!"

On the way home, the two of them did not say a word. They went with Y/N's route instead of Cairo's since Y/N has her bike with her.

"I've talked to Mr. Miller." Cairo started, causing Y/N to stop for a moment.

"Why?" She asked before she followed Cairo again.

"I went to apologise." Cairo started, causing Y/N to furrow her brows. "I'm seeing a therapist now," Cairo said, glancing at Y/N who looked really confused, and cute. "Your mom referred me to a work colleague of hers. Told me it might help with the issues I had."

Y/N is confused, like really confused. "Mum did that? Why?"

Cairo shrugged. "We were together for a few hours before you came when we had dinner. She confronted me about what I did. Told me the same thing you said, how messed up it was. Then she told me about a friend of hers, a therapist, she told me I should check it out, see if it helps. That's why I went to Mr. Miller. I want to sort things out before graduation."

"What did Mr. Miller say?"

"We sat down, talked about what went wrong, what happened. He apologized to me too. He accepted the fact that he was in the wrong too, that he wasn't careful and clear, that he stepped the boundaries and led me on."

Well that's... incredibly surprising. Y/N never thought she'd be hearing a redemption arc between two messed up individuals. Although, she's happy to hear that Mr. Miller's finally seen what he did wrong. That's a huge point. And she's happy that Cairo's seeking out help.

"So, how long would you be going to therapy?" Y/N asked, glancing at Cairo who pursed her lips.

"I don't know. As long as I need, I guess. It's not really that bad." Cairo said, smiling at the thought that Y/N is finally talking to her with anger and resentment in her voice.

"How about when you go to college? You wouldn't know anyone around there."

"My therapist knows a friend where I'm going to go. She said she'd refer me to him and continue therapy there."

Y/N nodded. "That's a good thing."

Cairo looked up at her, a smile on her face, her dimples showing. "How long have you gone to therapy?"

Y/N pursed her lips. "A year and a half, I guess? My therapist told me she was proud of my progress so she adviced that I spend my time being a normal kid. She told me I should come to her whenever I need and so far, it's all good."

Cairo nodded. "That's good. I'm proud of you."

Y/N chuckled, lowering her head. "Alright, mum." She said, which made Cairo laugh as well.

They continued walking silently, comfortable silence this time until they reached Cairo's place.

"Here's you." Y/N said, stopping in front of Cairo's house.

The brunette turned to her and gave her a smile. "Thank you for walking me home."

Y/N nodded. "It's no biggie."

Cairo leaned up and gave her a kiss on the cheek before she walked inside the house, throwing a glance at the tall girl who waved at her.

When Y/N was sure Cairo's finally inside, she rode her bike and went home where she waited for her mum to come home to ask questions.

That night, when Y/M/N came home, she was immediately cornered by Y/N at dinner.

"I was wondering," Y/N started. "What were you talking about with Cairo before I got home that night?"

Y/M/N gave her a smile. "You, Mr. Miller, dad." The older woman answered shortly.

Y/N furrowed her brows. "You talked to her about dad?"

Y/M/N nodded. "Yes, I wanted her to know how terrible of a person she was for doing what she did. But then there's Mr. Miller."

"Who's not entirely at fault."

"But he was indeed the adult in the situation."

"You're defending Cairo, mum."

Y/M/N looked at her daughter, seeing the problem once and for all. "I'm not defending Cairo, what she did was wrong, yes. But don't you think what Mr. Miller did was far worse than that?"

Y/N stayed quiet, thinking.

"Honey, Mr. Miller's case is different from your dad's case. You have to see that." Y/M/N explained, Y/N is being blinded by what happened to her dad.

"I know. I know it's different."

"And?" Y/M/N tried to probe further.

"I'm not defending Mr. Miller either, mum. If that's what you think. Maybe I'm over compensating. Maybe I thought by helping Mr. Miller, I gave justice to what happened to dad. But what if I'm wrong, mum?"

"Are you? Look at it from an outside perspective, honey. Look at it both ways."

Y/N furrowed her brows. She doesn't know where to go from here. It's weird talking about this with her mum but at the same time, the answers are clearer. Her mind wasn't being blocked by her emotions, her father's connection to the case. If there's anyone to blame, it's the both of them, Cairo and Mr. Miller. There's no one to defend, no one to side with.

"There's always a connection, honey." Her mum brought her back to her senses. "But there's a huge difference and that's what I want you to see. Yes, Cairo was in the wrong for seducing Mr. Miller. But is it entirely her fault? Is it really? Why would she act that way if Mr. Miller didn't do anything wrong?"

"Was I wrong for helping Mr. Miller?" Y/N finally asked, looking at her mum with worried eyes.

Y/M/N gave her a smile as she held her hand, squeezing it to assure her. "You did what you thought was right at the time. You saved both of them by doing so. Don't beat yourself up for it."

Y/N stayed up that night thinking of what her mum had told her. She wasn't really thinking when she lent a hand to Mr. Miller. She knew it was wrong, she heard it from Mr. Miller himself. And yet, she still sided with him for what? For her father? No, she thought. It's for personal gain. She had the power to turn the story around, and she did. So what does that say about her?

She's no different from those students she despises the most. Maybe even worse. Her thoughts are so incriminating, so powerful that she did not blink sleep that night.

So the next day when she got to class, she was noticeably tired. She looked like a walking zombie and anyone who sees her thought so too. Her friends and Cairo saw that too and they were worried.

"What happened to you?" Winnie asked over lunch when Y/N didn't even touch her food, she's usually a foodie.

Y/N gave her a tired look and shook her head. "I'm just tired."

"We can see that, dude. You have dark circles around your eyes." Jasmine said, as worried.

Y/N sighed. "Did you guys think I made the wrong decision? When I stood up for Mr. Miller?"

Winnie and Jasmine turned to one another, giving each other looks.

"I mean, what Cairo did was fucked up. She literally wrote a porn story between her and Mr. Miller." Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.

"However, I don't think Cairo's entirely at fault. I mean, she messed up but not entirely her fault." Winnie said, on the other hand.

Y/N groaned. "Maybe I should've just shut my mouth and let them do whatever to Mr. Miller."

"Hey, woah, hold up." Jasmine started, getting the attention of her friend. "You did what you thought was best, okay? Both of them fucked up, that's a fact. The other one stepped on the fine line, and the other one was led on. There's no winning in this situation."

"Whatever you did, you did it for them both. Struck two birds with one stone, as they say." Winnie said, holding Y/N's hand and squeezing it gently.

Y/N gave them a small smile and nodded. "Maybe I shouldn't really beat myself up with this one."

"Damn right, you shouldn't." Jasmine said, giving her an assuring smile.

After their class, she was already outside Cairo's last class, waiting for the girl to come out. When Cairo saw her, an immediate smile drew her face.

"What are you doing here? You should've gone home and got some sleep. Look at you." Cairo said, holding a gentle hand to Y/N's cheek to look at her face.

"Can I walk you home?" Y/N asked with a sheepish smile.

Cairo was shocked to say the least. She did not expect that. She was expecting Y/N to come around but not this fast. Still, she was happy about it.

"Sure." Cairo smiled, holding out a hand to Y/N to shake her head.

"That's reaching."

"Oh." Cairo said, a bit disappointed but she smiled it away.

"Come on."

The duo walked out of school together. They're all smiles and shit but still, Y/N cannot take her mind off her conversation with her mum. She might as well talk to Cairo now.

So when they got to Cairo's place, the brunette did not expect that Y/N would park her car on the fence and followed her to her front porch. The taller girl sat on the step and patted the space beside her.

"What's going on?" Cairo asked, sitting beside Y/N who gave her a smile.

The taller girl stayed quiet for a moment, contemplating. "I wanted to talk to you about what happened."

Cairo nodded. "What do you want to talk about?" She asked, wanting Y/N to start the conversation.

"I don't know. I just want to have clarity. I had a talk with my mum last night. It was a hard pill to swallow but, I guess it was needed."

""What happened to him? Your dad?" Cairo asked, glancing at Y/N who was looking at the trees ahead.

"My mum didn't tell you?" She asked, confused. She thought they spoke about her dad.

"Not all of it."

Y/N glanced at Cairo, contemplating if she should tell her about it or not. A part of her doesn't want to, because talking about it means relieving it and she hates that. She hates that she's going back to that time. But a huge part of her wants to let it all out, just throw it out there and forget about it all.

She chose the latter.

Y/N took a deep breath.

"I don't know when it started. My dad was really passionate about teaching. He was really good at what he did. He's a great father, you know? He was always present and attentive to my needs." Y/N started, smiling at the memory of her father in every soccer game, every recital, every academic competitions, everything. He was always there, always smiling and looking proud.

"One semester during sophomore year, he came home all happy and giddy, it wasn't unusual really. He was always happy and giddy. But this one's just different. He told us he had met this student in class, he thought she was brilliant." Y/N stopped for a moment, trying to calm herself down before she started crying and shouting.

Cairo noticed how hard it is for Y/N to continue so she held the taller girl's hand in her own and squeezed it. "You don't have to continue. I believe I got the gist of it."

Y/N shook her head and turned to Cairo with a pained smile. "I want to continue."

Cairo looked worried, but she nodded nonetheless. "Okay. But you can stop anytime." She gave out an assuring smile.

Y/N nodded, squeezing Cairo's hand gently. "He told mum and I all about this girl. We were amazed by her. So we told dad to bring her home one time so we could talk. He did. We had a barbeque one saturday, family's all there and she was there. I thought she was brilliant, she was so fascinating with all the things she knew. Little did we know, she would cause the biggest heart break to ever happen to us."

Y/N shook her head. "During the middle of the semester, my father started to act weird. He started getting drunk, not sleeping, he started being absent. One day he came home and told us he was let go of his job. My mum and I asked why, he never answered. The days after that, he became difficult. He would pick a fight with me and mum. He would get angry. He would get drunk, pass out on the couch. I slowly watched my father become a shell of what he used to be. He just stopped functioning."

Cairo could not help it anymore. She stood up and went in front of Y/N, hugging the girl in her arms tightly as she gently brushed Y/N's hair with her fingers, wanting the taller girl to know that she's there, that it's okay. Y/N leaned in Cairo's arms, sighing heavily.

"Then my mum knew about what happened. Turns out the girl orchestrated a plan for my dad to get fired. She invited my dad for coffee one time, asked a friend to take a couple of pictures that looked intimate. The school board didn't like it. Had an entire meeting about it. My dad tried to fight with all his might. Turns out when he started acting weird, that's when he was battling with those accusations. It took only 3 photos and one girl for my dad to lose everything. One day after I won a game, I showed my medal to my dad but he didn't say anything. Next thing I know, I was running to their room. Then I saw him, blood everywhere, his body unmoving. He was gone, Cairo."

This is the most Cairo has seen Y/N vulnerable. Now she understood perfectly why Y/N wanted to help Mr. Miller. What happened to her dad was unjust. So when told the school board that Cairo's accusations were baseless, this is what she meant. What happened to Y/N's father were baseless accusations.

So, she just stood there, holding Y/N in her arms, letting her let out all the frustrations and emotions she's bottled up the entire time.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x fem reader #cairo sweet x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #cairo sweet #tara carpenter #wednesday addams #miller's girl

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