#who framed art teacher? au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wttcsms · 9 months

Note

grumpy tenured professor Naoya x new, sunshine-y associate professor reader !!

lessons in intimacy, naoya zenin ;

pairing naoya zenin x f!reader word count 4.5k synopsis naoya zenin, phd, still has a lot to learn, and you are a surprisingly good teacher content contains fluff!!!, academia au, and they were office roomies!, naoya-centric, he bashes the arts </3

Learning Objective One: Notice Things About Your Partner

Naoya Zenin stares at the heart-shaped cake you left on his desk and refrains from going absolutely batshit.

He can feel the pinpricks of irritation poking his insides, making him curl his hands in annoyance. Two weeks prior, there was a staff meeting informing the business school that they would be sharing their classrooms and offices with the English professors since apparently, due to poor plumbing and a lack of funding, their shack of a school building got flooded and was therefore deemed “unsafe” and “unusable.”

Naoya distinctly remembers making a snide comment about how majoring in something as worthless as English or literature should be deemed a safety hazard and that the degree is basically unusable. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling everyone in the school to get a grip and let the entire English department just float away into a nearby swamp.

The business professors all agreed and considering that all of their students end up becoming wealthy alumni who donate money to ensure that their buildings don’t go under, Naoya doesn’t care about the enraged comments from the English department.

All his rude remarks seem to ensure that he’ll be left alone, which is exactly how he likes to be. It seems that he’s the most hated business school professor and no one is willing to share a space with him.

Because you are the youngest and newest member of the faculty, you end up being the unfortunate soul paired up with Naoya Zenin, PhD. When you first step into the office, big box filled with your printed lesson plans and desk supplies, he refuses to lend you a hand.

Instead, he sits back in his seat, staring at you with such an intense look in his eyes that you decide to look at anything but him, and he watches you struggle to maneuver around the tight space. Because of the funding, the business school offices are spacious, but to maintain some semblance of privacy, minor renovations were made. Crammed in a corner is a new desk meant for you. If he keeps staring daggers into your very soul, you’re going to make a request to have a room divider put in place so you can cower behind them and avoid his glare.

While your side of the office is small, you make it as unique to yourself as possible. There’s a Cinnamoroll plushie sitting on your desk, a cup holding glittery gel pens, and inside your desk drawers are scratch-‘n-sniff sticker sheets with colorful words of encouragement because the world has already beaten down your students enough — you might as well give them back some of their childhood enjoyment.

Naoya’s desk is vintage mahogany and rarely has anything sitting atop it unless he’s inside the office and on his laptop. Hanging on the wall behind him is his doctoral degree that is forever put on display in a massive, ostentatious frame. Naoya Zenin, PhD from Keio University. Economics, you recall him telling one of his colleagues. Because finance is the poor man’s idea of a prestigious field.

It doesn’t take a degree to know how Dr. Zenin feels about a degree in the arts.

Upon your first awkward meeting with Naoya (where he let you nearly trip and spill all your meager belongings onto his pristine office’s floors), you immediately head home and look at your new office buddy’s RateMyProf reviews.

⅕ OVERALL QUALITY BASED ON 986 RATINGS | 0% WOULD TAKE AGAIN | 5.0 LEVEL OF DIFFICULTY

Professor Zenin’s Top Tags

#lotsofhomework

#getreadytoread

#lectureheavy

#skipclass?youwon’tpass

Review 1: i dropped my econ major because of him. this wasn’t even supposed to be a weeder class

Review 2: DR ZENIN IS THE WORST PROFESSOR FOR ECONOMICS. HE MIGHT BE THE WORST PROFESSOR IN THE BUSINESS SCHOOL. HE MIGHT EVEN BE THE WORST PROFESSOR IN THIS WHOLE DAMN UNIVERSITY!!!!!! DO NOT TAKE HIM! I regret not taking everyone else’s advice and going with Dr. Gojo instead

Review 3: only redeeming quality is being hot, but he’s still an asshole

Review 4: Misogynist, doesn’t believe women can be leaders in the business world, has God awful takes that literally no one sane would agree with, teaches what HE thinks is right and refuses to acknowledge any opposing viewpoints, talks down on students, and that’s all i can say about him from the TWO DAYS i attended his class. i immediately dropped his course LOL

Review 5: Dr. Zenin’s rigorous coursework and unforgiving grading has prepared me for graduate school, and I still believe all the courses I had with him provided me with a better foundation than my other peers in my doctoral program. However, he did make my undergrad experience a miserable one. His lectures are hard to follow at times, and he creates his exams with the intent of making it unpassable. He’s the professor that you wonder why he hasn’t been fired yet.

You search for any positive comments about him, but it appears that the students hate everything about him, to his tests, his teaching style, and his personality.

In all honesty, it’s kind of sad. What must it be like, you wonder, to be so hated by the very students you’re meant to teach and inspire? You’re willing to give Naoya the benefit of the doubt — you know how one student’s misconception against a professor can paint a bad picture overall. Maybe Naoya is just a difficult person to understand! An undercover softie, if you will.

There’s no harm in trying to be friendly with him. After all, the two of you are going to be partners for the foreseeable future. You don’t have the energy to remain constantly on your guard around him.

You start off with little things, like burning candles in the office to fill it with sweet, welcoming scents. You offer to let him borrow your extension cord so his charger doesn’t have to bend all awkwardly when he plugs in his laptop. You make an effort to ensure that the classroom is clean before his class enters because that’s a courteous thing to do. You notice that when he eats his lunch on campus, he’s always unwrapping a sweet treat afterwards.

You can’t be a truly bad person if you have a sweet tooth, you rationalize.

So, you bake him little goods and leave them on his desk. When a week goes by and he doesn’t acknowledge your actions but the goods are always gone by the time lunchtime is over, you think you’re making progress. You notice that he seems stressed and annoyed every time he storms into the office, and so you start adding tiny notes of motivation alongside the goods, too.

Written on a pink sticky note that’s in the shape of a heart (probably to match the fucking miniature cake you baked), Naoya’s eye almost starts to twitch as he examines every loop and curve of the letters you personally handwritten for him.

I hope you have a great day today! Look on the bright side, you’re done with all your lectures for the week!

Naoya angrily takes a bite out of the cake as he waits for his laptop to turn on. The sugary sweetness does very little to alleviate his annoyance, but he can begrudgingly admit that the cake is good. Delicious, even.

This makes his scowl deepen.

How annoying, he thinks, tossing your note in the trash bin (not having the heart to crumple it up like he used to do with your previous notes). What are you, some kind of a stalker? How is it any of your business to know that Thursdays are his last days for teaching since business schools don’t believe in having class on Friday? And why do you always do that? Saying I hope?

“I’m not going to tell you what to do, Momo,” he remembers you telling your blonde-haired student. “But I hope you consider sticking with your creative writing major. We’ll lose a very talented student if you choose to go, you know.”

Naoya had let out a little snort of amusement at this. Who the fuck cares about whether or not students drop out? If they can’t handle the coursework, clearly they’re not cut out for the real world. He finds it annoying that you practically hold their hands, coddling them, always tacking on an I hope because you don’t want to demand people to do things. So much damn consideration, he wonders how you even survive in this big city. You’re probably the type of person who apologizes when someone else gets in your way at a busy store. You probably let yourself get cut in line. You definitely give money to panhandlers who are only posing as the homeless and needy.

Naoya wants to take joy in the fact that you are the type of person who could easily be taken advantage of, but as he finishes the cake you made for him, the idea of people purposely giving you a hard time just because you’ll take it lying down makes him feel even more irritated than before.

He takes out his frustration on his students. A first-year student emailed him asking for an extension, so Naoya tells them either they get it done by the original deadline, or he is more than willing to just give them the zero right now. In the real world, your boss and your clients will not give a single shit that you are hospitalized after being hit by a truck. Perhaps, if you used the brain inside your head and the eyes on your face, you would know better than to cross the road when a speeding truck is heading your way.

Then, he thinks that you would probably gladly give your students an extension if they asked. You’d probably even visit them in the fucking hospital, like the saint you think you are.

You’re so helpful to the point of your kindness being detrimental to your own wellbeing. You extend deadlines, and then have to beg and plead with the dean and bust your ass to get final grades in by the required date. All that struggle could have been avoided if you just gave the zero. You hear out your students, letting them speak their minds, and it cuts into your lecture time. Nobody is paying tuition to hear another student’s ramblings. And how long does it take you to bake him these desserts? It’s something different every day, always fresh, always seemingly made with care.

He doesn’t even know how you know he likes sweets. Lucky guess, he tells himself.

You see, Naoya knows that he is respected (somewhat) and feared (most definitely). He knows that he is not loved, not by his colleagues (who are all intimidated by him), not by his family (who thinks becoming a professor at a prestigious research university is dogshit when he should have been a global economist), not by his students (the university-mandated end-of-the-term class surveys are always sent to him). So to him, despite the ego he presents to the public, he cannot fathom the idea of someone noticing little things about himself. He definitely can’t imagine someone noticing and caring — it would honestly make more sense if they used private information against him.

He doesn’t think about you noticing him, and he refuses to think about all the things he subconsciously notices about you. He can recognize you by your perfume alone; someone had passed him by in the hall, and his eyes searched for your figure, only to be greeted by a student who just happened to favor the same fragrance as you. (He had snapped at the poor girl, telling her to walk faster or get out of the way.) He’s certain he knows the fucking HTML color code for the specific shade of lipgloss you’re always constantly applying in the office. One time, against his better judgment, he saves the place you’re at in your book. You had fallen asleep at your desk, your finger pressed on the page you were struggling to read, and then your head banged on the desk, hand slipping away. He doesn’t know why he didn’t leave you alone in the office; he had no business staying that late since none of his students were brave enough to turn in any assignments to be graded. There was an on-campus police alert the day before, though. Naoya rationalizes that he just didn’t want any criminals or deviants breaking into his office and destroying it. That’s all.

He actively avoids any thought of you, not realizing the irony of how, in his vehement attempts to ignore your existence, he is very much acknowledging you.

Learning Objective Two: Have Meaningful Conversations With Your Partner

“Why do you do that?” Naoya snaps, breaking the silence in the office.

Naoya is the type of person who does not simply say things — he snaps, he sneers, he smirks. And he has the exact tonation, voice, manner of speaking, of someone who grew up and was never told to shut the fuck up. With his current position in life, it seems like no one ever will.

“Do what?” You look up from the papers you’re grading, staring at him all doe-eyed and genuinely confused that Naoya discovers the unfortunate fact that he does, actually, possess a heart. An annoying one that gets all tight in his chest and starts beating against his rib cage every time you look at him. He’d charge you with a hospital bill from a top of the line cardiologist, but he knows you get paid like shit in comparison to him. Also, because he doesn’t like the idea of women spending money on his behalf.

“Give out pity grades.”

It’s like you’ll do anything in your power to not fail a student. You’re just pulling out participation points straight from your ass! And the comments — don’t get him started on the amount of comments you waste time leaving on your students’ papers. There’s a reason why his grades always get entered before deadlines. He’s efficient.

“And ruthless.” You tell him, after hearing him tell you all about his “efficiency.” “We’re here to help cultivate their minds. Get them to think. College shouldn’t be about getting grades based on your professor’s mood.”

Was that somehow an attack on him? He should be annoyed. Instead, he finds this side of you less annoying.

“I’m always in the same mood every time I grade.”

“Oh, yeah? And what’s that, vindictive?” You’re teasing him, and he wouldn’t let just anyone get away with such a comment. He’s bored, he tells himself. That’s why he’s entertaining this. Unlike someone, he doesn’t have anything left to grade.

“Nah. Irritated. They’re all idiots.”

You frown. “No student is an idiot.”

He gives you a look. “You teach English.”

“Intro to Classic Lit.” You correct him.

“Right.” He says this slowly. “Idiots.”

“Maybe yours, but definitely not mine.”

“Let's compare our students’ majors and potential earnings after graduation.”

Now it’s your turn to give him a look. “There’s nothing wrong with pursuing your passions.”

“Great. Do you tell them that when the cashier tells them their card declined? Or, does the passion end up paying the total? Are grocery stores accepting passion as a form of payment now?”

“Don’t be as mean as people say you are.”

His signature smug air of superiority momentarily dissipates at this statement. It’s not often that someone can get Naoya to shut up. To be bested by someone who grades using pink gel pens is so humbling, the only thing keeping him on his pedestal is the fact that he knows he’s the youngest tenured professor in this whole entire university and an acclaimed researcher (he always makes the list for top five most cited economic researchers). You’re fresh out of a doctoral program, and even being tenure-track would be a pipe dream for you.

“There’s nothing mean about being honest.”

“You can be honest without being mean.”

“It’s the truth. Students are idiots.” He shrugs, because what the fuck is he supposed to do about it?

“Then why become a professor?”

“Sweetheart, professors that work here are researchers first, teachers… no, not second. Maybe third? If they’re that dedicated to shaping young minds, or whatever fantasy you’ve got going on.”

“Well, I believe that the students are here to learn. And before you call them stupid again, that’s the great part about learning. You don’t have to be smart to do it.”

Growing up, Naoya had to be a lot of things, smart being one of them. No one in his household was ever capable of producing an ounce of empathy, and considering all the people he’s been surrounded by since his prep school, university, and internship days have all been raised in similar environments. The world is unforgiving. Naoya lives by the ever-so-poetic motto of “sucks to suck.”

He will go home and lay in bed and stare at the crown molding on his ceiling, and he will recall your sunny disposition. He wants to shame and berate you for being so damn optimistic, for believing in those words, and he will think to himself wouldn’t it be nice for it to be true?

Instead, right now, all he does is huff. The truth is, Naoya is well aware that his students aren’t stupid, even if he tells them that they are every time they’re in class and every time they dare to come to his office hours to debate their grades. They aren’t stupid in the booksmart sense, but they are very dumb when it comes to the real world, and Naoya considers it a ruthless kind of mercy that he exacts on them. They’re idiots because they have all the potential in the world and would rather waste their time on stupid shit and procrastinate on their assignments instead of putting forth any real effort.

If they tried, he would give them an A.

Learning Objective Three: Be Specific and Sincere With Your Praise

You’re crying.

In his head, Naoya tries to force himself to roll his eyes but finds his body unwilling to comply with the demands of his mind. He’s annoyed, but the irritation isn’t directed at you.

It’s at the man sitting across from you. Dr. Kimura got his PhD from Cambridge and thinks he’s hot shit, but out of pure curiosity, Naoya found his dissertation online and still uses it as free melatonin. Two paragraphs in knocks him out faster than a whole bottle of sleeping pills.

Dr. Kimura asks him to leave, into which Naoya reminds him that this is technically his office, and that Dr. Kimura is an intruder. Too much time spent with you in such a confined space has some of your little lessons rubbing off on him. Words are so important to you. Naoya decides that visitor and guest are too kind, too euphemistic, for Dr. Kimura. Call it like it is.

Kimura’s business for being here is to give you your first ever teaching evaluation. It’s actually just a poorly disguised attempt at trying to lowball professors’ salaries, but this is the type of schtick that only works on pushovers like you. Naoya leans back in his desk chair, arms crossed, and it’s obvious that he is going to be listening in on the whole entire ordeal. You’re embarrassed to be put on display like this, not knowing that he isn’t here to scrutinize you (for once), but rather he’s your backup.

Before things take a turn for the worse, you’re actually all smiles and sunshines and rainbows.

Stop smiling at him, Naoya thinks. He hates your smile. Hates it the most when it’s directed towards anyone but him.

Kimura begins with a compliment. That’s how all the professors in the arts are taught. Compliment sandwich! Praise, constructive criticism, more praise! What a fucking joke. Naoya thinks his way of handling things is much more efficient. Talk about all the stuff they need improvement on, and whatever isn’t corrected clearly is okay. Don’t you people know how to read in between the lines? Context clues ring any bells? Fuck, what did you all go to school for?

Disaster strikes, just as Naoya predicts.

“Listen, we know that this is your first year of teaching, and you’re still getting settled into your role of professor and not student, but clearly there’s some leniency when it comes to your grading…”

Kimura’s listing all sorts of shit. Grade inflation is what he claims one second, next he’s claiming you have subjective grading criteria. No other Intro to Classic Literature course has a similar class average to yours.

Kimura shakes his head, like he’s disappointed in you. Another tactic that would only work on someone as sweet as you.

“If this continues to be an issue, we may have to reconsider renewing your contract.”

And there are those waterworks Naoya is expecting.

The thing is, Naoya knows a bully when he sees one. Naoya knows all about being cruel just for the sake of being cruel. As cold, shriveled up, and worthless as it seems, Naoya does have a heart.

“That’s bullshit.” He inserts himself into the conversation. You’re staring down at your lap, twiddling with your fingers. Kimura turns to look at him.

“This is a private matter—”

“If it was private, you would have done it in your own office instead of mine.”

“This is a matter that concerns the English department, not yours, Dr. Zenin.”

He’s right. And yet—

“Have you even read any of her students’ papers?”

—Naoya is your backup.

“How is this relevant?”

“Read their papers. Read their first one versus their most recent one. Hell, read every single essay a student has turned in over the course. I guarantee you they deserve the marks she’s given them.”

“Their papers are filled with corrections and questions, and yet, she gives them an A.” Kimura knows all about Naoya’s reputation. He’s infamous. He’s the reason why everyone’s scared of majoring in economics. Naoya Zenin is the toughest grader there is.

“I’ve seen the mental state of your department’s students. She’s doing them a favor by not crushing them.”

“You’re saying they deserve those grades?”

“She lets them redo all their papers within a reasonable period of time and grades based on the overall improvement.” Naoya shrugs, like it’s just that simple. “I don’t see an issue.”

“She’s manipulating grades.”

“She’s giving them a second chance. I personally find that to be admirable.” Naoya is not lying. This is what makes you look up. “And she cares. I think she’s the only one of your faculty who gives a damn about whether her students are learning or not.”

Naoya doesn’t hate a lot of things because he doesn’t like giving certain things so much special attention, but he does dislike insincere people. People like Kimura are the worst because they hide behind fake niceties and table manners, but if you peel off their skin, they’re secretly lizards in disguise. At least in Naoya’s case, no one ever has the luxury of being shocked when he says something very mean and unpleasant because he will never filter himself or put on a mask that gives off the vibe that he practices civility.

As a matter of fact, Naoya has a nasty, serpent-like grin on his face as he locks in on Kimura, caging him in.

“After all, isn't that the point of becoming a professor, Dr. Kimura?”

Gotcha, you slimy bastard.

Learning Objective Four: Be Vulnerable, Put Yourself Out There

“Would you say I’m an asshole?” Naoya brings this up as he helps you pack up your belongings. He claims that it’s because he can’t wait to have his office all to himself again, but really, he’s starting to realize that lending a helping hand every once in a while can’t hurt. He hisses when a sharp edge from one of the many stacks of paper you possess cuts his finger.

That’s the last time he’ll ever help someone, he thinks bitterly.

“Not to your face.” You reply back, giving him a grin. He wants to take your smile and store it in a moving box and then keep that box underneath his desk and have it be one of his most prized possessions.

“Hm.” Then he tells you, “A student called me that.”

“To your face?” You look equal parts shocked, amused, and delighted. It’s a good look.

“No. RateMyProfessor.”

“Oh, I think I saw that one. They called you hot, right?” You’re busy packing up your sticker sheets and binders. Naoya wonders if he’s reading too hard into what you’re telling him.

“You’ve seen my reviews?”

“Of course I did. I looked you up on the Internet the day we became office roomies.” You throw this information out so nonchalantly that Naoya almost feels like he’s the weird one to have a reaction from it.

“You looked me up on the Internet?”

“Duh. Naoya, we live in a world where AI is writing essays for students. Of course, I would look you up online.”

“But why?” He presses you, latches on to the idea that there is a world where someone wants to look him up online and it’s not to find his home address so they can get revenge on him failing them.

“Because I wanted to know more about you, silly.”

It would be nice to be known. It’s already nice to have someone who wants to get to know you. Naoya Zenin does not settle in life, but he thinks he could settle for this and be content for the rest of his days.

Of course you would. He would say this, all snarky and egotistical, but he knows better. He won’t have an excuse to see your four times a week, won’t be cooped up in this office with you late in the night, won’t get to smell the remnants of your perfume when he’s up at the podium, lecturing his class. But there’s a chance that he could see you in different settings, too. Getting coffee together in between classes. Sitting next to each other during university-wide faculty meetings. Taking you out to dinner, because he’s reviewed your contract, and he’s not sure how you’re surviving financially.

“I would like that.” The words come out rushed, all jumbled and smushed together. He’s a grown man. He doesn’t blush. This is what he tells himself when he feels heat rise to his cheeks. “I would like for you to get to know me. And to learn more about you, too.” He swallows. Hard. “I sound stupid, I meant to—”

“It’s okay, Dr. Zenin.” You have the prettiest smile in the world. His dissertation should have been on that. “The fun part about learning is that you can still do it, even when you’re being stupid.”

#naoya zenin x reader #naoya x reader #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #fluff #drabble #one shot #college au

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heeverseblog · 2 years

Text

this time

synopsis: you confessed to jake sim in your senior year of high school but got rejected. now you’re a single mom in need of a math tutor to help your daughter pass math class. you happen to stumble upon jake’s profile and end up hiring him.

pairing: math tutor!jake x single mom!reader

genre: childhood acquaintances to lovers, single parent au, fluff, little bit of angst but happy ending

warnings: unrequited love (only at the beginning), mentions of early pregnancy, abandonment, fear of being in a relationship, one suggestive scene, short argument about career

word count: 11,359 words

note: THIS WHOLE STORY IS RUSHED AND NOT HEAVILY PROOFREAD, SORRY :((((

the first day you saw jake sim was at your school’s library. you were reading “anne of green gables” while he was reading a physics textbook. a freakin’ physics textbook. who reads a physics textbook at eight years old? apparently, jake sim does.

he looked so invested in reading formulas and his glasses were thick black-framed ones. you thought it was cute when he was sticking his tongue out as he was reading probably some formulas and terms. you forgot about gilbert blythe because that day, jake sim became number one in your “the cutest boys i’ve ever seen” list.

word was sent out that you had a huge, massive crush on jake sim. who wouldn’t know when you shout his name every time he passes by your way? you’d give him love notes saying how cute he looked with his glasses and how he has the cutest smile. every cringey, embarrassing thing a girl can do and call her crush just for him to notice her. yes, you’ve done it all.

when you became a teenager, you think that what you feel towards jake is more than just a crush. the longer you got to know him, the more you got to see how kind he was. when everyone was having a hard time understanding math, he’d write on the blackboard formulas and explaining when and where to use them. when a kid fell on his bike, he cleaned the wound and carried him to the school clinic, even when he was tired and sweaty from soccer practice.

one time, you were bored at math class. so you doodled the soccer field from your window. then your math teacher slams his hands on your table and proceeds to humiliate you on your artistic dreams. your colored pencils were confiscated and as shallow as it may be, you felt like a part of you was taken away after being humiliated.

while it was lunch time, jake came out of your classroom going with his friends, sunghoon and jay. you were still sad about what happened a while ago. when you sat down, you were surprised when you colored pencils were placed under your desk. you remember jake coming out of the classroom. you smile, realizing that you liked jake sim.

every girl fell on line in talking to jake sim. but you always made sure you were first. rumors spread that jake had a crush on the transfer student, kazuha. the rumors were confirmed when he asked her to the school dance. they danced that night but nothing bloomed. you noticed jake looked a little sulky the following week. and you thought that simply making him laugh like making funny faces or giving him cookies will make him feel better. and he did. jake was never mean to you. he still treats you kindly like everyone else. and you were fine with that. but you wanted to step your game.

a few weeks left and you will be graduating high school. so you wanted to confess to jake properly. you drew a banner with your confession, “jake sim, will you accept me?” you remember setting up the art room with lights. your art teacher was kind enough to allow you, knowing that you were her favorite student.

“jake sim, i’ve liked you since the day you were reading that textbook in the library. i’ve always liked you and it took me years to properly confess how I truly feel . so… you held out the flowers to him, “will you accept me?”

you felt like crying saying your confession. but you didn’t care. you gave him the peonies from your mother’s flower shop. when you thought will reach for the flowers, he held hands and slowly pulled them down. your face went down along with your hands.

“y/n, i appreciate what you have done…but,” jake looked down at the floor, “i don’t like you like that.”

you’d be lying to yourself when you say you’re not hurt. you tried your best not to blink or else the tears will come out of your eyes.

“oh. um…thank you for being honest.” you gave him a forced smile, feeling your eyes well up. on cue, the school bell rings, signaling it’s time for all students to get out of the building.

“i’ll see you tomorrow?”

jake nods, “see you tomorrow.”

you gave him a pat in the back before turning of the lights then ran out of the art room. you let the tears run down your face as the petals from the peonies fell, leaving a trail on the floor.

after a week, you received your high school diploma and off you to college you go. you and your friends took pictures together and you thought that it would be nice to walk around your school for one last time. from the classrooms, to the playgrounds, to the soccer fields. then you took one last glance at the art room, recalling the day you experienced your first heartbreak.

when you went back to your parents, they gave you a tight hug before giving you a bouquet. then you catch a glimpse of jake with his family. like yours, his parents were proud of him for finishing top of his class. your heart might have swelled a little but before you could feel it more, your dad said he’d take you and your mom out to dinner.

jake sim might not like you back but you were sure that he will be a good memory you can look back to.

“i’m sorry, mom.” your seven-year-old daughter tells you as both of you walked out of her classroom. apparently, she wasn’t the best at math class and her homeroom teacher was beginning to worry. but who were you to be disappointed when you were never the best at math either.

you kneel down, holding your daughter’s shoulders, “aera, we’re going to hire someone to help you, alright?”

aera pouts while nodding her head. you held her cheek, “sweetie, it’ll be alright. hm?” your daughter slowly nods her head then both of you went home.

you’re in an app searching for math tutors that look friendly but will help your daughter excel in class. it’s been an hour and you still haven’t found the right one.

“mommy, what’s for dinner?” aera says as she colors in her coloring book.

“we’re having spaghetti tonight, sweetie.” aera just nods her head and goes back to coloring. when you returned your attention to your phone, a familiar name popped up.

sim jaeyun: part-time physics teacher, part-time math tutor

sim jaeyun or known as jake sim when you were just a girl living in a small town. he was the boy you’ve had a huge crush on ever since you were eight years old. because of your silly crush on him, you confessed to him a week before your high school graduation. but he didn’t like you that way.

admit it or not, jake is a strong candidate. aside from attending the same school as kids, jake was best in math and physics and had a good reputation for being a math wizard.

unconsciously, you tapped the hello! are you available for a meet-up? option.

“shit!” you stand up from the couch.

“mom, that’s a bad word,” aera says while coloring her coloring book at the dinning table.

“you’re right, sweetie. mommy is sorry.” you say and kneeled to reach your daughter’s height. you smile, thinking that your daughter takes after you in her interest in drawing and coloring. she’d always ask you for coloring books, sometimes crayons if her old ones kept breaking. then one time you gave her the 64 crayons that you’ve always wanted as a kid.

“mommy, look!” aera colored the tiger pink.

“that’s wonderful, baby!” aera goes back into coloring while you prepare your dinner.

while you were cooking your spaghetti, your phone beeps and you received a message.

hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

you reply, it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

you take a deep breath and typed your full name.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake: oh wow! how are you doing?

y/n: i’m doing well right now.

jake: that’s good to hear!

jake: about your daughter, where exactly does she need help in math?

y/n: if it’s not too much to ask, she needs help in everything.

jake: oh no problem! are you available to meet-up?

y/n: sure! will send you the details soon.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

“oh no!”

you immediately put your phone down and got the pot away from the stove with smoke coming out of it.

you told jake to meet you at this café that is somewhat near where you lived and where jake is residing. it’s been long since you last saw jake and your last encounter with him was at the art room with a banner and lights where you confessed. then he rejected you.

you were holding tight on your cup of coffee. after you told jake where you were seated, you were expecting to meet him anytime soon. and that thought made you more nervous.

“y/n?”

your organs did somersaults when you hear his familiar voice. and when you turn around, you were also greeted with a familiar face.

“j-jake. hi.”

jake still wore glasses. difference is that they were no longer thick black-framed ones but specs. aside from that, he did not change much. he still looked as gentle like before.

“sorry to keep you waiting. one of my students needed help.”

“no worries. please, take a seat.”

jake sits at the seat across you. he places his bag on the floor then he returns his gaze at you.

“sorry i didn’t order anything for you yet. i didn’t know what you liked.”

“it’s okay. so, your daughter needs help?”

“yeah, aera, she…she has trouble understanding problem-solving equations. has a hard time memorizing the multiplication table too, apparently.”

some part of you felt awkward that your daughter got her weakness in math from you. and jake knew that.

“do you have any worksheets from her class?”

“oh, yes,” you bring out the sheets if paper from your bag and gave it to jake. he reviews the papers and you felt déjà vu, remembering the day you first saw him in the library while reading a physics textbook.

“i see the problem here. she mixes the formulas and interchanges them.”

“is she…does she need extreme hands on help?”

“i can’t say yet but if i tutor her soon, i'll let you know the progress.”

“thank you…” you pause, not knowing to call him mr. sim, teacher sim, or just by his name.

“sorry,” you let out an awkward laugh, “i just don’t know how to address you?”

“jake is fine. i mean we went to the same school.”

“okay. thank you, jake.”

“thank you, too. y/n.” then jake gets his bag.

“you’re leaving?”

“yeah, i have to do some tasks first. but let me know when i can tutor her.”

“sure thing. see you soon?”

jake nods, “see you soon.” then he leaves the café.

you and jake agreed that he will tutor aera from 2 pm to 5 pm every thursday and friday. at first, aera is shy to meet a new person but you assured her that her new tutor is a friend of yours. and she promised that she will behave.

the doorbell rang and as you expected, jake was outside.

“hi.”

“hi. i hope i’m not too early.”

“oh, no. you came just in time. come on in.”

when you let jake in your unit, you told him to wait by the living room while you call aera by her bedroom.

“sweetie, your tutor is here. come and say hi.”

when aera came out of her room, her shyness aent away.

“aera, this is jake. he’s going to tutor you at math. say hi, sweetie.”

“hello!” aera waves to jake to which he found adorable and softly giggles.

“it’s nice to meet you, aera.”

“mommy says you’re her friend. i call aunt yujin and aunt gaeul aunties because they’re mommy’s friends. can i call you uncle jake?”

“aera…”

“uncle jake sounds nice.” jake said with a smile on his face.

“do you want us to start, aera?” jake asks and aera nods before pulling jake to the dining table.

before jake and aera started their tutor session, you asked permission from jake if you can stay by your room with the door open. and he was kind enough to understand that you were careful with aera.

surprisingly, jake and aera got along well. aera had a hard time understanding the formulas and comprehending problems but jake was very patient with her. you always knew that jake would be a great teacher but you never knew that day will actually come true.

“okay, so when you add 4 and 7, you’ll be transferring the other one here, to 6. so it becomes 7. then you add 7 and 2. and what’s the answer?”

“91?”

“good job, aera!” then jake did a high five to aera before circling the worksheet with his red pen.

“uncle jake, can you be my math teacher instead? you’re nicer than mrs. im.”

“did you know that mrs. im was also my math teacher. your mom and i were her students.”

“it means that she’s old! no wonder why she’s so grumpy.”

“aera, what did we say about bad mouthing people?” you say from the kitchen as you start preparing your dinner.

“it’s not going to make us different from them.”

“that’s right.”

jake softly laughed at your statement, “okay, aera. that’s all for today. if you still need help next time, we can always go back. but try studying on your own too, okay?”

“okay, uncle jake!”

jake starts packing his things then you and aera see him out.

“uncle jake, thank you for teaching me today. you’re so nice and i had fun.”

“you’re welcome, aera.”

aera looks up at you, “mommy, say thank you, too.”

you rub aera’s shoulders, “yes, ma’am,” then faced jake, “thank you for helping aera today. really.”

“you’re welcome,” jake looks down at aera, “i’ll see you tomorrow, okay kiddo?”

“see you tomorrow, uncle jake!” aera waves and jake gives her a smile before he leaves.

months have passed since jake tutored aera. the process wasn’t easy at first since aera is really having a hard time understanding math. but as jake promised, he updated you that aera is still in need of help to improve. and you were grateful that he was patient with her, despite being exhausted from being a teacher at school.

most days, aera was excited for her tutoring sessions. she even boasts how she has a good tutor and jake’s her favorite teacher slash uncle. and you have to admit, it was cute.

today, you were busy finishing an illustration for a children’s book. most of the time, you sell your works online or have clients contact you for commissions. it wasn’t a stable job but you had to earn for you and your daughter. and thank god, your clients paid you well.

in the middle of working, you received a message from yujin, saying that there will be a class reunion at the town hall two months from now. you didn’t know if you’ll be able to go but you might if your friends are going.

yujin: so how’s the tutoring going on?

y/n: it’s going pretty well, actually. jake is really patient with aera and he always make sure that she understands what he’s teaching her

gaeul: you know…it’s not too late to re-live high schaer

y/n: eh???

yujin: she means to shoot your shot

y/n: very funny guys -_-

y/n: jake is just tutoring aera and he’s just doing his job

gaeul: 👀

yujin: if you say so 🤪

y/n: gotta get ready. i’ll be picking up aera in a bit and jake will be arriving after.

yujin: ooooh y/n is getting ready for her date.

y/n: OH PLEASE 😡

you roll your eyes before locking your phone and turning off your tablet.

when you were done getting dressed, the doorbell rang and when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake.

“hi, jake. i was just about to pick-up aera from school.”

jake scrunches his forehead then looks at his watch, “oh,” he lets out a laugh, “my class ended early and i might have thought i was late. i can come back later.”

“oh no, please. do you want to come with me and pick-up aera? she’ll be glad to see you.”

“sure.”

“great. let’s go.”

during the car ride, you and jake didn’t say a word. it was either you were busy watching the road or avoiding talking to him.

“so how have you been?”

“hm?”

“i mostly see you during tutoring sessions but we never really…'talked.’”

“oh, uh…well today was fine. i’m currently doing an illustration for a children’s book. not halfway done but I’m making progress. you?” you liked to jake before immediately returning your attention to the road.

“one of my students said that physics was useless and why do we need to study how fast a frisbee can travel.”

you try holding your laugh but jake caught you so you retort, “sorry it’s just that a kinda remember myself. and well, i couldn’t help my daughter in her math homework.”

it was silent again and all you could hear was the tires and the car engine.

“for what’s worth, aera is a good kid.”

you smile at jake’s comment and looked at him for a while, “thanks.”

“we’re here.”

“it’s been a while since i saw this place.”

you spot aera waiting at the waiting area and when she sees your car, she stands up and waits for you. and when you and jake got out of the car, she immediately runs to jake, hugging his leg.

“uncle jake, you’re here!”

jake giggles, “it’s good to see you too, kiddo.” then he rubs aera’s head like usual.

“don’t i get a hug?”

“mommy!” aera opens her arms and then you carry her. she gives you a kiss.

“let’s go home?” you asks and aera nods.

the three of you went to the car. aera was still happy that jake was with you to pick her up.

“uncle jake, can you come and pick me up next time?”

“aera, uncle jake has classes to teach. you can still see each other during tutoring sessions.”

aera pouts at what you said. jake looks back, “how about i bring you ice cream next week?”

aera smiles, “yes, please!”

“you might spoil her with too much sweets.” you nag.

“can it be mint chocolate, please?”

jake’s eyes grew wide then he looks at you and back at aera, “you really are your mother’s daughter.”

“hey mint chocolate deserves to be respected,” you defend.

“not when it tastes like toothbrush.”

“that’s mean!” you and aera say in unison.

throughout the whole ride, three of you were still bickering about mint chocolate being the superior ice cream flavor. you never thought that someone could actually get along with you and your daughter’s antics. and you liked it.

“i’m sorry for the overtime, jake. but don’t worry, i’ll increase today’s payment session.”

exams were coming and aera needed help in studying. you felt bad that you had to ask jake to stay for a while but you promised him that he’ll be compensated more than his usual pay.

“it’s alright. besides, aera needed help.”

“why don’t you stay for dinner? you might be hungry.”

“oh, no. i couldn’t.”

“no, really. it’s the least i can do for thanking you.”

“if you insist then,” jake places his bag down the chair, “dinner would be great.”

and dinner was going great. aera told jake herself that jake was her favorite teacher. and jake felt honored. aera kept telling stories of her school life and how she made friends. then aera tells how

“you know, your uncle jake helped everyone in math before. he’s a math wizard.”

“uncle jake, did you help mom math too?”

“i did. she got the 4th highest grade in our math exam.”

“and of course, your uncle jake got the highest grade.”

jake does this hand gesture where he says “oh please.”

“is my mom hard to teach?”

you and jake laughed, “well…let’s say you’re a fast learner than your mother.”

“mommy, i’m better at you in math!”

“i can’t believe you two are teaming up against me,” then you pretend to get shot at the heart and jake and aera laughed at your antics.

after dinner was done, aera became sleepy. she promised that she’ll finish her homework tomorrow. you let her sleep early because she looked exhausted.

“goodnight, uncle jake.” aera says then yawns.

“goodnight, kiddo. you did well today.” jake kneels down and aera hugs jake. you were surprised but jake returned the hug, the sight melted your heart.

“okay, sweetie. uncle jake has to go home and sleep too.” aera pulls away from the hug and then you tell her to get her clothes and take a shower.

“bye, uncle jake.” aera says before getting inside the bathroom.

when it was just you and jake alone, you looked into each other and laughed.

“aera will be sleeping well tonight.”

“yeah, looks like it.”

“hey,” you pause for a while, “thank you. for helping aera. she hasn’t been this happy for a while.”

“thank you for letting me stay.” for some reason, your heart fluttered, “for dinner.”

“oh,” then you let out a chuckle, “you’re welcome.”

you and jake let out another chuckle. and it might seem cringey but you didn’t care. because right now—this felt right. you looking to his eyes, and him doing the same. almost like you didn’t want him to leave.

“i, uh…” jake coughs, “i should probably go.”

“oh. yeah…right. drive safely.”

jake nods before he opens the door, saying goodbye before leaving.

when you closed the door, you let out a breath you realized you haven’t been holding. you’ve replayed how jake looked at you just a while ago. and every time you remembered his face, your heart would beat fast. when you remember him being a good friend to aera, you couldn’t help but melt at his gentleness towards your daughter.

“mommy?” aera walks out of the bathroom with a towel on her shoulders, “are you sick?”

“huh? oh. no, no sweetie.”

“your face is red.”

“it’s just hot sweetie. let’s tuck you to bed, okay?”

after tucking aera to bed, it was your turn to get ready for bed. and when you thought you’ll be able to sleep peacefully, days of jake bonding with your daughter flashed in your mind again. he hated mint chocolate but when he promised to bring a tub of it, he ate it with you and aera. he finished a cup of it and didn’t think of spitting it out or drinking water to cleanse his tongue. one time, when you gave him a glass of water, your fingers touched and you immediately pulled away.

you kept tossing and turning all night. it was like you were your old self, gushing over jake in the smallest things. though this time, you had a daughter. and jake treats her so well that you couldn’t help but smile and melt.

and you wore that smile until you slept peacefully at night.

lately, you’ve been having headaches while feeling muscle pains. when you took a temperature test, it showed that you had fever. you immediately called yujin, saying you needed help to take care of aera. you couldn’t ask your parents help because they have a store to take of at home. besides, you didn’t want them to take a bus all the way here to the city. you were just thankful that yujin was happy to babysit aera while you we sick and you said that you were fine with being alone for now. you told jake about your sickness and aera’s tutoring sessions will be cancelled for now. he hopes for you to get better soon.

“remember to listen to aunt yujin, alright?”

“mhm!”

“and you don’t keep her waiting when she comes to fetch you.”

“yes, mommy!”

“don’t forget to finish your homework, alright? especially math.”

“yes, mommy!” you smile at your daughter then shift your attention to yujin, “thank you for doing this.”

“aera and i will have a good time, don’t worry,” yujin soothes aera’s head.

“i’m going to miss you, sweetie.” sadly, you couldn’t kiss aera goodbye.

“i’m going to miss you too, mommy!”

“okay sweetie, you’re going be late for school.”

aera and yujin say their goodbyes and you were left alone in your home. you lied down on your bed, with a glass of water beside you. you wrapped yourself in your blanket, hoping that it’ll stop you from shivering.

hours have passed and what you’ve been doing is eating, cleaning the used dishes, drinking medicine, and sleeping. you couldn’t wait to get better but you still felt sick and weak.

you were covered in your blanket when your doorbell rang. you wondered if it was yujin but she must be at home this hour, watching over aera.

you wore your mask before getting the door. when you opened it, you were surprised to see jake holding a stainless-steel lunchbox.

“oh, jake. hi.”

“i, uh…i made us some dinner. i made you soup.” jake raises the lunchbox, “i just thought you needed something to warm you up.”

you couldn’t help but melt at jake’s words. he really has this talent of turning small things into something big. and it made your heart flutter.

“come on in.” you opened the door for jake and let him in like always.

“i’ll just get us some plates.” then jake holds your shoulder, “i’ll do it. you can lie down and rest.”

you nod, “okay.” you were about to enter your room but you turn around, “plates and bowls are in the upper right cabinet.”

“got it.”

“and the spoons—” then jake shows you that he found the utensils on the other side of the cabinet.

“i’ll…” you point to your room and jake assures you that he’s got it covered.

you never let anyone in your home aside from your friends and parents. yujin and gaeul have always been pestering you to go on blind dates but you never did. letting someone else in your life was making you a little doubtful. but you were glad that jake is someone you knew and looks trustworthy.

“hey,” jake enters with a tray of the food he brought. you sit up then jake places the tray in front of you.

“what’s tonight’s main course?”

“well, we have ramyeon with ham, boiled eggs, and green onions.”

“sounds delicious.”

“here,” jake scoops some soup and gently blows it before bringing the spoon close to your mouth. you take the soup in your mouth and you smile, “that’s good soup. give my compliments to the chef.”

jake softly laughs, “will do.”

and jake proceeds to feed you the noodles and other toppings. you felt shy every time you couldn’t take the food in your mouth, especially if they were noodles. but jake didn’t judged you. when you were almost done, you drank the remaining soup left.

“you good?”

you nod, “mhm! thanks for the food. how about you?”

“i already ate, don’t worry.” you nod then you drank your medicine.

“um…jake?”

“yeah?”

“thank you for coming over.”

jake smiles, “you’re welcome. you can sleep if you want to.”

“hm? aren’t you…don’t you need to go home and do other things?”

“if it’s alright with you…could i stay for a while? i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

you couldn’t find the right words to say. jake sim, your highschool classmate, childhood crush, your daughter’s math tutor—is willing to nurse you.

“are you sure?”

“if it’s alright with you. because,” jake slowly brings his hand to your forehead. when you realized what he wanted to do, you leaned forward, letting his hand touch your forehead.

“you’re still burning up.”

the thought of jake sim touching your forehead still causes you to become speechless. when he lets go, you pretended to not be bothered at all.

“are you sure you’ll be okay? i’m a heavy sleeper.”

“i don’t mind. sleep all you want.”

jake takes the tray and helps you fix your pillow, tucking you inside your blanket.

“goodnight, y/n.”

you smile, “goodnight, jake.”

jake was by your side until the day you got better. he cooked you food and let you rest. you felt guilty that he had to nurse you but he wanted to do it wholeheartedly. and your heart fluttered.

you confessed to aera that her uncle jake has been taking care of you while she was away. she was jealous at first because she wanted to take care of you. but you explained to her that you didn’t want to get her sick. she came to her senses and thanked jake that he took care of you. yujin, though, was protective at first but she proceeded to tease you about it.

though lately you’ve realized, your attraction on jake sim was coming back. but this time, you were starting to see him in a different light. he has always been selfless, kind, and gentle but him showing those actions to your daughter made you like him more. but of course, you couldn’t tell him directly how you felt. things were different now that you’re a mom and he’s your daughter’s math tutor.

you’d rather hide your feelings than accept a rejectin. you’ll be reminded that things that come into your life are temporary.

today, you were going to take aera out to a museum for kids. why? because she got a high score in her math exam. while you were sick, aera managed to study on her own and remember the lessons she had with jake. you called jake and told him the news and he felt so proud of her.

“mommy, can uncle jake come with us?”

“i don’t know, sweetie. but i’ll call uncle jake first, okay?” aera nods her head vigorously.

jake’s phone continued ringing and you waited for him to pick-up the call.

“hello, y/n?”

“hey, jake.”

“hi, uncle jake!” aera says and you hear jake laugh.

“aera says hi.”

“well, what’s up?”

“oh…you see, i’m taking aera out today. and we were wondering—i mean she was wondering if…if you wanted to come with us.”

you shake your head, feeling anxious if jake caught you. but that worry disappeared when jake replies, “sure, i mean i’d love to.” and he sounded full of glee.

“g-great! we’ll pick you up then?”

“oh, no. i’ll pick you guys up.”

“oh. but—”

“no, really. i want to pick you guys up.”

“oh,” again, jake’s doing the smallest things can become big. “okay, we’ll be ready by then.”

“okay. see you later.

“see you later.”

never in a long time has jake sim thought that he’ll be meeting y/n again. not in a million years has he also expected to meet y/n’s daughter.

jake sim was just having a regular day: teaching physics at school, checking their papers, and create lesson plans. he goes home, continues checking papers, finishes his lesson plan, and reads more textbooks whether it be math or physics. finally, he washes up, does a little bit of social media, then goes to bed.

jake was used to getting compliments of him being a math genius. many expected him to be a scholar, a professor, an engineer, or a physicist. but it wasn’t that easy. believe it or not, jake sim couldn’t seem to know where he can fit in. he was the golden boy from high school but after he graduated, he became lost and unsure. but he did know he loved math and physics alongside ramyeon noodles.

jake sim does his daily routine when suddenly, he receives a message. he puts his papers down and checks his phone.

hello! are you available for a meet-up?

then he replies, hello there! may i know who i’ll be tutoring?

the sender didn’t reply. he thought that it was the usual ones who reply after an hour or two so he goes back to checking his papers.

after a while, the sender replied.

it’s my seven-year-old daughter. she needs help in math.

jake returns his attention to his phone.

jake: oh i see. may i know who i am speaking with?

the sender sends a familiar name. then jake remembers a girl he frequently heard in school.

jake: y/n? did we go to the same school together?

y/n: yup! same school since 2nd grade to high school.

jake felt like catching up with an old friend. he might have not known you that much but he knew your reputation of being one of his admirers and that you were full of spirit with a good personality. though he did remember you causing some trouble but you weren’t the bad student type. in fact, he remembers you giving him compliments on sticky notes.

jake: great! looking forward to meeting you.

y/n: looking forward to meeting you too.

fast forward to the day jake was going to meet you. it was only a casual meet-up about agreements and how he’ll help your daughter pass math class. he noticed that you seemed worried about your kid but he assured you that he’ll try his best to help her.

and when he met her, he couldn’t help but soften up. meeting aera was like a breath of fresh air to his regular students. aera was willing to listen and learn on her lessons. she was very sweet and fun to be with. her spirit reminded him of yours when you were younger.

“uncle jake, i drew this picture for you.” aera gives him a drawing of him, reading books on the table with a blackboard behind him that had math equations.

“you really drew this?” jake asks amazed at your daughter’s drawing skills.

“mhm! because you’re my favorite teacher and i like you.”

jake couldn’t help but smile at aera. the kid was too cute and sweet to do such a thing. he heard you walking from the kitchen, and you had some biscuits placed inside a bowl.

“for the both of you.”

“thank you, mommy.”

jake notices how aera says “thank you” whether it be small or big actions. he liked that about a kid. but then again, he notices that you do the same. and he can’t help but think that you really are a good mother.

ever since jake met you and aera, his routine might have become longer than before. but he didn’t mind one bit. not when he can get to help you and aera.

jake’s first reaction of you getting sick was that he got worried. the thought of you sick in bed, alone in your home almost made him loose his mind at class.

“i just figured that you need someone to take care of you right now.”

he knew that you got stressed and tired from taking care of aera. he couldn’t imagine how you managed to get through it in seven years. and he wanted to take care of you.

jake might have had had encounters with women but they weren’t any serious. in his defense, he only went on dates so that sunghoon can stop pestering him.

his bond with you and aera’s was different. the only connection you and jake had was that you both went to the same school. now, you don’t have any status aside from the fact that he’s a math tutor. but he liked it when you ask them how they’re doing and give you snacks. something about your smile and warmth makes him feel comfortable and excited at the same time.

right now, he felt happy feeling that you’re letting him be part of your mother and daughter time.

“uncle jake, have you ever been to a museum?”

“i have. your mother and i went to one in a field trip.”

“mommy says that we’re going to a museum filled with drawings.”

“that sounds fun. you excited?”

“mhm! and it’s more exciting because you’re here.”

jake looks at you, smiling at the interaction. throughout the whole ride, he’s been noticing that you’ve been smiling and giggling the whole ride. and he couldn’t help but gush over it.

the moment the three of you came into the museum, aera couldn’t help but become excited. you let aera be happy and excited but not too much or she’ll break some displays.

you took a picture of aera at the interactive displays. jake took pictures of you and aera, you doing vise versa when aera wanted a picture with him. then aera says that she wanted to have a picture with the three of you. when jake looked at the picture, he couldn’t help but think the three of you looked like a family.

“uncle jake, look! you look like my daddy.”

aera’s words affected both of you. jake has always noticed that your bond with you and aera has changed. but he never noticed that it was beyond that. until now.

“sweetie, let’s go to the mannequins, hm?”

“okay!”

then you carry aera and the two of you happily walk to the mannequins. aera was giggling at how the living mannequin gave her a flower.

suddenly, jake saw you carrying a baby in a living room. then aera comes running to you, and you show her the baby. “here’s your little sister, you say.” then you look at jake, “honey.” aera calls him, “daddy!” then runs to his direction.

“jake!”

he blinks when you called him.

“let’s go?”

“uh, y-yeah. i’ll be right there.”

you had a great time day today. aera was happy to spend her day with you guys and you were happy that she’s happy. jake’s company also made you feel happy. you thought that today’s trip would only be you and aera but with jake, it became a memorable one that you’ll never forget.

aera was sleeping peacefully at the back. you and jake were still awake but both of you were tired.

“she had fun, didn’t she?” jake asks, his eyes focusing on the road.

“she certainly did.

“who knew that she can run so fast?”

“one time, i had to chase her for thirty minutes in a playground. couldn’t catch up with her.”

“she reminds me of you. when we were eight.”

“oh please. anyone can barely put up with my energy.”

“it’s one of the best things about you.”

once again, jake sim made your heart flutter. when the car stops, jake looks at you and you avoid his gaze.

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah. i might have passed it down too much. you might have a hard time catching up with us.”

“i don’t mind. i can catch up just fine.”

then the light turns green and jake starts driving again. you were clutching your hand to your chest. your heart was beating fast that you could barely breathe. you hoped that your heart will have mercy until you got home.

minutes later, you arrived at your home. jake said he can carry aera all the way up to your unit.

you opened the door to aera’s room and jake slowly lies her down. you stand by the doorway and watch jake tuck her in and rub aera’s forehead before he leaves the room. both of you take one last glance at aera before you closed the door.

“thank you for tucking her in. and driving us home.”

“you’re welcome.”

just like the other night, you and jake were standing by the door, staring at each other. both of you didn’t say anything but give each other a look. you recognized that look because you had that look from when you were young and when you met jake again. some part of you felt scared. you never let anyone else in your life, after being left with a baby to raise on your own. but that other part was telling you that you felt happy and excited by letting someone in your life again. when all he showed you was you were worth taking care of.

“jake, i—”

jake didn’t let you finish when his lips landed on yours. his mouth molded perfectly in yours and you couldn’t help but kiss back. jake grabs your nape and the action made you sharply inhale. both of you kissed faster and tried catching each other’s lips. realizing that you’re standing in front if your daughter’s door, you pull away.

“she might hear us.” you whisper and before jake could say anything, you pulled him to your room.

when both of you got inside, you lean at the door and jake kisses you again. this time, you pulled him down by wrapping your arms around his neck. you tried catching your breaths before diving back into each other’s lips. jake slides his hand down to your waist and you let out a whimper. he took that signal as a sign to take off his coat and pull you with him.

you ended up being on top of jake and both if you giggled. you took off your jacket and before you knew it, jake was on top of you. he goes back to kissing you and holding your waist, as you held the sides of his face. jake’s lips left yours as he brushes it to your cheeks, down to your jaw, then down to your neck.

you let out a sigh, feeling euphoria. his touch was gentle and you yearned for it. you pull jake closer and he continues his magic. he slides his hands up then behind your back. you pull jake up and kissed again. he slows his movements this time, getting the rhythm that you wanted.

then realization hit you. this feeling was familiar and the thought was scaring you. the last time you felt this kind of attraction, that person was temporary in your life. you knew that jake was too. eventually, you and jake will part ways when his task is done.

“jake…” you say when you pull away. but jake doesn’t hear you and latches his lips on your neck again.

“wait. jake, stop.”

then jake finally hears you and his eyes looked worried.

“did i hurt you?”

“no. no, no. i…”

you couldn’t look at him in the eye. when you stood up, you brushed your hair back and looked at anywhere else.

“is everything okay?”

“i’m sorry. i don’t…”

you covered your face out if embarrassment, along with fear.

“y/n?” jake holds your arm. his touch made you slowly uncover your face.

“are you okay?”

“i’m…i’m scared.”

jake looks at you with his soft eyes. he places his hand on your cheek and you can feel the tears falling from your eyes.

“oh, no. don’t cry.”

but you did. you let yourself be pulled by jake’s embrace. jake calms you down by rubbing your back.

“everything is going to be alright. i'm here.”

for the first time, you’re actually believing those words.

after crying and staying silent for hours, you finally had the courage to tell jake your sturggles.

“I met this guy in college. he was a year older than me but we took the same class.

“we went on a few dates before we became official. we had a plan. we graduate, gets jobs, get married, and eventually start a family.

“getting drunk at the graduation party was not part of it. getting pregnant after the party—not at all.”

jake continues to hold your hand as both of you lie down on your bed. he let you rest your head on his shoulder as you tell your story. jake sympathized with you, waiting for you to finish what you wanted to say.

“i told him but he said he was sticking to his plan. so he’s completely out of the picture and i raised aera on my own.

“ever since then, i was so scared of letting anyone in my life again. it scares me.

“i’m sorry.”

jake puts his hand on your cheek and you face him.

“don’t be. you’re allowed to feel what you feel.”

you give jake a smile, still feeling your eyes swell. but you were thankful that jake was very understanding.

“thank you for listening.”

“thank you for telling me.”

jake soothes your back and you didn’t notice that you fell asleep in his arms.

after that night, you and jake exchanged “hi’s” awkwardly. but you tried your best not to show aera or let it affect you and jake’s agreement.

weeks passed, you and jake grew out of your awkward phase and became more comfortable eith each other. but he never forced you to start anything with him. he continued being a great father-figure to aera.

you can say that what you had was unlabeled but a part of you knows that you were starting to fall in love with jake. but you were afraid to tell him.

you were just washing the dishes after jake and aera finished their cakes. then aera’s question made you stop.

“uncle jake, if i get a high grade in math, does that mean you won’t be going here anymore?”

“of course not, kiddo. why would you think that?”

“because after i get a high grade, you won’t be teaching me anymore.”

“well, yes…because you already know how to do math. but…” at this point, you were looking at jake then he continues, “it doesn’t mean i'll stop visiting you.”

“really?”

“really.”

then aera hugs jake and he hugged her back.

“if you ace the final exam, we’ll eat mint chocolate ice cream together.” then jake looks at you.

“okay!”

aera did her best and jake was beyond proud of her. you were too. you were proud for the both of them. seeing jake with aera, you thought that he can be more than a father-figure. you knew that both of them have a special bond that is more than a tutor and student.

the next days, jake was starting to stay at home longer. he was so familiar with the place that he remembers where you keep your plates and utensils. one time, the three of you played monopoly and you didn’t remember how long you played because the three of you were having fun. jake declared himself as the winner even though there is no real winner in monopoly.

some nights, you and jake would tuck aera together and she liked it. she never complained about having a father but with jake becoming part of your lives, it was like a dream come true for her.

“i don’t know if me hanging out longer looks like i'm invading your home.”

“i don’t mind. besides, we like having you around.”

you and jake were alone in the living room. drinking a glass of wine while having late night conversations.

“do you maybe…want us to go out sometime? just the two of us.”

“yeah. i’d love that.”

“great. it’s a date then.”

you were surprised but you liked it.

“yes, jake. it’s a date.”

you lean on the couch with the glass on your right hand. jake leans in the couch too, looking at you softly.

“it’s weird though.”

“what is?”

“that i never got to see how amazing you are. you’re not just the girl who causes trouble or teachers dislike for drawing in class.”

“to be fair, i never realized how good you are with kids. it’s making me hard not to fall for you.”

you didn’t know if it was the alcohol. but you suddenly confessing your feelings for jake sim was somehow déjà vu.

“i’ll, uh,” you put down your glass, “i’ll make us some coffee.”

you stand up and was about to go to the kitchen when jake pulls you around and kisses you. you kissed him back, tasting the red sine you just drank. jake holds your cheek and you lean forward, holding his waist.

when you pull away, your eyes were still closed but you can feel jake’s breath on your lips.

“i love you.”

you open your eyes and jake was smiling at you. His cheeks were red. might be from the wine or from the proximity and confession he just said.

“i’m not drunk am i?”

jake smirks, “i don’t think so.” then kisses you again, and you pull him closer.

“thank you for accepting me.” you whisper at his lips.

“no. thank you for accepting me.”

who would’ve thought that a bottle of red wine was all you needed for the perfect confession. but for now, you needed to make two cups of coffee so you and jake can have a proper conversation.

when you told aera the news, you told her that you loved jake like how anne loves gilbert and that jake loves you the same. then aera follows, “but didn’t you already know?” and you were caught off guard.

nevertheless, aera liked the idea of you and jake being together. you haven’t told her about how you met jake. but one day you will so that she’ll know that the right person will come along in time.

just as jake promised you, both of you will be going on a date together. you asked where you’ll be going but he said it was a surprise.

so you dressed up wearing a denim dress that you thought you’ll never use. you wore the necklace your mother gave you when you graduated high school. it felt weird when you asked aera if you looked okay. but she says that you look beautiful as ever. both yujin and gaeul wanted to babysit her this time. but you also knew that they wanted to see you finally having your date with jake sim. but they were hapoy for you that you finally found someone.

“you really don’t want to tell me where we’re going?”

“not a chance.”

you roll your eyes but you knew that jake was trying to give you a date you can remember.

minutes later, the scenery changed into a lake. the water was shining and the grass was turning to a yellow green color thanks to the sunlight. your jaw dropped at the scenery. it was like an actual painting.

when jake stopped the car, he immediately got out and opened the door for you.

“i wanted to find a place only for us.”

“how did you find this place?”

“had a little help from sunghoon and jay.”

“oh how are those two anyway?”

“they’re doing well, actually. jay is engaged and sunghoon is in denial that he’s crushing on his workmate.

you laugh, remembering sunghoon for his schemes and playboy antics. you remember him teasing jake about a girl he liked in high school.

“you okay?”

“hm?”

“you look grumpy.”

“oh.” you shake your head and grab the picnic basket from jake, “come on!”

the whole picnic, you and jake did some catching up. you told him that your parents are still residing in your hometown and your mom’s flower shop is still om business. your dad retired long ago and he just stays at home. jake’s parents were in australia and they were professors in two different universities.

“i suddenly remembered something. weren’t you supposed to move back to australia after high school?”

jake looks down at your figure, “you trying to get rid of me?” then you give jake a “really?” look and he laughs. you sit up and looked at him, placing your palm on his chest. jake was looking up at the sky, thinking deep.

“it was planned, yes. honestly, i was happy to be back home for a while but…something was telling me that i had to be somewhere else.

“i told my parents that i wanted to go back here. they were hesitant at first but i told them to trust me.”

“and did you find what you were looking for?”

“i did,” then he looks at you, “and i realized that i made the right choice to come home.”

“welcome home, jake.” you leaned down and intended to give him a quick kiss but he leans his face forward, trapping your lips.

“that wasn’t fair.”

“i love you too.”

you laugh but gave jake quick pecks and kept saying “I love you’s” in between. you were afraid of being too affectionate but you couldn’t help but show them when jake showers you a lot of it.

jake giggles like a kid then he hovers over you and it was his turn to attack you with kisses.

then both of you ate the sandwiches he made then watched the sunset together. and it was better than any romance movie you watched.

you and jake didn’t really care if you wanted to go public with your relationship. but now that both of you are driving back to your home town for the reunion, you couldn’t help but be nervous. everyone in high school knew your reputation especially that jake was involved. they don’t even know that you’re a single mom of a seven-year-old girl. and now, you’re dating the boy you had a crush on.

your friends won’t be coming because they had to babysit aera. you were hesitant at first to go but you promised jake that you’ll come with him. also, he really wanted to introduce you as his girlfriend to his friends.

“you ready?” jake unbuckles his seatbelt and then he notices you tensing up.

“you okay, baby?”

“what? oh. y-yeah. maybe not?”

“i’ll be with you the whole time,” jake places his hand on yours, “okay?”

you gulp then nod, “okay.”

jake unbuckles your seatbelt, “let’s go.”

when you and jake entered the hall, everyone was in their tables, probably chatting about their careers and relationships. they were all familiar faces. chaewon, the former class president, was chatting with your former homeroom teacher, mrs. bang. somi, one of jake’s admirers was with a date. ej was with his friend nicholas. those two were hard to separate.

“jake, my man!”

you and jake turn around and see jay approaching you. he and jake gave a brotherly hug. then out of no where, sunghoon barges in and headlocks jake.

“dude!”

“sim jaeyun is here!”

and apparently it caught everyone’s attention and they began whispering when they saw you with the famous “02z of daebom high.”

“so…jake.” sunghoon eyes you then back to jake, raising his eyebrows up and down.

“sunghoon, jay, you remember y/n, don’t you?” jake places his hand around your waist.

“how could we forget when she always screams in the hallways 'jake sim jjan!’ or ‘jakey, the sun can’t shine without your existence in the world!’”

“oh please, don’t.” your face becomes red from embarrassment.

“but y/n, i have to say, it’s about time jake did something more than spend his time on paperwork.”

the four of you chatted for a while before finding a table for the four of you. being in the same table with the three flower boys was your high school dream. it felt weird that it came true after many years but in different circumstances.

“baby, want something to eat?”

“not that hungry, thank you.”

“how about some appetizers?”

“meatballs with cheese would be nice though.”

“i’ll be right back,” jake eyes his friends, “be nice.”

“yes, sir!” sunghoon and jay do a salute before jake leaves you with them.

“y/n, tell me. has jake been giving you headaches?”

“no, actually, he’s been helping me a lot. he’d drop by and help tutor my daughter. then we’d have movie nights until we tuck aera to sleep. we go and do the most mundane dates but with him…he makes it so special.”

then you noticed jay and sunghoon just looking at you in awe.

“you really love him, don’t you?”

you nod, “i do. very much.”

“he may not be telling you this but, ever since he met you, his boring, ordinary life became vibrant and full of joy. i’ve never seen him that happy since.”

jay’s words made you feel accepted. he has always had a way with words but it was the first time you actually heard it.

“thanks, jay.”

“y/n, in case he does do something stupid, just give him a smack in the head and he’ll come around.”

“will try to remember that, sunghoon.”

“meatballs for my lady,” jake places the plate in front of you. jay and sunghoon were about to get some when jake slaps their hands.

“go get your own.”

jay was about to slap jake’s shoulder when mrs. bang starts to speak.

“class of 20xx, i’d like to start this reunion by saying, welcome home.”

everyone claps and you follow. your homeroom teacher continues by saying that there will be a program performed by somi and her friends. like before, she’s always had charisma when performing on stage.

there was games. pocky games were always the best. jay and sunghoon did it by vote. everyone cheered when the pocky stick became small in very bite. both of them didn’t want to loose but they didn’t want to touch each other’s lips either so jay took the fall.

there were some awardings too. the life of the party: sunghoon. shy prince: ej. math wizard: your jake. you got the artist award.

the event was still on-going but you and jake left early. you wanted jake to formally meet your parents.

on the drive going there, you felt nervous but you didn’t want to let jake know. as for jake, you can sense that he’s nervous because he was biting his tongue while looking at his feet.

“baby,” you call jake and when he turns around, “you cup his face.”

“they’re going to love you.”

this time, you’re assuring jake. you felt nervous too but you love jake and you know that he’s a good man that your parents will love.

you and jake waited for someone to answer the door. and when it opened, your mom answers it.

“hi, mom. dad.”

“y/n? who’s this?”

“this is jake. he’s my boyfriend.”

and your parents ended up loving jake. they remember him when you mentioned you went to daebom high together. suddenly, they told jake stories about you gushing over jake. you figured that you had quite the reputation here in town.

“oh jake, you should’ve seen y/n write your name at the back of her notebook with hearts.”

“mom!” you cover your face but your parents kept teasing you.

“jake, y/n might seem the free spirit type but she’s someone who has a big heart.”

“yes, sir. and i'll take care of her and aera.”

your dad kept offering jake some alcohol but you kept reminding him that both of you need to drive home. but a twist of events lead to jake becoming wasted and your parents saying that both of you should spend the night here.

“mom, i have to see aera.”

“y/n, you’re tired and jake is drunk. now, i don’t want both of you getting into an accident.”

you sigh, “yes, mom.”

you carried jake to your old room and lie him on his back. he kept calling your name but you just laughed, finding him cute with his red face.

“baby, i need to take off your shirt. okay?”

jake pouts and covers his chest, “my girlfriend will get mad at me.”

“jake, it’s me.”

jake slowly opens his eyes, “oHhh y/n!”

just like that, jake was fast asleep. you slowly lifted him so he can sit up. when he was sitting on the head board, you gently unbuttoned his shirt. you were thankful that he was wearing a white shirt inside. after that, you positioned him facing the side with a pillow under his head.

“talk about ‘i’ll take care of her.’”

you laugh softly but you lightly jake’s head. he looked really cute. sleeping like a baby.

“y/n…” jake says slurring in his sleep.

“you and aera,” he lets out a hiccup, “are the best thing,” another hiccup, “that’s ever happened to me.”

for so long, you were so scared that when you let someone in your life, they’d leave you. for a while, you thought that you were content that it was just you and your daughter against the world. but eventually, this man right here, drunk and sleep talking is going to be a good father to aera. this man right here is the one you want to spend the rest if your life with.

you’ve been dating for a while now and he has been dropping by your place almost every day. so you asked him to move in with you. it wasn’t anything new except that jake doesn’t have to drive before he gets to see you and aera.

and when you slept at the same bed for the first time, it was a little awkward. but like before, both of you adjusted and got used to it.

you and jake would cuddle before you go to bed. he’d be the big spoon, whether you were facing behind him or you were lying on his chest.

“you know, i should’ve asked you sooner.”

“be grateful that i said yes in a heartbeat.”

“oh, thank you, sir jake.” you teasingly thank him like he was a knight.

the rest of the night, you’d have tickle fights until both of you will snuggle until you sleep.

but like any other relationship, there were always misunderstandings and conflicts.

“jake, all i'm saying is that we don’t have enough money to buy a new place.”

“y/n, i have enough to get us one.”

“didn’t it come across your mind that we should be buying it together?”

“well if maybe your job was—”

“what, jake? if i were a teacher, earning a monthly salary like you?”

“y/n, that’s not what i meant.”

but you walked out before he could finish. you didn’t talk to jake for the rest of the night. jake waa in the living room while you stayed in your bedroom. you were thankful that aera was oblivious to the situation.

after an hour, jake went inside your room and you were facing behind him.

“y/n…”

you didn’t say anything.

“i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have said that.”

“you think?”

“i just thought that if we get a new place, we’d finally settle in a home as a family. but truth is, wherever you are…you are my home.”

you finally turn around, but all you could do was stare at jake as he waits for you to say something.

“did you say family?”

‘yeah. i did.”

you didn’t think before hugging jake. he hugs you back, burying his face on your neck.

you and jake agreed that when the time is right, you’ll get a new place and everything else will fall into place.

you’ve been thinking for a while about what jake said. you did consider moving to a new place but your savings weren’t enough. but you also wanted to start a new life with jake in it.

so you decided to find a full-time job as an art teacher for elementary students. hoping that you’ll have enough income for your family’s future. and no, you didn’t force yourself. you choice this because it’s for the ones you love.

“ms. y/n, am i doing a okay?”

“you’re doing great, jungwon!” you give your student a big smile.

“niki you’re doing great too!”

you never fail to compliment your students. you might not have the best audiences when you were young. but you didn’t want to crush children’s dreams when they remind you of how you were.

“okay, kids. don’t forget that your homework is due tomorrow.”

you were thankful that your class was the last one. you were in the middle of fixing your things when someone knocked at the door.

“hey.”

“hey. your class is done?”

“yeah. well, i clocked out early.”

oh, right. jake finally became a full-time math teacher. both of you work at the same school. he thought that he should be helping you so you can get a new place. besides, it’s a great opportunity for him to go home with you and aera.

“are you not feeling well?” you stand up and held jake’s forehead but he shakes his head.

“actually, we are going out for a while.”

your eyes grew wide, “where are we going?”

“i’ll tell you when we get there.”

“jake.”

“it’s going to be fun,” you raised your brow at jake then he says, “i promise.”

next thing you knew, you and jake were in the car taking the route to your hometown. the next surprising thing is when he parked in front of your old school.

“what are we doing here?”

jake just gives you a smile before getting out of the car. he opens the door for you, kneeling down.

“come with me.”

it might seem weird that jake always makes your heart flutter for the bare minimum but heck, this is jake sim we’re talking about.

both if you were walking down the hallways of the school. it felt weird walking in the same place where you called jake’s name to get his attention. now, you’re holding each other’s hand.

“don’t worry, the teachers know that we’re visiting.”

“any reason why we’re visiting?”

“when we reach the end of the hall, you’ll know.”

so you and jake continue walking. both of you stop then jake holds your hand.

“for this part, i'm going to need you to close your eyes.”

you were hesitant at first but you did what jake asked. he was holding your hand the whole time you walked with your eyes closed. then he stopped.

“wait a minute.”

jake’s lets go if your hand.

“you can open them now.”

you were greeted with lights behind jake. the banner with the sign, “will you accept me?” then you realized that this is how you confessed to jake in high school. and you’re in the same room.

jake was holding a bouquet with pink, white, and red roses with baby’s breath. and he had a ring on his other hand.

“y/n, i never would’ve thought that my boring, plain, life would be so colorful, vibrant, and joyful. you and aera…i couldn’t imagine how my life would turn out if you weren’t in my life. you let me become part of your life, and i want to spend my remaining days with you and our family.”

“so,” jake kneels down in front of you. the action caught your breath away.

“will you accept me?”

you gave yourself a minute to process what was happening. and when you did, you finally say…

“jake, i appreciate what you have done but…

“it would be a shame if i don’t say yes.”

you laugh and you let your tears fall on your face.

“yes, yes, yes.”

jake stands up and finally gives you a tight hug. you bury your face in his chest.

jake kisses your head and whispers, “i love you.”

you lift your head up, “i love you.”

the last time you fell in love, things might not have gone the way you wanted them to. you doubted a lot of things and distanced yourself. then you met a man who proved to you that you deserve a second chance.

this time, you were sure that it will be different and will be the best thing that has ever happened to you.

***

epilogue

#ENHYPENWRITERS #enhypen au #enhypen jake au #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jaeyun x reader #enhypen fluff #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen jake angst #enhypen jaeyun #enhypen jaeyun fluff #enhypen jaeyun angst #enhypen jake x reader fluff #enhypen jake x reader angst #jake sim au #sim jaeyun #jake au #jaeyun au

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valeriianz · 3 months

Text

Model Student

nearly 4k of PWP crazy inspired by this and THIS super steamy art by @abyssalcryptid that seized me by the back of the neck and wouldn't let go until i caved and ;akgjkafhgaghj

CW: human au, trans Dream, words 'cunt', 'clit', and 'hole' used for Dream's bits, student/teacher relations, age gap, consenting adults, oral sex, penis-in-vagina sex.

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“Hey, professor?”

“Hm?”

Hob looks up from the paperwork he’d been pouring over, finding Dream Endeleas standing at the entrance to his office, and immediately forgets where he is.

Dream is leaning– draping– himself on the door frame, wearing a tiny black short sleeve button down that looks two sizes too small, tied around his firm stomach, the buttons open and revealing a lacy bra underneath. Hanging low on his hips is a dark, plaid skirt plucked straight out of a school-girl porno, and– Hob swallows roughly as his eyes trail further– stockings that travel for miles down Dream’s legs to the cute pumps on his feet.

Hob’s mouth hangs open, panting by the time he looks up again, struck down by the slow smirk Dream’s face splits into.

“Fuck me?”

Reality slams back into Hob and he vaults from his chair, causing it to roll backwards as he stomps around his desk.

“Dream!” Hob hisses, not missing the devious way the student’s eyes narrow as he casually side-steps Hob on his way to look out into the hallway before all but slamming the door shut.

“Can you not? With the door wide open?” Hob pulls the little curtain down over the window and, for good measure, flicks the lock secure.

“Something wrong?” Dream asks, coy, his low voice cutting straight through Hob.

Hob huffs, casting his eyes heavenward, praying for patience… before looking back at Dream, the devious spark in his eyes, the way his fingers lazily drag up his thighs all the way up to the lines of his stomach and dipping in between the folds of the blouse to touch the black lace hidden beneath. He arches off the wall, back bending like a bow, all while staring intently at Hob.

Hob knows no one in heaven is listening to him. He didn’t deserve any kind of holy interference for what he was doing with his student. If anything, he would be entitled to some righteous judgment.

They had been sneaking around for a while, ever since Dream came by during office hours, maybe three weeks into the semester, and unashamedly– determination flashing behind his eyes– crawled onto Hob’s desk and grabbed him by the face for their first kiss.

Hob had a feeling his student had a little crush on him, day one, if the heated glances during lecture were anything to go by. Or the way Dream would always sit in the first row, legs sprawled out wide– in jeans or a skirt– sticking the end of his pencil in his mouth, blue eyes sharp and confident and so… so alluring.

He was a good student too, one of the best in the class. Hob had no idea how Dream managed to pay attention to the material when he himself would lose his train of thought constantly, being in the same room with the man who was ten years his junior.

Dream could see it too, surely, the way Hob would stutter or blush in his presence. Hob could always tell when a student liked him a little too much. Could see the way freshman girls would bat their eyelashes or curl their hair behind their ear with a cute smile during talks of homework or asking Hob personal questions. It wasn’t something new, and Hob was good about keeping it strictly professional and never reciprocating, even on accident.

But there was something about Dream that refused to take no for an answer. He was persistent… though he was never pushy, not in a creepy way. And unfortunately, Hob liked Dream, too. He was smitten since the student first walked into his third year lecture hall and barely made an effort to keep his interest at bay.

And, inevitably, Dream began to see the way Hob barely held himself back, leaning into Dream’s advances little by little; standing too close after all the other students had left and Dream would approach him after class, a question on his tongue that Hob knew Dream had the answer to already. Giving his smile with more and more frequency to Dream’s awful jokes and attempts at flirting… never dissuading them– but also not encouraging, just letting it be. Soon Hob found himself eagerly awaiting their alone time, even if for a moment. Finding each other at the campus cafe and naturally sitting down together to talk. That eventually moved onto meeting up off-campus, under the pretense to discuss, say, internships or Dream’s ambitions for the future… which would always devolve into personal life and get Hob talking about himself more freely.

It was a little terrifying, Hob had to admit, sleeping with a student (or were they dating?). He was putting his job on the line– his reputation– but fuck, it was so worth it. And Hob would be lying if he didn’t admit to how all the sneaking around only amplified the sex. The forbiddance of it all. Dream got a kick out of it too, Hob knew. Smug satisfaction written all over his face after each successful affair. Even playing up their roles in the bedroom and full on calling Hob “professor” instead of his name and teasing about how he could get some “extra credit.” It was ridiculous and depraved– Hob had never felt so alive, never felt like this before– falling into bed with his own student.

Despite how physical their relationship was, Hob couldn’t deny the other chemistry between them, how they’d connected emotionally– more than what happened behind closed doors. Hob felt himself looking forward to even the mundane dates with Dream, learning about his family, what his favorite food was, charmed in the way Dream would steal Hob’s clothes in the morning and wake up first to make terrible coffee. It would probably be easier if their trysts were purely physical… but Hob knew this was turning into something he couldn’t control. His heart getting in the way, as usual.

They’ve never done more than kiss in Hob’s office, though. It felt especially dangerous to fool around on campus grounds. Most of their nights spent in intimacy were at Hob’s house, sprawling Dream onto his king size bed and fucking him so hard he’d come into class the next day with a limp.

Now, however, Hob has to wonder if he’d been too lenient with Dream. Too indulgent. What else would prompt him to arrive in his office like this? Shameless and almost uncaring of anyone around.

“What if someone heard you?” Hob asks after picking his jaw off the floor.

“No one did.” Dream says simply, stepping up to Hob and tugging on his tie, his eyes low, considering. “You haven’t answered my question yet.”

“Didn’t sound much like a question to me.” Hob feels a grin stretch across his face despite himself.

“Mm… it wasn’t.” Dream looks up at Hob, eyes dark and wicked. His smirk sharpens as he wanders over to Hob’s desk, turning and leaning back against it.

“Come here.”

Hob swallows, and knows his fate is sealed. He can only obey, walking up to Dream as if in a daze, his eyes never leaving those crystalline blues.

Once in front of him, Dream takes off Hob’s glasses, folds them, and sets them off to the side before reaching up to kiss him. Hob gets his hands on Dream as he kisses back, matching his energy, resting them on his narrow hips and sliding them up. He gets his fingers around the knot of the blouse, working it open, his hands dipping past the fabric over his flat chest once it falls open, thumbs brushing his nipples through the lace bra.

Dream hums in satisfaction, the gorgeous purr pouring down Hob’s throat and encouraging him to push the shirt completely off.

Once the blouse hits the floor, Dream takes Hob’s hand and shoves it under his skirt.

“Oh, fuck,” Hob moans into Dream’s mouth, his hand automatically moving against the velvety warm folds of Dream’s cunt through the mesh of the stockings he wore.

“You feel that? How wet I am for you?” Dream breathes. Their lips brush together, hot and teasing and making Hob’s head spin.

Hob presses harder, his palm rubbing and catching the friction of the material against it. Dream throws his head back with a bitten off groan, bucking up into the sensation.

Hob almost blacks out thinking about how Dream walked up here, crossing the quad, wearing nothing under this skirt but air– this flimsy excuse for fabric– dripping slick on his way to him. Leaking down his thighs and– fuck, it turns Hob on so bad. Dream knows exactly how to wind him up and it drives Hob crazy.

Hob watches– enraptured– Dream’s face as he slides his middle finger roughly into Dream’s sopping wet hole, not getting far against the tight stockings, while closing the remaining distance between them so Dream can wrap his arms around him, hiking a knee up and hooking it around Hob’s waist, thrusting inelegantly against his hand.

With his free hand, Hob takes Dream’s face, pulling him into another sloppy kiss that is mostly teeth and tongue. Hob groans, frustration coating his tone– with the sudden urge to taste him. The scent of Dream’s sex is wafting in the air between them and it’s making Hob delirious, all his focus narrowing into one singular need.

Without warning, Hob breaks off, their lips separating with a lewd smacking noise, and dropping to his knees. Dream’s protest at losing Hob’s warmth transitions to a low sound of approval as Hob plunges his face under the skirt.

Hob hears the sound of Dream’s hand slapping over his mouth, muffling his own cries of pleasure while Hob latches his mouth over the rough material of the stockings. He lays his tongue flat and grabs onto Dream’s ass, encouraging his thrusts against his face. Hob moans long and low as the scent and taste of Dream fill his every sense, closing his eyes and working his jaw and tongue exactly how he knows Dream likes.

It’s exquisite, Hob could stay here for hours, eating Dream out. The helpless mewls that tumble past Dream’s lips encourage Hob to feast, taking what he can manage without actually getting his mouth directly where he wants it most. The thin fabric adds a delicious friction that is almost painful on Hob’s tongue, swapping between licking and sucking before he growls and bites at the mesh gently, tugging it away from Dream’s body.

“Rip it,” Dream pants, he sounds a wreck and Hob’s barely gotten started. His fingers in Hob’s hair tighten with no intention to release him.

Hob pulls the fabric again to rip a hole with his teeth, the sound of the material tearing tickles Hob’s ears. It sends goosebumps down Hob’s arms before immediately plunging his tongue inside the velvety wet heat of Dream and– yes, this is exactly what he needed, what they both needed.

Dream howls, muffled behind his hand, and gets a leg up over Hob’s shoulder, pitching his hips forward again and again. Chasing his pleasure and wiping Hob’s brain clean of anything except Dream, Dream, Dream.

Hob gets a hand up, trailing the underside of Dream’s thigh up to his ass and gropes, pulling him with more force against his face until he knows he’s gonna have a bruise on his nose tomorrow. He can hardly breathe, but he’s moaning in delight at the absolutely unrestrained way Dream selfishly takes and takes, fucking Hob’s face with reckless abandon, getting faster and faster, more uncoordinated until–

Dream comes with a long, low wine, his hips stuttering with it and Hob unlatches his jaw to catch all the slick in his mouth, humming pleasantly, like he’s just taken a bite from an extravagant meal.

But Hob doesn’t relish in the taste for long, his own cock is throbbing in his pants and after thoroughly licking Dream out– sensing Dream’s thighs shake from the stimulation– he stands up, grabs Dream by the jaw, and kisses him. Hard and messy and Dream licks inside of his mouth like he intends to crawl inside.

“Fuck me,” Dream reminds Hob in a puff of hot air, and Hob is all to willing to give him exactly what he wants.

Hob leans past Dream to swipe an arm over his desk, pushing things– inconsequential really– off and onto the floor in a loud clatter.

He doesn’t miss the fucked out, satisfied smirk on Dream’s face before Hob then turns him around, one hand flat on Dream’s back to push him down onto the desk. Dream goes willingly, pliant and with a breathy “Oh, yes…” muffled against the polished wood. Keeping his hand on Dream’s lower back, Hob struggles unbuckling his belt with wet, slippery fingers.

Dream’s ass wiggles temptingly before him, distracting Hob enough to get his hand under that sinfully short skirt and fondle the flesh there, spreading one cheek out and pushing his thumb against the tight material of the stockings to get at Dream’s asshole.

Dream arches his back and pushes into Hob’s hold with a soft whine that goes straight to Hob’s cock. He’d love to fuck Dream’s ass. He presents it so willingly… but Hob is too impatient for prep. And with Dream’s cunt already slick and loose– Hob’s mind is made up.

His fingers trail down to the small slit in the stockings and tear it wider, so Dream’s entire sex is exposed, all the way up to his pretty asshole. Hob hears Dream hum in delight as he pushes his hips back expectantly.

Hob finally manages to get his cock out, his pants barely hanging onto his hips, and gives it a few strokes to take the edge off.

Dream is panting beneath him, spreading his legs, his ass out and god– Hob is obsessed. He’s probably in love too but he’s not going to think about that.

Hob slots his pelvis flush against Dream’s rear, slipping his erection in between the scant flesh there and breathes deeply, taking a moment to look down at the vision before him. Dream’s strong shoulders and slim back, the bra still hooked on with one strap threatening to slip free. His elbows bent at his sides, anticipation clear in his posture and the way his ass pushes now against Hob’s throbbing member, becoming impatient.

“Hob…” Dream’s protest is breathy, probably not as commanding as he’d anticipated but it makes Hob smile all the same, one hand roaming up Dream’s back and down again, resting his hold once more on his rear.

He gets in cock in the other hand and lines himself up with Dream’s soaked hole, almost glistening, sliding into Dream in one long, slow glide, moaning in relief and agony, because Dream is so deliriously tight.

“Fuck, baby…”

“Move,” Dream demands, but his voice sounds broken, desperate.

“So needy…” Hob grunts, sliding out and relishing in the leisurely drag. He starts at a slow pace, biting down another moan that bubbles up from his throat. “Fuck you feel incredible. You dressed like this for me?”

“Do you like it?” Dream looks over his shoulder and Hob gasps at how Dream already looks so debauched. “I was going to surprise you in class with it first– ah!” Hob smirks at the cry, having given in momentarily with a hard thrust. “But I couldn't wait that long.”

“You little shit,” Hob pants, picking up the pace. His hands are tight around Dream’s hips. “Are you gonna get changed before lecture?”

“What do you think?” The grin Dream throws over his shoulder is vicious and drives Hob absolutely mad.

Hob can see it already, how Dream will squirm in his seat, displaying himself, immodest and shameless as he always is. How the hell is Hob supposed to focus on the lesson plan knowing how brutally he’d fucked Dream just an hour prior.

He fucks him faster. “You’re going to leave cum all over the seat.” Hob means for the words to come out admonishingly, but it sounds like a revelation in his own ears, excitement coloring his tone and it only quickened his pace, snapping his hips and tearing out a choked off cry from Dream’s lips.

“And I’m gonna spread my legs and make sure you see what you’ve done to me during the. Entire. Lecture.” Dream seizes up, his head snapping up as if on a string. “Fuck! Hob! Right there–!”

Hob nearly growls as he sets up a brutal pace. His hips pistoning as he strikes that spot in Dream again and again and again. Dream’s hands flailing to grab onto something, his nails scratching the surface of Hob’s desk while another holds onto the edge of it, his entire body bouncing with each contact. The slick slap, slap, slap coupled with Dream’s ragged, hitched breaths echo around Hob and coil deep in his gut, the tension there coiling tighter and tighter…

Hob throws his head back to stare at the ceiling, keeping himself in check as he slows, his hands clawing at the skin of Dream’s hips, holding him firm. Dream groans, despairing at the slowed pace and begins to squirm in his hold.

“Hob–”

“Oh, my sweet Dream…” Hob breathes, his voice hoarse, pitched low as he looks down again, transfixed at the sight of his cock disappearing into Dream with easy, heavy thrusts. He slips it out just so his cockhead is visible, taking himself in hand to trace around the rim of Dream’s entrance, forcing a full body shudder from the student, before easing back in.

“You take me so well,” Hob slips his hands down to get Dream’s delicious ass in his hands, pushing the skirt up over his sharp hip bones to fully put him on display. “Your body was made for me, sweet thing. So good for me.”

Dream keens under the praise, his body rolling helplessly on Hob’s cock, riding desperately for friction that Hob barely has a hold on, his arousal screaming at him to take, it nearly hurts Hob to force himself to slow down. But he wants to make this last, wants to keep Dream here, sprawled out on his desk and behaving oh so patiently until Hob can get himself back under control.

“Hob–” Dream sobs again, pushing his hips back once more and Hob pulling out just in time, denying the pleasure and Dream’s fingers claw at the desk. “Hob please–!”

It’s the please that finally makes Hob snap, he could never deny Dream for long. He wants to spoil him rotten, wants to give him everything. The revelation is enough to send Hob spiraling, how much his chest aches with the desire to do anything to keep Dream close, always. So he does, his hands sliding back to his hips and holding on as he yanks him back, spearing Dream on his cock again and again, ripping out strangled cries that get caught in Dream’s throat, finally getting what he wants and delivering it at a punishing pace.

“More, more! Oh, fuck! Hob–!”

“Shh, Dream. I got you,” Hob grunts, he watches Dream slap a hand over his mouth again. Hob’s hold is nearly slipping– Dream’s skin shines with sweat, exertion out of every pore. “So close– fuck!”

Dream is close too, Hob can feel how his walls tighten around him like he intends to pull his cock deeper inside. He reaches a hand between Dream’s legs, where they are coupled, and all it takes is a fluttering touch of Hob’s fingers against Dream’s clit and Hob knows he’s coming, his scream barely muffled behind his hand.

Dream’s head falls, his forehead hitting the desk with a dull thunk as he desperately grinds his hips back, milking it for all it’s worth before he finally collapses, boneless, against the solid wood surface.

Hob drapes himself over Dream’s back, finally allowing himself to give in and fuck relentlessly into him over and over, his hands finding Dream’s and lacing their fingers together tightly as Hob moans into Dream’s skin, coming so hard he nearly slips out and definitely sees white for a moment there.

His thrusts turn shallow, ears attuned to Dream’s happy sighs as Hob pumps his seed into him, slow but unrelenting, even as he feels himself going soft.

“Oh, Dream. My Dream,” Hob praises, breathless, kissing up the knobs of his spine to the nape of his neck.

“Mm… yours.” Dream’s voice rumbles like thunder, satisfied.

Hob dips his head, his damp brows touching Dream’s back as he collects himself, and remembers where they are. Shit, he really hopes no one heard them. This is why he’d made a hard rule about fucking on campus; Dream was always so vocal. And as they sit in silence, Hob realizes how loud they had been, despite Dream’s best efforts to stifle his cries.

He finally peels himself off of Dream, pulling out and his cock giving a valiant twitch of interest with the way Dream makes a pathetic sound of loss, his knees bending slightly as he properly hangs onto the desk now.

Hob’s cum immediately begins to seep down Dream’s thighs, Hob can see how it soaks into the black mesh and… lord have mercy– Hob is truly going to hell– how it drips onto the floor.

“Dream…” Hob doesn’t know what he wants to say, maybe ask Dream to sit on his face, to lap up their combined spend so he can smell it on his skin for the rest of the day. God he’s so well and truly fucked.

Instead, he helps Dream off the desk and curls them down onto the floor, Dream seated on his lap and wrapping his arms around Hob’s shoulders.

“You keep surprising me,” Hob says, his thumb caressing the line of Dream’s jaw and up to his cheekbones. “Devious, sexy thing.”

Dream smiles and leans in to tap their noses together.

“I actually don’t want to go to class anymore.”

“No?” Hob grins. He hasn’t checked the time in a while, but he’s sure they still have maybe an hour at least.

“You should cancel it.”

Hob laughs, his arms coiling around Dream’s middle, hands moving up his back.

“I’m not going to cancel it,” he smiles at the despairing way Dream grumbles. “But how about this: you go home, get some rest, and I’ll be there after to give all my attention to you.”

Dream stares at him, his eyes searching. It’s not the first time Hob has said “home” for the both of them, indicating his own house, which of course Dream has the spare keys to. He’d like to make it their home… Hob wants Dream to think of anything of Hob's as Dream’s as well… he hopes he can convey it without being explicit… how he wants to share his life with Dream.

And wonderfully, Dream seems to understand, tipping his head forward for a kiss.

“I’ll be waiting.”

#dreamling #hob x dream #nsft #this is very raunchy ahhh #what have i done lmao #no regrets though i hope you like it Vi!#i love your art it always inspires!#my writing #student teacher dreamling #spreading the Hob pussy eating champion agenda as one does

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dira333 · 7 months

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Glass Heart, take flight - Asahi x Reader

A/N: Soulmate AU, requested for the Follower Celebration, tagging @screamin-abt-haikyuu because DUH!

You’ve got a Glass Heart tattooed just below your left ear.

It’s small enough to hide behind your hair or a pair of earrings if you want to.

You don’t know when you’ve got it. It’s what happens to people who are too young when they meet their soulmate. You're pretty sure you know who it was though, not that it helps.

Gravel flies everywhere as you fall off the swing. You’d meant to fly as high as you dared, when someone grabbed chains from behind, bringing you to an abrupt stop. You fall face first, tears spilling over your bruised cheeks way before you can start wailing.

“Are you okay?” Someone asks, picking you up with ease. For a moment, you think it’s someone’s parent, but when long fingers carefully grab your chin and turn your face around to inspect the damage, you see it’s a boy, maybe a few years older than you, lanky and long-haired.

His touch is soft and tickles, surprising you enough to stop crying.

“Who are you?” You ask.

Your words break whatever spell there had been. He jumps back, blushing.

“I, uh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

He moves back, step after step after step. You try to grab him, what for, you don’t know yet. But you miss, nothing but air between your outstretched hands.

“I’ll go grab your Mum,” he insists, jogging away.

“What school are you going to next year?” Miri asks over Lunch.

Your fingertips find the little heart beneath your ear that appeared last night.

“Sekodai,” you tell her as confidently as you’ll ever be.

“Ah.” She nods. “They’ve got a great Volleyball Club, or so I’ve heard.”

“Yeah.” You shrug. “But I’m more into art.” And cute guys. But you don’t say that out loud.

“Hi. I’m from Class 1.5. Could I draw you? It’s for the Art Club.”

You watch as he blushes, the redness reaching even the tops of his ears.

“I…” He stammers helplessly.

“Dang, Asahi!” One of his classmates whistles lowly. “You’ve got game!”

“I…” His voice’s barely a voice anymore. It sounds more like a kettle whistling. Well, at least you know his name now. He cut his hair shorter and it’s wavy, framing his face in a way that makes you want to drag your hands through it. Or paint it, whatever he’ll allow.

“Please?” You ask. “It won’t take long. It’s just a sketch.”

“F-Fine…” He’s still red-faced when he arrives for the session, relaxes only slightly when he realizes that he’s not the only one.

Most students have asked their classmates to sit for their panting. He’s not the only third-year, but the teacher eyes him curiously.

“Do you need something?” She asks. “We normally don’t have high schoolers visiting.”

“I-I… I’m a student here.” Asahi stutters helplessly. “Third year.”

“Oh.” She blinks. “How old are you then?”

“He looks older than he is.” You interrupt, reaching forward to take his hand, to pull him away from the discussion he’s clearly dreading.

Asahi pulls his hand away like you’re a snake, ready to bite.

It hurts more than you let on.

He barely speaks as he sits for his portrait. Today’s lesson is meant to be in black and white and while you’re glad he agreed to sit for you, you hate the fact that all his blushing is lost to you. You can do nothing more but hope the image will burn itself into your brain, for that you’ll never go without it.

When you’re done and you turn the canvas for him to see, he stills.

A multitude of emotions flickers over his face, each too fast for you to catch before he bows so low you fear for his spine.

“Thank you for considering me.” He presses through his teeth and darts from the room and you pretend you don’t notice that he takes a few extra steps to avoid the risk of touching you.

The sound of a whistle cuts through your heart.

Below you, Karasuno loses, Dateko wins.

Asahi’s grown taller in the two years you haven’t seen him. His hair has grown out too.

But there’s added weight on his shoulders, you can tell by the way he walks.

Your fingertips reach for the Glass Heart below your ear. You wonder how it’s holding up now.

“Are you sure you wanna go to this school?” Miri asks next to you. “I mean, you don’t have to come to Aoba Johsei with me, we’ve been friends for long enough, but you got a ride to Shiratorizawa.”

“No, I want this one,” you say, your voice firm.

Miri sighs. “Well, at least the Art Club there isn’t bad.”

Barely one week into the school year you get the chance to deliver some papers to the Third Year Classes.

Well, the task had been meant for the “strong boys” in your Class, but you’re too stubborn to take the hint.

Now you’re sweating under the weight of too many folders to count and your hair is sticking to your face in a way you hope is looking cutely disheveled instead of ready-to-murder-you.

“Ah, thank you. That looks pretty heavy, didn’t Takeda-Sensei send someone with you?” The teacher asks. You ignore her words and let your eyes run through the Classroom. There, a little bit further back, sits Asahi.

When your eyes meet his there’s instant recognition. You’d be proud about it, proud that he remembers you even two years later if he didn’t turn away right after. Your heart plummets all the way to your feet, but you need to keep up the facade as well as the weight of folders in your arms.

“Azumane,” his teacher orders. “You’re tall and strong. Help this student out, will you?”

He blushes furiously, but he gets up nonetheless and walks out stiffly.

You pull your sweater over your hands, one by one, so that he won’t have to fear touching you before you offer the folders for him to take.

“I…” He starts, but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

It happens. There are Soulmates who don’t fall in love.

You never thought you’d be one of them.

If only you’d have been born without a stubborn head as well.

It would make everyone’s lives easier.

“Can I walk you home?” You ask, stepping out of the little shed that holds the bicycles.

Asahi flinches away like you’re the one towering over other people.

“What? How? I..” He stammers.

You shrug and pull the straps of your backpack a little tighter to hide your shaking hands.

“Can I?” You ask again.

He stares, wordlessly.

“You don’t have to agree, I can just follow you home on my own, two steps behind you so you don’t see me sneaking.”

That brings something like a smile to his face but he turns away to hide it the moment it flickers over his lips.

But he starts walking and you rush to catch up to him, taking two steps everytime he takes one.

“You know,” you say, a little breathlessly when you need to tackle an incline, “As much as Hinata’s going on my nerves, I think he’s good for the team.”

Asahi stops again. “You know Hinata?”

“Uh, yeah. Everyone knows Hinata. Also, I’m a First Year.”

“Right.”

He walks two steps before stopping again.

“You know about the team?”

“Yeah?” You huff, trying to hide the fact that you’re already out of breath. “The only reason I’m not a manager is because I’m way better at art than I ever was at managing.”

“Why don’t you play?”

You point at yourself, still unable to take a proper breath after less than five minutes of jogging next to him. He doesn’t seem to understand.

“I’ve got the Athletic Genes of a Muffin,” you translate when you can breathe a little better. On the other side of the hill, the sun sets the sky on fire. “But I think it’s all the same. It doesn’t matter if you paint or play Volleyball, really. Humans have no wings, so they search for other ways to fly.”

When you look back at him, there’s something in his eyes you haven’t seen before. It makes you nervous and you swallow thickly, try to regain the composure you’ve had before.

“Do you… do you believe in Soulmates?” You ask, your mind running on empty.

“Sure.” His voice sounds weirdly detached. His face is tinted golden from the sunset.

“Is this why you don’t want to be touched?” It’s a guess, really. He could still be a germaphobe. But he flinches like you’ve caught him.

“Maybe.”

“Why?”

“It’s a great burden,” he admits, quietly, staring at the sun. “What if they touch you and then you’ve got a mark but they don’t like you like that? You’d always be tied to them, whether they wanted that or not. I’d rather not put that on anyone.”

“It’s a bit late for that.” The words slip out your mouth too fast for you to catch them. You’d wanted to say something else, to put it differently. But he understands nonetheless, his head snapping over.

You pull your hair back to reveal the Glass Heart below your ear.

Whatever you thought would happen, doesn’t.

Asahi takes a step back instead of forward. You can see the doubt cloud his mind.

“Please.” You step forward, lunge for his arm like you’ve done all those years before on the playground.

This time, your hand closes around his wrist. It tickles.

But Asahi is taller, stronger, faster than you. When the turns to run, you’ve got no chance to follow.

The boy is about as tall as Hinata, dark hair with one bleached strand that makes it look like he’s being hit by lightning.

You remember hearing Yamaguchi talk about him, but his name is lost on you.

“Can I help you?” You ask rather rudely. You haven’t slept well ever since that evening. It’s been a week and it’s starting to catch up to you.

You wonder if you’ve left a mark on Asahi. Maybe you’d read it all wrong. Maybe you’d run after the wrong guy all these years.

“Are you in the Art Club?” He asks.

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Thanks?”

He grins, gives you a thumbs up and leaves. Whatever that was, you don’t have the energy to deal with it right now.

It takes two more times of him showing up until you learn his name.

Nishinoya-senpai is weirdly adamant about getting to know you. He’s also hilariously bad at it, spending most of his time telling you about how great he did at training today, how he almost couldn’t save a ball Asahi had spiked, or how their manager is the prettiest being in the whole wide world.

“Why are you here?” You ask when he catches you after school. You’re in the middle of washing your brushes and you’d like it very much if your heart just gave in. But it has been two weeks and you still cannot stop thinking about Asahi. Even though you haven’t seen him since that evening. Has he stopped going to school?

“I’m a friend of Asahi.” He tells you.

“Aha.”

“He talks about you a lot.”

“Sure he does.” The sarcasm in your voice would be enough for two more people.

“No, really, he does. I think you’re Soulmates. But you know, we didn’t win against Dateko last year and… well, I think he needs to prove to himself that he’s worthy- Are you okay?”

You can taste the salt of your own tears. You nod, hoping he will leave you alone. He doesn’t.

“What does it matter?” You ask. Not necessarily Nishinoya, but if he’s not willing to leave you alone, he’s going to have to deal with it. “What does it matter if he wins or loses? Isn’t he worthy no matter what?” You try to dry your nose on your sleeve but the tears just won’t stop.

There’s a more pressing question to it all, a question you hadn’t dared voice before but it won’t leave your mind so why not give it the room it craves?

“Am I even worthy?”

When your tears finally dry, Nishinoya is gone.

Well, you’ve always known that not all boys are created equal. Some just cannot deal with tears.

“Can I walk you home?” Asahi asks, stepping out of the little shed that holds the bicycles.

You flinch. You thought you’d be the last one to leave.

“You don’t have to agree,” he stutters. “I-I can just follow you home on my own, t-two steps behind you…”

“Why?” You ask, voice a little hoarse from crying.

“Nishinoya told me… About what you said.”

“So?”

Asahi stretches out his arm. His shirt is pulled back.

On his wrist is something you haven’t seen before. Two black wings spread out on either side, like a bird taking flight.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner,” he tells you. “If you want, you can take my hand.”

You move to grab it, half expecting him to pull away again. But his hand is warm, big enough to swallow yours and he squeezes back even as he blushes furiously.

“What about Dateko?” You ask, not willing to let go. “What about being worthy?”

“I tend to get lost in my own head,” he confesses. “I doubt that will ever change. But, I- I want you to know that I never doubted that you were worthy. I knew ever since we met for the first time, well, I hoped, but I… I didn’t want to-”

“Put a burden on me, I know.” You nod and squeeze his hand at the same time. “You’re going to have to get used to it, you know? I’ve got pretty strong shoulders.”

You can’t see the sunset from where you’re standing. But the way Asahi smiles makes you think you don’t need to anyway. He’ll always be golden anyway.

“Careful, door opening.” Asahi announces, one arm on your back as he guides you into the coffee shop.

Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, but you trust your fiancé that he will keep you safe on your early morning hunt for breakfast.

He orders for the two of you, squinting down over your shoulder every once in a while to check in on your live feed.

Your newest art project hasn’t been online for long and the comments are flowing in almost too fast for you to read.

It’s only when Asahi awkwardly clears his throat behind you that you look up. You spot it right away.

“Excuse me?”

The Barista looks up right away, flinching slightly when she locks eyes with you.

“He asked for oat milk. That’s soy.”

“Sorry, I mixed that up.”

“No worries, just making sure.” You smile as Asahi deflates behind you, leaning all his weight onto your shoulders.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into your ear. “I wouldn’t have been able to say anything.”

“I know.” Your right hand finds his, squeezes tight. “That’s why we’ve got each other.”

My Kofi if you want to tip me

#my writing #Asahi x Reader #Asahi Azumane #Asahi Fluff #Asahi Azumane Fluff #Haikyuu x Reader #Haikyuu Fluff

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ioniansunsets · 10 months

Text

✖ Hwei Painting Reader ✖

✖ Word Count: 1.5k

✖ Tags: Established R/S

✖ A/N: I've seen all the voicelines and read his content we ARE HWEI LUKAI SIMPS NOW LETS GO BABES!!!!!!!! I still can't believe this took 3 days to write because I kept re-reading and re-writing things to try to make it less OOC.

I also super kin him as a college student in an arts school. Yes my love, lets stay up to 11am rushing an uninspired assignment together surviving off coffee and instant noodles. Oh no am I triggering a school au thought for Hwei.....maybe......

Oh more art student thoughts, I headcanon his paintings to be like Henri Matisse! He is a Fauvist! I know for a fact !This man will use every single color that exists to paint his world just as he imagines it, who cares what his teachers say! That green stripe on his lover's forehead is meant to be there! Fuck the critics!

----

You had been sitting here for an hour by now, Hwei telling you how badly he wanted to- No. Needed to capture your beauty in the orange hues of the setting sun.

How inspired he was seeing you walk past the window in his studio as you two returned from a walk. The way the light glows as it hit your hair, how your body silhouetted against the glass, the way the shadows cast on the floor just was so perfect in framing sanctity of the moment.

Slowly Hwei walks over, hands soft as they feel your face. Gently, the tips of his fingers trail down from your eyes to your cheeks and finally stopping at your lips. His three favorite parts of your face, all so important in showing him your emotions. An almost lamentable smile crossing his face as he looks down and walks back to the canvas situated slightly further away. You could usually understand him but, sometimes you wish you could understand what darkness held him back.

" I'm always blessed to have such a masterpiece like you love me. How such beauty flourishes besides my despair."

Hwei pauses, thinking of the right words. His hand rising to rest on his chin as he looks around, everywhere but you.

" It eludes me. Yet, it fills me with such honor at the same time."

Hwei speaks to you soft, voice trailing off as he thinks, slowly nodding. The lightest of pink undertones suddenly rising to his cheeks as he thinks again about what he just said.

Oh how he so dearly appreciates your bright existence in his life. Eyes not daring to meet your own for his heart is already threatening to explode just from that brief touch earlier. Emotions were always such an important part of art, he cherishes how you inspire him this way, just seeing your beauty in the world fills him with image after image to paint and bring to life.

You however, notice anyway, his feelings that he tries to hide away from you. The way the colors in his eyes change, another telltale sign of the way you affect him. Your own cheeks now dusted with the same soft pink on his.

You smile, sitting still on the window sill, a soft glow from the setting sun illuminating you from behind as you watch your lover paint. A sight that never stops amazing you, the way his magic throws colors onto the canvas, mixing together to create such visually stunning images, you were so sure those purples and greens don't exist in shadows yet somehow you know he would make it look like the rainbows were there all along.

" You know I only shine this bright because you care for me so, Hwei."

" Ah... Don't flatter me this way, your beauty is your own. I can never make something that really captures your brilliance on a canvas like this. But alas, I believe I have the skills to at least capture my emotions for you down in this one."

You watch on, another hour had passed. The sun had long set, instead, the moonlight and soft glow of the lamp overhead lights up your partner's features as the corners of his lips curl up into a smile. Unable to hold back his excitement as the empty canvas slowly fills up with color and form. His hands gracefully gliding across the scene, you watch how his clothes move around him, how the shadows move on his exposed collar as his arm raises to work. His hair bouncing behind him as he paces around, making sure he views you from every angle, catching all the important details to this moment. His eyes darting back and forth from your form to his canvas. After a while, the finishing touches finally placed, he steps back and gives a relieved sigh. He was usually so hard on himself to create perfection, but when it comes to a portraiture of you, he can't help but agree he made a masterpiece. You were stunning, so anything made in your image was stunning to him too.

" Take a look."

Hwei walks to your side, hand out for support as you held onto it and hopped off the windowsill. He guides you to the canvas, hand gently resting on the dip of your lower back. Eventually he moves to stand behind you, resting his head on your shoulder, arms now around you in a hug from behind. You can feel his anxiety, the silence in the air heavy as you carefully consider his work, a slight tremble in his grip around your waist. Of course, you only have good things to say about it, he's an art prodigy if you've ever seen one. Avant Garde work but undeniably breathtaking. As you finally look at the completed work in front of you, you were pleasantly surprised to see how once again, he left your breathless with just how he sees you.

" I can't lie Hwei, this is amazing. Everything you make is amazing to me I could never wield colors the way you do. To think that this was how you saw me."

As you speak you can feel him heat up against your back, his head slowly tilting down as he hides his face into the crook of your neck. His art of you was just one of the small ways he tries to show you his love.

" Thank you."

He whispers softly into your skin. You giggle softly, reaching up to rest your hand against his. After placing a soft kiss on the corner where your clothes meet your skin, he pulls away to stand in front of you, eyes finally meeting yours as you catch sight of gold flecks floating across his irises. He was so visibly happy to just be here, to see you happy with his work. Hwei takes a deep breath. Calming himself as he looks at you, taking in the sight of you in front of him, you can tell how his thoughts were flooding him as the two of you stood there in comfortable silence before he finally speaks.

" My dear, you bring out the light in me no matter how much it dims.

How you seem to quell that darkness is beyond me. I see so many colors when I'm with you...

The reds of your passionate love, the soft yellow of your happiness when were together, the lingering orange of comfort that you have around me all the time. And that is not even touching the blues and purples when you watch me work with amazement."

Hwei reaches out to you, one hand caressing your cheek while the other reaches around your waist to pull you in. You laugh, watching how his eyes swirl, reds fading into yellows briefly before oranges transform before your eyes into cool blues and purples as he describes you, his usually melancholic smile warping into a warm bright one.

Your heart begins to race, something about how the shadows on his face visibly lighten with his smile, paired with the excitement bubbling out of him as he exposes his precious thoughts to you. How you wish you had a way to capture this moment just as he did by painting you.

He leans forward slowly, resting his forehead against yours as his gaze casts downwards, watching your lips, taking in the curve, the way it moves as they part to breathe. He was just so taken in by you.

" May I kiss you?"

He asks, barely a whisper, somehow still seemingly uncertain in this partnership that you two have had for so long. His gaze slowly moving back up to your eyes as he awaits your answer.

" I am forever baffled by how you always ask first. You know I'd always welcome your love."

You offer him a soft chuckle, the sparkle in your eyes further reassuring him of your sentiments.

You could never say no to his sweet affections, he was always so careful with you, so gentle, so soft. You were but the most precious thing in his life after all, a blindingly bright beacon of hope in his darkest hours. A stunning jewel of ever changing colors in the light of his mundane existence. If the painting that sits at arms length from you is a testament to anything, you knew he was oh so in love with you.

Hwei lets out a small laugh of his own.

" I just like the reassuring comfort of your answer."

As he finishes his sentence, he leans forward, closing that tiny gap between your lips. You smile into the kiss, you can't help it, the feeling of his dry, chapped lips against yours was so endearing. You note to remind him to hydrate later, almost forgetting how he just spent two hours non-stop painting you with fervent passion.

As he pulls away, Hwei holds you closer to him, pressing your body against his in a tight hug. A satisfied sigh escaping him.

" I love you."

" I love you too."

#IonianSunsets #Hwei Lukai #Lukai Hwei #I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM I LOVE HIM #lets love him together xoxo #Hwei x Reader #Hwei League of Legends #SCENARIOS #so soft so soft i love him #Hwei LoL #Hwei League #I WILL GO BACK TO ANSWERING ASKS #just needed to get the brainrot out #give thsi sweet little man a little kith #i couldnt sleep and had to get up and write this its 11am now LMFAO im so hungry #same hwei i kin u teehee #Hwei

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yes-i-write-fanfiction · 2 months

Note

Prayer AU idea combined with my own play about with Primus design. But like, going off your point of "divine glow, echoey voice, a fucking halo" what if it was a gradual "return" to a Primus-esc form.

Through drunkin ramblings of students at bars and whispered conversations in dank alleyways, the word of twink teacher god is spread about. People aren't all praying per-se, but they are believing. Esp those who believe they are abandoned by Primus, not knowing that Primus is the twink teacher.

I'm just thinking, there's a strange glow to his eyes but Rung doesn't think to much about it, he wears glasses and doesn't really see it (I have atrocious vision and can't distinguish well without my glasses). Although overtime his vision does start to get better but like at this point he likes the anonymity the glasses give.

But all the new believers, praying, but not wishing or at least something not easily solved through a miracle... he can't rid of the excess. Then one day he wakes up and suddenly he's got these new bits to his body, maybe that short train (I just like flowy bits even on bots), something like a split skirt, maybe its like that Coralus art with the cape and the thing at the audials, ect just a change thats hard to write off--still mostly Rung, but with a bit of that "return.

Not sure where to go but I have the funny thought of maybe the students try to sneak Rung out for some reason.

Rung, seeing his frame slowly change: Huh, bet that's nothing.

Student A: Fuck, we gotta cover this up somehow! But how?

Student B: I may have an idea...

Queue all the students adding stuff to their armor that looks similar to Rung's changes. Now everyone believes that it's just some kind of trend. Rung is like "Wow, I've never been a trend setter before" and feels honored that his students like him so much that they would emulate his appearance.

#transformers imagine #prayer au #rung

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lets-try-some-writing · 5 months

Note

Okay, I was reading the Mr. Pax Teacher Au and this idea popped in my head. So basically Optimus is finishing up a work day and a staff member comes up saying someone is here claiming to be his ‘wife’. Optimus questions the staff for a bit and then they reveal they have “pink hair”. Optimus then goes outside to see someone patiently waiting for him with a smile. (I’m a sucker for OptimusxElita, sue me!) Also Elita going “Yeah, you would.” Cause she just knows him. Hope this idea is fun for you!

Well I can't NOT write a snippet for this thank you. I have exactly two ships that I will devour without hesitation and Optimus/Elita happens to be one of them.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

Optimus's digits tapped on the desk along to the beat of a simple tune he hummed to himself as he looked over the day's papers. There were quite a few interesting pieces from his young archivists- students. His dear students. They showed such interest in the history he taught them. It was a joy to watch them grow and thrive under his tutelage.

"Abigail, you impress me yet again." He smiled as he looked over the girl's artwork. The assignment for the week had been to compose a model of something Cybertronian. Abigail, one of his more artistic students, had created quite the work of art. Despite having never seen any actual images of Optimus's fallen world, she managed to capture an admittedly quite accurate, if a tad abstract, vision of Uraya. It prompted his spark to flare in joy within his true frame.

"Mr. Pax, apologies for intruding." A feminine voice broke him from his work, prompting Optimus to place down his pile of paperwork and look up. Mrs. Glass, the school nurse, stood in the doorway nervously. She patted down her knitted sweater in what Optimus could only assume was anxiety considering the lack of any noticeable contaminant.

"Can I help you Mrs. Glass?" The nurse shifted uncomfortably before she nodded. Optimus stood up slowly, concern growing in his processors as he ran through the possible issues that might have arisen while he was working. Was the headmaster trying to tamper with affairs again?

"There is a woman outside who is claiming to be your wife." Optimus froze, his expression shifting as he tried to parse out what was happening. Arcee had already taken on the role of "aunt" for Jack. Being Optimus's wife would break her cover. It couldn't be June either for similar reasons.

Was he being stalked?

"Does she have any distinguishing features?" His expression settled into something firm as he readied himself to have to politely tell a confused woman that she had the wrong individual.

"She has pink hair and bright blue eyes. I think she might be wearing colored contacts." Whatever worry was settling into his spark halted the moment he got out the door and heard the nurse's explanation. Instead, faint hope grew steadily as he increased his pace and Mrs. Glass continued.

"She stated that her name was Ariel of Iacon. Although I am not sure where that city is-" Optimus stopped listening and broke into a sprint as he forced his holoform to go faster than it should have been able to according to human biology.

She couldn't be here.

He sent her away after the Allspark was taken from its place.

There was no way his Conjunx was on Earth after so many millennia apart.

"Being a teacher suites you." It was not the voice he knew, not entirely. There was none of the underlying glyphs or tones of their homeworld, but he knew her voice anywhere. He could never mistake her.

"Elita." He stepped out, his holoform momentarily flickering as Elita-One waited for him patiently, her arms crossed over her chest and a font smile on her face. He could almost see the mighty warrior that was his Conjunx through the veil of her disguise. He could hardly wait to wrap her in his arms properly as soon as they were away from prying optics.

"I missed you." She was the first to wrap her arms around him, organic as they were. Their forms melded in places as their holoforms struggled to maintain the illusion alongside their raging emotional states. However, Optimus found he didn't care as he looked into oh so human eyes and saw the spark of a Cybertronian hidden behind them.

She was here. He didn't know how or why, but Elita was here with him once more.

"I stopped by your base before I came here. I wanted it to be a surprise." She laughed as she nuzzled against his neck, searching for sensory lines that where not there. Optimus wrapped his limited EM field around her as he processed her presence and relished in it.

"It has been a most pleasant surprise to see you here after so long." Distantly, he noted Mrs. Glass watching from the school entrance. Optimus didn't bother looking back as he pulled away and took Elita's hands in his. The paperwork could be dealt with later. For now, there were bonds to be reforged, memories to share, and many long cycles apart to make up for.

"To base then?" Elita smiled up at him. Optimus could almost imagine her antennae perking up as he grinned in response.

"If that is what you want love."

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #elita one #alternate universe #teacher au #mr pax strikes again #now with his wife mrs pax #optimus x elita #oplita

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ktwritesstuff · 2 years

Text

The Professor (Pedro Pascal smut inspired by SNL)

Title: The Professor Fandom: RPF: Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU Rating: Explicit Characters & Pairings: Pedro Pascal (professor of Latin American Studies) x Reader (bedraggled PhD candidate) Word Count: ~2000 Summary: As if that SNL skit wasn't going to launch a thousand smut fics... As always, lovingly beta-read by @bs-fangirl. Additional notes below the cut.

Notes: This is my first "real person fic," may God have mercy on my soul. Additionally, my Spanish is virtually non-existent; I've relied heavily on Google Translate and asking my coworkers questions on the sly, my apologies for any errors! As we all know, this is not a story about actual human Pedro Pascal, but the fictionalized version which lives rent free in our heads. And as proper fan girl culture dictates, we keep this shit locked down. But just in case:

This note is for actual human Pedro Pascal and Pedro Pascal only. I don't know why you would click "Read More" on a post clearly labeled "Pedro Pascal, Hot for teacher AU" but if you have, I beg of you LOOK AWAY, SIR. LOOK AWAY. If you choose to proceed, I will not be responsible for any trauma you may suffer as a result. Thank you.

For everyone else, I give you:

The Professor

Professor Pedro Pascal was the head of the Latin American Studies department at your small college. You had never been in his classes as an undergrad–Latin American Fiction and Poetry, and a special seminar on the Magical Realism of Isabel Allende–but it was well known around campus that his family had fled Pinochet when he was a child, which granted him unsurprising street cred among your communist-leaning circle of friends. He had been appointed the interim director of the campus’s Literary Center–after his predecessor was ousted for exposing himself in a virtual meeting.

As the Center’s Graduate Assistant Director, it meant although he wasn’t technically your boss, you were suddenly spending an annoying amount of time working around the throngs of freshman girls who flocked to his office hours. You couldn’t really blame them. He was, if not an outright heartthrob, a reasonably good-looking college professor. A strong face, with a short, rugged beard, a striking Roman nose, and deep brown eyes with the most charming crow's feet. He had a lean physique, with a hint of softness at the belly, just this side of a “dad bod.”

His modest good looks combined with a cheerful disposition and a penchant for quoting the love poetry of Pablo Neruda were like catnip for liberal arts majors. And although you were a card-carrying bra-burning feminist, you weren’t entirely immune.

“Professor,” his office door was open, but you knocked on the frame.

Pedro looked up from the stack of resumes you had been sent to review before the selection panel for a new director.

“Coffee?”

“Mi angelita,” he sighed, rising from his desk to graciously accept the warm cup from your hands. “What time is the first candidate arriving?”

“Noon,” you said. “You, me, Dr. Monroe, the Provost, and Assistant Dean are sitting on the interview panel.”

Pedro looked at his watch.

“Shit,” he sighed. “I have Intro to Creative Writing at 9:30.”

“I’ll set up the conference room,” you said as he shoved his papers into his messenger bag, slinging it over his shoulder, still carrying the open mug as he raced down the stairs.

“Thank you, Angel. Thank you!”

It was a six month process to find a new director. Six months of staring across the conference table, chewing on the end of your pen, pretending not to be affected by the way he leaned in when you spoke and stroked his thumb across his lower lip in concentration. Or the obscene way he spread his legs in a comfortable chair while speaking with candidates in front of a panel of students.

And having to do it all over again when your first choice–a student favorite–declined the position, to stay in New Jersey of all things. You knew Pedro was relieved to have reached a conclusion; he didn’t care for the administrative duties or politics. He wanted to teach, to be with his students. You admired that about him, he appreciated your organizational skills (and the fact that when you made coffee it counted as a meal.) You worked well together, but now that was coming to an end.

It was past 9pm and you had already closed up the Literary Center for the night, but Pedro was still in his office, reviewing students’ papers.

“I’m done for the night, Professor,” you said. “Is there anything I can do to help you get out of here?”

“That depends,” he said, with a wry smile that had you convinced he was only half-kidding. “How’s your Spanish?”

“Hmm,” you said, stepping into the light of the desk lamp. “¿Dónde está la biblioteca? ¿Como estas? Bien, gracias. ¡Qué lluvia! And that’s all I’ve got.”

Pedro chuckled. “I’ve heard worse.”

“That and un tequila, por favor.”

“Tequila,” Pedro repeated, intrigued. He reached into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a bottle of Patron. “That I can help you with.”

Your mouth fell open in surprise.

“Professor,” you deadpanned. “I don’t know if you knew this, but alcohol is not permitted in academic buildings.”

"Lucky for me," he said, picking up the bottle. "I have tenure."

You laughed and Pedro laughed; you offered to run downstairs to retrieve a pair of glasses and a salt shaker from the kitchen while he finished grading papers in record speed.

“I worry about these kids,” Pedro said, three shots deep. “I do! The moment they hear something the least bit troubling, they refuse to engage with the material. Our world exists in shades of gray. They want things to be ideologically pure, when what they need is to learn to discern. To question. To decide!”

“I understand what you’re saying, Professor,” you said.

“Pedro, please,” he interrupted you. “Pedro.”

“Pedro,” you repeated. “I agree, but there’s no reason we need to elevate and spotlight the same tired canon of bigots, abusers, and dead white men year after year when there is so much more out there.”

Pedro downed another shot and pointed an accusing finger at you.

“Look who’s talking,” he said. “Your PhD is in Shakespeare Studies!”

“I know,” you laughed, pouring yourself another glass. “I know, I’m a terrible person.”

“You are not,” he said, suddenly serious. “You have an incredible mind and the most beautiful way of looking at the world.”

You felt languid and relaxed and warm. You liked the way Pedro looked at you. There was something undeniably romantic about getting drunk in the richly furnished office, with its leather armchairs and oak bookshelves, debating the merits of Nietzsche and bell hooks.

“Okay,” you broke the silence. “Okay, here’s a fun fact you can pass along to your successor. There are 3 prints signed by Allen Ginsberg in this building, and you can see them all from this desk.”

“There’s the one on the wall,” Pedro said, pointing to the framed portrait hanging above the bookshelf.

“Yes,” you said, rising from your chair and moving to the other side of the desk. “And there in the hallway, on the right, that's an excerpt from "Howl" they set in the printshop downstairs.”

You perched on the arm of his chair to get closer to his eye-level, pointing through the open door. You slipped, nearly falling into his lap and he placed a hand on your back to steady you. He smelled amazing, like old leather and warm spices.

“And there, in the stairwell, you can just make out the top of his head on that linotype,” you explained. “Do you see it?”

“I do.”

When you turned your head, Pedro was looking at you. Perhaps it was the tequila, but you were almost certain he was staring at your lips, his eyes heavily lidded, smiling lazily.

“You look tired,” you warned. You should have gotten up to leave, but you didn’t want to. You didn’t want this warm, lovely feeling to ever end.

“Just thinking,” he said.

“About what?”

“Kissing you,” he said.

You were almost surprised; you had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that your semester-long flirtation was a one-sided puppy crush. You had been so busy with your research and recruiting and planning, you had forgotten somewhere along the way that you were a stone cold fox with tits and ass for days and enough sex appeal to blow the top off Mount St. Helens.

“You can,” you said, turning your body toward him. “I don’t mind.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“Fine then,” you turned to stand.

Pedro seized you by the waist, pulling you back into his lap and into a long, slow kiss. His lips were surprisingly soft and his mouth tasted like salt and lime as his tongue brushed into yours with careful, confident strokes.

“That was nice,” your eyes fluttered open as Pedro finally pulled away. “You’re a good kisser.”

“You, too,” Pedro said. “Again?”

You tilted your chin, touching the point on your neck, just below your ear. As Pedro leaned in, working the beginnings of a hickey into your neck, you guided his hands from your waist to your breasts. You pressed against him, moving to straddle his thigh.

“More?” Pedro asked.

“Yes,” you panted. You braced yourself on the back of the chair, one hand on either side of his head, grinding against his leg, feeling hot and wet as he kneaded your breasts with reverent appreciation.

“Mi amor,” he breathed.

“Pedro,” you held his face, nipping at his bottom lip.

“Dime, lo qué quieres.”

“Fuck.” His accent went straight to your cunt. You ran one hand up his thigh, groping at the crotch of his chinos.

Pedro let out an obscene moan and hoisted you up onto his desk. He slid his hands up your thighs, fingers slipping into your panties. He ran his fingertips through your folds, tracing circles around the swollen nub of your clit with an absolute shit-eating grin.

“Qué lluvia.”

You howled with laughter. “I know that one! I know that one!”

“A huevo.”

Pedro rose from his chair, bunching your dress up around your waist. You pulled his shirt free from the waistband of his pants, running your hands up the warm skin of his back.

“Want you,” you sighed. “Want you inside me.”

“Whatever you want, Angelita.”

Pedro pulled your underwear down to your ankles, pausing to retrieve a condom from the wallet in his back pocket, like an over-eager undergrad, pulling down his pants to roll it on. He pressed the head of his cock against your clit. You grabbed him by the ass, wrapping your legs around him to guide him into you.

Pedro flicked his hips into you with short, quick strokes, sending jolts of energy through your core.

“More,” you pleaded breathlessly. “Deeper.”

Pedro lifted your ankles onto his shoulders, pressing into you long and slow until you could feel him bumping against your cervix. You gasped, reaching behind you, scrambling for leverage, knocking the computer monitor off the desk.

“Oh no!” You turned, trying to catch it before it crashed to the floor.

“It’s okay!” Pedro said, taking your face in his hands to guide your gaze back to his eyes. “It’s a shitty computer. It’s fine.”

You moaned, letting your head fall back, grabbing for his chest with one hand as he fucked you.

“So soft,” he moaned against your ear. “So fucking good for me, Angel.”

“Give me your hand,” you said, guiding his fingers back to your clit. “Up and down, right there. Oh God.”

You grabbed Pedro’s shoulder to brace yourself.

“I’m close,” he warned.

“Not yet,” you pleaded. “Just a little more.”

You could feel your own climax building inside you. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Oh God!”

Pedro came inside you with a gasp as your inner walls clenched around him. He slowly withdrew, supporting your legs, and easing you onto your back, scattering papers and pens onto the floor. He kissed your neck and your breasts as his hands explored the curves of your body.

You woke the next morning on the couch in Pedro’s office. You were lying on top of him; your head on his chest. He had his arms around you, your head was pounding as you squinted into the daylight.

“We got fucked up last night?” you said.

“Yup.”

“It was nice."

"It was," Pedro agreed, kissing the top of your head as you blinked sleep from your eyes.

"What time is it?”

You grabbed his forearm, turning it so you could look at the face of his watch.

“Oh shit,” you gasped. “I have Freshman Seminar in half an hour.”

“I already missed my morning classes,” Pedro moaned, letting his head fall back against the armrest.

“Do you want to explain to Dr. Monroe why I can’t teach her class?” you said, rising from the couch and searching the office floor for your underpants.

“No,” Pedro said. “She scares me.”

You pulled your underwear back on, finding your bag, you used the satin scarf tied around the handle to cover the love-bites blooming on your throat and chest. You dabbed concealer under your eyes and added a fresh coat of red lipstick.

“Would you like to have lunch together? Not at the Caf. Somewhere nice, like a date.” Pedro asked, sitting up. He looked endearingly child-like with his bedhead and giant brown eyes.

You paused, checking your reflection in your compact mirror.

“Can we do that?” you asked.

“I don’t see why not,” he said. “You were never my student and after this week we won’t even work together any more.”

“Oh,” you nodded. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”

“I’ll pack things up here and meet you after class.”

You smiled. “I’ll see you then.”

#rpf: pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #hot for teacher AU #mr. ben has us in a chokehold #mr. ben snl #pedro pascal x you

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valeriwa · 11 months

Text

conjuring romance

iwaizumi hajime x fem!reader

hogwarts!au

entry for the amazing @a1sh1teruu's stuck in summer collab

wc: 3.2k

"i don't think this is a good idea," akaashi said as he watched you and bokuto take out your wands. the grounds were lush and green, with the heavy sun beating over it. summer is a terrible, terrible torture.

"liven up, 'kaashi! besides, all we're trying to do is conjure a bit of snow, right?" you replied, a bright smile on your face as you read the spell from the book bokuto is so graciously holding open for you. the trees swayed in anticipation as if relieved to be nearly rid of the unthinkable heat.

akaashi muttered words of disapproval under his breath before ultimately deciding to help you out. you grinned when you noticed him coming over. he couldn't resist the possibility of snow and after all, he always was swept up with your and bokuto's antics.

"warmed up to the idea, eh?" you winked and nudged him with your elbow. flicking your wrist at what was hopefully the correct angle, you vocalise the incantation and wait. and keep on waiting.

"did it not work?" bokuto shook the book as if snow would fall out of it.

"delayed magic?" you didn't think that existed but the possibility hung in the air.

"there's no such thing as delayed magic."

"way to ruin our hopes and dreams, 'kaashi."

you stood there, with bokuto (still shaking the book, albeit less vigorously) and akaashi. you pursed your lips, wondering if you should try it one more time.

"maybe the magic was... postponed?" bokuto offered hopefully, now having discarded the book. akaashi sighed, tipping his head towards the sky before immediately looking down again because the sun was too bright to even admire the blue, cloudless sky.

"like a postponed train?" you added, trying to cling to the weak thread of hope bokuto provided. you looked around, trying to see if there were any fallen snowflakes you hadn't noticed but instead you just saw a figure in the distance.

"is that... a teacher?" you murmured, as he wasn't wearing hogwarts robes but it could've been a student as well. you weren't sure.

"that is not a teacher." akaashi squinted, not recognizing the man as one of the faculty members. he kicked the discarded book with his heel just in case though.

the man kept coming closer, and it was clearer to see his face now. short, dark hair, but it suited him. as well as a strong frame, not big like bokuto but firm and sturdy. tan skin, olive green eyes that glinted golden in the sun.

your eyes widened, who was this man? bokuto stepped in front of you as the man started going right up to you.

"what's your problem buddy?" bokuto was taller and larger, but somehow this stranger seemed more intimidating. his eyes shifted to you, partially obscured by bokuto.

"she's the one who called me." your jaw dropped at his statement, what the heck did that mean?

akaashi's eyes slid to yours, then to the book he kicked away. he hesitated before picking up the book, opening the first page. there it was, in big bold letters, RESTRICTED; NOT FOR STUDENTS.

"are you kidding me?" akaashi had targeted the question to you, making you spin around in confusion at his harsh tone. you winced when you saw him holding open the first page.

"well, you see. um, about that..." you trailed off, because you had really no explanation. i mean, yes, akaashi was a stickler for the rules but he enjoyed the occasional bending of them.

"you just conjured a person!" that made you gasp, your hands flying to your mouth.

"i did not."

"yes you did."

"no way."

bokuto interrupted, jerking his head towards the man you had supposedly conjured.

"um, what's your name?" you tried, hoping he was not somebody you just conjured out of thin air. you didn't even think that was possible. wasn't this against the rules of magic? oh no, did you just inadvertently dabbled in the dark arts?

"iwaizumi hajime." oh god, his voice. the soft, smooth letters wrapped in a dark velvet. hearing him felt like biting into a rich, layered chocolate.

your throat was dry by thinking you had probably just committed the biggest crime known to wizardkind.

"i thought we were gonna make it snow... not summon hot guys." you grimaced at bokuto's blunt words. but he was right. you're not quite sure how this happened even if you did use a restricted spell. was it really the dark arts?

"um, iwaizumi. do you know how you got here?" he slowly shook his head, crushing your spirit further.

"i was in another realm, i think." his words just confused you further.

"what do you mean by another realm?" akaashi questioned, rummaging through the book.

"it wasn't like this place, it was hazy like a dream." you looked up in frustration only to be blinded by the cause of your misery, the sun.

"we should get inside. it's too hot." you gesture them to follow you. the room of requirement should be perfect, since iwaizumi was not to be seen by anybody, especially a teacher.

"what is this place?" iwaizumi asked, his eyes scanning every inch of the room. bokuto nudged him, grinning, "it's awesome, isn't it?" he just nodded in response.

you sat down on the loveseat, akaashi taking a place next to you. iwaizumi kept standing, staring at you. despite being inside, you felt hotter than you did when you were trying to conjure snow.

"so what's the plan?" that was bokuto. only, after he asked the question, he yelped.

"quidditch! i'm late for practice. see you guys around. let me know what happened with the hot guy!" bokuto yelled, practically sprinting. you shouted to keep 'the hot guy' a secret but you weren't sure if he heard. praying that the head on his shoulders worked properly and he would have the common sense not to divulge the information, you turned to akaashi.

"so, what is the plan?"

"i can't believe you conjured a living, breathing person."

"please, you know i'm a genius." you fanned yourself, as if you were tired from greeting all your fans (you didn't have any sans bokuto and sometimes akaashi).

"are you going to unconjure me?" iwaizumi spoke up, his voice rattling you again. damn his sultry sounding voice, why did every word he let out feel like a plot to seduce you?

"well, you can't exactly live here," akaaashi said, gesturing him to sit down on one of the single seater sofas. he did, although reluctant.

"i see." was that it? a bit anticlimactic.

"um, well. is there an unconjuring spell, 'kaashi?" you leaned in closer to get a look of the pages. he flipped the pages quite fast, but you were sure you saw frog revivals on one of them. wizards were weird. but then again, frogs were cute so you couldn't exactly blame them.

"i think i'm going to have to speak with a professor."

"no! don't do that, we'll get in trouble!" your voice was a bit loud, startling both the boys.

"i won't mention iwaizumi, or you for that matter. it'll be alright, they know i wouldn't do anything illegal." the emphasis on the last word made you recoil, and you offered an apologetic smile.

"you should stay here with iwaizumi, just in case. keep him hidden." he had already stood up, the book in his bag and his face set in determination. he left the two of you, alone in the room of requirement.

you. alone. with a man. the man of your dreams. you often daydreamed, a strong man with a slight tan and a soft side reserved for you.

"i'm so sorry iwaizumi. i'm sure you don't want to be here." he tilted his head at your words, as if confused.

"why would you say that? i don't mind being here." his words made you splutter, coughing on your saliva. iwaizumi walked over to you in two long strides, stroking your back to relieve you of your coughing fit.

but that only made you warmer, his firm hands on your back. up, down, up, down. it felt insane. you knew the blood rushed to your cheeks, but you weren't sure if it was visible.

"um.. i'm fine now."

"okay." he didn't stop stroking your back. up, down, up, down. you were semi sure that your breathing was steady, so you turned to look at him.

"you realize that me conjuring you, accidental or not, is like a wizarding capital violation. um, basically if they think i summoned you with ill intent, i could be executed." when the words roll off your tongue, it puts everything into perspective. how deep you were in dogshit. very, very deep. the man in front of you suddenly went from the hot guy you accidentally conjured, into the reason you may not live a very long life.

"you didn't conjure me." was his response, his face was still blank but his eyes had softened and his tone was warmer. he had stopped stroking your back, letting his hand rest on your lower back, above your hips.

"what? you said i did. you told me i called you here."

"yes, you summoned me."

"what's the difference?"

"you didn't conjure me out of thin air. i already existed and you called me into your world. i'm sure you can send me back, if that's what you desire."

you bit your lips, the realization settling in. you were a little frustrated that he didn't say anything before but you can't really blame him. he was in an unfamiliar place with strangers that had summoned him for the heck of it - sure, you were trying to conjure snow but that's not what ended up happening.

"but akaashi took the book with him. i'm sure there's nothing about sending someone into another realm in the books available to students."

iwaizumi's eyes glittered, and his lips turned up into a devious smile. your breath hitched, and you swallowed down whatever was rising up. want. desire. a little bit of need? god, you were desperate.

"what about the books not available to students?"

"the restricted section? i can't go in there alone, my heart would hammer out of my chest. bokuto went in with me last time, and we were almost caught!" you were fretting, your eyes looking anywhere but him and that smile.

"who said you'd go alone?" his steady answer made you meet his gaze, his sure, dependable gaze. you breathed out, your shoulders relaxing.

"ok, let's go. and let's hope that akaashi doesn't return before we do."

you two made your way to the library, slipping in as stealthily as you could. it would be hell for you if you two were caught now. he was close behind you, and his presence enveloped you. the scent of ink and pages filled the air. the creaky floorboards were comforting too, though risking your stealthy mission.

"you must keep quiet, and stay close to me." you whispered, murmuring a spell shortly afterwards to open the door to the restricted section.

"i will." his mouth was somewhere near your ear and he must've bent slightly to whisper his affirmation. his lips grazed the top of your ear as he straightened and you had to close your eyes for a second just to gather yourself.

you moved ahead, sticking to the shelves and staying in the shadows. you heard muffled footsteps and your head whipped around to iwaizumi in alarm.

in one swift move, iwaizumi pushed into an alcove next to the shelves, cloaked in darkness. his hands were on either side of your head, resting against the wall. his breath was quickened, and yours was too. he turned to face you, his lips parting when he realized the position he was in.

the door clattered, and the sound made you panic and you did the most reasonable thing you could think; you gripped iwaizumi's shirt and pulled him closer into you. he let himself be pulled, crashing into you with a grunt.

"sorry. i panicked." your words were barely above a whisper, and you found it difficult to talk. you could see he was breathing hard, and now you doubted it was because he would get caught. his chest was hard, and sturdy just like you had thought when you first saw him walk towards you. and oh lord, his arms. he could put you in a headlock and you'd thank him.

"it's okay. are you okay?" the soft, velvety voice warmed you into a puddle. but you just nodded against him.

the noises stopped and you believed the coast was clear. although, you really didn't mind the position you were in. just as you were going to clear your throat in hopes of getting rid of this awkward tension, you felt his rough hands move from the wall to your jaw. the movement was gentle and your breath hitched.

you looked up at him, and his expression was soft. one corner of his lips was upturned, and you felt like honey in his hands. slowly, he leaned down, the air between you growing warmer. you could hardly believe what was happening, a small gasp escaping you.

"can i..." he started, "kiss you?"

you didn't trust yourself to reply, so you closed your eyes and pressed your lips on his. the suddenness of your actions made him groan, his other hand slipped down to wrap around your waist to pull you closer against him. your hands which were at your sides interlocked behind his neck.

breathless, you separated. his face was flushed, and a shy smile on yours.

"that was nice."

he chuckled at your words, but nodded.

"i think it was better than nice." he whispered against your mouth, catching your bottom lip with his teeth. you smiled, kissing him again. you could stay pressed up against him like this forever. forever? you opened your eyes mid-kiss, suddenly too aware of his mouth on yours, the softness of his lips, his callused fingertips that grazed your waist underneath your shirt. suddenly, it was all too much.

he felt you freeze up, eyes fluttering open and creating some distance between the two of you. you could see concern dancing in his eyes, but you were too overwhelmed to ease it. the very existence of this man could quite easily decimate your career, your life as you know it.

iwaizumi's mouth parted to say something, but he thought better of it, clearing his throat and putting in some more distance. he saw the hesitation, the regret in the way your eyebrows furrowed and your easy smile was displaced. he doesn't like people regretting to kiss him.

"we should find that book." his voice was heavy, not the same coarse velvet you heard earlier.

your mind felt hazy, thinking of the consequences and his lips. clearing your throat as if it could clear the desire that hung in the air, you pushed out of the alcove.

"the book should be around here," you started perusing the shelves, very aware of iwaizumi's presence. you could almost feel his irritation in his steps, exasperation coming off of him in waves.

your fingers brushed the spines, walking along the shelves and shelves of books collecting dust. iwaizumi stopped a few paces behind you, and his sudden lack of movement prompted you to stop and look at him.

"i think i found the book you're looking for," he murmured, looking into your eyes as he slid the book out of the shelf. he looked less annoyed and a bit more rueful actually. you swallowed down whatever emotion was rising up your throat, gently taking the book from his hands. your fingers grazed his, they were warm.

you opened the book, trying to find the spell. fingers tracing the old parchment, yellowed by its age, you couldn't keep your attention slipping towards the man in front of you. your lips still felt like they're on fire, and the place on your hips where his hands touched you feel warm.

"i think it's this one..." you showed the page to iwaizumi, "it says how to reverse a summon." he nodded, face twisting into something more solemn.

your hands shook as you muttered the phrase, embedding it into your mind. locking your eyes with his, you could almost taste the regret hanging in the air in dense clouds.

"sorry. for everything. i shouldn't have brought you here." your voice was just above a whisper but he heard you.

"not your fault. don't blame yourself." his fist clenched at his side in restraint, he couldn't not want to touch you. comfort you. the sight made you ache, but by now you had memorized the incantation.

there was no time for aching. it was time to send him back.

"revertus regressum."

"did you hear?" bokuto asked, slipping in between you and akaashi on a bench in the great hall. the professors never really minded when houses intermingled.

"hear what?" you pop a grape in your mouth, your face scrunching at the sour taste.

"apparently, there's a transfer student arriving." at this, akaashi perked up but mostly in confusion.

"at this time of the year?"

bokuto nodded, conspiratorially leaning in to whisper, "he's in our year."

scoffing, you muttered, "transferring towards the end of the year? he's obviously a troublemaker."

"that's rich coming from you; ten minutes ago, you asked bokuto to tag along when you'll steal a restricted book." akaashi's narrowed eyes made the blow sting more.

but before you could say anything, you saw him. black hair, olive green eyes, and a body you'd die to get your hands on. you swore you could only dream of men like that.

redirecting his gaze where you were looking, bokuto snapped his fingers in enthusiasm, "that's him! the transfer!"

you couldn't tear your eyes away, entranced in the way he moved. a little stiff, but confident. dominating.

"what's his name?" akaashi asked, tilting his head as he stared. there was something weirdly familiar about him.

"it was something like zumba," bokuto said, thinking hard. you made a face, swatting his arm, attention on him instead.

"the dance? are you serious? think harder." you were looking at bokuto as he tried to remember. you hadn't noticed that the transfer had stood up at this point.

"surely it was hazumi," his face made it sure that it was, in fact, not hazumi. light footsteps made their way towards you. akaashi's lips turned at the corners, and he kept eating.

"if i hit your head, will it come back to you?" you threatened, raising your arm.

"hey hey, let's not be violent," he said, trying to sound pacifying, "oh wait! i remember! it was iwa-"

"iwaizumi hajime."

you gasped. fuck me. his voice is like velvet.

#valeriwa. writes #collab : STUCK IN SUMMER #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hogwarts #hogwarts au #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu drabbles #haikyuu imagines #iwaizumi headcanons #iwaizumi fluff #akaashi keiji #bokuto koutarou

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