#what I have been told by the other teachers in the building is that I am too hard on myself | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanaromanov · 24 days

Text

my sweet assistant

- professor!natasha x lawyer!wanda x reader

part summary: you take a position in assisting professor romanoff after classes to make up for a missed assignment. your flustered state only continues as you’re forced to spend one-on-one time with her, even more so when her wife is introduced into the equation…

part warning(s): teacher/student relationship, age gap (r is of age), power dynamics, married wandanat (no cheating), pet names, mentions of anxiety, mentions of bad family relations, minor death, funeral etc. minors dni

authors note: this took me a bit longer to write and release than i would have liked thanks to my broken arm and writers block so apologies for that. but even tho i kinda hate it, it’s here now, so i hope you enjoy! :)

part two of the inescapable love series

inescapable love series

･｡ﾟ*. 18+, minors DNI . * ｡ﾟ･

11.5K words

People say life comes with its ups and downs, something you had come to learn was rather true, but why did it always seem the downs came at the worst of times? A call from your mother was never really a good sign to begin with, usually her nagging being the only thing waiting on the other end of the line, but this time when you picked up and heard what she had to say, not good turned to terribly bad. It wasn’t the extent of the problem as such that worried you, more so the timing. Your Russian class had an assignment coming up, due in less than a week, and thinking you had enough time to get round to it, you still hadn’t started. Something that would have been totally fine if not for your mom’s name popping up on your phone last night and sharing news that would throw your entire schedule off.

The way your mom had picked up the phone had immediately informed you something was wrong, but a death announcement was certainly the last thing you had been expecting to hear on a Sunday night. It was your grandmother, on your dad’s side. She’d passed away over the weekend, finally giving up on the hospice care she’d been dependent on for months. The news itself hadn’t been too much of a shock, the old woman’s health deteriorating for years, and it didn’t much upset you either. You’d never really been close to your grandmother, your brother being the one favoured from your family, keeping you distanced whenever you visited her house. Your teenage self had already mourned for the relationship you had never had and that felt more painful than the actual loss in front of you now.

The main thing concerning your mind now was how you were going to complete your assignment. On the phone, your mom had told you she’d already booked the flights for you coming home, prepared for the funeral just that week, a quick turn around due the arrangements been made in advance from the anticipation of her death. It would see you in England the entirety of the week, leaving tomorrow afternoon and not returning until late Friday evening. Even with the extra days you had at home, the funeral tea and family gatherings would no doubt leave you no time at all to complete your assignment.

You knew what you had to do now, had done it many times before for other classes, but something about this time felt more intimidating. As you sat in the lecture theatre, watching your professor teach at the front of the class, your heart pounded in your chest at the thought of asking for the extension. More time alone would have to be spent with your Russian professor, the last time still lingering unwanted in your mind. The thought of speaking to her one on one once more was enough to send your anxious mind into a frenzy.

Desperately, you tried to cling on to the reality of things as your lesson continued. It was the day of the week where your class would practice your Russian speaking, conversing with one another whilst Professor Romanoff would walk around, listening in and correcting any mispronunciations. In the end, it would build up to the speaking exam the end of semester held, a private conversation that each student would have with your professor which was then graded alongside your written tests.

The girl sat beside you had claimed the spot as your partner when the first speaking lesson had started up, thankfully not the same girl who’d passed you dirty looks after your perfectly scored paper. The two of you worked through the worksheet in front of you, sounding out the words and building them up into a conversation. Your partner seemed slower than you to grasp the concepts, but you found you didn’t quite mind, allowing your thoughts the moments in between to plan exactly how you’d make your request to Professor Romanoff.

When the class had finally drawn to a close, everyone began packing up their things, worksheets handed back down towards the front. Professor Romanoff stood against her desk, collecting papers as she shouted out across the clamouring hall. “Remember your assignment is due on Friday everyone. Do not use google translate. I can tell!”

It seemed your class wasn’t paying her announcement much notice, instead focused on making it out of the double doors and out into the corridor. Like you had done before, you packed away your things slowly, lingering in the row of seats until almost everyone had left the room. Only when the last few stragglers were close to the door, did you begin your descent towards the central desk. Professor Romanoff stood wiping clean the board once again, back facing you. This time, however, you cleared your throat to make your presence known. The woman’s face was slightly bewildered as she turned, melting away immediately as she spied you standing across the way, a smile appearing on her lips instead. “Miss Y/L/N,” she said, wiping the chalk dust away from her hands and turning back to close the distance between you. “Is everything alright?”

"Uhm, yes," you said nervously, watching as the woman came to stand in front of you. "Well...no, but-" You shook your head, attempting to dispel the anxious thoughts that clouded your brain. Fingers began to fidget as you looked back up at your professor with a nervous smile. "I was wondering if I could possibly get an extension for the assignment?" The redhead in front of you raised a single brow, looking inquisitive to your scenario and hence, drawing more of and explanation from your chest. "It's just my grandma passed away and I have to fly back to England for her funeral this week. I'm not going to be back till Friday night and with all the travelling and family stuff and jet lag, I probably won't have enough time to do it." Your hands gestured about, trying to find anything else to do rather than anxiously pick at your nail beds. "I don't need a long extension, maybe just till Monday? I can get it done over the weekend when I'm back."

The spill of words finally fell short in the silent room, your blurting echoing ever so slightly in the emptiness of the hall. Professor Romanoff stood in front of you, today wearing a matching black skirt and blazer, a white shirt neatly tucked in. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandmother." Your gaze raised up to the pair of green eyes as she spoke, a soft expression held between her features. "Are you doing alright?"

The question had came unexpectedly. You shook your head as you answered. "Oh yeah, I'm fine." You smiled sheepishly, shrugging your shoulders. "We were never close."

"Well," Professor Romanoff replied, gaze softening further. "I'm still sorry to hear about her." She passed you a gentle smile as she stepped towards her desk, leaning against the front of it like it seemed she had a habit of doing. When she looked back up at you, her expression had changed. "As for an extension..." Her emerald stare met yours, always seemingly able to make you shy away. "You're a good student Y/N, so I'd really like to say yes, but unfortunately I have a policy against extensions."

Your memory fleeted back to the first day of class, suddenly recalling the rules your professor had set out. Extensions would only be given to those with medical absence, provided they had a document signed by a health professional. Only remembering that now, you felt entirely stupid for asking for the extension in the first place. "That's right," you blurted. "I'm so sorry, I totally forgot. Listen, forget I even said anything." You adjusted the straps of your backpack as you made to turn your body towards the door. "I'll try get it done on the plane or something. Thank you anyway."

You made it about three steps away before you heard your name being called out from behind you. Slowly, you turned your shoulders, looking back at the woman who still sat against her desk. "Yes, Miss Romanoff?" you called in response. A single manicured nail raised up, the finger curling to beckon you back in the direction you'd came. Biting down on the skin of your cheek, you turned fully, slowly closing the gap that had formed between you and your professor. When you stood in front of her again, you began to rub one of your arms nervously.

Professor Romanoff inclined her head towards you, a faint smile on her painted lips. "I can't give you an extension but I can offer you an alternative. Some extra credit that will cover the assignment, worth the same percentage of your grade. And I'll even give you the full marks."

Your head angled in both curiosity and uncertainty. The prospect of the extra credit sounded like just what you needed, but you couldn't quite grasp the notion that your professor was suggesting. "Full marks?" you asked. "As in, a hundred percent on the assignment?"

A painted smirk pulled at the corner of your professor's mouth, her body leaning ever so slightly closer to yours. "Don't act like it's such a miracle, sweetie. We both know what you're capable of, hm?"

As her words hit you, you could immediately feel the warmth they brought to your cheeks. Face feeling flushed, you tried to distract your brain, unfocusing on the perfect pair of lips still smirking in your direction. "What would I have to do for the extra credit?"

Professor Romanoff sighed, adjusting herself on the desk. You diverted your eyes as her arms crossed her body, once again pushing her slightly-revealed cleavage up against her chest. "Well, my assistant for this year pulled out on me last minute, which has left me just drowned in work." Green eyes met yours as a wide smile spread across the redhead's lips. "So, just give me a helping hand after class for a few weeks and the credit is all yours."

This proposal seemed almost too good to be true. Simply helping out your professor in turn for a perfect grade? It almost didn't seem fair. As you thought over her offer, the idea couldn't help but make you feel a little flustered. After all it would entail spending time alone with the red haired woman, something that seemed to leave you an oddly ruffled mess. But the entire thing sounded far too good to pass up, an opportunity practically laid out on a silver platter. Sounding easy enough to follow through with, you nodded your head with a smile. "Yeah, I can do that."

The smile on Professor Romanoff's face widened at your agreement. "Perfect," she said, green eyes glinting. "Can I see you back here next Monday? Say...three pm?"

You nodded once more. "Yeah. That works for me."

"Alright then," the redhead replied. She stood up from her desk, smiling down on you from the height accentuated by her heeled boots. "Don't you worry your pretty head about the assignment and I'll just see you here next week."

The words seemed to wash over you with a flush, something igniting inside that you couldn't quite put a finger on. Nervously, you looked to the floor, picking at the ends of your jumper while Professor Romanoff moved to stand behind her desk, seemingly unaware of your heightened nervousness. Before you could properly formulate a response, the other woman was already speaking once more. "Go on then. Don't want to be late for your next class do you?"

Her words seemed to shake you back to the present, that nervous little smile appearing on your face again. "Right," you said, adjusting your backpack. "Thank you, professor."

She smiled back at you. "It's no problem, honey. Now run along."

You found yourself nodding as you turned to leave, urged on by her commands. A few steps away she called out to you. "Take care of yourself, Y/N."

You looked back over your shoulder, flashing a small smile. "I will Miss Romanoff. Thank you." And with that, you were walking out the door, headed towards your next class with you mind focused on what exactly your assistant duties with Professor Romanoff may entail.

———

"When are you back again?"

"Friday night. About nine-ish?"

You passed the raven-haired girl a quick glance over your shoulder as you continued to fold the items of clothing in your hand. A loud sigh filled the space as you heard Kate roll over in her bed, rustling the top of her sheets. "That's four whole days of you leaving me completely alone."

As you placed the last of your clothes into the open suitcase, you swiveled around to look at Kate. Your brow furrowed as you noticed your best friend sprawled dramatically across the covers. "Kate, you do realised we have other friends?" you replied with a soft sigh.

But it seemed the girl took no notice, throwing her hand up to cover her eyes as another noise of discomfort slipped from her lips. "I'm gonna look like such a loser at breakfast." The truth was that the pair of you did have more friends at university, with whom Kate could definitely speak to while you were away, despite how the majority of the time it was always just the two of you. This could be down to the fact you were the only ones still sharing a dorm on campus, most of your friends having moved out to apartments around the city. You and Kate had looked into that option but your loan wasn't enough to cover the rent, so you'd both settled to remain in the on-campus accommodation, still sharing your meals in the wide dining hall.

You sighed again. "I'm sorry my grandma dying is such an inconvenience to you." At that, Kate shot up in bed, immediately looking less irritated and instead concerned. The way you smiled playfully back at her, however, made her brows drop ever so slightly, the fear of her actions hurting you slipping away. You'd already told her you weren't all that bothered by the passing, more so annoyed by the bother of it all, but it seemed despite how dramatic she could be, Kate was still worried about your feelings. "Relax Bishop," you said, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "You know I'm kidding. I hate the fact I'm going just as much as you do." With all the hustle of trying to get through your work that day, you hadn't had much time to think about the reality of going home. Now packing your things, the dread of it all was beginning to settle on your shoulders. Still, you forced a smile on your lips as you walked across to Kate's bed, sitting yourself down next to her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving but I'll make it up to you, yeah?"

Just then, a spark seemed to light up in Kate's eyes. She turned to you, a wide smirk plastered on her lips. "Will you come to a party with me?" The proposal was one Kate often brought up, and one that was just as often shut down. Whenever Kate was getting ready to go out for a night, you were always cooped up in your textbooks, ignoring her complaints of how you studied too much and focusing instead on memorising every piece of material on the paper. For three years, your best friend has had to drag you to every party you'd ever been to, sometimes even snatching the book from your hands and then pleading you with puppy dog eyes. Those same eyes looked at you now, silently begging.

"Fine," you said finally, causing Kate to throw her hands up in the air. You raised your hand before her excitement could get out of hand. "But only one and not until after midterms."

The girl looked slightly disheartened but her smile still remained wide. "Fine," she replied, looking to already be planning the event she'd drag to you in a few weeks time. As Kate settled herself back in her bed, you stood to cross the room, returning to your almost-packed suitcase. You placed the last item in one side - a long black coat Kate had let you borrow to wear to the funeral - then zipped up the first half. All the other half was missing was your toiletries bag, of which would have to wait until the morning to be packed. As you were closing things up, you threw a comment to Kate over your shoulder. "I spoke to my Russian professor today about that extension for the assignment, remember?"

You heard Kate's head turn towards you, becoming distracted from her party planning. "Oh yeah, what'd she say?"

As the final zip on your suitcase closed, you turned back around to your best friend. "She doesn't really do extensions so she said I can help out after class instead to make up my grade."

Kate's brow furrowed. "What, like an assistant?"

"Yeah, exactly. Hers apparently dropped out so I'm filling in for a few weeks." You bent down to push your suitcase under your bed, ready to go tomorrow morning, then stood again, shrugging your shoulders. "She said she'll give me the equivalent of full marks for the assignment."

"Wait, what?" Kate shot up in bed, her jaw hanging slack. "You just help her plan a couple lessons and get a free ride to a perfect score?"

You breathed out a laugh, not only at Kate's theatric tone but also at the improbable truth of the scenario. It hadn't really hit you until now how easy you had it, an exceptional gateway to an easy 'A'. "Yeah," you giggled out, taking a seat on your bed. "I mean, she said I'm a good student so she expected me to do well anyway." You tried to ignore the strange tingle in your head as you recounted your professor's words, instead focusing on Kate who flung herself up in her bed.

"Dude," she said, looking at you incredulously. Her eyes shifted, looking down to the floor. "Maybe I should have taken Russian this year."

Another laugh spilled from your lips as you stood, closing the gap between you and your best friend. "I think you should focus on the classes you're already taking." Your hand reached out for Kate's pulling her up from her bed before she could get a chance to reply. "Now, let's go get dinner. I'm starving."

———

The setting sun streamed in through the wide windows of Natasha's office. The entire room was painted in a soft orange glow, guiding the redhead as she finally began to pack up for the night. Today had been a long day for her, her daily schedule packed and evening full of essay marking that needed to be completed by tomorrow. Finally, Natasha had managed to get finished up, closing her laptop and packing away her notes for the night. She tucked them away into her bag to bring to work the next day before shutting off the lamp inside the room and retiring from her office for the night.

Her feet padded across the wooden floors as she made her way out of the home office. The sun's glow followed her, let in by the expansive windows her and Wanda's house contained. When she reached the living room, Natasha spied her wife curled up on the corner of their sofa, a blanket draped over her legs and an open book sat in her hands. Her footsteps were silent as she made her way over to the other redhead. Though she imagined her wife had still felt her approach, as she didn't flinch when Nat's hands came down for a hug from behind. Natasha's arms wrapped around her wife, a small hum escaping her lips as she pressed a gentle kiss to the pulse point of her neck. "Baby," Natasha whispered, her voice low. Wanda simply hummed in response, her eyes still focused on her novel, her attention only slightly skewed when Natasha leaned in closer, pressing more kisses down the skin of her neck.

"I need to speak to you about something." Natasha's voice remained low, her words fanning out on to her wife's collar bones. She'd been waiting for this moment now for a while, anticipating just the right time to bring up her scenario to her wife. The thoughts had been circling her head for a small while now, perhaps longer than she liked to admit, but she found she couldn't wait any longer to share.

"What is it, moya lyubov?" Wanda's eyes finally raised from her book, head turning over her shoulder to look up at her wife. Though, this position didn't last long, as Natasha lifted her legs and swung herself over the back of the couch, landing in a position beside her wife. This was a habit Wanda hated, forever telling Natasha to 'use her legs like an adult', but this time she didn't have time to pester the redhead as she'd already began to speak. "Do you remember that student we spoke about? The one that got the perfect score."

The slight look of annoyance from Nat's behavior was quickly replaced by an inquisitive expression as Wanda furrowed her brow. The redhead finally closed her book on her lap, sliding a bookmark into place. "Yeah, I do. What was her name again?"

"Y/N Y/L/N."

Wanda hummed, a small smiling appearing on her lips. "That's it. Cute name. What about her?"

Natasha inhaled, her mind passing over the already scripted conversation she'd created. "I spoke with her again today. Came in asking for an extension for an assignment." The redhead smiled, remembering the interaction from that morning. She took another deep breath before she uttered the next words from her mouth. "I think I've maybe taking a liking to her."

"Oh?" Wanda's eyebrows raised, her expression changing to one of surprise. It wasn't new that the couple were searching for someone else in their relationship, the openness of the topic having been in circulation almost since the two had first got together. But the surprise came from the fact Nat had perhaps found someone she believed could slot into their duo, her and Wanda's standards usually far too rigid to find anyone to spend more than a night with. If Natasha was bringing up a girl like this, she must have seriously considered the possibility of a longer association, and that thoroughly intrigued Wanda.

"Now," Natasha continued. "Of course I don't want to do anything we don't both agree on, but..." She paused for just a moment, smiling a little up at her wife. "I would be lying if I said I hadn't already been playing around with her. Just a little bit." Natasha held up her fingers, signaling the small amount of teasing she'd subjected her prized student to. "You know, I didn't want to come asking your permission for a girl who turned out to be a bore."

The more Natasha continued to talk, the more Wanda became interested and invested by the conversation at hand. She slowly slipped her book to the couch beside her, leaning in closer towards her wife. "And is she?"

A wide smirk appeared on Natasha's lips as she relished in her wife's question. "Not in the slightest." Her expression only deepened as she recalled the little moments of you she'd been observing in class. "She's so fucking cute," she said, stating the obvious right off the bat. "She's always early for class and always paying so much attention. She shows up in the sweetest little outfits, like she doesn't even know how good she looks." The redhead smiled as she remembered the sight of you in your small summer dresses or slightly oversized sweaters. "Oh," she said, reminded of her favourite bit of all. "And she has this adorable little English accent."

With the last of her wife's words, a similar looking smirk began to appear on Wanda's own face. "Well now I'm intrigued.”

Natasha smiled back at her words as she shrugged a shoulder. "As I said, I played around a little bit and Wands..." The redhead had to suppress a sigh as she reached for her wife's hand. "I just know how much fun she'd be," she continued, her voice almost a whine. "I mean, she gets flustered so easily. One little pet name and she's already hiding away her flushed face."

Wanda's smirk deepened as Natasha continued to talk, stirred further by the slight desperation she could hear in the redhead's voice. She had to wonder just how long she'd been wondering about this one student and just how much fun she was getting to have without her... "Go ahead, malysh," Wanda replied finally, squeezing her wife's hand gently. "I trust your instincts. You'll just have to introduce me sometime soon."

Natasha's brows shot up. "You're sure?"

"Yeah," Wanda chuckled back slightly, amused by the excitement underlying Nat's voice. When she spoke again, her lips had formed a devilish smirk. "It'll be fun. It's been a while since we had somebody to play with."

———

The funeral was awful. Of course, one never expects such an event to be the epitome of joy, but this particular funeral was like your own personally curated hell. Your entire family was gathered in one place, meaning not only were your parents’ critiques breathed down your neck the entire time, but they were also joined by those more distant. Grandparents and judgmental aunts seemed to team up on you, all obsessing over your university career and what your future plans were. Many pestered the question of your singularity, claiming that ‘a pretty young thing like you should have been swept up by a man a long time ago’. Unfortunately, the almost-compliment that could be found in their talk, was quickly diminished by the discussion of how it must be something wrong with your personality rather than your face, comments all whispered from where they thought you couldn’t hear.

There was no escape from the constant berating, your schedule full of family meals and teas, and far too lengthy conversations around the fireplace, of which you could not be excused due to your mother’s abhorrence of anyone ever thinking of her children as rude. To make matters worse, you were exhausted from jet lag and the flight, something certainly not helped by the endless hours of socializing and pressing on a smile for your family.

Still, you pushed through like the perfect daughter you always tried to be. You sat politely at the funeral, wearing an old black dress and Kate’s coat, the perfume of your best friend aiding a little to your torturous discomfort. Though your family cried, your eyes remained dry, silently staring at your feet and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. At the funeral tea, you shook hands and smiled softly at family members, answering any questions they asked with the grace your mother had forced upon your shoulders at a young age. Of course, she found her usual pride in parading you and your brother around like a pair of trophies she’d spent hours shining. The entirety of every event was exhausting.

Even at the will reading, there was no break to be given. Your late grandmother had graciously scattered her belongings to her loved ones, though seemingly biased to those who she deemed more palatable. Your brother received a chunk of her money alongside her old ring, something the family gushed over due to the prospect of his long-term girlfriend who he could now finally pop the big question to. Your rolled your eyes as they pandered over him, all blatantly dismissive of the old bible you’d been left, with your grandmother’s handwriting inside with a note of how she wished for it to be read out of at your wedding when you finally found yourself a suitable husband. You had simply rolled your eyes and shoved it to the bottom of your bag.

All that being said, it was a huge relief to you when you finally made your way back to the airport. Though you’d had to spend the journey constantly criticized by your mother about your uni work, as soon as you stepped on to the plane, relief was flooding over your shoulders. As the sky came to fill the widow, clouds passing by, you were more than grateful to be heading back to the true place you thought of as home.

Kate came to pick you up from the airport, hugging you immediately and beginning to rant about the idiots she’d encountered in the car park as she pulled your case towards the exit. The pair of you went straight to a mcdonald’s drive thru, your hunger unquenched from the bad aeroplane food you’d been offered. Fries and hamburgers were shared in the front seat of the car as you relayed back your awful week to Kate, telling her everything that you hadn’t even had the chance to text her due to your family’s never-ending nagging.

That weekend was very stressful. Due to the packed schedule you had followed back in England, you’d had next to no time to complete any of your work from that week. So, from morning until night, you cooped yourself up at your desk and ground it all out. At times, Kate had to drag you down to the hall for some food or persistently remind you to even go to bathroom. In the end however, you managed to get it all finished. By eleven o’clock Sunday night, you were finally all caught up from your missed classes and had completed all your deadlines. The light in the room were low, only your small desk lamp lighting up the space. Kate slept in her bed, hair fanning out across the pillows. You were quiet as you cleaned your space, eyeing the untouched plate of food Kate had brought up for you after you’d refused to go down for dinner. It was long cold now and you felt a little guilty throwing it out, but you were far too tired now to think about eating. Instead, you simply turned off the light and slid yourself into your bed, finally letting your mind rest and prepare itself to return to your regularly scheduled classes the next morning.

———

"Alright everyone, that's all for today's lesson. Are there any questions?"

Like always, the bustle began began your professor could even finish his sentence. Everyone was already packing away their things, drowning out the teacher's voice with their own hustle to leave. It happened almost every class, and almost every time you felt bad, one of the only people who remained still until they had officially dismissed you. But today, you found yourself following the crowd more than you usually would have. See, your professor had droned on a bit too long that afternoon, moving into the passing period you had between classes. Most times that wouldn't have been a big deal seeing as it was your last class of the day, but today was the day you were supposed to meet Professor Romanoff and thanks to your English professor's extensive elaborations, you were left with only a few minutes until you'd be late. So today you put your cares aside and as the class packed up, so did you, stuffing everything into your backpack and throwing it over your shoulder before joining the crowd exiting the lecture hall.

Your English building was on the exact opposite side of campus as your destination, so your feet held a quick pace as you flitted between the crowds of students on your way. Pathways were held up by casually conversing people, all relaxed now their days were over. They all annoyed you severely as they slowed down your journey, obviously uncaring that you still had places to be. By the time you had reached the building in which your Russian class was held, the clock was already a few minutes passed the scheduled time. You almost burst in through the doors of the hall, ever so slightly out of breath from your fast paced journey across campus. As soon as you entered the room, you spied the redheaded professor sat at her desk, head buried into her laptop. She looked up to you as you walked across the floor, nervously adjusting the backpack straps on your shoulders. "Hi," you breathed out, trying your best to seem casual despite your racing lungs. "I'm sorry I'm a little late. My last lecture ran over a little."

A pair of perfectly white teeth smiled back in your direction, Professor Romanoff looking you over. "Y/N," she said, her gentle voice falling upon your ears. Something about it in that moment made you realize you had almost missed it over your break, but the rational part of your brain soon took over and told you you were being ridiculous. "Don't worry about being late, you're barely two minutes over." She smiled again as you closed the final distance between you, moving to stand by the edge of her desk. She stood as you did, displaying today a pair of grey slacks and a soft black jumper, all adorned with delicate gold jewelry. Her smiling face looked down at you, that forgotten odd feeling of warmth spreading through your gut. "It's good to see you again. How are you? How was your trip?"

You ignored the sensation in your stomach as you smiled back at her. "I'm good. The trip was fine. A little boring but fine." There were many worse words to describe your trip than ‘boring' but you decide to settle for that, not wanting to bother your professor with the complicated details of your family and more so, simply wanting to leave the entire week in the past and not think of it again.

“That’s good,” Professor Romanoff replied with that same easy smile. “I’m glad to hear you’re alright.” Her hands lifted from the pockets they hid in, reaching out to open a drawer of her desk. You wondered for a moment what she might be looking for before she pulled out a small stack of papers, extending them out towards you. “These are some extra notes from last week’s lectures.”

You smiled, slightly surprised. “Oh, thank you.” Most of your university work could be found online for both absence and revision purposes, but it never was quite the same as attending the classes themselves. Usually you hated using just the online notes to catch up, never grasping the material as well as you’d like, but this weekend you’d had to make do. That was, of course, until Professor Romanoff handed you the extra notes. “That’s very kind of you.”

“Well,” your professor replied. “I wouldn’t want my best student falling behind, would I?”

Her words worked to form that warm sensation across your cheeks, the given title heating up your insides with flustering pride. You were grateful the woman had started to busy herself at her desk with something else as you tried to brush off her compliments as smoothly as possible, attempting to hide the flush of your skin.

“You can grab a chair from the side. Bring it over.”

You nodded, almost snapping back to reality once more with Professor Romanoff’s words. You placed your backpack down beside her desk, quickly slotting the extra notes into the large pocket before moving to grab a spare chair from the edge of the room. When you returned, your professor had seemingly found what she was searching for, a large stack of papers now sat in the centre of the desk.

“Sit,” Romanoff beckons with a smile, gesturing her hand towards the front of her desk. You pull up your chair, positioning yourself across from her own seated position. “These are tests I need marked. They’re all multiple choice and there’s a marking scheme.” The redhead lifted a single piece of paper, handing it over your way. “So you’ll just have to see if the letters match up on both papers. That sound okay?”

You nodded once more, her instructions seeming simple enough. “Yeah, sounds fine.”

“Great.” With a smile, Professor Romanoff slid the pile of unmarked papers across the desk towards you. She explained that if you needed any help, just to ask, and that she’d just be busying herself on her laptop. You nodded again, reaching into your backpack quickly for a pen before you began to work away.

It was an easy job really, simply matching the circled letters on the quiz papers to that of the marking scheme. In truth, it was almost relaxing to have something to do that didn’t require much brain power. Professor Romanoff sat across from you, typing away on her laptop. Occasionally, you’d look up to take a glance at her, catching moments of concentration or boredom on her face, but your eyes would never linger long, too scared of getting caught looking her way. She’d turned on the radio to fill a bit of the silence, music humming softly from a black stereo on the edge of the desk. All in all, the endeavour was a blessing in disguise - much simpler and easier than the effort the equivalent assignment would have took.

“You getting on alright, milaya?”

The voice brought you from the almost trance you’d put yourself in as you marked the set of papers. Your head rose from them, more than half the stack already complete as you smiled back at your professor. “Yeah, all good.”

She nodded, smiling at you with her perpetually perfect red lips. Under her gaze, you felt your eyes drop back to the papers, for some reason feeling entirely too see every time she looked your way. She went to turn back towards her laptop, your hand reaching out to continue marking, but a lingering question had been vibrating in your head. You had been too afraid to ask before, to be the one to break the soft silence of the room, but now was your opportunity. “Are these law papers?”

Professor Romanoff looked back at you, her expression soft. “Yes,” she said, simply. “I also teach a beginners law class alongside my usual Russian.”

You felt your eyebrows raise, unexpecting of her answer but also rather impressed. Now it made sense why the papers you were marking were not at all taking about Russian vocabulary but instead legal terminology.

“I studied a law major at college,” the red haired woman continued. “It was going to be my career until I decided to teach instead.”

“Huh,” you hummed, interested by the new information you were discovering about your teacher. “Why’d you decide to switch?”

Romanoff shrugged a shoulder. “Honestly, I love teaching.” A small smirk then appeared on her lips as she leaned in closer across the table. “Besides, my wife is a lawyer and just between me and you, I’m not sure I’d like her as my boss. She can be a little scary sometimes.”

There was a playfulness to her tone that you easily pick up on, the entire interaction meant as a jest, but somehow it left you with a strange feeling in your chest. You listened to your professor’s words, but your mind seemed to stick on one. Wife. In that moment, you suddenly realised you hadn’t pictured her being married - not that you had pictured her at all, your mind chided in defence. Now you quickly realised that she was indeed with another person, and not just that, but with a woman. Suddenly you had to push your mother’s berating thoughts from your head.

“So what about you?”

“Sorry?” you replied, mind crashing back to the present moment. Professor Romanoff looked back at you with an almost playful looking smirk. It only added to that strange feeling inside your chest.

“What’s your major?” the redhead elaborated.

“Oh.” You sat up straighter, trying to adjust your jumper in an effort to conceal the fact you’d gotten lost in your thoughts once more. “I’m an English major.” Romanoff raised a brow, the smirk on her face widening to almost a smile. You sighed softly, throwing your head to the side. “You can make the joke if you want, everyone does.”

An English girl studying English. You’d heard almost every variation of the joke, mostly from drunk boys at frat parties that thought they were the pinnacle of humour. Shouldn’t you already be an expert at that? Wait, they don’t teach you English in England?

You were expecting some similar turn of phrase to escape your professors lips, following in the footsteps of everyone you’d had this conversation with before. But to your surprise, she simply shook her head, frowning ever so slightly. “I think I’ll refrain,” she said, frown turning into the same wide smirk. “I hate being unoriginal.”

A laugh bubbled up in your throat, pushing out through a smile and into the air. Your professor followed, chuckling with you. After a moment, she stilled, looking back at you curiously. “So, tell me,” she said, leaning in closer to the desk. “What does bring you all the way to America to study?”

Because I can’t stand being at home with my parents. “Experience, I guess,” you said with a shrug, hiding away the truth behind a smile. “And I got a full scholarship when I applied so…” Your words died down, not quite sure how to finish your explanation.

Thankfully, your professor seemed to pick up the conversation easily. “A very smart girl, hm?” Her lips met as she hummed and it seemed you could feel the vibrations running down your spine. Your eyes fell back to your lap, trying to hide the awkward smile her praise had brought. You were unsure of what exactly you should do, contemplating if her question was rhetoric or not, and praying the former due to your inability to think of a response. Blessedly, Professor Romanoff cut through your mind’s distress with another question. “You’re in fourth year, right?”

Your eyes picked back up, meeting hers. “Yeah.”

She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared back at you intently. “And what exactly lead a fourth year English student to my beginner’s Russian class?”

You were getting a little bit of deja vu of the conversation you’d had with Kate multiple times. This time, you settled on the short answer. “I thought it sounded interesting,” you said simply, smiling as you shrugged your shoulders.

Professor Romanoff seemed amused by your answer. “Well, I’m glad you’re here.”

You felt yourself smiling back in response. So am I, your brain mused, but your consciousness refused to let anything move past your lips. Instead, Romanoff was picking up the conversation once again. “What’s your plans for after?”

Your eyebrows raised, suddenly surprised by her question. “Sorry?”

The redhead chuckled. “Once you graduate, sweetheart,” she said, voice sounding slightly amused. “What do you plan to do with the rest of your life?”

“Oh right,” you fumbled. You felt a little stupid for thinking she ever meant anything other than that. “My, uh…my mum wants me to go to law school actually…”

A red brow raised in your direction. “Oh yeah?”

You nodded, reminiscent of your previous chatter with your professor. A funny little coincidence that you two may be following a similar path. Although in that moment, you couldn’t help but be a little jealous. She had eventually fallen away from law, moving to a career she was truly passionate for. You were unsure if you’d ever get that opportunity. It had taken months just to convince your mother to let you major in English, claiming it was good for getting into law school after college. And after three years, you still hadn’t been able to convince her away from that same dream of hers, now unsure if you ever would.

“And what to do you want to do?”

“What?” Your professor’s words took you by surprise. When you looked up, it felt as if her eyes had seen straight through you, like she’d been able to hear your every thought.

“Your mother wants you to go to law school,” Professor Romanoff reiterated. “What do you want to do after you graduate?”

Your voice was unsteady in your response. “Go to law school?”

Professor Romanoff raised a brow as she angled her head. “Are you asking me?” All you could muster was a shrug, feeling suddenly very small in the large hall. You didn’t much like talking about what you wanted to do in your life, haven forgone the gesture years ago due to your mother’s constant coercion. But then your professor leaned in slightly, a small smile crossing her lips. “You can tell me the truth, sweetheart,” she said. “I’m very good at keeping secrets.”

The endearment fell on your already blushed cheeks. Most times you wouldn’t have said anything at all, hidden behind the lies your mother had constructed about your person, but something about the redhead’s smile almost drew the words directly from your mouth. “I guess if I could do anything, I’d be a writer,” you said, playing at the sleeves of your sweater.

“A writer?” Romanoff repeated, raising a pair of curious brows.

You felt yourself nodding as a small smile crept on to your lips. “Yeah. I love books and writing, and I guess it’s what I’ve wanted to do ever since I was a little girl.”

“Why don’t you do it then?”

Her words came as a shock, your system unsure of how exactly to respond. You shrank back under the redhead’s gaze, reminded of the words you’d been told so many times they were engraved into your mind. “It’ll be good for me to go to law school. My mum says I’ll get a better job.”

“Maybe…” Professor Romanoff hummed. Then her expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand as she leaned in closer, her emerald eyes trained on your face. “But do you know what my birth mother used to say about me? She used to tell me I was useless little piece of shit that wouldn’t get anywhere in life.” Your eyebrows raised slightly in shock as you heard her words, especially on the fact she’d cursed so easily and how oddly good it sounded coming from her lips. Then her expression shifted again, an almost smugness taking over that drew your attention away from your own thoughts. “Thirty years later I’m a professor at one of the most prestigious universities in America. I’m married to a very successful lawyer, and living quite frankly an amazing life with a pair of adoptive parents who love me very much.”

Professor Romanoff finished with a small smirk, seemingly unaware of how her words settled on your shoulders. The entire statement was so weighted, so much shared about her as a person in so few words. Something in you felt slightly honoured that she could be that vulnerable around you, or perhaps her story wasn’t one she kept bundled up in her chest like you did, like a weighted lock on your heart. Still, you felt a sense of solace in learning more about your professor, a sense of trust being built in up inside. Her smiling eyes met yours as she leaned in even further on the desk. “Don’t let people who don’t know the real you keep you from what you want. We only get one life, Y/N. Don’t waste it trying to be someone you’re not.”

Her words settled in your stomach with an odd sensation. Her reassurance felt like another brick added to that wall of trust, perhaps her intention to try and learn more of your story. But maybe that trust wasn’t quite strong enough yet.

You shied away, unwilling to share more of your story despite how open Romanoff had seemed, years of criticisms sitting heavy on your shoulders. “Maybe,” you said lowly, picking up your pen once again. But you knew you’d never truly be able to follow through with what she was proposing you should, knew your future fate was already sealed by the woman who’d brought you into this world. She’d have a perfect daughter with her perfect career and wouldn’t settle for less, no matter how it made you feel. For now, all Professor Romanoff’s words could provide was a little fuel to that already dying fire of a dream inside your heart.

The pair of you quickly fell back into the steady silence of your work after your conversation, you pen dotting over papers as your professor turned back to her laptop. The radio played quietly in the background as you tried to push whatever words lingered in your head, both from your mother and the redhead in front of you, too many feeling provoked from the subject to allow you to focus properly. Dispelling them from your mind, you trained your eyes on the marking schemes in front of you, though having some of the answers memorised by now, and continued to work away at the stack of tests on the desk.

Time passed quickly once more, your speed increasing as the papers became more familiar in your hands, easily noticing the same mistakes made over and over. Occasionally you heard Romanoff begin to hum along to a song on the radio, focusing momentarily on her soft voice before refocusing on your work. In your mind, you became determined to finish them as quickly as you could, absentmindedly hoping to impress the woman they were for.

You were almost finished your task, down to the very last paper when a shrill sound cut through the soft atmosphere of the room. Both you and your professor’s heads shot up from your work, eyes turning to your backpack from where the loud ringtone emanated. Shit, you thought, obviously accidentally turning on the ringer that you always kept silenced.

“I’m sorry,” you said, glancing over at your professor in slight fear of her reprimand. But in return, you were only met with a soft smile.

“Don’t worry, milaya,” Romanoff replied gently. “This isn’t class time. You can answer your phone.”

Relieved by her answer, you let out a soft sigh. Reaching over, you began to dig through your bag to find your mobile, the nonsensical tune still ringing out. With no suprise, when you found it, Kate’s name and profile picture covered your screen. Quietly, you apologised again before accepting the call, slightly turning away in your chair as you held your phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N!” Kate’s voice replied back from the other end of the device. She sounded slightly off but you couldn’t quite tell why.

“Are you okay? What’s up?”

A small sigh sounded in your ear. “Okay, please don’t get mad at me again but-“

You were replying with a sigh of your own before Kate could even finish her sentence. “You forgot your key again, didn’t you?”

“I’m so sorry,” the girl on the end of the other phone pleaded.

You sighed again, shaking your head. “Kate, how many times-“

“I know! I know,” she cut off. “I’m the worst person ever. But I slept in this morning and just forgot to put it in my bag. I’m sorry.”

Your sigh turned less frustrated. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” At your core you weren’t a confrontational person. You could never stay mad at anyone for long, especially Kate.

“Well, I came back to the room and you’re not here,” your best friend continued through the phone. “I thought you were finished english at three?”

“I am,” you replied. “But I’m helping out Professor Romanoff, remember? I’m in her class right now.”

You could hear Kate’s realisation through the call. “Shit. I am so sorry.” There was a pause. You could picture Kate dancing on the heels of her feet, the same way she did every time she needed to ask you a favour. “Uhm, could I possibly swing by and pick up your key then? Please Y/N, I really need to finish my computing assignment. It’s due at five.”

If there was anyone who would leave their work until one hour before the deadline, it was Kate. Another soft sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”

Kate’s smile could practically be heard through the phone. “Thank you! What room are you in?”

“Language building, room ML4.”

“Okay,” Kate replied. “I’ll be right there. You’re the best, I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile a little as you responded. “Love you too.”

With that, Kate hung up the call. You pulled your phone away from your ear, switching it off and throwing it in your pocket as you turned back in your chair. “I’m so sorry,” you began, facing back to your professor. “It’s my roommate, Kate. She’s locked herself out again.”

Romanoff raised a curious glance. “Again?”

“Bad habit.” You smiled back sheepishly, shrugging your shoulder. “She’s just going to stop by and pick up my key, if that’s alright?”

The redhead smiled back at you. “Of course. That’s perfectly fine.” A small sigh of relief escaped your lips, glad that the encounter wouldn’t be a problem. “But I think we’re actually almost done here,” Romanoff continued. “How are you getting on with those papers.”

“Oh, yeah,” you replied, pulling yourself back towards the desk and the stack of papers sat atop of it. “I’m actually just on the last one.”

“Well if you just finish that up, you can run along with your friend when she gets here.”

“You’re sure?” you replied, looking up. You didn’t want Kate’s endeavour to disrupt any of the help your professor needed. But the redhead simply nodded in response.

“I’m sure, Y/N.”

“Okay then,” you responded, nodding your head softly. A small smile was passed between the two of you before you were grabbing your pen once more, reaching out to finish marking the final test in the stack. Your hand moved quickly as you corrected any of the mistakes, flicking through the sheets of paper at an impressive rate. It was just as you were marking the last question that the noise of the hall doors opening drew your attention.

Clamouring in, Kate appeared inside the hall, her backpack momentarily getting caught on the handle before she was able to free herself. She stood sheepishly inside the room, looking across the way and spying you and your professor sat at the desk. “Uhm, hello,” the girl announced. You could tell she was trying to play it cool but she had that same almost awkward look she got whenever a girl she liked try to talk to her. “I’m, uh, Kate Bishop. Y/N’s roommate.” Her finger pointed to you, as if trying to prove she hadn’t barged in for no apparent reason.

Professor Romanoff had stood from her desk as Kate had entered, her hands finding a place resting inside her pockets. Now, she smiled across at her. “Yeah, she mentioned.”

Kate gave that awkward little laugh of hers and you had to refrain from not giggling at her yourself. “Sorry to just barge in on you guys. Are you still…” Her hands gestured towards you and the desk, trying to gage where you were with the work.

But Romanoff simply shook her head in response with a short smile. “No worries, Miss Bishop. We were just finishing up.”

Kate’s eyebrows raised. “Great,” she replied, sticking one of her thumbs up.

You had to stifle your laughs at her awkwardness. Was this how she interacted with all of her professors, or just the ones she didn’t know? As you hid your smile, you tidied up the stack of papers on the desk, piling them up neatly before rising to your feet. “Okay, Miss Romanoff,” you said, slightly pushing them in her direction. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I can do for you?”

The woman turned back to you with her gentle smile, her voice soft. “That’ll be all for today, Y/N.”

“Okay,” you replied, adjusting your jumper as you reached down for your backpack, throwing it over one shoulder. “Well, thank you again for this.”

Romanoff smiled. “No, thank you. I’d be drowning in work without your helpful hands.” A smirk seemed to form on her lips as she sent an emerald wink your way.

The action left you suddenly stuttering for the right words, embarrassingly affected by such a simple action. “Right,” you finally managed, voice jumbled. “I’ll uh- see you on Wednesday?”

Thankfully Professor Romanoff didn’t seem too bothered by your flustering state, if anything you might have said she even looked amused. “I’ll see you in class, Y/N,” she said, smiling down at you.

You returned the gesture as you turned away, walking to close the distance between where you and Kate stood. As you met the raven-haired girl’s side, a voice called out to the both of you. “Have a nice night, ladies.”

You turned briefly to Romanoff, smiling as you and Kate hummed a thanks in unison. As you passed through the doors to the hall and exited into the corridor, you felt your shoulders loosen ever so slightly, that perfect emerald stare still lingering in your mind. You couldn’t quite understand why you left that class always feeling so worked up.

This time, however, there was little space for you to think about it, as merely a few steps down the hallway, Kate was grabbing hold of your upper arm. “Holy shit, that’s your Russian professor?”

You turned quickly to your best friend, both startled and shocked by her sudden comment. “What? Yeah?”

Kate breathed out a laugh. “Y/N, you never told me she was hot as shit.”

“What?” you stuttered, taken about by Kate’s choice of words. “She’s not- I mean -I-I never noticed.”

The girls hand shook your arm slightly as the pair of you continued to walk. “Never noticed? Y/N, you must be blind because that was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever seen.”

The words come as a bit of shock, not expecting Kate to think so highly of the woman you’d been spending the last weeks of lessons with. The raven-haired girl began to mumble on about how she should have taken Russian and how it was unfair how she always got the old, ugly professors. But in all honeslty you weren’t paying her much mind, instead focusing on the words that had spilled from Kate’s mouth previously. Sure, Professor Romanoff was a nice-looking woman, you’d noticed that the first time she’d walked into the room, but that didn’t mean you should be attracted to her. That was wrong, she was your teacher, she was married for god’s sake. You shouldn’t be thinking about her in that way. You weren’t thinking about her in that way. Sure, she made you blush every time she spoke to you, and her stare made a strange warmth pool in your stomach, but that didn’t mean you found her attractive. Right?

———

Term continued on with its usual snowballing effect. The next couple of weeks began to fill up with more and more work as you progressed further into the year. You and Kate spent many of your time outside of lessons bundled up in the library, spending hours revising for your upcoming midterms. The pair of you were also beginning to write your final dissertations, the main project that would lead to your graduation at the end of the year. You'd had your topic picked for months and had already started your research over the Summer, which left you room to help Kate find something she could write about, having struggled finding a topic she didn't find extremely boring.

Your usual meal time chatter turned away from mindless gossip and instead to lesson content, both of you complaining about how many assignments you had due. The carefree start of term was officially gone and the usual endless list of deadlines had crept back up on you just like it always did. Luckily for you, you'd managed to maintain the rigidness towards studying you'd possessed since doing your exams in secondary school. You could maintain focus for hours, staring at your laptop or notes until everything was photocopied into your mind. Sure, it sometimes meant you'd miss a meal or a few hours of sleep, but it was all worth it for the perfect grade you were determined to achieve in the end.

Your sessions with Professor Romanoff continued on over the next couple of weeks too, still just an hour after your final class on a Monday. You'd offered her more help if she'd needed it but the redhead had politely refused, claiming she didn't want you wasting your time when you had exams to study for. In fact, she told you that she'd only require your help for a few more weeks, just up until the midterm, then you were free to go with that easy 'A' tucked into your pocket. Surprisingly, when you heard the news, you found yourself feeling slightly saddened. Over the time you'd spent with Professor Romanoff, you'd rather enjoyed yourself. It wasn't that the work was particularly exhilarating or you two ever did much other than look at papers, but the small moments you'd been able to find in between had been rather pleasant. Whether it was the soft lull of the radio music that you both would hum along to, or the small conversations she'd have with you about your home or your studies, the time you spent with the redhead somehow always left you with a warmth in the pit of your stomach.

One particular rainy Monday afternoon, the pair of you were comfortably sat at her desk in your usual positions, your chair across the way from hers. As she often did, Romanoff typed away on her laptop, while you sat stapling together test papers for her advanced Russian class, having previously just photocopied the stack. The paper was still warm against your skin as you organised them into the correct order, the feeling almost soothing you into a trance-like state. You hadn't even noticed it at all until it was suddenly shattered by a soft sound echoing through the room.

Your head picked up, readjusting itself to the real world before turning to the right where the sound emanated from. The sight that befell upon you caused your brows to raise ever so slightly in surprise. As the door to the lecture hall swung closed, a tall, unfamiliar, but smartly-dressed woman entered through them. Her heels clicked confidently across the floor, eyes trained on your professor who sat at the desk. You watched as the redhead stood when the woman reached her, smiling softly. "Detka, hi." Romanoff placed a small kiss on the woman's cheek as they hugged briefly.

"I tried to call but it went straight to voicemail," the other woman replied. She stood a few inches taller than Professor Romanoff, her hair a lighter shade of red straightened almost perfectly down her back. She wore a deep copper suit with a crisp white shirt, a designer handbag thrown over one shoulder. In all honesty, you couldn't tell if she'd came straight from work or a catwalk. When her body turned to stand side by side with your professor, you noticed her eyes shimmered down at you with a soft olive green. "I'm sorry. I didn't realise you would still have company."

At that, you noticed Professor Romanoff turn towards you, as if she had just remembered you were there. She smiled as she gestured to the taller woman. "Y/N, this is my wife, Wanda."

Right, wife. The idea she'd slipped a few weeks ago had almost left your mind entirely. Now that said woman was standing directly in front of you, looking down with an expression you couldn't quite read. "So you're the star pupil my wife has been telling me about, hm?"

Her voice was playful when she spoke, but at the same time low and almost sultry. Everything about it, including her words, left you stuttering over what to say. Had Professor Romanoff really been speaking about you to her wife?

"This is she," the redhead replied, covering for your inability to form a full sentence. She looked back at you with that same easy-going smile that seemed to make you shift in your seat.

Wanda passed you a similar expression as she inclined her head towards you, smirking just slightly. "Well then, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Thankfully, in that moment, your ability to speak seemed to return. "It's nice to meet you too, miss."

A small chuckle escaped the older woman's lips as you spoke. She glanced at Natasha, the pair sharing a look you couldn't interpret, before her sparkling eyes were back on you. "Oh please, honey. You can just call me Wanda." Just then you realised it wasn't only your professor's use of nicknames that seemed to send a shiver down your spine, Wanda's words setting your nerves on edge as you felt the heat flush to your cheeks. You looked down to your lap in an attempt to hide it, not wanting either woman to see your embarrassed state. From the corner of your eye, however, you saw Wanda wasn't going to let you hide that easily. She sat herself on the edge of the desk, leaning in closer to you and the stack of papers close by. "Working hard, are we?"

You looked back up to meet her eye, the action seemingly stripping away your speech once more. Thankfully, your professor stood up to answer for you. "Just getting some papers organised for my lesson tomorrow," she said, sitting herself down at her chair once more. Her eyes met her wife's. "Sorry, I didn't realise we'd run so late." Just then, you assumed why Wanda had shown up so unnanounced. Professor Romanoff had mentioned in passing that her wife would sometimes meet her after work, meaning that your sessions couldn't run any later even if she did need the extra help you offered.

"No, need to apologise," Wanda replied with an easy smile. "I don't mind sticking around while you guys finish up. Especially when your little assistant is so cute." Her eyes turned to you, a smirk playing on her lips. The entire action seemed to freeze you in place, entirely unsure of what to say or do.

"Cat gets her tongue sometimes."

Your eyes flicked to your professor as she spoke, a very similar smirk appearing on her face to match her wife sitting next to her. The taller redhead hummed lowly at her comment, her gaze tracing over you. Sat in that chair, you felt entirely too seen. Your eyes darted around, unsure of where exactly to look while the pair of older women watched you. If there was something you were supposed to say, you mind could not conjure it. In that moment all you could do was sit awkwardly as two pairs of green eyes traced your every movement.

But then, a familiar tune rang out to your rescue. When before you'd cursed your forgetfulness to turn off your ringer, now you silently thanked yourself. Your eyes rushed to your backpack, then quickly back to your professor and her wife. "I'm sorry," you stuttered out. "Could I?"

"Go on, milaya."

You tried your best to ignore your professor's comment as you reached into your backpack for your phone, quickly holding it up to your ear. To no surprise, it was a familiar voice singing a familiar tune. Still, you found the situation grateful for its diversion from the stalemate conversation you'd been stuck in beforehand. As you hung up the call a minute later, you turned back to the desk with a sheepish smile. "It's Kate, she's locked herself out again."

Professor Romanoff raised a perfect brow. "That really is a bad habit of hers, hm?"

You fought back a small chuckle at her words, surprised she even remembered you'd said that. "Yeah," you smiled back, then dropped it into a small frown. "I am so sorry-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, the redhead was holding up her hand to stop you. "Don't worry about it, milaya. You can run along. I'll catch you in class on Wednesday."

Your eyebrows raised, not wanting to be an inconvenience to her yet again. "You're sure? I can easily-"

"I said it's fine, Y/N," Romanoff reiterated, her voice coming out more stern. It wasn't quite angry, just firm, but it was enough to shut your mouth right up. You looked back, eyes wide, afraid that you'd annoyed her by leaving early twice due to your roommates negligence. But at your response, the redhead simply smiled down softly at you angling her head towards the door. "Go on. I can handle the rest."

You found your head nodding almost on its own accord, directed by not only your professor's watchful eye but now that of her wife's too. Your words came out little and few, a mumbled thank you and another apology spilling from your lips as you packed up your bag and threw it over your shoulders. One last reassurance and smile sent you walking out the door, headed back to your dorm where Kate would be waiting for you. As you went, you were hyper aware of the two sets of eyes trained on your back, picturing the two redheaded woman still sitting at the desk watching you walk away. What you weren't exactly aware of was how their gaze dropped even lower, both staring at the short black skirt you'd decided to wear that day, watching how the material grazed lightly against the back of your tight-covered thighs. When you exited out the door, you couldn't see the way the taller redhead turned back to her wife, looking down at her from where she still sat on the desk, a wide smirk appearing on her face as she bit into a perfectly painted lip. You couldn't see the way the pair looked at each other, leaning closer in, nor hear the words Wanda uttered back to her wife before their lips met in a kiss.

"You're right, she is cute. Let's keep her."

#inescapable love au #professor natasha romanoff #lawyer wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader #wanda x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #platonic kate bishop x reader

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kentopedia · 3 months

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I loooveee the way u write nanami 🥺🥺 was wondering if u could do a mini fic on nanami x reader but when they were in high school :O I feel reader would constantly flirt with him but he stays unbothered until she stops 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 thank uuuu

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ HIGH SCHOOL SWEETHEARTS — nanami kento

omg thank u so so much, you're very sweet <3 i think i was taking requests when you asked this, so im so so so sorry i took forever to answer :( this isn't exactly what you said but i hope it's close to what you had in mind <3

contents: sfw, high school nanami & reader, mutual pining, silly teenage emotions, fluff, it's not even really romantic but they're best friends that won't admit they have a crush on each other, reader is shorter than him, gn!reader — 1.2k

“you can’t stay mad at me forever, kento.”

your best friend — or so you thought — stayed silent as you walked through the abandoned warehouse, searching for the curses that needed exorcising. so far, they’d evaded you, just as kento had all of your questions.

he glanced over at you, mouth drawn into its usual line. “i can if i want.”

“oh really?” you huffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you continued forward, following him through the building. “are you fifteen or five? you’re supposed to be the mature one!”

kento rolled his eyes, but didn’t dignify that with a verbal response, letting his blade dangle loosely at his side. an odd sound echoed through the hallways, but it wasn’t quite menacing enough to be a curse.

you groaned. “don’t you know everyone will just keep pairing us up on missions until we work this out?” if kento was going to continue to be a pain, you wouldn’t allow him the silence he wanted so desperately. he’d been ignoring you for over a week. “haibara’s lucky. he gets to go with the second years.”

nanami glanced over his shoulder, raising his eyebrow, before looking ahead once more. “you mean he’s lucky he gets to go with gojo.”

though you weren’t sure if it was supposed to be an insult to you or not, you laughed. “maybe.”

“yeah,” kento scoffed. “i thought so.”

the tone was flatter than usual, even for someone like kento, and you raised your eyebrows, letting the words settle between you.

“you’re being so sour. you know, you never even told me what i did wrong. you’re so mad at me, kento, and i don’t even really know why.”

kento watched his feet take one step, then another, the opposite ones moving ahead. he’d grown a lot over the summer — a fact you’d somehow only realized. since when had he been that much taller than you?

“i’m not mad,” he finally settled on. a weak argument as to why he’d been ignoring you for the duration of your mission, and the week before.

you frowned, chewing the inside of your mouth. although kento had a kind heart, you knew how nasty he could be to people he didn’t like. you didn’t want to be one of those on the list. “kento… i really am sorry. if i’ve done something wrong.”

the tension drained from his shoulders. he sighed. “you haven’t.”

despite wanting to push the issue further, you let it die, deciding to listen to the silence in case of any curses. though, it had been nearly half an hour, and you hadn’t found any yet. you were beginning to think that maybe your teacher had led you astray.

“can i ask you something?” kento, after ten minutes, finally interrupted the quiet again. and though that sort of phrase was never a good sign, you would’ve taken anything to get him talking to you again.

“of course, kento.”

he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, seeming shy, almost. had it not been so dark, you would have seen the slight tint of pink on his cheeks, that you only assumed was there to begin with.

“what is it about gojo that you like so much?”

you blinked. “what do you mean?”

“you’re… interested in him, aren’t you? like that?” kento shifted awkwardly, holding his body as if it wasn’t quite his own. “i mean, i just assumed…”

all over, you great hot, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, a wave of dread heaping onto your stomach. “you think i have a crush on gojo?”

“don’t you?”

you thought about it for a moment, staring at the ceiling. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“maybe?” kento pinched his eyebrows together. “what the hell kind of answer is that? you either do or you don’t.”

“i think he’s...” you stumbled over the words, not really sure when you’d started talking to nanami kento about these sorts of things. the words tasted sour in your mouth. “well, i suppose he’s attractive, isn’t he? he’s certainly charming. he makes me laugh.”

“you’re always flirting with him," kento said skeptically.

you shrugged. "i'm just teasing. if you consider that flirting, then i guess i am."

“hm. you sound like you think you’re supposed to be interested in him, just because he’s gojo.”

that raised a small laugh out of you. “maybe you’re right. i think i might just be interested in people i know won’t ever like me back.” kento’s eyes flashed, and before he could say anything, lips parted, you continued. “but what do i know about anything, anyway? teenagers are supposed to be dumb like that, aren’t they?”

kento frowned, brown eyes softer than you’d seen in awhile. “i don’t think you’re dumb.”

“thanks.” for some reason, that made you bashful, darting your eyes away as you smiled at the ground. “have you ever had a crush on anyone, kento?”

he gave you a tiny little smile, poking you in the temple, before repeating your words from earlier. “i don’t know. maybe.”

“you’re so stupid.”

kento laughed, then, a light noise that was more familiar to you than it was to a lot of others. “you know, if it makes you feel better, i think gojo likes you. really, i do. he thinks you’re pretty. he likes when you laugh at his jokes. geto told us. he talks about you to him all the time.”

and though you’d expected the words to send a wave of glee over you, the sort of silly emotion that came with a teenage crush, you didn’t feel excited as you should've. perhaps because satoru had never been the one you wanted.

“gojo just likes to be admired. besides, everyone likes when people laugh at their jokes. that's not special.” you kicked at the floor. “anyway, geto’s probably just telling you all that so you’ll tell me and i’ll make a fool of myself in front of them. that would really make them laugh.”

kento frowned, contemplative. “i don’t think he would do that.”

he wouldn’t. it just seemed the only good way to diverge the conversation.

you threw your hands up, expelling a loud sigh. “well… whatever. honestly, it doesn't matter. i don’t think i even want a boyfriend.”

kento gawked at you for a moment, lips slightly parted, before he shook his head, another snort of a laugh leaving him. “you’re so confusing.”

“you should be relieved. wouldn’t you be miserable if i started dating gojo?” you were only teasing him, bumping his shoulder with your own, a playful grin on your face.

but kento’s voice was gentle when he returned his answer, and the relief was evident on his face. “i would.”

whether you knew it then, or not, that little confession had changed the course of your life. you brushed it off easily, gripping your cursed tool tightly as you turned the corner again.

“hey kento?”

“what? the curses are going to sneak up on us if—”

“you’re my best friend, by the way. even if i was dating gojo, you’d still be my best friend. you’ll always be my best friend.” you stopped him, serious now. “no matter what happens.”

kento smiled softly, barely there at all. he squeezed your hand in return. “i hope so.”

#kento nanami x reader #jjk x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #kento nanami x you #nanami x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

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writingouthere · 4 months

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neighbor!sukuna x singlemom!reader. Sukuna picks up your daughter from school, he makes quite the impression and we learn more about his background.

cw: None really here except I guess this is low key becoming a slow burn, idk.

You were stuck at work and didn't have anyone else who could go get your daughter so you had asked Sukuna. The tattoo shop was usually slow in the evening this far into winter anyway, and he couldn't imagine saying no to you even if he'd been fully booked.

It felt strange to be going outside when it was still light out but Sukuna took in the sights as other people walked around, other parents clearly in the process of picking up their children from school.

Not that Bug was his kid, at least not as far you knew. Yet.

Sukuna didn't do things halfway, just wasn't in his nature. He knew he was moving fast, he had put up with his little brother Yuji's nervous protests at dinner the week before when he had explained his new living situation, but he wasn't going to slow things down when they were going so well.

For a long time, it had just been him and Yuji. There had been other relatives, like Yuji's grandfather and his freak of a mother, but the two had mostly bounced around foster homes and made due until Sukuna was old enough to take care of them both. Yuji was graduating college in the spring and Sukuna had been alone since he left for the dorms and now he had an apartment with some friends from school. Sukuna was proud of his brother, he was one of the only people he really gave a fuck about. Their lives had been hard and that had made Sukuna even harder. Yuji had never been like that, he had come through even kinder than the average person and Sukuna could admire the strength that showed in it's own way.

The point was, Sukuna had paid his dues. He had done right by his brother even when the world had done them so wrong and now he was ready for his reward. You and the little girl he was about to go get.

The daycare was inside of a little beige building, decorated with those tacky outlines of children playing and some fucking mural with birds that always seemed to cover the walls of places like this. Parents, mostly moms, walked out with their children in tow, asking about their days and zipping up coats. Sukuna noticed the double takes as they took him in, the way the adults seemed to pull their little ones closer. That was fine by him, he didn't want any of these fucking rugrats near him except his own.

"Ryomen Sukuna, mom should have added me to the pick-up list," he told your daughter's teacher, showing her his ID. She didn't react to his tattoos or general aura with anything but a smile and he supposed that childcare workers must be aware more than most that they really do let anyone be a parent.

"Of course, I'll go get her while you sign here," she said handing over a clipboard with the names of all the kids in the center along with blue pen with a fuzzy pompom attached to it. While he was signing his name he heard a familiar squeal and looked to see your daughter running towards him as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"Sukuna!"

She tripped on some particularly tricky air and Sukuna moved forward to pick her up before she could face plant on the hard tile.

"Careful there bug, told mom I'd bring you home in one piece."

She ignored him and started babbling nonsense about her day that Sukuna could only really catch half of, but he nodded and hmmed as he finished signing her out and with a quick nod to the amused staff member, he headed out.

He shifted her on his hip so he could finish zipping up her coat. What was it with kids and their refusal to just zip up their damn coats? He remembered Yuji had been the same.

Bug continued to regale him with tales of her day until she eventually squirmed on his hip, the universal signal for "put me down until I get tired and whine for you to pick me up again" and Sukuna put her down on the sidewalk but took her backpack which he slung across his shoulder and then grabbed her hand with his. He could see people take second looks at the two of them and he supposed they cut quite the picture. The tall scary guy with tattoos carrying a pink princess backpack and the little girl pulling him down the sidewalk.

"We in a rush or something?"

Your daughter laughed and said something about being hungry for dinner with mommy which he could get behind. You both had only been living with him for a week but you already had a bit of a routine. He made breakfast in the morning while you got the kid ready but you always made dinner that was ready when he got home. It was nice, domestic. It felt like what he imagined life was like for people who had normal families when he had been a young kid. Holding a crying, hungry baby Yuji on his lap while they ate whatever he could scrounge up in whatever shithole they were in that week.

He remembered when Yuji had been the same age as your daughter and the idea of her ever living in the places they had, or going through the things they had made him pull her a little closer.

He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he was a good man or that he wanted you, the both of you, for some pure love nonsense but he knew he wanted you all the same. He had done terrible things and he would do them all over again if it led to this moment where he watched as your daughter cooed over the neighbor's dog. Said neighbor looking at him in confusion and fear as he told your daughter they needed to leave the fleabag alone and go home.

Later, when Sukuna was working on dinner and your daughter was sitting on the counter, "helping", he heard the sound of a key in the lock.

"I'm home," you called out and Sukuna called out that they were in the kitchen.

"Hey, thank you so much for getting her. I just wasn't going to make it in time," you said, picking up your daughter.

"No worries, we weren't busy at the shop today anyway." You hummed and smiled at him.

"Still."

"You can go ahead and change," he told you and you looked ready to protest when he went to grab your daughter from you but then Bug went willingly and he saw how you melted at the two of them. Good.

"Okay, but when I get back I'm taking over dinner."

Sukuna agreed and he watched as you walked away, admiring the way your clothes hugged your frame. He was glad the only witness to his hunger was a toddler who was more interested in poking his cheek than observing social cues.

The rest of the evening passed peacefully and Sukuna felt what he could only describe as content. When your daughter started to nod off on your shoulder, you got up from the couch to take her to bed, telling Sukuna he should stay and that you got it. With your daughter on one hip, you used your free hand to press against his shoulder and lean down to where he was still on the couch. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips pressing gently against his cheek and then with a quick goodnight, the two of you were in your room, the door closing with a quick 'click'.

The gesture had been so innocent and Sukuna would have mocked anyone he knew who got so flustered over a gesture as meaningless as a kiss on the cheek.

But how could any gesture be meaningless when it came from you?

#jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x singlemomreader

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artemismoorea03 · 8 months

Text

DPxDC Prompt: Damian's Friend

I feel like this has been done before so if it has please let me know!

-----

Damian is still learning to make friends. Sure, he has Superboy but according to his brothers and teachers he needed more friends. But why should he bother with new friends when one was already such a pain to keep up with? Social cues were hard to understand, jokes didn't make sense, and most civilians were far too squishy. He could end up hurting them accidentally and that would endanger his secret identity.

Though he quickly learned that meeting people as Robin made it considerably easier. That's how he ended up meeting Phantom, a 15-Year-Old boy who seemed rather lost. His only explanation for why he was in Gotham had been, "Listen, my mentor told me to come here and to stick with the birds and the bats. I don't know what that is or why I'm here but considering I don't seem to be able to go home yet I can only assume that I haven't found what I was looking for yet."

Phantom was strange, even for a meta. He didn't know what Gotham was, who Superman or Batman were, he had never heard of the Justice League, or even heard of 'metas' until Robin explained it to him. The kid seemed honest and he was staying out of the way of patrols and stuff which was more than most meta's did.

The only time he interfered with any fight was when Robin was cornered in a fight. In theory Robin would have been able to handle it but in the moment he had - admittedly - been a little in over his head. Phantom showed up and not only got Robin to safety but had managed to take down all of the enemies without killing anybody.

From that moment on Robin considered Phantom a friend and had given Phantom the number to one of the burner phones he kept on him during patrols. Phantom never called but would answer any time Robin checked in.

Which came in handy one day when the entirety of the team got trapped when a building came down, including one very frightened Superboy. The team was arguing loudly among themselves as they tried to figure out how to get out while Batman sat to one side with a headwound.

None of them were in good shape.

They were running out of air.

And the team were fighting and wasting even more air.

"We need more help." Nightwing said, "But I don't think Superman could hear us from here and nobody else in the city will be able to reach us before we run out of air."

"I could call my friend." Robin suggested, leaning against the wall.

"Uh..." Everybody looked at Superboy then each other.

"Your what?" Red Hood questioned.

"Is he saying friends?" Whispered Signal.

"Did you hit your head?" Spoiler asked, walking over as Robin stepped away from her.

"No, this is delirium. The air is too thin in here for him." Red Robin said.

"Robin, all your friends are right here." Superboy said.

Robin scoffed. "I have other friends. You guys told me I needed more friends, so I made friends. It was a task which I completed." He said, pulling out his phone as he silently muttered a 'please work' under his breath.

"Aw! I'm so proud of you!" Nightwing doted as Robin rolled his eyes and hit the call button.

"Yo, Robin, you see the collapse?" Phantom's voice said, sounding weirdly echoed on the line, not that it was unusual for Phantom's voice to do such a thing on calls.

"Bigger problems. I was inside the building during the collapse. Batman is down. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, Orphan, Signal, Spoiler, and Superboy are all in here with me. We need exfil."

"Oh shit, on my way. I can get all of you out at once but you guys will have to forget what personal space is for a minute." Phantom said as Robin ignored the looks from the others.

"Whatever it takes, but hurry we're running out of air."

"What floor are you on?"

"Basement."

"Got it, I'll be there in just a second." The call turned to static for a moment before Phantom phased through the ceiling and looked at them. "Wow, a party." Phantom said, ending the call and slipping the phone into a bag on his back.

"No time, get us out of here." Robin pushed.

Phantom nodded, "You and you put Batman between you." He ordered Nightwing and Red Hood who after a moment did as they were told, supporting Batman between them. "Now use your free hands and hug me. The rest of you guys hug them and no matter what do not let go of each other or me. If you do you'll die."

"Great, trust the weird glowing kid not to drop us and kill us or die here. This will only go well." Red Hood growled but didn't question it further as they all held onto Phantom.

Robin could feel the ground vanish from under them as they flew upwards through the building and then out into open air. Phantom then took then a safe distance from the building near where the police were and made sure they were all on the ground before he stopped flying.

"There you go. Thanks for riding Phantom-Air." Phantom said, sounding exhausted as he leaned against Robin who frowned up at the taller teen.

"You okay?"

"All good. Been a minute. You guys get checked out. See you around Robin." Phantom said, then flew away as Superboy grabbed Robin's arm.

"Are we going to talk about the fact that your new friend doesn't have a heartbeat?" He said anxiously.

"He... doesn't?" Robin tilted his head.

"No!" Superboy squeaked, "Where did you even meet that kid?!"

"He saved me from being shot. It's no big deal."

"Does B know he exists?" Red Robin asked.

"No."

"Then it's a big deal." The others sighed.

Nightwing shrugged. "Next time introduce us to him properly though, when we're not suffocating in a hole."

"I suppose I will consider it."

Orphan was quiet for a moment, "New brother?"

"NO!" They all said together as she chuckled.

#dp x dc prompt #this is pretty terrible #but it's been a long day #so it's here #my prompts

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m0nsterqzzz · 14 days

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word count: 3k

- Liar Liar -

Wanda Maximoff x reader

summary - in which, you stumble upon the most beautiful woman you've ever seen while in search of a job you can put your piano skills to use at. The only thing? She's a teacher who thinks you're in search of lessons. All's far in love and music right?

a/n - wanda + music = me fucking dying. lol. haven't updated in a while that's my bad. i love you guuuuyyyyyysss.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

You hadn’t meant to lie.

You’d went into the slightly shady neighborhood in search of a job, preferably one that let you play piano- your passion- and still had a decent amount of pay so you would be able to afford that apartment you got recently.

It’s a small town though, and no one really has any need for music as they own record players and other forms of listening devices. No one cares about classical music anymore.

Maybe you should have listened when your father told you music would never be a good career.

So you gave up hope, walking downtown to the store to get a simple and cheap frozen dinner that you could watch while sulking in front of the tv. Being an adult is hard, and you often find yourself wondering what you would do if you had just been given one chance to go back in time and not rush growing up.

You heard the familiar and peaceful sound of piano, and just like anytime you hear it, you freeze in the middle of the sidewalk to simply listen. There’s a small store next to all the tall and beautiful ones, one that probably gets lost a lot in the sight of all the other, more important buildings. A young woman is sitting inside near the front, visible through the big glass window that you silently watch her through. Her skilled fingers dance across the keyboard, creating an aura in the world that has you stuck in a magical trance.

The song slowly goes quieter, and you watch her take a deep sigh before turning her head to look out the window- as if knowing you were there. You panic, blushing in embarrassment before you pretend to read the signs taped to the door.

A bright smile graces your face as you actually begin to read them. A few of them just talk about upcoming concerts in town square, but one big one smack dab in the middle catches your eye;

Hiring!

Tutors, managers, cleaners

$16.45 a hour

It’s not a lot of money, but it’s enough and you’d get to do what you love while seemingly getting to hang out with a pretty girl. It’s a win, win, win. For you.

“Sorry. That sign is old. My friend was supposed to take it down.” Someone quietly speaks beside you, and you almost jump in fear when you see that the woman you had previously been looking at through the window is now standing right next to you, staring blankly before she tears the sign off the door. She’s even more pretty in person, from her long auburn hair to her piercing greens eyes that most people would fear as she stares at you silently though all you feel is nervous and giddy.

“Right…well….do you still have any openings?” You ask, placing your hands in your pockets as you rock back and forth on your heels. She watches with curious eyes, crossing her arms over her chest.

She answers quietly, a stark contrast to your happy mood, though she doesn't exactly seem upset. More like calm. “Yes. Lessons are 10 dollars for an hour and a half.”

You frown in confusion. Does she think you’re looking for a teacher? You go to tell her you’re looking to be a teacher, but your eyes fall on the little picture on the door that has a photo of her next to a few others of other people. Under her’s is the title; “owner and teacher”

“Would you be my teacher?” The words fall out of your mouth before you can stop them, so you purse your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else.

The girl’s lips turn upwards in the beginning of a smile. “Yes. I would.”

You practically grin, and it’s like you don’t even remember the several years of college you went through to get a career in music as you say, “Then I’d like to take lessons from you. I like piano. I want to learn how to play.”

She does smile now, nodding as she opens the door which makes the bell above it ring. “That’s great. Follow me and we’ll get you signed up.” You do follow her inside, taking in the beauty of the hidden shop. There are pianos and other instruments everywhere, ones that look worn out yet still pretty. Open songbook’s litter every open space and she gets to the front desk before digging through a pile of them for the forms you need to sign.

After signing way to many forms and paying a small fee, you shake her hand with the one that isn’t cramping.

“Thank you for choosing Scarlett's Melodies. I’m Wanda Maximoff. I own the shop and tutor most of the students.” You smile, squeezing her hand before you awkwardly place your hand in your pocket and introduce yourself.

Wanda. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

You obviously don’t say that though. Anxiety exists yall.

Instead you leave with a new found pep in your step.

That is until you remember that you just spent a ton of money and don’t even have a job. Wow. What the fuck is Wanda Maximoff doing to you?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you have to get a job, so you get one at the nice restaurant in town that your friend works at. You spend most of your day serving customers, taking orders, and cleaning, and the only reason you continue to do it is that every other day, you just have to think about the fact that once work is over, you get to go see the beautiful piano teacher.

It’s not hard to play down your skill, but it is a little bit funny every time you slip up and tell her you already know something and then have to make the excuse that you’re doing some studying on your own time as well.

Wanda has a sweet personality, though she is a bit cold and standoffish sometimes. You learn a lot about her over the past few weeks though, like her late brother Pietro, her friends Natasha and Clint who are also workers at the store, and how she came to love music so much as to start up her own store for it.

“You’re late.” She says when you run in six minutes past the time you’re supposed to be there, but her tone is light and teasing as she scans through some notes on her sheet music. She lets you take them home sometimes to study them, but you mostly just study her pretty handwriting and the little doodles she leaves for you to find.

You chuckle, taking off your coat and hanging it up next to her leather jacket near the door. The place is cozy and if not for the workers constantly running in and out, you’d say it feels more like a home than a store.

“Sorry. I was at work.” She nods as you speak, handing you a book she made more notes in before pointing over to a piano set up against a wall. It’s nicely toned and made of a beautiful wood, and once she learned it was probably your favorite, she “teaches” you at that one every single lesson.

You sit on the bench, trying your hardest not to blush when she rubs her hand on your back before sitting closely next to you. It’s one of your favorite parts of the lessons- when she sits close enough that you can smell her perfume. Vanilla with a hint of sage, and it’s quickly become one of your favorite scents.

“We’re gonna work on something a bit harder today alright? I think you can do it, but the notes are in a slightly weird pattern and may be hard to remember.” Wanda says, flipping to a page in the book before setting it up on the music rack.

It’s one of your favorites and quite easy to play after years of practicing, but you don’t tell her that.

By the end of the almost two hour lesson, you have pretended to learn the first part of the song, purposefully messing it up every once in a while so you don’t expose yourself.

You’re starting to feel a bit guilty about the lying, but then she smiles proudly and showers you in compliments and you forget all about it.

Wanda walks you to the door, leaning on the wall as you put on your coat and grab your stuff. You’re tired, but that feeling doesn’t even begin to compare to the one that comes when she holds your hand and smiles towards you.

“There’s a small event in town this weekend.” She starts, pointing towards the sign up on her big bulletin board. “A few people playing pieces, some nice food. I think you should join. You’re one of my most advanced students.”

You grin, hesitantly nodding. “I’d love to. That sounds like so much fun.”

The redhead nods as well, smiling slightly as she writes your name down on the sign up sheet. You’ll play after a few other students and teachers, and you must tell her what piece you want to play by tomorrow so you can spend the next few lessons practicing it.

With that you say your goodbyes, lingering in a hug with the Maximoff girl before you finally leave, walking home with a love sick smile on your face. Little did you know, the same one is gracing Wanda’s face as she closes up the shop and makes her way home.

— – — – — – — – —

When the day of the concert comes around, you’re nervous.

You don’t know why. You could play this piece in your sleep, but for some reason, the same nerves that were with you during your first performance as a child are now fluttering around in your stomach as you sit on a piano bench in the town square.

Wanda is talking with some of the other students, and you try and distract yourself by looking at her with adoration in your eyes, but it all comes back at a higher level when she notices you and winks your way.

She’s so pretty, and you fight the urge to slam your head on the instrument as she finishes up her conversation and begins walking towards you.

“Hey hon. How you feeling?” Wanda stands behind you, rubbing your shoulders reassuringly as she reads over the notes on your sheet music. You shrug, blushing brightly at her touch as you pretend to be focusing on smoothing out your shirt of non-existent wrinkles.

“I’m okay. Kinda nervous.” You say, and the blush only deepens when she hums in understanding and places a kiss on the top of your head.

“Don’t be. You’re going to be great.” Her words make you grin, and you lean your head back to rest on her stomach as she gently runs her fingers through your hair. Someone calls her name, so she gently caresses your face before patting your back and walking away.

Oh the things that Wanda Maximoff does to you.

While you’re waiting for your turn on stage, you get bored, so you sit back on the bench and begin to quickly play through one of the hardest songs you know. It took forever to learn and you still mess up every once and a while, but it still would sound beautiful to anyone and by the end of it, you do hear someone slightly chuckle in shock.

It isn't a happy laugh or happy shock though. That much you can tell.

“I didn’t teach you that.” A slightly bitter tone speaks, and you slowly turn around to come face to face with Wanda, fists clenched at her sides and a curious but slightly annoyed expression on her face.

You want to continue to lie, to tell her you’ve been working hard and her lessons are paying off, but no one who’s only been playing for a few months would be able to play that and she obviously knows the truth now.

“You wasted my time.” She says coldly, crossing her arms over her chest. She’s no longer the bubbly girl you’ve come to have the pleasure of knowing, instead going back to the closed off woman you first met. It’s all your fault.

You look down in shame, letting the bouquet rest by your side. “I’m so sorry Wanda.”

Wanda scoffs, glaring at you before she storms out of the room. She’s pissed, but a warm feeling settles in her chest at the knowledge you went through all of this to hang out with her, even with the thought that you don’t have a chance with her. You still wasted her time though, and you lied to her for weeks, almost months. How can she trust that you truly aren’t just some psycho?

You stay in the middle of town square, tears forming in your eyes as more and more people gather to listen to the other pianists. You’re falling in love with Wanda Maximoff, and up until this point, it’s only ever been clear and sunny skies. What are you supposed to do now that your first cloud has appeared?

— – — – — – — – —

After that, you stop going to your lessons.

Wanda finds herself missing you every time 6 o’clock comes around and you don’t come sprinting into the shop with your work uniform still on, rambling about something a stupid customer did like you’ve known Wanda forever. It feels like that, that’s for sure.

You spend every day in an endless cycle. Get up, go to work, walk the long way so you don’t risk running into Wanda outside of her music store, work a nine hour shift, and return to your quiet apartment where you sit in silence and mourn for someone that still lives.

Maybe you should adopt a dog.

One especially rough day, you wake up late, your alarm clock having turned off during a storm last night and reset itself all while you were asleep. Because of this, you wake up with five minutes to get ready and even less time to sprint to work, so you can’t take the long way like you usually do.

It’s lightly sprinkinly outside, so you don’t bother taking a jacket in the midst of chaos. That was clearly the wrong decision, as only a few minutes into your walk there, it starts absolutely pouring, and just like that, your uniform is soaked and you’re shivering. You don’t have any time to go back though, so you fight on, staying right next to the buildings for a bit of protection and you don’t even notice the person carefully watching you as you fastly walk down the sidewalk.

“Hey!” Someone calls out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into a familiar building. It’s calm and quiet music is playing somewhere, but all you can focus on is that Wanda is standing in front of you, holding out a dry towel for you to grab.

You hesitate, grabbing it and holding it closely around your body in hopes of stopping the cold feeling in your bones. It’s much warmer in here and the only rain is tapping against the window from outside, but Wanda is here and she looks at you with a type of distaste you’ve never seen before.

“I need to get to work. I’m late.” You mumble eventually after a few minutes of silence, but she just puts her hands on your shoulders and rubs them to bring you more warmth as she replies calmly, “No. I don’t want you to catch a cold.”

You go to argue, but she simply shakes her head and sits down at your piano on the other end of the room. She begins to play a simple but calm song, and she watches in the corner of her eye as you sink down on the couch next to the fireplace and slowly close your eyes. You’re still awake though, that much she can tell by the way your fingers tap along to the pattern of the music.

Finally she slowly stops the song, letting her hands fall to rest on her thighs as she stares at the keyboard with her eyebrows furrowed.

“Why would you lie to me?”

You open your eyes, watching with a guilty but sincere look as she chews on her lower lip and gently presses a few of the keys. “I’m truly sorry Wanda. I figured if we spent that time together, I would be able to learn more about you…in hopes of eventually asking you out. It was stupid, and wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She sighs, closing the keyboard cover and turning to face you. “If you had asked, I would have said yes.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Is she messing with you?

Wanda continues, “If you had just told me all of that when we first met, we could have gone out and gotten dinner or- or lunch or on a picnic like normal people.” You nod along, silently fidgeting with the bottom of your shirt. “So go ahead.”

You’re silent for a second, looking around as if wondering if she’s talking to you to which she giggles and nods. That laugh could fix all your issues.

“Wanda Maximoff, I’d really like to get to know you. The right way this time. Will you go out with me?” You ask nervously after clearing your throat and sitting up in your seat.

Wanda smirks, rubbing her chin as if in deep thought. “I don’t know…”

You laugh a bit when she does, though you’re too busy smiling brightly as she nods. “I’d love to go out with you. No lying to me this time though. And you have to teach me that song you were playing at the recital.”

“No way. A magician never reveals their secrets.” You tease, sitting next to her on the bench as she laces your hands together and says with her own smile, “Oh really? So I just agreed to a date for nothing? You’re mean.”

All is fair in love and music though.

⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ ☆ ໒˚⋆ ⋆˚ఎ

#wanda maximoff x you #marvel x reader #marvel #the scarlet witch x reader #the scarlet witch #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #marvel x you #piano

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jojos-bizarre-imagines · 2 months

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thinking about simeon again.. he is so much more complex and tragic and interesting than the sweet innocent uwu angel that some of the fandom portrays him as

simeon writing tsl to cope with the terrible things he’s seen about the future and can’t tell anyone

simeon obeying the celestial realm only out of fear and obligation, not because he has any real faith in what it stands for

simeon, who would do anything for the brothers, but who will never be considered a core member of the family because he was too afraid to rebel with them

simeon, who would sooner blame himself for the brothers’ rebellion than the system they were all trapped in (as if him simply talking to lucifer the day before the war would have eased the resentment that had been building up inside him for a long time before that), who would rather feel guilty than accept the alternative, that there was nothing he could have done to save them

simeon’s initial dislike of diavolo because he still holds onto the hope that things could change, which simeon dismisses as naive, and probably also because he’s a repackaged version of celestial realm leadership: never lies but doesn’t say the whole truth, friendly and arguably well-intentioned but more manipulative and controlling than he wants people to think

simeon purposefully being as indirect of a teacher as possible to luke because he can’t directly badmouth the celestial realm but wants luke to learn to think for himself instead of absorbing an ideology and never questioning it until he realizes too late how much harm it’s done to himself and others

simeon’s quiet defiance of the celestial realm, more of a resignation than a rebellion because he knows firsthand from watching the brothers the futility of trying to fight an entity like that

simeon accepting his punishment so casually since he’s seen it coming for a long time and has grown numb to the anxiety it gives him (and maybe, he thinks, it’s even what’s best for him, because part of him still wants to believe the celestial realm has good intentions)

human simeon trying to convince himself that he’s better off this way, that he’s free from the celestial realm’s control now, but still feeling deep down that this is actually more isolating and a worse punishment than becoming a demon because most of his loved ones live in the devildom, not the human world

human simeon hiding his depression because he doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially luke. simeon hiding his humanity because he’s not ready to see himself differently and doesn’t want other people to perceive him differently either, trying to fake it til he makes it by wearing different clothes but not feeling like himself in them

human simeon silently wishing mc would spend more time with him because this transition is scary—how does mc live like this? why did they seem to just abandon him after he confessed that he was a human? do they really accept him like this or are they just saying that?

i imagine human simeon having a private breakdown over something minor like not being able to open a jar of spaghetti sauce, because if he was already weak as an angel, he’s even more so now. his whole life he was told his sole purpose is to help others, and now he can’t even help himself

simeon knowing the whole time that he was going to lose his wings someday but still not being ready for it when it happened

#obey me #simeon #obey me spoilers

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risuola · 9 months

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SHUSH, WE'RE IN THE LIBRARY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

cw: smut, student x teacher, age gap (reader is 18, Satoru is 28), public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), little bit of cum play, reader discretion is advised — 1,8k words

a/n: since you liked the first part so much, here’s a little nsfw sequel

» FIRST PART

When you walked into the library earlier in the day, there wasn't a single hint as to how the visit was going to end. It had been a few days since your last training session with Gojo, the one where you kissed him (and punched him in the face), and everything seemed quiet after that – he left Tokyo for a couple of days on a business trip, and you had no idea he was already back. You were quickly made aware of that, when his honeyed tone reached your ears as you walked pass him, not even noticing the headful of white hair, “not even a hello? Ayy, that’s rude,” he chuckled and before you could even think of reaction, he was already behind you. You were searching for a book, somewhere in the middle of dozens of bookshelves, when he trapped you in between old medical literature and his well-build body.

“I didn’t notice you, sensei,” you admitted quietly, suddenly hyperaware of him – the sound of his voice, the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body; everything became all to close, tickling your senses and freezing you on the spot.

“I may forgive you,” he chuckled and you felt his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you flush to his torso. Breath stuck in your throat as you noticed the hard outline of his cock pressing against your back. “So, tell me, what are you looking for at that hour?”

“I forgot about homework Shoko gave me”, you responded, trying to keep your composure. “I came here to study before I meet with her.”

“Forgetting about homework? How unruly”, Gojo lowered his head, nipping at the tip of your ear and once again, you stopped breathing. It was all new to you, he was never that brave with his flirting but he had told you before he left that he’ll catch you when he’s back. That day on the training grounds, things got pretty heated, until he noticed some students approaching, what forced you two apart. “How about I give you a lesson.”

“Sens-“

“Shush, we’re in the library,” he smiled and your vision went dark, as he covered your eyes with his blindfold. Fighting with confusion, you forced your other senses to sharpen and you quickly became extremely aware of the traces his large hands were leaving all around your body, the wet marks his lips were planting on the sensitive skin of your neck and his rock-hard statue right behind you.

Satoru acted quickly, desperate to finally have you after he's been thinking about you nonstop for the last few days. He gathered your skirt up and unbuttoned your shirt a bit to get more access to your skin, while his lips never lost contact with your neck. Grateful for the early hour and the empty library, he whispered filthy little somethings into your ear, messing with your senses as you never knew from which side he'll speak next. Your little gasps and whimpers overjoyed him, the needy roll of your hips against his hardened cock made him hold his breath and he reached down, sneaking his hand under your belly and lower to tease you. The wetness that has already soaked a patch through your panties made him grin with cocky pride.

"So needy," he purred, not wasting any more time. His long fingers found their way beneath your underwear and you bit onto your lower lip, swallowing the whimper that threatened to escape your throat as you felt the circling pressure on the most sensitive bud in your body. Feeling brave, you reached back, touching his thigh and moving up to stroke his clothed member. The size hit you, a gasp left your mouth and you realized that there's no way he could fit inside you. As if sensing your hesitation, he undid the button and zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. You gasped as your palm wraped around his girth, your mind slowly spiraling about what you've gotten yourself into, but your pussy seemed to be nothing but excited. Satoru could feel the arousal underneath his fingers, he felt your clit throbbing and your hips rolling slightly to get more friction from his hand.

"Now you're going to be a good girl, yeah?" he smirked, taking away the pleasure of his digits and swiftly turning you around. "Down," he commanded, and without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. Quickly you found the magic wand, your eyes are still covered so touch was the only sense you could only rely on. As you stroked it up and down, you felt your mouth salivating, you were curious and decided that if you cannot see it, at least you can taste it. Driven by the thought, you gave the head of his cock a few experimental licks, circling your tongue around the tip and tasting the salty pre-cum that's already collected there.

You felt his hand stroke your head, wordlessly praising you and you took him into your mouth, slowly at first, almost teasingly, as you created a mental image of what you felt under your tongue – all the veins dancing around his long shaft, the sheer size of what you were working with, the way he filled your mouth completely and you still had room to use your hand. Encouraged by his palm, you picked up the pace, licking and sucking, listening to his breath hitching in his chest above you, and when the tip hit the back of your throat and you used your teeth to graze along the length, his head fell back. Few fucks left his throat and you felt him snap his hips forward. His cock was leaking, throbbing in the warmth of your mouth and you decided to tease him a bit.

Taking him out completely, you run your tongue along the underside of his hard member and Gojo felt like it's torture as your lips sucked hard on the very tip. "Enough teasing," he breathed out, grabbing you under your arms and pulling you up again, your back turned to him. The next thing you felt was his length sinking into you without warning.

He pushed himself into you painfully slowly, stretching you incredibly well, and you muffled the moan that tried to escape your chest with your hand. Satoru bottomed out, angling his hips upward, filling you just right as his palms landed on the sides of your waist, where he also kept your skirt from rolling down. Your panties were quickly torn by him, the seams giving up under the pressure of his strength, and you couldn't help but shiver at the sudden feeling of losing your underwear. "Such a good girl," he cooed directly into your ear, before pulling out almost completely, only to push back fully. He was drunk with the sight of his length disappearing inside you, the feeling of your muscles squeezing him is overwhelming and if it weren't for the grounding iron grip on your hips, he'd be completely lost here and there.

You bit down onto the heel of your palm, quieting yourself as your mind went completely blank. All your senses were focused on him – the taste that still lingered on your tongue, the musky scent of his cologne, and the way his thick cock hammered into you, twitching and flexing from time to time, successfully driving you crazy. You saw stars in the darkness of his blindfold. The force of his hips was brutal, stretching you deliciously with each thrust, kissing every sweet spot inside you, and the way your pussy squeezed him was a reward he found intoxicating.

You gripped tightly onto the bookshelves in front of you, your knuckles turning white as you tried to stabilize yourself. "S-sen-sei~," you panted, your words half coherent as Satoru ruthlessly pounded into you from behind. His hand crawled around your neck and pressed against your mouth, silencing you. "Sshh," he whispered directly into your ear and you could hear the amusement in his tone, you knew he was smiling, "you don't want anyone to hear you, do you?"

You didn’t, but how could you help it when he was abusing your cunt so well. You hummed, gritting your teeth to shut yourself up as he fucked his way right into your soul. Gojo watched with pride as you took him whole, the sound of skin slapping echoing in between shelves and the way your ass jiggled at the impact of his body colliding with yours made him go feral. You could feel yourself crumbling under the sheer power he had over you, your knees barely kept you standing, and if it wasn't for the supporting grip he had on your hip, you would have surely fallen over, defeated by the towering body that loomed over your own.

It became too much, he felt the warmth rushing through his veins and he leaned into you, burying every breathless groan into your shoulder and you could hear how fucked out he was, you felt him throbbing inside you and the dangerous wave of your release was approaching fast. The rhythmic squeezing of your pussy brought him to the edge and he babbled the most obscene praises against your neck. You felt like the temperature in the library raised, burning your skin with lust and satisfaction as you came undone, creaming around his cock and he followed closely, unable to resist the delightful twitches of your walls. Spilling his load, he filled you completely and you felt his thrusts becoming sloppier, uneven as he ride out the blissful haze and he laughed softly, his head buried in the skin between your neck and shoulder. He was overjoyed, ecstatic, he sounded almost high as he pulled out and turned you over so he could scoop you into his chest before you collapse.

Your knees were weak and you clung to him for dear life, focusing on the drumming of his heart beneath your ear. The library fell quiet, only your mingled breaths bounced off the bookshelves, quickly being absorbed by the countless pages of old literature.

You felt him pull away, smoothing your clothes back into place before zipping up his pants.

"You've been such a good girl," he praised, catching the drop running down your thigh with his fingers and then lifting it to your face. "Open," Satoru commanded and you complied, taking the digits into your mouth and licking them clean. "My favorite student."

When he finally removed the blindfold from your head, you felt the cold air hitting the damp skin underneath your eyes, Satoru smiled gently, wipes away the teary residue with his thumb and leaning in to plant a soft, tender kiss on your lips.

“I can’t wait until you graduate,” he muttered against your mouth.

“Gradua… fuck, I need to go see Shoko.”

“First you need to clean up. We’ve made quite a mess.”

“But-“

“I’ll explain you.”

“If you say so, sensei.”

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janeyseymour · 2 months

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Secrets

hi! so, an anon asked for this. i had a LOT of fun with this one, and i hope you enjoy! literally not edited in the slightest because this one wrote itself and i don't have time to read over 9k words.

summary: You're Ava's friend, and that is enough to make Melissa hate you. But then, through volunteering for different events through the school, the redheaded teacher finds that she's falling for you. You have money, not that anyone knows, and when the school desperately needs money, you anonymously donate a generous amount. Of course, the Abbott crew isn't satisfied with not knowing who donated all of that money, and they sure as hell intend to find out.

WC~9.4k

You grew up with a lot of money. You don’t even need this job- Daddy still has you covered and pays for most of your expenses, as much as you continue to tell him that you are perfectly capable of making it on your own. You have enough saved up from all of the ridiculous amounts of money you received from past birthdays, as well as high school and college graduation presents, not to mention the fact that you have a good portion of money invested into different stocks, and you’re doing pretty damn well for yourself.

Dad taught you all about personal finances when you were younger- he’s a successful day trader, but he’s always been on the financial side of business work to begin with, and Mom is a lawyer.

And while you had quite a lavish lifestyle, your parents still chose to reside in Philadelphia, and not necessarily the nice area of Philly either. But it was part of their story, and they wanted to stay close to their roots, so they raised you here. And growing up, you became close friends (maybe even best friends) with the one and only: Ava Coleman. She was your partner in crime growing up, and you never lost contact with her once you graduated high school.

You went off to school to pursue a career in education, much to both of your parents surprise- but they supported you in your decision.

(“I hope you raise the next generation to be smart,” Mom had told you. “Bring up some new lawyers for generations to come, yeah?”

“Teach those kids how to make it out alive like Ma and I did, got it kiddo?” Dad had joked with you, but you knew he was being serious.)

After years of teaching at one of the other public schools in the suburbs of your city, you decided that you wanted to come back to your roots. You miss Philly and all of the excitement that comes with it. You miss the odd odor that lingers in the streets, and the way that no one could give half a shit and jaywalked. You miss the way that you could pretty much walk anywhere, and within a few minutes you could be milling around Reading Terminal Market looking for some good eats. So you call your best friend for some advice.

“Girl, why didn’ you tell me sooner?” Ava asks you once you’ve explained to her that you want to come back to the city. “I own a school now, and I can for sure get you a job here.”

“Ava,” you sigh. “What the hell do you mean you own a school? Do you mean you’re the principal of a school?”

“Same thing,” you can practically hear your best friend rolling her eyes.

“That’s awesome,” you congratulate her. “How’d you manage that?”

“You know how I’ve been helping out at the Abbott elementary admin building with financials? Well,” she cackles into the phone. “I did some deep diving, and I found out that the super intendant of the district has been sleeping around- found hotel bills and everything on the company card for quickies. All I had to do was bring that up, and boom! I get a new title, a nice raise, and I own a school! I’ve been there for a couple months now, but there are more turnovers here than there were in the last Super Bowl, so I can for sure get you in.”

“A couple months? Has it really been that long since we last talked?”

“Since we actually caught up, yeah,” she sighs dramatically. “You and your fancy teaching job out in the ‘burbs. It ain’t gonna be fancy like that though, we don’ even got money for a proper librarian.”

“Remember, we grew up in Philly,” you remind her. “I know what it’s like. But can you really get me a job?”

“For sure,” she tells you. “With Summer coming up, I be knowin’ I’m about to get a lot of resignations from these people I thought were spicy White people but ain’t. The only spicy white lady here is Schemmenti- pretty sure she’s part of the mob, but I ain’t about to dig. We’ll have you join us next school year.”

“I highly doubt a teacher working in Philly is part of the mob,” you roll your eyes. “But if you’re serious, then yes. I would love to come work with you.”

“For me,” she corrects. “Just because we friends don’t mean I ain’t about to subject you to all of my bullshit at school- you get to deal with the full Ava experience in all its glory just like everybody else.”

“I’ve been subject to it for my entire life,” you laugh.

“I’ll reach out when I can officially accept your resume and offer you a position, but in the mean time… girl, when we getting our nails done?”

By some grace of God, Ava is able to keep her word, and you’re officially an employee of Willard R. Abbott Elementary School starting in August as a second grade teacher. You walk in arms full of boxes stacked so high you can barely see over them, not dressed in your fanciest clothes- you have a whole separate wardrobe when it comes to teaching. You know how this works- clothes will be ruined. Hell, some clothes were ruined at a nicer suburban school, so you know that some of your outfits will not be wearable by the end of the school year- or even the first week with the kids if you’re that unlucky.

“There you are, bitch!” Ava grins and runs over to you as you enter. She’s decked out in Eagles apparel, it’s all bejeweled in true Ava Coleman fashion. “I’m so happy you’re here- you boutta blow the roof off this place!”

You roll your eyes playfully but smile at her. “Can you just show me where my room is so I can start setting it up before we have to do our development activities?”

“Don’t you got people to do that for you?”

“No,” you shake your head. “I am fully capable of setting up my classroom myself- without people to move everything for me.”

“Lame,” she sighs. “I always like seeing the sexy movers your Dad hires for you.”

“I explicitly told him I didn’t want him to do that for me,” you tell her. “And I told him that if he sent people here to move stuff from my car, I would never be respected. I know how it goes around here, and so does he. So, here I am.”

The principal leads you down to your room. “All yours,” she grins as she unlocks the door.

You look around once you’ve set your boxes on the ground and bite your lip thoughtfully. You can make do with this space.

“Your team is Janine… annoying ass dork, and Melissa… mean Italian lady who is working for the mob.”

“You’re still on that?”

“Guilty until proven innocent!” Ava quips.

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “Care to give me a hand with unloading the rest of the stuff from my car?”

“Girl, I just got my nails done, and you sure as hell know I don’t do manual labor. I’m the principal now- that shit’s beneath me!” She turns on her heel. “See you in the library in an hour!”

You report down to the gym a little before everyone else to get your bearings, and to beg your best friend to not make a huge deal about you being here- specifically requesting that she doesn’t speak anything of your family or the business. You have a relatively common last name, so it isn’t like anyone would hear your name and immediately know of your family either.

“I won’ say anything about your fam, but you sure as hell know I’m gonna let them know your my bitch and they shouldn’t mess with you.”

You sulk back to your seat, dreading whatever the hell Ava is going to say about your arrival at the school.

The rest of your colleagues make their way in and take seats in their designated seats, you still lingering in the back. This way, you’re able to see some new faces, and you wouldn’t want to take anyone’s unofficially assigned seat. Once everyone is seated you join them. You can immediately pick out a few of the names that Ava had thrown out over the summer. Janine is sitting with Gregory and Jacob, and the redheaded woman is clearly Melissa. Sitting next to her is who has to be what Ava described to as, “Melissa’s heterosexual work wife and life partner,” Barbara Howard.

The principal heads to the stage and starts her greeting in true Ava fashion- telling them all how much she wishes they weren’t here and she was still clubbing it up down at the shore, but she supposes it’s okay to see them again. And then she begins to introduce the new teachers- she, of course, saves you for last.

“And finally,” she breaks out in a grin and does a little dance. “we have Y/N. Listen up: this girl is my ride or die, and even one of you steps out of line towards her, and we gon’ have problems.”

All eyes turn to you and your red cheeks, but you give a small wave.

“Now, onto the boring stuff,” Ava sighs. She drones on about the new school year and what is going to (supposedly) pan out over the next nine months before she dismisses you all to prep in your classrooms for the remainder of the day.

You make a break for the door as soon as you can, sweater wrapped around you tightly even though it’s sweltering hot in the school- apparently Mr. Johnson still hasn’t fixed the air conditioning because he forgot which Boyz II Men song he assigned to the air system. As soon as you’re in your classroom, your sweater is off and you’re fanning yourself with a paper fan you had folded for yourself.

You continue to prepare for your students until you hear a gentle knock on the door. Who is standing there but Janine and Melissa.

“Hi!” Janine grins as she steps in. “It’s so great to have you as an addition to our team, and Melissa and I just wanted to stop by and introduce ourselves! I’m Janine, and this is-” She nudges the woman next to her.

The redhead just huffs and rolls her eyes. “Schemmenti,” is all she says.

“If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to come and ask one of us. My room is just down the hall, but lucky for you- Melissa’s room is right next door to you!”

“Don’t need anything,” the fiery second grade teacher warns you. “I don’t got time for someone who’s gonna leave in a few weeks.”

You’re somewhat taken aback by her abrasive personality, but you just smile instead. “Thank you,” is all you say once Janine has hissed out a quiet, “Melissa!”

“Did you need any help at all yet?”

“She don’t need help, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “She’s got Ava on her side.” And with that, the redhead turns on her heel and leaves.

“Don’t mind her,” Janine tells you as she steps into your classroom a bit further. “She’s got a tough exterior, and she hated me too at first. But now, she’s like my work mom, with Barbara being my other work mom, of course. She even brought me lunch to make sure I eat today.”

“That’s very kind of her,” you say as you continue to set up your room.

“I like what you have goin’ on here,” your colleague nods her head in approval. “Nice and warm, kinda like my room! Well, I have to get back to my own classroom, but if you need anything, come on down! The price is right!” She laughs at her own joke before strolling down the hallway.

Your first day at school is relatively peaceful, and before you know it, you’re allowed to leave. Of course though, you do plan on staying later because you have to finish up a few things before you’ll be satisfied with the progress you’ve made.

You see Melissa leaving her classroom, and despite not necessarily wanting to, you call out a gentle, “Have a good night, Melissa.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, just gives a short nod of the head in your direction before continuing on down the hall.

As you gather your things to leave for the day, Ava shows up at your door.

“So, we goin’ out for drinks?”

“I don’t think I can,’ you sigh. “I still have a lot of stuff that I have to prep for this, and I want to make sure it all gets done before the kids show up.”

“Girl, this would all be way easier if you just-”

“I don’t need any hired help,” you cut her off because you know exactly what she was going to say.

“Well then, I’m coming over,” your friend tells you, leaving no room for arguments. “It’s been too long since I seen you, or drank some of the good ass wine I know you have at your house.”

“Be my guest,” you chuckle as you sling your bag over your shoulder.

The rest of your development days are filled with boring meetings and time to prepare your classrooms. You find yourself a part of a committee to help with funding with a nudge from Ava.

“Girl, you don’t gots to tell them how you know all of this stuff about finances,” she tells you. “But it would be a big help to have someone like you on our team.”

“Fine. But if it gets out who I come from, I’m pulling out,” you point a finger at her. “I am not about to let my father get his hands on this and try to turn the school charter like he’s done before.”

She nods. “Whatever.”

The school year starts off strong. You’ve settled into your classroom, your kids absolutely adore you, and you adore them. You’ve spent some time with the other teachers in the school, besides Melissa, during preps, lunch duties, and recess duties. They all seem to like you, and you like them too.

Still though, you find yourself coming in early and staying late in order to get as much as you can together- you know once actual classwork starts to trickle in for you to grade, your plate is only going to get much more full. So any work that you can streamline and work ahead on, you do. The time where teachers are allowed to leave is upon you, and as much as you want to go home and take a nap, you know you really should stay and continue to work on lesson plans. Maybe you should start hanging up some of the work that your students have already done- their all about me posters and drawings. With a sigh, you gather the materials you’ll need to create a bulletin board and the footstool you keep in your cabinet and make your way into the hallway.

“Oi,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she closes her door for the night. “You know that working overtime won’t make you a better teacher.”

“I know,” you say softly. “But you know how it goes your first year in a new school.”

“Yeah, I don’t miss that shit,” the redhead huffs and starts to make her way down the hall.

“Have a good night, Melissa,” you call quietly.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t tell me what to do,” she tosses over her shoulder.

Wow. This woman was not easy to work with.

The next few days continue on like this, you staying later and later in order to stay on top of everything.

On Friday, you arrive early as you always do. While it’s casual Friday, and you’re allowed to wear jeans, you opt for a flowery sundress instead. It’ll keep your body temperature more regulated than a pair of stuffy jeans would. You know you aren’t doing anything where a student could accidentally destroy this dress either, so you think it’s a safe call.

As you enter the staff room to grab your lunch from the refrigerator, you hear the redhead’s low voice.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she challenges you, and you really don’t know why she’s doing this.

“Hm?” you hum as you grab your salad from the shelf.

“You think you’re better than us, don’t you?” she repeats. “Coming in here all cozy with Ava, wearing something or than jeans on casual Friday, already having bulletin boards up… you might’ve come from a nice school bonfire, but you’re here now- adjust.”

All of your coworkers’ eyes go wide at this unprovoked ‘fight’ you’ve found yourself in, and a few of them scold her.

“What’s she gonna do?” Melissa fires out to Barbara. “Go tell on me to Ava and get me fired? Please.”

You bite your lip nervously before smiling tightly. “Have a nice lunch, y’all… and have a nice weekend if I don’t catch you before school’s over.” You leave the room with that and head back down to your classroom to eat your lunch while you pour over your lesson plans.

“Melissa,” Barbara sighs. “Y/N has done nothing to you, and you’re treating her terribly! There is no need; you are better than this!”

“Listen, she’s just another one of Ava’s minions who is going to reign hell on me during the school year. She already drives me nuts with the effort she’s putting in.”

“She may be friends with Ava,” Janine cuts in. “But I really don’t think she’s like her- she seems like she has drive and a true passion for our kids.”

“And that is what we need at this school,” the kindergarten teacher tells her friend. “We need people who are willing to put in the effort and love on these kiddos the way that she is. I already had Dante tell me during my lunch duty that he loves second grade because of her! Do not go tearing her down and forcing her out when we need more educators like her!”

“I don’t-”

“Melissa Ann Caterina Schemmenti,” Barbara pulls out the redhead’s full name, and Melissa’s eyes go wide at that. “Be nicer to the young girl. Give her a chance. You weren’t even this hard on Jacob and Janine when they first joined us.”

“And now you’re like my work mom!” the energetic teacher grins.

“You don’t even have to go out of your way to be nice to her,” the elder teacher says. “Just don’t be so harsh.”

“If I say sure, can we go back to eating lunch and talking about our weekend plans?”

Deciding that you’ve put enough hard work into this week and you’ll make sure you’re in here bright and early the day after Labor day, you grab your bag to head out on time and make the most of this long weekend. You close your door and begin to lock it just as Melissa makes her way out of the classroom.

“You’re not staying late tonight?” she looks at you with a raised brow.

“No,” you chuckle. “I figured that I deserve to have this weekend to relax after a hectic first week. But I’ll be back bright and early on Tuesday.”

“Mhmm,” the redhead hums as she fiddles with her door. “Shit,” she grumbles as she struggles to get the lock to turn.

“Do you want some help?” you ask her gently.

“I got it,” she holds up a hand. “I’ve been dealing with this damn door for the last two years. Mr. J will get around to it eventually.”

After watching her fight with the lock for long enough, you sigh and pull a bobby pin out of your hair. “Seriously, let me help.”

She steps aside, arms folded over her chest. Before you know it, you have her door locked, and you’re sliding the pin back into your hair.

“Thank you,” she mutters.

“Of course,” you smile at her shyly. “Hey, have a nice weekend.”

“You too, kid,” she tells you, and there isn’t any sort of bite behind her words. She isn’t smiling at you, but she also isn’t scowling at you.

Content with that conversation, you head for the doors and out to your car.

You make a pitstop on your way home into the Home Depot- you’’ just buy a new lock for Melissa’s door and install it on Tuesday when you get there. It’s a simple fix, and she doesn’t have to know it was you that did it.

The weekend is nice. You and Ava go out clubbing on Friday and Saturday night before nursing your hangovers on Sunday together. And then on Monday, you make your way over to your parents’ house with your partner in crime for the Labor Day barbecue they always hold. It’s a good time, as it always is. Your parents are happy to see the lively woman again, and they thank her for helping to get you back to your roots.

You’re back at Abbott bright and early- earlier than anybody else besides the janitor that lingers in the halls and doesn’t do his job.

“Good morning, Mr. J!” you greet him happily.

“Y/N,” he smiles back at you. “You have a nice weekend?”

“I did,” you reply as you make your way down to your wing. “And you?”

“Always a good time when you’re me,” he chuckles before continuing on his way humming a Boyz II Men song.

You quickly drop your things off in your room before changing out your colleague’s crappy lock. You leave the new key in the hole so she has it, and then you settle at your desk to continue working on your lesson plans and preparations.

You hear her before you see her passing by your room to get to hers.

“Hey, good morning,” you greet her quietly.

“Mornin’,” she huffs. You’ve gathered that she isn’t much a morning person- at least not until she’s had her first cup of coffee and has watched the news in the break room with her friends.

You a hear a soft, “Huh,” come from her mouth as she notices there’s a new lock on her door. “Took you long enough, Mr. J.” She has no idea it’s you that changed it. Hopefully, this starts her week of well.

Your exchanges with the Italian lady in the room next door don’t much go beyond a good morning and a good night each day as the weeks go on, but she doesn’t frown at your mere existence anymore. If you squint, you can almost see a smile. The rest of your colleagues really seem to taking a liking to you, and you’re genuinely happy that you made the decision to come work here- even if it means putting up with your best friend’s shenanigans.

Everything is going swimmingly at work until one day Ava calls an emergency staff meeting at the end of the day.

Making your way into the library, you genuinely have no idea what she could have to announce so urgently. Apparently, neither do any of the other teachers.

“You’re close with her,” Melissa falls into step with you. “You know what she’s gonna say?”

“No idea,” you tell her quietly. “I’m just praying it’s not another pyramid scheme of hers. I can’t get her out of any more trouble with those.”

The redhead looks at you curiously, but you don’t say anything else. You don’t want to admit that when Ava finds herself in legal troubles, she usually calls your mother and she helps clean up the mess pro bono.

The two of you settle into the library chairs amongst the rest of your coworkers, but Ava is nowhere to be found.

“Good lord,” Barbara mutters. “This better be worth staying after. I’m going to be late to dinner with Gerald.”

Your friend enters the library looking rather frazzled. “Hey, y’all. Listen, I gotta make this quick because I have to get to a hair appointment, but I wanted you to hear it from me before word got around: the district is trying to cut our budget, and with our budget being cut, that means they’ll cut the arts programs. I know y’all don’t want that, so start coming up with ways to get us out this mess!”

Before anyone can ask any questions, she leaves.

“What the hell?” Melissa looks angry- like really angry. Her nostrils are flared, her eyes are wide, and she’s balling up her hands into fists. “Barb, you and me to the mall. I’m gonna need a new shakedown sweater.”

With no hesitation, the kindergarten teacher follows her work wife out of the school.

That night, Ava calls you.

“Girl… you know what we have to do,” she tries to convince you to let out your secret about your wealth.

“No,” you say for the millionth time. “We are going to fundraise, we’re going to get the money so that they can’t cut it… I’ll work with Janine and the budgeting committee to see where we can make small cuts here and there to scrounge up some more money… but I am not letting my dad get wrapped up in this and be in his debts. You know how he likes to hold stuff like that over my head, and he will turn Abbott charter if we let him get involved with this.”

You work tirelessly to come up with multiple fundraisers, different presentations to bring to the district offices, and work with the budgeting committee to make small cuts where you have a bit of wiggle room. You even tell them they can cut your salary by 2% if it means a little extra money- it may not be a lot, but it’s something that you’re willing to give considering your sizable bank account anyway. You do all of this, on top of continue to work in your classroom. You’re exhausted.

You volunteer for the events that you’ve helped to organize, and so have quite a few of the other teachers.

“We are not losing the arts program,” Melissa fumes multiple times a week. “I need my prep to keep my sanity.”

“Amen to that,” Barbara usually remarks after that.

“If it means volunteering a few hours here or there for these events, I’ll do it,” the redhead tells you when you hesitantly approach her crew about helping out.

So, here you are with Melissa at the art show.

The conversation is awkward and stilted for quite some time before she finally sighs.

“You’re doing good,” she tells you. “I haven’t seen a turn out like this in quite some time.”

“Anything for the kids,” you reply. “They need it.”

“Why here?” she finally asks you the question that’s been eating at her for some time- since the first day you walked in really.

“I grew up in Philly,” you tell her. “It was time to come back to my roots, and Ava offered me a position. The stars aligned for me, and I’m quite content in my decision to be back in a city school. I can help make a difference for these guys like some of my teachers did for me.”

“For someone who’s friends with Ava, you sure have a lot more heart than I thought you would,” she admits.

You smile. “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

“How long you two been friends? Meet in college at the clubs?”

“Nah,” you laugh softly. “I grew up with Ava living a few houses down from me. We’ve been friends since I was the shy girl in the first grade who sat by myself at recess. Next thing I know, she’s next to me rambling on about whatever first grade drama was happening and telling me I was her girl. I still don’t know why she chose me to come up to that day. Maybe it’s because I actually listened to her. But we’ve been stuck together since that day.”

“You’re good for her,” Melissa tells you. “I haven’t seen Ava put in this much effort to something that doesn’t directly benefit her before. And I think it really does have something to do with you being here and leading a lot of it.”

“Thank you,” you smile again.

That night is where everything starts to change. Melissa slowly starts to show you the other side of her personality- the kind, would take a bullet for you if she had to side. You quite like it.

As the months go on, you still work tirelessly to put together different events to try to save the arts. Melissa even helps you plan a few, and she offers her “I know a guy” line when you’re looking for different ways to draw people in. The two of you begin to work closely in order to make sure that these events happen, and that they’re good. The redhead sees how hard you work and how driven you are. She respects it.

You find yourselves chaperoning quite a few events- choir shows, band shows, a few school dances…

And while you’re at these events, the redhead sticks by your side through most of the nights. She finds that she quite likes being around you actually. She lets you into her personal life slowly. You tell her little bits about your life while still not revealing that you come from the line that you do.

She realizes that she’s starting to fall for you- and that terrifies her to no end. But she can’t quite pull herself away from you. Not now. Not after getting to know you and see how down to earth and honest you are with what you do- not after you’ve shown her that you’re here to stay and you’re going to show up for these kids in any way you possibly can.

Finally, the biggest event that you’ve planned, and your last attempt at hitting the quota to keep the arts program around for another year (you don’t even want to think about having to go through this charade all over again next year) is here.

It’s another AvaFest kind of deal, but you’re able to utilize the outside part of your school grounds this year. Inside, there are smaller games, a few tables from local vendors, music provided by Janine’s ex-boyfriend. Outside though, is a whole other story. It practically looks like a carnival.

There’s a ball toss, a free-throw game, a balloon dart stand, a game to throw footballs through some holes, the dunk tank has been moved outside and a handful of teachers have volunteered to partake in it… all of the ticket stands and games are being run by various teachers and aides in the school. And the assortment of goodies around? Apparently, Melissa knows quite a few guys who participate in the food industry because you have a grilled cheese stand, a lemonade stand, a guy who’s making hoagies… she even knew a guy to come head a cotton candy machine for the event. And that’s not even naming all of the vendors.

You don’t have any assigned places to be because you’re overseeing that the event runs smoothly. So you’re milling about with your clipboard in hand, checking over the different stands. And while you expected Melissa to sit at the ticket table with Barbara, she follows you around and is your right hand man throughout the night. She checks in with the people that she knows, shoots the shit, and helps you solve any issues that arise through the night- not that there are many. You worked your ass off to ensure that everybody participating in this school wide event was compensated for their time and hard work.

“You really outdid yourself, hun,” Melissa comments quietly once you’ve found a moment to just stand and take it all in.

“Oh, I couldn’t have done it without everyone else helping,” you brush off her compliment. “You were a really big help, so thank you.”

“We all pitched in, but you’re the brains behind all of this,” she tells you. “Don’t sell yourself short. This jawn just might have to become an annual thing.”

“Oh, don’t remind me of what I’m going to have to pull of next year,” you groan playfully. “After this, I’m done with ideas for the year.”

“That ain’t true, and you know it. If something else comes up, you and I both know you’ll be the first one organizing something.”

“I know,” you sigh. But then you smile softly. “It’s all for the kids though. They deserve it.”

“They do,” she agrees. “And because of you, they’re gonna get it.” She gently hip checks you.

You blush and shrug.

“You got a real knack for this. If you weren’t such a good teacher, I’d tell you to go into professional party planning,” the redhead quips. She doesn’t know that you’ve been helping plan company parties with your parents for years now.

“It’s more a hobby,” you tell her. “I’m a teacher at heart.”

“A teacher with a damn good heart,” she corrects you.

“You think this is all gonna be worth it?” you ask her nervously. “Think we’re gonna hit the mark?”

“I’d put money on it,” she tells you honestly. “With the last events you’ve organized, and this one being our biggest success yet, I think we’ll exceed it.”

“God, I hope so.”

You don’t make enough money to keep the funding for the arts program. You’re devastated. Absolutely crushed. You burst into tears when Ava announces that bit of information sadly at the next staff meeting, rushing out of the room to try to compose yourself.

Melissa runs after you. You don’t really know why, but she does.

“Hey,” she comes into your classroom, grabbing a tissue on her way over to you. She gently wipes your tears away. “We did our best. You did your best. And that… is enough.”

“It isn’t though,” you choke out. “We’re losing the arts program, and those teachers are going to be let go, and I-”

“I’m sure Ava will find somewhere else for them to be placed,” Melissa tries to comfort you.

“And- and we’re going to lose our preps, and… and the kids deserve to have the arts!” you cry. “When I was in school, that was my favorite part of the day, and now they won’t be able to experience that joy!”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to incorporate it into your lessons,” the redhead tells you gently as she pulls you into a hug. “You did everything you could… but sometimes at the end of the day, life sucks.”

“It’s not fair,” you whine.

“Life ain’t always fair, hun,” Melissa reminds you. “But we do our best with what we’ve been given. And now, all the money that we raised can go into buying supplies for the kids next year.”

You sigh and wipe at the last of your tears. You take a deep breath. “Y-yeah. Okay,” you whisper sadly.

“It’s gonna be okay, hun,” she promises you. “And who knows, maybe a miracle will happen, and we’ll get to keep the programs.”

And just like that, her words give you an idea. You know how you can make a miracle happen. You have to contain your excitement as the thought pops into your head. The two of you return to the staff meeting where Ava is rambling on about who knows what, but you’re itching to get out of there.

Once you’re dismissed, you head back to your classroom, open up your laptop and log in. You check your bank account balances, and pleased with the numbers, you pull up the GoFundMe page that was up for the school.

“You’re stayin’ late again tonight?” Melissa knocks on your door, purse slung over her shoulder and sunglasses already on.

“Just a few minutes,” you look up and smile at her. “I have a few emails I have to respond to.”

“Alright,” she taps the doorframe a few times. “Try to have a good night, yeah?”

“I will,” you tell her. “You too, Melissa.”

“Thanks, hun.”

With that, she’s off, and you can go back to what you were doing. You click on the “Donate Now” button without hesitation.

You donate the first $50,000, and then another $50,000 anonymously, and you absolutely beam when you see that you’ve hit your goal and then surpassed it. Satisfied, you close out of the tabs and close your laptop. Now, you just have to wait for tomorrow morning when Ava, the organizer of the fundraiser, sees the email. You know she won’t see it tonight- she’s off the clock.

A few hours later, you get a text from your best friend.

Hey, you still holding up ok? she sends.

I’m alright, you text back. So she hadn’t seen the donations yet. I’m drinking wine right now if you want to come over.

Girl, say less.

She’s over at your house in less than fifteen minutes, and it takes everything in you to not tell her what you had done. She heads home after finishing off the bottle, bidding you a goodnight and a see you tomorrow.

You sleep like a baby that night.

The next morning, you’re back in your classroom setting up your science experiment for the day when Ava’s voice comes over the intercom.

“Attention Abbott Elementary: there is a mandatory staff meeting, right now. Start heading down to the library. That means you, Schemmenti.”

You grin as you stand back up straight and make your way for the door. Right before you exit, you put on your best neutral face.

“Damn,” Melissa groans as she leaves her room. “Tell your friend not to call me out like that. I skip on meeting, and she’s all over me.”

“I don’t control what she does, and you know that,” you chuckle.

“What do you think this is about?” she asks you as the two of you make your way down the hall.

You shrug. “For all I know, it could be that she got a manicure and wants to show it off.”

The two of you find seats at your table, Barbara arrive a few seconds later.

“What on Earth could this woman have forgotten to tell us yesterday?” the kindergarten teacher huffs. “I have things to do!”

“I was setting up my science experiments for the day,” you grumble. “If this isn’t worth it, I’m making her set the rest of it up.” You know it will be worth it.

“Good morning, subordinates!” Ava makes it known that she’s entering the library. “I have some great news!”

Everyone silently urges her to go on.

“I have no idea who did this- sure as hell wasn’t me- but, we got some donations after school yesterday!” She projects the webpage up onto the screen.

Everyone gasps when they see how much money had been donated last night. To keep up appearances, your eyes widen, your jaw drops, and you well up with tears. Acting classes from when you were younger sure are paying off now.

“Oh my- Oh my god!” you shout, and Melissa is hugging you tightly.

“So, thanks to these very generous donations, we’re able to keep the arts programs up and running for at least the next three years!” Ava grins.

“Well, who donated?” Janine asks. “We have to find out so we can thank them!”

“Who cares?” Ava rebuts. “We got what we wanted! Now back to work, slackers!”

You stay in your seat, pretending to be in complete and utter shock while everyone else starts to get up. Almost every teacher comes up congratulating you and telling you that your hard work paid off. Melissa sits with you, happy as can be, and only reaffirming what everyone else is already telling you. Only once everyone else has left does she say anything else.

“Y/N,” she grins. “This is incredible. I told you your hard work would pay off. It’s a freakin’ miracle!”

“Y-Yeah,” you match her smile. “God, this is great.”

The two of you sit there for some time, chatting about how you could use some of the funding to buy more supplies and the likes until you remember you still have to finish setting up your science materials.

“Oh shit!” you whisper. “I- I gotta go finish setting up before the kids come in!” You take off in the direction of your room, and the redhead can only watch you as you go with a lovestruck look in her eyes.

When you’re halfway there, you hear Ava’s voice over the speaker again. “Y/N, my office.”

“Fuck,” you mumble as you halt sprinting down the hallway and turn to make your way down to her room. There was no way you would be able to finish preparing for today at this rate.

“This better be quick. I have to-”

“You donated that money, didn’t you?” Ava gets right to the point.

Your eyes widen. Your cover was blown with her, meaning it was going to be blown quickly among your colleagues as well.

“Well, was it?”

You nod subtly. “But please… don’t say anything. Please. I did it for the kids, and I have enough stashed away, and-”

“Your secret’s safe with me,” your best friend grins. “Why you think I didn’t say nothin’ at the meeting today?”

“You’re the best,” you sigh in relief.

“Don’t I know it,” the principal cackles. “Now, fo’ real. Come shoot an instagram video with me to announce that we met our goal.”

“Ava, I actually have-”

“I’ll tell,” she singsongs. “C’mon. We need our fearless leader and organizer to be part of the video.”

“Fine.”

The two of you finish the video about five minutes before the kids will start to show up, and you practically sprint back to your classroom to attempt the impossible task of finishing setting up.

When you get there though, Melissa is in your room just finishing up the last station.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you say quietly as you make your way into the room.

“Nah,” she shrugs. “But I wanted to. I got the time.”

“Thank you,” you grin.

“Noticed your coffee cup was empty too,” she notes. “So I made you a new one. Hope that’s alright.”

You walk over to your desk and take a sip of the warm drink. It’s perfect.

“Thank you,” you make your way over to her and squeeze her shoulder gently. “Seriously. You just made my day.”

“Nah, that mysterious donor did,” she chuckles. “But I’m glad I could help. Have a good morning, and I’ll see you at lunch?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you mock salute her. “Thank you again.”

You greet your children at the door, coffee mug and heart both full. Melissa greets her own students, but she can’t stop watching you. You’re just… so perfect. She knows she’s falling for you hard. Maybe at the end of the week she’ll confess her feelings- no, she will. She makes up her mind: she’s going to confess her feelings to you by Friday, if not before. She just has to work up the nerve to do it.

At lunch, the conversation is almost solely on who the mystery donor is. You play dumb, and you tell everyone that you’re just happy the school gets to keep their program from next to Melissa.

“I know a guy who could find out for us,” the redhead tells your colleagues.

“Oh, do it,” Janine grins. “That way, we can have our kids make cards and send them to the person to thank them! Oh my god- do you guys think our donor is Taylor Swift?! She does stuff like this sometimes!”

“She usually puts her name to it,” you chuckle. “But seriously, I think we should just be grateful. Ava and I already thanked the person on the school’s webpage and social media, and I think that should suffice.” You really don’t want to be found out.

“I already got the guy on the line,” Melissa rolls her eyes as she types away on her phone. “I’m gonna have to make a tray of ziti and some meatballs as payment though.”

You bite your lip. You really, truly pray that her guy won’t be able to find you out. But, her people usually come through for her… maybe just this once, they won’t be able to?

“Oi, Y/N,” Melissa taps your elbow gently.

“Hm?”

“We lost ya there for a second,” she tells you. “I asked if you would come over to help me make the food, since we’s in this situation because of your fundraiser.”

“Oh,” you blush. “Uh, sure. When?”

“You got anything goin’ on tonight?” she asks. You shake your head. “Then tonight. I’ll text you my address. Bring a bottle of wine.” At that moment, she silently promises herself she’ll talk to you about her feelings for you.

You nod and continue to eat your lunch quietly, letting the conversation around you continue as you continuously plead with the lord that they don’t find out it’s you who donated all that money.

You show up to your coworker’s house promptly at 5:30, like she asked, with a nicer bottle of wine in hand. You hope she’ll like it.

When she opens the door, you have to stop yourself from blushing at the sight of her. You’ve seen her at school, and you wouldn’t admit it to anyone else, but you find her attractive there. In the comfort of her own home though, she’s almost even more gorgeous.

“Hey,” she opens the door. “C’mon in. I got all the stuff ready.”

You enter quietly, offering her the bottle of wine. She pulls her glasses from off the top of her head and puts them on before inspecting the bottle.

“Damn,” she says. “You got good taste, but expensive taste.”

“I figured I could splurge for a celebration,” you offer up.

She leads you to the kitchen and pulls out two wine glasses before pouring some into each. Once you have yours in hand, she quietly raises her own in a toast.

“To this mystery donor,” she says quietly. You clink your glass with hers before sipping on the wine.

By the time all of the food is in the oven, the two of you have gotten through about three quarters of the bottle and plan to finish off the rest on her couch.

“This was nice,” you tell her quietly.

“Yeah,” she hums, but you can tell her mind is clearly somewhere else.

“Hey, penny for your thoughts?” you ask her.

She hums again, still wrapped up in her own inner turmoil over telling you that she has a thing for you.

“Mel,” you tap her gently, the nickname rolling off of your tongue for the first time.

She snaps out of her trance.

“What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?” you ask softly.

She bites her lip nervously before whispering, “Please don’t hate me for this.” And then she gently presses her lips to your own.

Your eyes widen before you kiss her back just as tenderly. When you need air, you pull back.

“Oh, god,” she whispers.

“Hey,” you set a warm hand on her knee. And then you lean in and kiss her again so she knows that you aren’t upset with her; you don’t hate her.

“So…” she hums when you two part again. “I- I have a thing for you.”

“You wouldn’t say?” you tease her. “If it wasn’t clear, I like you too. I just didn’t think you would ever go for someone like me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she frowns. “You’re… you.”

“Yeah,” you laugh weakly as you run a hand through your hair. “I’m me. Shy, quiet, dorky… always working… friends with Ava.”

“Mm,” she hums as she shifts closer to you. “You are you: hard working, driven, down to earth, kind… heart of gold… gorgeous.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “C’mon, Mel.”

“I’m serious,” she tells you as she tucks a hair behind your ear. “I like you because you’re you… I tried to hate you so hard at the beginning of the year, and I just… couldn’t.”

“Oh yeah?” you ask her.

“Nope. From the moment I found out you were the one that changed my lock and fixed my door,” she admits.

Your eyes widen slightly at that confession. “You knew?”

“I thanked Mr. J that day, and he told me it wasn’t him,” she shrugs. “That he saw you come in early with a bag from Home Depot. I put two and two together.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you laugh. “You could’ve told me you knew.”

“There was never a right time for it,” she chuckles. “But I figure now is the right time to say thank you the way I wanted to then.” She kisses you again.

That night, the two of you talk over how you’re going to continue on with this little… situation you’ve found yourselves in. You’ll take it slow. You bid her a goodbye with a lingering kiss before climbing into your car and heading back to your house.

Sleep washes over you easily that night, content with what had just happened at Melissa’s.

The next day continues on as it normally does, although when no one is around in the corner that your classrooms are in, the redhead will sneak into your room and kiss you passionately. She’s found that she quite likes kissing you, and you don’t mind one bit. She hasn’t heard any news from her guy, and you feel like you’re in the clear. They won’t find you out.

But come the following day, as you’re sitting in the break room with Janine, Gregory, Jacob, and Barbara, the redhead comes storming in.

“You!” she points a finger at you. In her other hand is a stack of papers.

You practically jump out of your skin when you hear her booming voice. “Me?” you whisper.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us who you really were?!”

“Melissa,” Barbara furrows her brows. “It is too early for this.”

“No, I think now’s a great time for this. When the hell were you gonna tell us that you were the donor?! When were you gonna tell us that your Y/N, daughter of one of the most famous day traders and one of the most prestigious lawyers in the area?!”

You turn bright red, and you can’t help the tears that spring to your eyes.

“What?” Janine gasps. “Melissa, you have to-”

“See for yourselves!” She throws the papers in her hands on one of the tables.

The rest of your friends gather around to look at the papers. There’s a screenshot of the transaction with your name, and then there are a few papers from an article that ran a couple of years ago about one of your dad’s parties and being able to secure a deal. In the image, you’re in the background drinking a glass of wine next to your mother. They all look to you with wide eyes.

“Wow,” Jacob whistles.

“When the hell were you gonna tell us?” Melissa asks you again. “You know the trouble I had to go through to get this information? How much deep diving I did once I saw your name? You coulda saved me a trip to the grocery store and hours of cooking and cleaning if you would’ve just fessed up!”

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper as you wipe at your tears and make your way out. You head back to your classroom, coffee abandoned at your seat, and lock the door. You keep it locked despite the various knocks that come and go to check on you after your quick exit.

“Melissa,” Barbara tries to calm her friend down. “I know you’re frustrated that you went through all of that effort, but… Y/N was doing it out of the goodness of her heart, and she clearly didn’t want to be found out.”

“I know,” the redhead sighs once her fire has died down a bit. “I was too hard on her, wasn’t I?”

“I’d say so,” the kindergarten teacher admits.

“Shit,” she mutters. “I gotta fix this.”

You only unlock it when you know it’s time for your students to start arriving, but you don’t dare go stand at your door like you usually do. You don’t want to face Melissa- not yet. You don’t think you can. You’ve only just started to explore what could happen between the two of you, and you’ve already ruined it by not telling her who you were. You avoid her for the morning.

Come lunchtime, you don’t even bother to head into the break room. You just suppose a granola bar from the stash that you have in your room will have to suffice and hold you over until you can go home today.

You lay your head down on your desk- it’s pounding because you didn’t get to finish your caffeinated drink.

You hear her boots against the floor before you can see her. You think she’s just going to pass by your door and head into her own room, but she stops in your doorway. In her hands, she has a mug full of coffee, your lunch, and dozens of handmade cards from the students.

“Hey,” she says gently.

You don’t answer. She makes her way into the room and sets everything on your desk before she makes herself comfortable.

“Eat,” she instructs.

“Not hungry,” you shrug.

“Then at least drink the coffee I made you,” she tries. “I know you get headaches when you don’t have enough caffeine in your system.”

You shrug. She raises her eyebrows though, and you meekly reach for the cup. “Thanks."

“The kids all made you cards,” she tells you gently. “Thanking you.”

You look at them with a sad smile.

“The staff put some cards in there too.”

“That’s nice,” you say numbly.

“C’mon, hun,” she sighs as she lays a warm hand on your shoulder. “This stuff normally makes you happy.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, resigned. “But I fucked up. I didn’t tell you who I was, and now you’re mad at me, and I probably ruined whatever we have goin’ on here. I’ll pay you back for the money you spent on the food by the way.”

“No need for that,” she waves you off. “Was I pissed when I saw your name on that paper? When I realized who you actually were? Yeah. A little. But… you single-handedly saved our arts program. You organized all of the events, and then when that wasn’t enough, you donated so much that we get to keep that program for at least the next five years.”

“Yeah, for the kids,” you sigh. “It’s all for them.”

“And besides,” she chuckles quietly. “If I didn’t have to make that food, I probably wouldn’t have kissed you that night, I woulda found out who you were before tellin’ you how I felt, and then I really would’ve been pissed with you, and what we have going on here wouldn’t have happened.”

You shrug. “I ruined it though.”

“You didn’t ruin nothin’. I’m not mad anymore, and I’m sorry I was as hard on you as I was,” she promises you gently. “I still like ya. I still wanna see where this goes, if you do.”

You look up at her, glassy eyes and all. “Really?”

“Yeah, hun. If this showed me anything, it’s that you’re a really good person, and I made a really good choice fallin’ for you.”

You blink a few times in disbelief. So you didn’t ruin this. You still have Melissa in your life- she doesn’t hate you.

“Do you wanna see where this goes?”

“I do,” you say softly.

Her lips meet yours, and you only part when you hear a collective gasp from the teachers who had quietly followed Melissa down to ensure that she wasn’t going to cause any fights.

The two of you pull back, cheeks red.

“Uh, surprise?” you say nervously.

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary

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harlowhockeystick · 3 months

Text

LOVESTRUCK, WENT STRAIGHT TO MY HEAD ⎯ S. CROSBY

y/n just wants the best for her son, she thinks the program rule of no freshmen players on varsity is stupid. she just did what any mother would do...right?

coach!sidney crosby x teacher!single mom!reader

warnings: angst, smut (fingering, handjob, sex on a table), somewhat of an inappropriate relationship, single parent content, light talk of divorce, lowkey based off of "slut!" by taylor swift

word count: 4,244

a/n: look at that....i do still know how to write

The bitterness of the coffee wasn’t doing it’s job. On her third cup and it’s not even ten in the morning, Y/N waits for the next period of students to walk through her door. Taking in one of the few moments of silence she has, she refreshes the page on the sports page on the school website, itching to see her son’s name.

Carter had tryouts with the hockey team last week, he had been talking about it since the beginning of the month. He was training every day to make varsity; in leagues ever since he was ten years old every single coach and spectator could not brag enough on how much talent he had. Y/N was pressured to send him across the country, even out of the country, to go to the top hockey camps but as a single mother she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t bear to send her baby off to some strangers for a few months, and she couldn't afford to move away from family either.

But her heart dropped as she refreshed the page, pulled up this season's roster, and saw her son’s name and number on the junior varsity roster instead of varsity. She didn’t understand it, she was told by the coaches herself that he was the best kid on the ice that day. Why didn’t he make varsity?

Her questions were interrupted by students flooding into the classroom for the start of the next period. She pulled herself out of her thoughts to then teach this class period. Reluctantly though.

The final bell rang and that meant she was done for the day. Saying goodbye to her students Y/N started to gather papers and put them in the “to grade” folder to take home with her before tidying up some areas of the room. She anticipated her son’s arrival. Ever since moving up to high school he always stopped by her room at the end of the day to talk about school and help her carry things to her car.

“I didn’t make it.” Carter said as a greeting when he walked in the empty room. His face was defeated, his tall slender frame was slumped over in sadness and his eyes welling with tears. Out of all people Y/N knew and saw how hard he worked to make varsity his freshman year. He skated over fifty laps a day, worked on shots in the garage until way past dusk, he also started to lift more weights.

“Oh baby, c’mere,” Y/N pulled her much taller son in for a hug. There he broke and rested into his mother's arms like a little kid again. He softly cried before pulling away.

“I don’t get it mom, they told me i’d make it for sure, why would he tell me-” “Don’t worry about it son, I will talk to the coach first thing in the morning. I promise. But for now you have to play the cards you were dealt,” Y/N consoled her son in the way moms know how. Gathering her bags she gave the heaviest one to Carter to help carry out the building. They continued chatting on the way to her car, talking about school and homework he had for the week. Carter was a special kid, he deeply cared about his grade and education. He remembers promising his mom when he was younger that if he ever got to play hockey in college that he would get his degree and not go to the draft early.

Carter was a momma’s boy through and through. His dad lived an hour away so he spent the weekends there twice a month, but he’s at his mom’s house the rest of the time. Carter is also protective of his mom too. He never told her this, but he’s beat in a couple boys’ faces because they made some lewd comments about her. He’s respectful of her, more than any other man on earth ever has been. Y/N is very proud of how she’s raised her son.

“Okay son, go to practice. Have a positive attitude, don’t do anything stupid okay? I know you’re frustrated but just go into practice and do you, maybe they got you mixed up with someone else. But-” she saw his facial expressions change and get tense, she knew that he was still angry inside, “hey, don’t get mad at them. Wait until I talk and then you and I will figure something out.”

They walked in opposite directions, Carter to the athletic building and Y/N back to the school for one more item in her classroom. Hustling as best she can so she can get home, she runs into the person she didn’t want to speak to until in the morning. Coach Crosby.

She felt her body coil and tense up in anger at just the sight. She was supposed to wait until morning, but her tongue got the best of her.

“Coach! Hey, can I ask you a quick question?” she pulls him to the side, into an empty classroom where the teacher had left for the day.

“What’s up?” Sidney asked, sitting down on one of the wooden desks. He was wearing black joggers, a tight pullover with a school cap on. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the material of his clothing clung to his toned body. He had been out of the professional league for at least two years, but he still kept up the physical shape of his body, and it was obvious by the way his pants were stretching at the seams on his thighs.

“I really don’t want to be that parent, but can you tell me why Carter didn’t make varsity?” Sidney cocks his head to the side. He’s only been on sight three months and he’s already dealing with this.

“Well, it’s my understanding that freshmen must be on the JV team, no matter how good they are. That rule was put in place before I got here.” He explained while crossing his arms over his chest, his muscles making his pullover look incredibly small on his frame. “He’s a good kid though, he’ll make great improvements this year and I'll look forward to having him on varsity next year.” Sidney said, trying to end the conversation and smooth things over.

“But…you’re the new coach. This is your program now, not someone else’s.” Y/N couldn’t really understand what he was getting at. Did he not see the potential in her son that everyone seemed to say? Did he not see the great player, the great athlete that Carter was? Maybe it was just her being a mother, and so obviously her child is the best compared to other kids. But she swore she didn’t want to be like those parents. She remembers being a kid in youth sports herself and hated parents who thought their kid should be player of the week every week. In her mind, she needed to earn player of the week because of her work ethic, not because her parents were board members.

“Right but I'm not trying to ruffle any feathers my first year. This is barely my program, I need to establish relationships before I change things here,” Y/N takes a step closer to Sidney, her hands folded in front of her.

“But you’re Sidney Crosby, who can say no to you?” God she feels horrible for doing this, she feels like…like some junior league mom whose husband has nothing between his ears. But she thinks, if she can just rile him up for a minute, startle him, then he’ll change his mind and put Carter on varsity. That’s her end goal, get her son feeling better. If that means pretending to be a horny college student again, so be it. “I mean really, they had to give you this job cause they trust you. So obviously you can do what you want, like putting my son on your varsity team.”

He sighs, looking down at his shoes. He knows what she’s doing…and he can’t believe it’s sort of working. He hasn’t had a woman flirt with him in heaven knows how long. He doesn’t even know how to respond to such a thing anymore. His life for the past almost twenty years has been nothing but hockey. Sidney’s family has been asking him for a long time when he is going to settle down with someone, but nobody ever scratched that itch quite like hockey did. But now? That he’s got a woman in front of him, a gorgeous one at that, who’s buttering him up? Maybe he’ll give in…just to see what it feels like.

“Your son is a hell of a player, Y/N. He really could go far,” His words got heavier as she got closer, he could smell her perfume, he could feel her breath, he could see her chest move up and down with every huff she took- “so put him on your team, Coach.” she put her hand on his chest softly and she sighed feeling his stern muscles. “C’mon, what’s it gonna take? Dinner and a show?”

His eyes, dark and blown, looked into hers and if he remembers what the term eye fucking means then that’s exactly what they were doing. His breaths became short but heavy as she left a heavy hand on his chest. She rubbed her thumb over his cheek, trying her best to work her charm that she used to have. She hopes she’s still got it.

He thinks, thinks, and thinks. This is a bad decision.

“My place, six thirty tomorrow evening. Give me your best sales pitch, and we’ll see about the show.”

Sidney stands up and for a brief second his nose bumps hers, an innocent touch but it makes him take a deep breath in to calm himself down. He exits the empty class room and takes long strides to get to practice, glancing at his watch he’s already a few minutes behind.

She’s eternally grateful that Carter is with his dad this weekend. How could she explain to him that she’s not really going on a date…but she’s going to his coach's house with plans to seduce him..but again it’s not a date. Of course, she’d have to leave out the seducing part. She put on her best dress that she had, it was pretty simple but it hugged her figure nicely. She made sure to spritz some extra perfume on as well.

The drive to Sidney’s house is silent, it’s her having fake conversations in her head about what to say or what not to say. Debating on if her seduction speech was still on date or if it’s too cheesy now. She suddenly feels like she lives in the lowest tax bracket possible when entering his neighborhood; she's never seen so many fake lawns before. She’s actually never been on this side of town much, except to look at christmas lights when Carter was younger. Now that he’s older he doesn’t care for that stuff anymore.

“Nice place you’ve got,” she said walking into his entry way. To her surprise Sidney dressed up a little bit, wearing a button up with a nice pair of slacks, the top two buttons undone for visual purposes of course. He takes her coat and her purse, hanging it up by the door. “What’s on the menu?”

“Well, I figured I'd go simple with just spaghetti and toast, with dessert to follow if that’s okay.” Sidney went into his pantry and pulled out a bottle of red wine. “This okay?” He holds the bottle in the air and she nods her head, sitting at his kitchen bar watching him pour a glass. She takes a glance at the label and she’s taken back. On her teacher salary she definitely can’t afford that brand.

Maybe she’s in over her head here- she didn’t think about any of this stuff. Suddenly she’s this woman who doesn’t have much to her name, sitting in a millionaire’s kitchen drinking wine that costs well over two hundred dollars- but damn if it doesn’t taste good.

They make small talk before heading into the dining room where he sets dinner onto the table for her, such a gentleman. Continuing the semi dull conversation she thanks him for making a meal for her, joking that she’s never had a man make dinner for her. Only half true, her dad growing up would make dinners for her family. But when she married Carter’s dad, she was the chef in the family. Not that she was complaining, it was just odd for her to be on the reverse side for the first time in a while.

“I am sorry about that idiotic rule, Y/N. Carter can easily be a varsity player.” Sidney broke the minute silence after finishing off his second glass of wine that night. She huffs, finishing her plate and scooting it away from her on the table. Was she really about to do this?

“Is there anything I can do, sidney? C’mon my boy’s in shambles, he’s thinking that he’s not as good as everyone makes him out to be,” Y/N reaches her hand out to rest on his softly. “Is there anything I can do?”

Y/N hoped he knew what she was implying and that she didn’t have to say it out loud.

And he did.

He understood every word she said and the words that were left unsaid. He knew what she was implying and he knew what she was getting at. But Sidney hated that he was willing to do what she wanted. Y/N was leaning forward on the table, getting close enough to Sidney where he could smell her perfume and her lotion mixed together, he could see a couple small freckles up close as he couldn’t see them from a bit further away.

There were no words exchanged between them, his eyes kept drifting from her tinted lips to her lustful eyes, back and forth a couple times before resting his hand on her cheek and pressing his lips against hers gently. Immediately he felt a rush of arousal- it’s just a kiss, really? He silently asked himself. He hadn’t gotten this aroused in a while, a long while.

Both parties leaned into the kiss, wanting and aching for more. They tasted wine on each other and felt each other’s temperature begin to rise. Sidney got out of his chair, lips still connected to hers, and got closer. She stood up, one hand cupping his chin and the other resting on his chest, and she leaned against the dining table. She hadn’t made out with someone in years, she hopes she’s doing it right.

She gets pushed onto the table just by the force of his body so now she’s sitting on the wooden table, Sidney standing in between her legs with both of his hands cupping her face. He doesn’t care if he seems desperate or if he seems needy, or if this is totally wrong and against almost all of the words he signed in his contract, he can’t seem to get enough of her. Sidney feels her play with the buttons of his shirt and how she begins to pull the shirt up and out of his dress pants. It was easy since he wasn’t wearing a belt.

He didn’t even know that she completely unbuttoned his shirt until he felt her hands roam all over his naked chest, her hands slowly raking up and down his toned muscles. He takes a breath and scans her body. Her skin is hot to the touch, her eyes are completely blown now and her lips are parted. “How do I get this off you?” he asked, taking a fist of the hem of her dress.

“There's a tie in the back,” she huffed out, not able to take her hands off his body. Plus, she wants him to take it off of her.

“You tied this yourself?” he asked in shock, surprised at how she tied such a perfect bow on her back with such thin strings.

“I’ve been tying, zipping, buttoning my dresses myself for the past twelve years now, safe to say I got pretty good at it.” God- has she been alone for the past twelve years? Nobody to love on, kiss on, touch on this wonderful body of hers? Sidney takes in a sharp breath when he pulls the dress off of her and he gives her body a quick scan over. Wearing a strapless bra that she’s almost spilling out of, she has on silk leopard print panties that he can’t help but notice a significant damp spot on.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, hands roaming over her soft skin. “Don’t make fun of me, it’s been a long time since I've hooked up with someone.” because that’s just what this is, a hookup. Nothing more, nothing less.

“I haven’t since I got divorced, so it's the same here.” she hooks her leg around his pulling him closer. He pressed his lips against hers again this time most softly. His hand goes down to play with the hem of her panties, “you sure about this?”

“Very sure, don’t mess with a pissed off mama sidney.” she pulls him down with her as she lays down on the table. He kisses down her body, she arches her back and lets him take her bra off. Tossing it onto the floor Sidney wraps his lips around one of her hardened nipples. She lets out a heavenly sounding moan at the action.

It’s been so long she could cum just from Sidney doing this for a couple minutes longer. One hand slips down over her clothed cunt, rubbing her sensitive and wet area. She arches her body into his, already she’s lost in a great euphoric high that she can’t even mumble words. All that’s coming out is moans and gasps.

He removes his mouth and Sidney stands up, she watches up on her elbows as he takes his pants off and removes his boxers. She bites her lip at the size - the sight - of his hardened dick in his hand. She reaches out for it herself, “you’ll give me what I want, and I promise you won’t regret it.” he thought for a moment too long, she began to doubt herself but he spoke up, “deal.”

She licks her hand before taking a grip on his cock. Slowly she starts stroking up and down, keeping harsh eye contact with sidney. She gives him a nice squeeze and a twist of her hand which makes him throw his head back in pleasure. He can only do so much with his hand, it’s nice to have someone else for a change. Y/N scoots closer to him on the table, with one of his hands he works his hand over one of her breasts softly massaging it. She leans into his touch and continues to work her hands over his hard cock.

He moves his hand from her breast down and slips it into her soaked panties. At first his fingers were a little cold but they quickly warmed up after being immersed in her sex. He circles around her clit a couple times, getting familiar with the female body again. He explores for a minute or two, his middle finger teasing her hole. The more he teases her the harder her grip gets on his cock. He pulls his hand out of her panties, they’ve never broken eye contact this whole time and he sucks everything off of his hand. God that was hot.

Sidney removes her hand from his cock fearing if she kept going he would cum all over her hand and that wasn’t what he wanted to do. He’s panting heavy now, his body forming sweat on his forehead. He pushes her down onto the table with a palm on her chest lining his cock up with her entrance, “wait do I need any-”

She chuckles, “that ship sailed a while ago, just fuck me like you mean it coach.”

With her permission she slides in and she lets out a long, loud, moan as he does it. He wants to hear that on repeat for the rest of his life, he swears. Sidney puts both hands on her hips, keeping her body steady as he rocks in and out of her, his hips meeting her every time.

Sidney allows to feel himself in her warm, wet walls. He throws his head back in pleasure and she shuts her eyes tight. Her hands come up to her breasts to add to the pleasure, fingers pinching both of her nipples as she feels his huge cock pump in and out of her small hole. He feels like he’s three feet deep inside of her, he feels lost in how good she feels. His head grows foggy each time he squeezes her.

Sidney hits the spongy spot in her tight cunt that made her gasp out in pleasure, she sang his name like a chant over and over which made him fuck her harder and harder. She warned him about her orgasm and he did the same, begging her to cum with him. A few more pumps of his cock he spilled his heavy load inside of her and she moaned loudly like a queen when he did. He pulled his cock out of her, watching his load spill out with it.

Maybe it was the post orgasm haze she was in, maybe it was the lovestruck feeling she had the minute they began making out, but minutes later she’s standing between him and the cold shower wall. His forehead pressed against hers. His fingers knuckle deep in her cunt and a hand wrapped around her throat as hot water rained down on either of them, her cunt squeezing his thick fingers while she couldn’t even say anything but his name. That’s exactly what he wanted.

The hot shower water kept her eyes shut but she knew that he was gazing at her. He was in awe of her facial expressions, how she bit her lip through a smile with every jerk he made with his hand, when she furrowed her eyebrows when she was on the edge of cumming, and how she cocked her head to the side while he kissed around her neck silently asking for more.

He took his hand away from her pussy, licking the honey off his fingers. He stayed that close to her though knowing her legs were probably jello and she wasn’t able to stand for at least a minute or two.

She took a deep breath, “got what you wanted?” she asked in a joking tone, moving her hand up and down his chest in the hot steamy shower. He chuckled, his hands never leaving her body. He palmed her breasts, he seemed to have a thing for those she contemplated, heavy lustful eyes staring into hers.

“How many more you got in you?” he asked, spreading her legs with his thigh.

“I can give you as much as you want.” Y/N answered, her hands slowly roaming down lower and lower on his chest and stomach.

“Then no, I didn’t get what I want yet.”

She woke up in Sidney’s bed the next morning with messy hair and sore muscles. Looking over on the nightstand the clock read 8:02 AM. She was glad that it was a Saturday and she was able to sleep in. She saw that Sidney was still asleep, he laid on his stomach with his head facing the other way. Looking over his back, studying the freckles, the faded scars. Y/N wants to stay in this moment for as long as she can.

She hates to admit but she really fell for Sidney. Not because of how skilled he was in bed, or because he could do wicked things with his hands, but she shared a few heartfelt conversations with him before tryouts even began.

He cared for the kids at school, the kids he taught and the kids he coached. He had a heart for the coming generation. He wanted them to have someone in their corner, and some kids don’t have that at home and he wants to be that. She got lovestruck in the past few months, sure she never planned on sleeping with him, she felt young again with how big of a crush she had. It went straight to her head, it all moved so fast.

God if her mother were still here she could just hear the word “slut!” come out of her mouth if her mom found out what happened. But she wouldn’t care. She enjoyed it, and she was sure Sidney enjoyed it too.

But still, she can’t help but think to herself what did I just do?

Sidney turns his head and sees that she’s also awake. Raising up he sees the time, 8:10. He doesn’t even care that he missed his morning workout session an hour late. He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer to him, tucking his head in her neck. With dry lips Sidney placed a tender lingering kiss on her hot skin.

It might be worth it for once, she thinks.

feedback | masterlist | au tag

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#j's writing #sidney crosby #coach!sidney #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl writing #nhl smut #sidney crosby smut #nhl x you #smut #drabble #blurb

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creamhoodie · 3 months

Text

Hot Kettle

synopsis: "Reader is a new teacher at Jujutsu High school. She and Gojo have mutual feelings for each other but she at first thinks he is a player and avoids him. After being snowed in and spending time with each other, they learn more about each other.

A/N:Not sure how I feel about this but I've been working on it for weeks and have writer's block when trying to write anything else.

tags/warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, fluff, afab reader. Switching perspectives between Gojo & Reader. Flashback scenes written in italics. Other jjk characters mentioned.

word count: 8.2K

Snow flurries fell on the campus of Tokyo Jujutsu High and the ground had frozen into crystals.

You had only been working as a professor here for four months and it was your first winter here.

Principal Yaga had sent out an email saying that classes were canceled. Of course the students rejoiced, but for faculty members snow days meant faculty meetings.

You made your way to the designated meeting spot now, your snow boots clicking along the ice as you made your way into the building.

Upon arrival, you found the room empty. Strange. Surely this had been the designated meeting room as stated in Principle Yaga’s email.

Perhaps you were early? You had a tendency to arrive notoriously early for meetings and events. No matter, it gave you enough time to pop into the lounge room and heat up your ramen as a substitute for the breakfast you had skipped in order to arrive on time.

You made your way into the lounge room that was only two doors over. It was also empty, but that was expected given the ghostlike fashion of the building besides your presence. You placed your tote bag down on the table and took out your heatable ramen. Fortunately you had packed a plastic fork.

That meant the only thing you needed was water. The kettle was out already, strange but there was nothing suspicious about this given that and the toaster were often left out after use and not put away into their assigned cabinets.

You went to grab it and as you did let out a blood curdling shriek as the white hot pain in your palm and fingers signified it had recently been used.

“Are you okay?”

“Oh my god we’re sorry Professor!”

“What do you mean we? I told you to put it away!”

As your eyes opened, having winced them from the pain, your eyes focused to find three of the students: Megumi fushiguro, Yuiji Itadori, and Nobara Kugisaki.

They were all staring at you with concern and from the mugs they were holding in their hands and their words you pieced together that they were the culprits.

You didn’t have a chance to respond however as footsteps came running over and to add more insult to injury, your fellow faculty members were peering in: Principale Yaga, Mei-Mei, Kento Nanami, and of course dreadfully… Satoru Gojo.

You felt his eyes watching you underneath his blind fold.

“What happened?” He asked, his voice sounded unusually harsh.

“We wanted to make hot chocolate and we were in a rush because afterwards we were gonna have a snowball fight using our techniques. I guess we didn’t put the kettle away properly and the Professor here got burnt,” Yuji explained for the group.

His explanation did nothing to dissuade Gojo however.

“And how many times have we told everyone to put the kettle away properly so that this doesn’t happen?”

By this point, all eyes were on Gojo. He was sounding so stern and angry, nothing like himself. He was usually the most carefree of the adults.

“Gojo, it’s okay. They didn’t mean to, I should have been more careful,” you said.

“No it’s not okay,” Gojo said, going up to you now, his thumb wiping away a tear you hadn’t even realized had been shed from the pain.

Now your face was flushing and you were glad that the onlookers would just take it as embarrassment from the situation not knowing that there was more at play here, that there was history between you and the blind folded man which added to your embarrassment.

“That’s enough. Gojo, would you escort her to Shoko please? She should still be in her office since she hadn’t met with us yet for the meeting,” Principal Yaga said.

“Can Nanami escort me instead please?” you asked.

You didn’t want to be alone with Gojo, it would only make things more awkward, no right now you needed to be with anyone but him.

“That’s fine with me, I’ll go with you,” Nanami said, ever the gentleman.

You gave an apologetic smile to the students as you followed Nanami.

“Oh and Nanami? Relay to Shoko that the meeting is canceled. I’m sure given the morning’s events and the weather that’s the last night anyone wants to do,” Principal Yaga said.

You felt several eyes watching you as you followed your tan suited escort, but only one pair of those eyes mattered, pairs that you had actively been trying to avoid.

The thing you enjoyed about Kento Nanami was that he didn’t pry, meaning he wasn’t one to ask invasive questions.

While others may have asked about Gojo and why he had reacted the way he had, Nanami had only assured you he’d get you there safely and that Shoko has healed far worse.

He had a calm presence and demeanor, the type that set you completely at ease. That is why though you had only been here a short while he was your favorite coworker.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your morning,” you felt the need to apologize to him all the same.

“It’s no matter. I’m sure you didn’t want to be burnt this morning, but life is full of things we can’t anticipate,” he replied kindly.

You followed him to a part of the school you hadn’t been before. Luckily you've had the fortune of not having to visit Shoko for healing purposes until now. In a way it was embarrassing as you were sure Nanami had been here for much for dire wounds, battle wounds really from his missions since he was a grade 1 sorcerer. But Nanami didn’t judge, he wasn’t the type to goad or say hurtful things.

After what felt like forever due to the burning sensation in your hand, you two at last arrived in a wing of the school that seemed more like a hospital with its medical items laid out and its fluorescent light. A figure with long brown hair was slumped in a swivel chair in front of a computer.

“Shoko?” Nanami asked, shaking her shoulder slightly so she’d wake up.

Her eyes fluttered open and as if she could sense it she seemed to know there was a problem.

“What is it? Who needs to be healed?” She asked, but she answered her question upon looking at your tear stained face.

She stood up and took your hand. Her gaze shifted between you and Nanami, clearly questioning.

“The kids left the hot kettle out and she got burnt,” he explained.

“Ahh,” she said in understanding.

Your face flushed even more. It was so embarrassing. But Shoko was focused on healing you now and her mind had gone into the place only she and few others knew.

You watched as she worked her magic. You had heard others speak about it in awe but having never witnessed it yourself, it was amazing to see. Your palm and fingers once jaded red were now returned to their baby soft pink, they seemed even more soft than before as if you had just been reborn. Most importantly, there was no pain. Matter of fact if it wasn’t for your current location and Nanami at your side, you would have almost thought you dreamt the whole thing.

“Better?” Shoko asked, her eyes were dim and jaded and you remembered thinking how she always looked sad.

It had always been strange to you how someone with an ability capable of performing miracles could be so sad but you chalked it up to the fact that healing wounds lost its charm when it was those close to you on the brink of life and death.

“Thank you,” you said as she slumped back into her previous position.

Nanami filled her in on the meeting’s cancellation as she took out a cigarette and lit it.

The first time you had met Satoru Gojo was in one of the faculty meetings that he had hosted at his place. It was your first faculty meeting in fact, and it had been hosted on your third week at the job.

By then you had met all the others, besides him.

You had been filled in on the details about him from students to faculty alike and had gathered a mosaic of him from their words: the strongest, childish, intelligent,

Those were all adjectives that had been used to describe him.

However, nothing had prepared you for when he had asked for you to stay behind once the meeting had been dismissed and everyone else had left.

“You’re new. We haven’t been properly introduced,” he said to you then outstretched his big hand for you to shake.

“I don’t really think you need an introduction. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you said, noticing how he still held your hand in his own despite the shake being far from over.

“And what is it you’ve heard?” He asked in a teasing fashion, his lips curled up at the ends.

“Only that you're the strongest sorcerer, Nanami said you’re childish, the students like you a lot,” you paused.

“What is it?” He probed.

“I’ve been told you have these eyes that are so vividly blue,” you said, not being able to hide your curiosity.

He chuckled in understanding.

“You want to see them? You can take my blindfold off,” he said.

At last he released your hand so you were able to do so. You had to stand on your tippy toes and he had bent down to help you as you flipped up the blindfold so it was resting on his forehead.

You had gasped at the mesmerizing blue that was like no other.

“Like them?” he teased.

His words had sent a jolt of heat in somewhere you were sure was not appropriate.

“They are beautiful,” you had found yourself whispering.

After that encounter, you and Gojo had experienced various flirtatious exchanges. The two of you had only gotten physical once and it had been unexpected.

You had been cleaning up your classroom, the students having long been dismissed when he had come in.

“Still here?” He teased.

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said offhandedly ignoring how his presence next to you, heat radiating off his body was making you nervous. You finished wiping off the chalk board and looked up at him.

“Lonely at home?” he continued to tease.

“No,” you said a little too defensively before adding, “I just like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.”

It was true, you had shared it with him in one of your lounge room talks where he had asked you about your background. You were a foreigner that had cursed energy and had taught at a non sorcery university in your home country. Having heard of Jujutsu High and being introduced to Principal Yaga through a mutual connection, the principal had then invited you to come teach at Jujutsu High.

“That’s right, I’m sorry,” he said, tugging at a strand of your hair.

“Why are you still here anyways?” you asked, turning the question back on him.

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he answered honestly.

“Me?” you asked dumbfounded.

He chuckled, stepping forward.

“How long are we gonna do this dance, princess?” he asked, calling you the nickname he had coined for you.

“What dance?” you asked.

But you knew, of course you knew. All those flirty exchanges, light touches, teasing, and lounge room talks weren’t for anything.

“That we don’t want each other,” he said simply.

“And who says I want you?” you asked defensive again. Okay maybe you did want him, but he didn’t have to be so arrogant about it.

“Hmm. Well what was it you said about my eyes again? ‘They are so beautiful.’ “

You flushed in anger and embarrassment now and tried to push past him, but he held onto you effortlessly by your shoulders. You were pinned against the chalkboard.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours and your body instantly relaxed, you felt him smile at that.

He was right of course, even if he had gone about it in the way he had, there was no denying the sexual tension and chemistry between the two of you.

Giving yourself over to it now, you moaned as his lips moved to your neck, teething slightly at the skin.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he groaned into your skin.

Your hands went to his hair, fisting the soft white locks.

Nothing else seemed to exist besides you and him.

“Gojo,” you whined wrapping your legs around his waist and he seemed to know exactly what you needed as he hoisted you up easily and placed you on your desk, notebooks clattering on the floor.

“Fuck,” he cursed as your long skirt spilled around your thighs revealing your silky skin and damp underwear.

You bit your lip as his fingers found your clit. You felt like you were in heaven and his name had spilled from your lips over and over again like a prayer.

Satoru Gojo…

Of course you had wanted him who wouldn’t? He was impossibly handsome, he had truly won the genetic lottery in more ways than one, and he was so gifted with his fingers that were making you reach new heights even you hadn’t taken yourself to.

That line of thinking created a problem brewing in your mind: Everyone wanted him.

So what made you different? You were the new girl on the block, and you didn’t know him all that well despite your talks with him. You didn’t know him all that long. Maybe you had been overthinking, but it was that thinking that had taken you out of the mood.

“Gojo stop,” you choked out.

His movements stilled, hearing the tone in your voice.

“Is something wrong?” He asked.

You couldn’t exactly tell him your worries as you didn’t want to make things awkward. Besides what were you supposed to say? ‘I’m worried I’m just another one of your quick hook ups?’ You didn’t want to be clingy or weird especially if he just saw this as a casual encounter.

“No, no, everything is fine. I just should be going now it’s getting late,” you rambled straightening yourself up and standing up from the desk.

You had been grateful you hadn’t seen his eyes as you were sure they were confused.

“Well can I walk you to your car?” he offered.

“No, that’s not necessary but thank you for your concern,” you had stated.

Then you had rushed off.

Your relationship with Gojo has been rocky ever since. You actively avoided him and he started doing the same. In a way you wondered if you had bruised his ego since he had never been used to rejection.

Having assured Nanami you would be fine, you had driven yourself home. There was no reason for you to stay on campus given the meeting’s cancellation and the snow day. Moreover, you weren’t up to sticking around because of the morning’s embarrassing events.

You made your way into your small apartment, and kicked your shoes off.’

When you were about to settle down on your couch and watch some television, the doorbell rang. Perhaps it was Nanami doing a possible checkup on Principal Yaga’s orders?

You opened the door and found the person you were actively avoiding: Satoru Gojo.

“You forgot this,” he said, holding up your tote bag that you had left behind in the lounge room.

“Oh, thank you,” you replied, still stunned. You stood there frozen for too long until he cleared his throat.

“It’s kind of cold out here, you know snow day and all,” he said, shivering with emphasis.

Even though it was the last thing you wanted to do, you invited him in.

“Make yourself comfortable. Do you want anything?” you asked, closing the door behind him and watching as he looked around your living room.

“No, I’m good. I can make you those noodles you wanted earlier though,” he offered.

The noodles? Oh yes, the ramen pack. You had forgotten about them. It was endearing in a way that he had even remembered them.

Before you could answer, he was picking the plastic bowl out of your purse and heading towards the kitchen.

“That’s not really necessary..” you began to protest as you followed him but he cut you off.

“Have you eaten today?”

Your stomach betrayed you, giving a rumble by way of answer.

He chuckled before saying, “thought so.” You watched as he filled one of the pots with water before placing it on your stove and turning it on. The kettle would have been much more straightforward but given the morning’s events you figured he didn’t want to use it. Once the water heated up enough, it didn’t take too long on account of you having a gas stove, he transferred the dry noodles from their plastic bowl container to the pot.

Watching him in this domestic setting did something to you. Though you couldn’t see his eyes, his face was calm and focused.

“Watching me?” he teased.

Your face blushed scarlet.

“You know it’s not really fair that you wear that blindfold around,” you said. After all, it gave him the advantage of being able to catch you gawking at him. You suspected this wasn’t the first time he had noticed.

“Would you like me to take it off?” He asked innocently.

Remembering your only other exchange with him that involved his unsheathed eyes, you opted against shaking your head then adding a firm “no” in case his eyes weren’t on you for once.

All the same, you continued to stand there leaning alongside the counter watching him as he had now taken to stirring the boiling noodles with a fork. After a few minutes of this, he transferred the now ready noodles into one of your bowls.

“Do you prefer your noodles with broth or drained?” He asked.

“Drained,” you replied,

“Me too. I find that too much liquid laps up the flavor,” he said, going to drain it now in your sink. He then added the flavor, stirring it. When it was at last ready, he set it on your kitchen island, beckoning you to come sit.

Hunger winning out, you did as he had instructed, not even bothering to care that he sat in the seat next to you.

The noodles were good and just warm enough for you to enjoy and satisfy your hunger. You eagerly stuffed your face forgetting for a moment the man at your side.

It was only when you finished eating that he at last spoke up.

“I wanna talk to you about what happened between us,” he said.

Of course you had expected this, but it didn’t make it anymore easy to breach this topic.

“What is there to talk about?” you asked, deciding to play dumb.

“The kiss we shared,” he said, turning his body towards you.

He knew damn well it had been more than a simple kiss. If you hadn’t put the brakes on when you had maybe the two of you would have gone all the way in the classroom!

“I don’t see why we have to discuss it. We kissed, so what? We can move on from it,” you said.

“But that’s the thing. I can’t move on. I think about it all the time,” he said. There was a unique yearning in his voice, a tone you had never heard from before. At last you turned to face him as well and though his eyes were still hidden there was an expression of sadness on his face.

“Well I’m sure you kiss people all the time,” you said. In an effort to put some space between the two of you, you stood up and walked away from the kitchen back into the living room, hoping he’d follow so you could direct him to the door.

“That’s it then? You think I just kiss anyone?” he asked, following you as you had anticipated. His long legs allowed him to catch up to you quickly and he caught your wrist, swiveling you around to face him. “Don’t ignore me. You feel something for me too, I know it.”

His proximity to you had your breath hitching, it had been a while since you had been this close.

“Gojo-“ you began to protest.

“Satoru,” he corrected, wanting things to be less formal.

“Maybe you should get going,” you said but your voice wasn’t as convincing as you’d hoped.

“You’d really throw me out in the snow like that?” he teased.

“You’d be fine,” you retorted.

By now your resistance was waning, despite your better judgment, the scent of his cologne and the feel of his warm body was threatening your resolve.

He seemed to know that all too well.

“Let me kiss you again. I’ve missed your lips,” he whispered.

Your knees buckled a little.

He bent down, lips brushing against your jawline, the scent of him intoxicating.

It was futile, you wanted him desperately and he knew that. So when you didn’t push him away his lips lingered merely inches from yours, his minty breath in your face, leaving the option to you.

Giving into your urges, you had only to bend forward, and once you did his lips were on yours. Like before, the passion between the two of you was intense, even more so given the built up frustration from how you had avoided him then.

His tongue soon found yours and your legs hoisted yourself around his waist.

“Satoru.. bedroom,” you whimpered.

He understood, still holding you as you guided him to your bedroom.

You didn’t have time to feel embarrassed about the plushies you had on your bed despite being a grown woman, as he plopped you down alongside them.

“Lay back,” he commanded.

You did, but watched as he got on his knees in front of you.

“Satoru, what are you doing?” you asked, still breathless from the kisses you had exchanged.

He took his time answering you, a sly grin on his face as his hand caressed your pantyhose clothed thighs that were exposed as your skirt fell in ripples around your waist.

“I’m gonna make you feel good. The way I wanted to before you left that day,” he said. His hands went up to the top of your waist band, pulling your pantyhose down effortlessly. He gasped at his newfound discovery. “No panties? You really are so shameless.”

Your face was red.

“I- there was a line with my skirt and the tights are thick,” you stammered, feeling the need to defend your choice of wear.

“I like it. How often do you go commando under these long skirts of yours?” he probed, fully removing your tights and leaving your legs and sex naked underneath the layers of your skirt.

“Only when I wear the tights underneath,” you replied.

His hand cupped your heated sex, your arousal leaking into the palm of his hand.

“That’s right you did have some panties on in the classroom that day,” he said recalling. His fingers parted your wet folds. “You think one of these days you could just go completely commando for me? Nothing underneath? Not even your pretty little tights?”

By this point you kept feeling pangs of pain and your clit throbbing, there was no denying the effect he had on you.

“Somehow I don’t think that would be appropriate for the classroom,” you stated.

This only seemed to encourage him more.

“It’d be fun though. Just think about it,” his hand released your sex. He seemed to have something devious in mind. He came closer to you whispering in your ear. “You and me. The fun we could have. The quickies we could partake in between classes.”

You’d be lying if you said his words weren’t appealing to you and vivid images of you hoisted against a desk and him shooting his load into you were intruding your mind.

“Satoru…” your voice had an edge to it. One that still remembered why you had put the brakes in between the two of you in the first place.

He seemed to understand.

“Oh that’s right. You think I do this with just anyone. That I’m something of a player huh?” He asked, and you were surprised to hear offense in his voice.

“I just don’t know you all that well yet,” you stammered apologetically.

You felt that it was an almost stupid thing to say given the state the two of you were in.

“Do you want to know me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you replied.

“Good, because I want to know you too,” he said. He sunk back down to his previous position between your legs. He pulled his blindfold down, letting it rest at his neck so his crystal-like eyes were visible. “And right now, I want to know what makes you tick.”

When Principal Yaga had first told him there would be a new professor from overseas joining them, it hadn’t mattered to him greatly.

Another teacher? Well that was good. A foreigner? Interesting.

However, it hadn’t been something he had given much thought to.

So when he first met you at the faulty meeting he had hosted in his apartment, he had been surprised to find out how beautiful you were. You were also young, a little bit younger than him but still so young for someone so well accomplished (yes after your flirtatious encounter where you called his eyes beautiful he had looked you up).

He must confess, he read your academic articles all thirty of them and he was always finding an excuse to speak to you in the lounge room.

At last when he hadn’t been able to fight the longing for you anymore, he had waited until after hours, knowing you’d still be on campus.

“Still here?” He had taunted.

“I’m not in a big hurry to go home,” you said.

That was interesting to him. Surely a woman like you had someone waiting for her? It was something he had pathetically tried to find the answer to online but had fallen short given your profiles being professional in nature.

Desperate for the answer he continued to tease.

“Lonely at home?”

God, he could shoot himself in the foot for that one! How incredibly cringe. He was used to getting away with it on account of his good looks, but you were different than most. You didn’t seem to fall easily to his charm. In a way it was humanizing, you didn’t let the veil of his looks and his power get in the way of seeing him for what he was.

“No. I like being here. You may have been here for a while but I’m still trying to get established.”

As suspected, you didn’t find his comment charming, answering rather defensively.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, tugging a strand of your hair and considering it a good sign when you didn’t shoo him away.

“What are you still doing here anyways?” You asked him.

His heart was racing from how your eyes looked up at him and he was (not for the first time) grateful that his blindfold kept him shielded for surely he looked like a lovesick schoolboy.

“Because I knew you’d be here,” he said.

“Me?”

The way you asked so dumbfounded made his heart ache for you more.

Yes you, he wanted to tell you, he wanted to tell you just how completely unaware you were of the effect you can have.

Even more so when you allowed him to kiss you, he felt like he was on cloud nine. Your body had felt soft on him, it was everything he had dreamed about, everything he had allowed himself to feel despite his fragile heart being ever so cautious.

“Gojo stop,” you had said suddenly, and to his horror.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

You had only made excuses and ran off leaving his fragile heart to shatter into a million pieces.

“Fuck, Satoru- you’re so good at this,” you moaned, your back arching as you fell back against the mattress.

He tongued at your folds, lapping at your clit and your arousal as if he was dehydrated and needed it in order to live.

His fingers spread you open for him, flashing him with your inner pink, the sight nearly sending him into a frenzy.

Your hands went to his white hair, gripping the locks and using them as an anchor as his tongue continued to pleasure you.

Your moans were just as pretty as he had imagined and between that and the taste of you, he was determined to make you orgasm hard.

It didn’t take long for him to find your sweet spot. You were starting to realize that of his mouth had more uses than just teasing and your toes curled.

“This is where you’re weak, huh?” he said, sensing it from how your grip on his fingers tightened. You felt him curl his fingers up inside of you, continuing to pleasure that new unlocked spot as he leaned forward tongue still sliding down your sensitive clit.

“Mm- Satoru I’m close,” you warned.

“I know, I know,” he cooed against your skin.

Continuing that pace and motions, you felt it arising now, the tell tell signs of orgasm and the adrenaline feeling as if you were falling off a cliff. “That’s it, baby, let it go.”

And you did, coming down from your high as your fluid flooded his tongue.

You panted and watched as he lapped you clean, relishing the taste. Then, like before, a devious look rose to his crystal eyes. He came up to you, hovering gently above you, hands on the bed to steady himself.

“You should really taste yourself,” he said. Before giving you time to register what he meant, he kissed you and you moaned against his lips. The taste on his lips was sweet yet metallic and it was yours. It was so lewd, the way you enjoyed it, but again the fire of desire was burning for him so you simply indulged in the passionate makeout.

“Want help with that?” you asked, eyes pointed at the bulge in his pants as the kiss broke apart, salvia still connecting the two of you faintly.

You swore you saw him blush, but having a new found confidence, you didn’t wait for him to answer, fingers shakily undoing his pants.

“So eager,” he teased, stepping back to fully shrug the pants and his boxers off. His shirt followed after.

His cock was big, bigger than any you had been with, and the head was just as pink as his lips. A forming bud of precum was visible at the tip.”Like what you see?”

“Very much so,” you admitted. You were ready for him to sink into you, but an expression of concern overtook his face.

“I don’t have a condom,” he explained, ��I know you think I do this a lot but I don't, I don’t just have them on me.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. You weren’t exactly on any birth control right now since it had been a while since you were sexually active yourself, but you didn’t want to turn him down. Plus you were aware of where you were in your cycle so the chances of pregnancy would be slim.

“It’s fine, but I’m gonna need a morning after pill just in case,” you stated.

He seemed to perk up.

“Does that mean I can spend the night?” He asked. It never ceases to amaze you how someone of his stature could still have such a childlike demeanor.

Oh what harm could it do? You had already made it this far with him.

“Yes,” you conceded. You tried not to think about the fact that he was still technically a coworker and you intrusively wondered how the students would react if they knew the two of you were engaging in such activities.

“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty little head?” He asked.

“Nothing I just, we’re still colleagues,” you said.

He smiled and lined himself up with you, the tip of his cock fettering your entrance.

“And? Colleagues can’t blow a little steam off together every now and then?”

You gasped feeling him against your slickness, not in yet but only just, still lingering at your entrance.

“That’s not really helping your case of not doing these things with just anyone,” you said.

He laughed.

“I can assure you before you I had no need or desire to fuck a colleague,” he said.

Then at last, he began to sink into you. At first only the delicate pink tip, then an inch, then two more, until the full length was bottomed out inside of you.

“Oh, you feel so full,” you whispered more as an exclamation to yourself but he heard all the same.

For him, it has always been a fantasy to fuck you in your work clothing, as he had told you before your long skirts offered the illusion of quick access whenever at his disposal.

He began to thrust lightly, allowing himself to relish all your warm walls.

“So sexy,” he praised as his pace began to quicken. Your eyes rolled back in pleasure and you could feel his pulse beating away inside of you.

It felt natural being under him like this, almost right as if you were meant to be underneath him like this taking every inch of his impressive rod.

Although you were no stranger to sex at your age, his thrusting made you feel something you never had before.

“Fuck me back, you’re a big girl aren’t you?” he teased, his mind probably following your line of thinking.His words emboldened you, and your vaginal grip on his cock tightened, and you began to thrust your hips up to meet his pace.

You craned your neck a little to watch as his cock went in and out.

He caught you looking.

“So you like to watch, huh?” his voice was heated. God, he was finding out so much about you. You were just as dirty as him, even if you were usually so well composed.

“Satoru!” you yelped as he easily lifted you up, bodies still connected and dragged you to the restroom.

“Oh this is perfect,” he whispered.

Your bathroom had a large full length mirror and another large mirror above the sinks. Here, no matter where you’d look, you’d be able to see him fucking you.

“Satoru, can I take my clothes off?” you asked, horrified at the idea of your work clothes getting soiled.

“I have no objection to that,” he said. He placed you against the countertop, and undid your blouse removing it and your bra.

Then came your skirt.

Regrettably, for this he had to slide out of you, but it only took a moment.

“Face the mirror I want you to be able to watch,” he said.

You did, gripping the counter as he slid into you from the back.

This all felt so surreal.

Had it only been just this morning that you had burnt yourself? You had still been avoiding him then, now he had you bent over in your own bathroom as he thrusted in and out of your vagina raw from behind.

You supposed this was what fucking a colleague entailed, it was much more chaotic than in the movies.

Your eyes caught sight of his face, red and sweaty, eyes closed and turning your head to your side, you saw his length going in and out of you from the reflection in the full length mirror.

His fingers kneaded the flesh of your ass, and you threw your ass back against him, cheeks enveloping his cock.

“Fuck,” he cursed.

Your shared moans echoed in the bathroom’s acoustics and it only set him off more. His pace quickened and his hands reached around to cup your breasts, squeezing the sensitive nipples.

You turned your head and your lips found his, all the while his thrusting and you grinding your ass back against him were bringing you both closer to reaching your peak.

“Satoru-“ you warned, but he seemed to understand.

“I know, I know. I’m cumming too,” he panted.

Breathing heavily, you felt him shoot his load into you as you came on him, fluids dripping to the floor.

He gave a shaky laugh.

“Erm- I can clean this up. Don’t worry about it. You should go lay down,” he said after using your hand towel to clean in between your legs.

Mumbling in agreement, you went back to your room.

Heart beating fast you tried to reconcile with the fact that you just had sex with a colleague and moreover you had agreed for him to stay the night. It wasn’t that you regretted it, Gojo was many things but a bad lay wasn’t one of them.

You opened your drawer and quickly changed into a matching lounge set. You heard Gojo humming and moving around in the bathroom as he cleaned up. When he came out, he held your clothes in his hands, still naked himself. He placed your clothes on your bed before going to pick his own up and putting them back on, laughing slightly.

“What’s funny?” you asked.

“You,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. His lower half was covered once again as his boxers and pants came back on.

“What about me?” You pressed.

“You’d think after what we just did you wouldn’t be so shy still. It’s cute,” he said, pulling his top on and adjusting it so his v-line was no longer visible. He left his shoes off and when you raised your brows he said “remember I’m staying the night?”

Of course you remembered.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said, shrugging.

He let out a belly laugh.

“Why do you keep laughing at me?” you asked, growing frustrated.

His face softened as he smiled at you fondly.

“It’s just I don’t think I’ve met someone who is worse at expressing their feelings than me, it’s comforting.”

Well, he was right in that assessment so you couldn’t help as your lips twitched upwards in a smile of your own.

If today was going to be his only chance to make a good impression of you, he was going to use it to his full advantage.

“You know what I always loved to do during snow days? Build a fort and watch movies with hot chocolate.”

Luckily, you had taken his suggestion well and so he had taken it upon himself to build said fort by maneuvering your furniture and bringing your blankets and pillows over to the living room in front of the tv.

He was aware of your eyes watching him as he did so.

“What?” he asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck self consciously.

“You’re just different than I expected,” you said genuinely, your voice free of judgment.

He nodded in understanding, he was used to people having the wrong impression about him. His looks, his talents, which were given to him at birth, all of these were things that shaped how people viewed him. He couldn’t fault you for having thought the same, but it did relieve him that you seemed to be gaining a more comprehensive perspective of him now.

“I’m gonna make us hot chocolate, you’re still banned from using the kettle after this morning,” he said, making his way to the kitchen and looking through your cupboards. He found the hot chocolate packets and went through the motions of heating up the water again just as he had done for the ramen earlier.

“Speaking of this morning, you should really apologize to the kids. You were kind of stern with them,” you said, appearing at his side and leaning against the fridge.

You looked so beautiful to him in the fluorescent lighting, your lips still puffy from the kisses you had exchanged and your hair tousled. He wanted to freeze this moment and live in it. He could see himself growing old with you and sharing domestic moments such as this. Satoru you poor romantic thing, he thought to himself. He had quite a habit of being a yearner, of letting his feelings consume him.

It was his biggest flaw.

“Yes, maybe I should. Tomorrow I’ll make sure to do so,” he said.

He finished preparing the hot chocolate and carrying both mugs he said: “now would you like to choose the first movie?”

Watching movies with Gojo was peaceful. You each took turns choosing a movie. He preferred comedies and animated movies while you chose cult classics.

Strangely enough, you felt comfortable with him. His commentary every now and then throughout the movies and the way he laid close to you in the fort, with only your knees brushing past each other occasionally, made you feel like he was trying to put you at ease.

Despite the two of you having sex earlier, he didn’t make any moves to touch you again, and you felt that it was intentional with him leaving the choice up to you.

After the last movie finished, credits rolling, he turned down the volume before facing you.

“So what’s with you and Nanami?” he asked.

You could tell from his expression he was trying to seem nonchalant, but his eyes that had remained unblindfolded betrayed him, there was worry in his pretty blues.

“Nanami? Nothing. He’s just a colleague and I enjoy working with him. Why?” you asked.

“I just wondered because you chose him to accompany you to see Shoko over me,” he said. There was a long pause before he added, “you know we’re colleagues too.”

Your face flushed as you understood.

“I don’t like Nanami like that,” you mumbled, no longer able to meet his eyes. Luckily, he didn’t press you more, your answer being sufficient enough for him.

You felt him shift besides you until he was no longer on his back but facing towards you. Having had his blindfold still off you were able to notice more of his emotions he usually kept hidden. Now there was a hint of sadness in them, the same sadness you had seen on….

“Satoru, why does Shoko always look sad?” You asked.

He gave you a wry smile.

“It’s a long story and I’m sure only Shoko can speak for herself, but I can tell you about it as best as I can.”

So he did.

He told you the story of three young gifted sorcerers and their ‘blue spring,’ as he had coined the last time the three ever felt a sense of normalcy. The story involved himself, Shoko, and someone named Geto, but mainly it orbited around him and Geto. Gojo told you of the mission they had failed at, to keep a young girl named Riko alive since she was the Star Plasma Vessel. You could tell by how he spoke of it that he felt largely responsible, especially since he hadn’t rested as much as he should have.

“But that wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have possibly known about Toji and he was strategic so you’d never see him coming,” you said.

“Maybe but it’s my fault for not noticing after how Geto changed. It affected him more than me in a way because of his ability to absorb curses. All that negative energy and the way it made him feel especially after he was jaded by the fact that non sorcerers couldn’t care less about sorcerers who protect them.”

Feeling that this was the first time he had opened up about this, you turned your body to face him as well and took his hand in your own squeezing it for support.

“Maybe you didn’t notice it because he kept it to himself? You can’t fault yourself for that,” you said.

“Or maybe he didn’t tell me because of who I am, who I was born into being and my abilities. You know I’ve never known what it’s like to feel weak to feel truly powerless? Sometimes I don’t even feel human.”

You felt a twinge of guilt for having thought he was some sort of womanizer, after what he had told you, that seemed so far out from the truth. It was clear he wore his heart on his sleeve and that it was his nature but he was guarded, even felt isolated because of the magnitude of his strength.

“I don’t think that’s fully true. Maybe in terms of power and your cursed energy but what you described: regret, guilt, and loneliness. All those things are very human,” you said. He smiled at you, and it reached his eyes so you figured your words had been of some comfort to him.

“In a way Shoko probably feels more regret than I do, though I can’t be certain,” he explained to address your original question.

“How so?” you asked.

“Shoko’s ability is to heal. Curses destroy, people get hurt, and she heals. It is the same over and over and after a while you can start to wonder if there’s a point, if there is an end to the cycle.”

“Just like Geto did,” you finished for him, making the connection.

He nodded.

You laid there in silence for a while, listening to the gentle sound of his breathing.

“Why me?” you asked, finally asking the question that has been the source of your previous resistance to him.

“You’re beautiful, I thought so the moment I saw you. In truth it was after reading your published articles that I wanted to know you more. I felt like you’d understand me. You know your article analyzing Shakespeare's King Henry?”

You nodded. How could you forget? It had been a pain to publish through all the hurdles of academia.

“There was one line from the play you wrote about and it really stuck with me,” he said. He waited as if he wanted you to guess which line it was, and instinctively you knew.

“Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.”

You don’t remember falling asleep or making it to your bed but when you wake up with the warmth of the sunlight kissing your face you immediately sit up as you remember the previous day's events. Your blankets having been used for the fort were draped back around you.

A glance at your bedside tells you that Gojo had been to the store already, the morning after pill box sitting there waiting for you to take with a glass of water next to it. You go through the motions of taking it and then follow the scent of bacon and eggs to your kitchen.

Gojo is there, cooking breakfast and his blindfold is back on.

“Good morning,” he says, seeing you linger at the entrance.

“Satoru, what time is it? It’s so bright out,” you asked, going to sit at the kitchen island.

“A little past noon. Shhh don’t worry. Classes are canceled for today again so I turned your alarm off,” he said, setting a plate of food in front of you alongside a cup of orange juice.

“I don’t remember falling asleep,” you said, biting into the fat of the bacon.

He laughed.

“Yeah you went out like a light. I think it’s my fault we spent the whole day watching movies and I trauma dumped on you,” he said.

He sat down next to you with his own plate of food and orange juice.

At his words, you briefly remember strong arms carrying you to bed, lingering lips on your forehead and a gentle kiss on your skin.

“Did you sleep here last night?” you asked him remembering how he had wanted to spend the night with you.

“I did. I slept on the couch. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” he explained. You nodded, yet a part of you was worried. Would you two go back to formalities? After everything the two of you had done and shared yesterday you couldn’t phantom that possibility. Fortunately he felt the same way.

“Listen, the kids told me they are gonna have another snowball fight today before all the snow melts up. They asked me if I wanna join and I want you to come with me,” he said.

You finished eating and looked at him.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

His hand reached for yours and he interlocked the fingers with you.

“I want to be your man, if you’ll have me. I know we’re still getting to know each other but I can see myself spending forever with you,” he said, his cheeks were rosy.

“I want to be with you too. Forever is a long time,” you said.

“I know so let’s start with now and we’ll lead our way into forever,” he said.

When he leaned forward to kiss you, you didn’t deny him, savoring the taste of him and bacon grease.

#gojo satoru #gojo x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk fanfic #jjk oneshot #satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojo fluff

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luv-gukkie · 4 months

Text

★ 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐛𝐨𝐲 ★

pairing: yandere! yoongi x f. reader

genre: smut || non-idol au || yandere

summary: yoongi just can’t seem to get enough at the way you look at him; he really loves it, even if it’s a mix of fear and hatred.

word count: +4.5k

tags/warnings: ᑲᥙᥣᥣᥡіᥒg, non-con, ᥡ᥆ᥙᥒg ⍴rᥱgᥒᥲᥒᥴᥡ, sᥕᥱᥲrіᥒg, ᥲᑲ᥆r𝗍і᥆ᥒ mᥱᥒ𝗍і᥆ᥒᥱძ, reader is scared to disappoint parents, wealthy!yoongi, he’s brutally mean (which is not cool), sub! reader, dom! yoongi, blackmail, mentions of bribing/corruption in a school & police, he lowkey sadistic

notes: another little story is on the works for jungkook and yoongi, unfortunately, i don’t know when i’ll finish though :’)

༻❤︎︎ ★ ★ ❤︎︎༺

Min Yoongi was exploring his ideas, much into thought about what else he could to make you notice him even more. Every time he would torment you, he would be captured by how stunning you looked, and that was just on you wearing one of the uniforms that was required by the school.

Yoongi knew it was something that he shouldn't do to someone he loved. Despite that, he knew it was his only way to place your attention on him. He didn't really mind doing what he did, he had nothing against you. Yoongi just had a huge crush on you. And you would learn in the future of how a 'huge crush' was a complete understatement. Yet, he found it lovely when you would look around the room to see if he was there. He adored that.

You knew about him, as your bully. The guy who over the year spent his time making fun of you, and the worst thing was no one ever stopped him. His actions repeated daily. Maybe because Yoongi was the happiest person alive when you would only place the spotlight on him. Dared the others to say anything. He knew your main focus was on him as soon as you entered the school building until the moment you left. But you weren't! Not one bit of glee in your body when you knew you had five days ahead of you that would make you want to stay home because of a certain boy.

You hated him, you didn't even know what you did wrong to make him center you and torture you throughout your highschool year. But whatever you could have done, you surely regretted it.

He would constantly threaten you. Telling you threats after threats: "listen or else..." However, you began to notice that Yoongi would always repeat the same threat over and over. That if you told anyone about what he was doing, he would treat you more worse. Of course you had been petrified of asking for help from your peers or professors. You didn't want to get on his bad side even more.

But you started believing that he wouldn't even be able to stand close to you after telling an adult, that a restraining order would do the trick. So you were going to tell an adult, the adult that was responsible of the school, and you did. You had informed the principle on your situation with Yoongi and what did they do, nothing. You waited for them to assure you he wouldn't try anything. But they didn't care, and didn't even attempt to do something about the situation. You recalled calling them useless hags the next day, when you had been spotted again by Yoongi. And yet again, at his reach.

There was other options...

You were too afraid to tell your parents. You didn't know why you would be, your parents would assist you, help you overcome the obstacle of Yoongi bullying you. They would take into consideration that you could not be bullied anymore, you had finally build up the courage you needed in order for you to tell them, today. However, at the end of the day your teacher assigned you to clean the classroom after school. Just the day you really needed to go home, to prepare and relax yourself before breaking the news to your parents.

But it didn't go as plan. The teacher had to leave the classroom and told you to do some cleaning, if you wanted extra credit. And who wouldn't want extra credit, you could still have enough time to prepare yourself, plus your parents wouldn't be home until later.

What you didn't know was that Yoongi had been planning to see you after school and to surprise his lovely kitten.

Yoongi took it far, very far.

You had been cleaning up the classroom muttering some curses to your teacher when you heard the door 'bang' as it shut close. You slightly jumped at the sudden unexpected noise. Quickly turning around, you saw Yoongi, in a harsh tone you told him that the teacher was around, and if he did anything they would definitely find out. You began to pour out profanities at him, making sure to make him understand how much hate you had for him. Shouting across the room that the outcome of anything he did, would surely result in punishment.

Yoongi couldn't hold back, a smile became visible on his lips. He spoke calmly, "I have enough money from my parents to keep the school quiet. Nobody cares of your well being, the staff was easily bribed, they even accepted the first offer I had given."

You cursed at him: "fuck you." Adding that you would tell your parents and that they would take it to the police, he grinned. Your mind was racing with thoughts of how to get out of the situation, out of the classroom.

Yoongi slowly made his way to you, hoping that you would just accept the fact that you were stuck with him. But you sure were stubborn. He had been so close to having you, to only to have you run towards the other side.

You were trying your best not to get stuck between him and the walls. To approach the door.

It was a game of cat and mouse between the both of you. You were the little mouse struggling to free yourself from the claws of the wicked cat.

Finally, Yoongi gave up on being so gentle on you. He had to admit, it was cute: how you tried your very best to avoid him, at all cost. It left him with one choice, his only decision was to tackle you, so he did.

Yoongi did what he had to do.

And so did you. You definitely weren't going to let him take advantage of you. You punched him, managing to get out of his aggressive grip, only for him to yell at you with a harsh tone to come back.

Yoongi and you both knew the truth, you weren't considering to ever come back to him. You were choosing your freedom, still, even if it came with the slight prospect of getting caught by him.

Running out the door with all the desperation you had; the desire to get the hell out of the school, more importantly away from any place that Yoongi was. You raced to find anyone, your mind and heart racing: Where are all the clubs today? They were always here or the staff? Anyone?

There was still that expectation in you, that you were going to get away Yoongi. "There!" You happily annoyed, you had spotted the teacher that told you to clean the classroom, you told her everything about Yoongi in a nutshell, explaining that Yoongi was still trying to do something to you.

Something that you didn't want at all, anticipating for her to hold you and to never let go, until you were safe and sound. And at the end of the day, Yoongi would be expelled from the school, the only way to make him disappear from your life.

To never see or hear about him again.

"Found you!" a voice said from behind. You recognized it right away, of course you did, the only male that called you by that nickname. The same male that had just attacked you.

You quickly stared at the teacher, assuming she would pull you behind her and shield you from Yoongi. You indicated her to do something, gesturing your hands to her.

The tears of anxiety started rolling down your checks, you held back the choked sobs that were daring to come out any second.

She just gazed at you. You waited for her to say something. Anything. You just wanted her to aid you by fleeing you from your situation. Despite what you saw in her eyes: the condolence and remorse. What she said was unexpected, her intense gaze fell to the floor, she whispered to him, "Take her quickly because it's making me feel pity."

That was it, that was enough to break you into pieces.

Your heart ached, your emotions mixed together. You felt completely confused and fearful, the realization had hit you with an unpleasant brunt.

It was always about the money. The wealth.

The teachers followed what the student said, in this case, Yoongi was the student with money all around him, the heir to his family's businesses. Everyone listened to the commands of the rich kid—- the spoiled brat.

They were willing to turn a blind eye for Yoongi's 'ugly' demands.

You were lost in everything, mind racing with assumptions. Your eyes no longer had that gleam of hope in them, that optimism. It was long gone, no one is ever going to help you, neither are they going punish Yoongi for his actions.

Ever.

It was you against Yoongi's power, and that easily managed to get people on his side. You were certain that bribes were flooding the school, the lies that were kept in the dirt for specific reasons. Teachers ignoring stunts, like the ones Yoongi pulled on you, for their very own convenience.

You had completely forgotten of what he had told you earlier, how he had manage to keep the whole staff silent because of how he contributed to the school daily, with of course, the power and wealth he had from his family. You wished that you could've remembered, you would have made no excuse to stop running for the support from a teacher that was on his side, helping him. You should've just ran until you were out of the school, and out of his sight.

That would have definitely guaranteed your safety. Now it was just dissolved. Yoongi grabbed your sides, motioning that he was going to pick you up.

One more. Once more. One chance.

You fought against him, using all the strength that you had left. Begging the teacher to assist you, but you heard her heels click farther and farther away. Till there was nothing to hear, just his footsteps as he carried you away, back into the same direction.

Yoongi brought you to the same classroom that you had just been in. Where it all started. It was ironic that the classroom you were in had been the only class you didn't have Yoongi in. The class that made you feel secure and so sure of yourself.

Now, all you felt was horrified of what was going to become of you.

The room diffused with cries and yearns for someone to get Yoongi off you. You attempted pushing him off, but you were weak, you had used all your stability earlier. You just had to accept it. Yoongi spent that time responding back by muttering that you should 'shut the fuck up' or 'stop moving around'. It was getting on his nerves, he was an impatient man. Especially when it came to you, and dealing with your tantrum, when all he wanted was to fill you with cum.

And with his offspring.

That single thought had fractured any patience he had left. Yoongi couldn't hold it in; his hand straightened in the air as it fell down on your check with a great force. A red-hand mark was in-printed on your face. He slapped you, the action left you trembling. You were breaking down, bawling out completely, you closed your eyes lids shut.

Yoongi felt guilty, he didn't want to take these measures, like hurting you into giving him what he wanted. Exactly to how he just had. But he wanted and needed you at that moment. It was time that you learn his true intentions towards you.

Yoongi grabbed his belt and wrapped it around your hands. He sat on your legs, stopping any movement that you were doing that meant you could have a chance of escaping.

Yoongi saw his reflection on your eyes that were gleaming because of the tears that were pouring out. He had you in his arms. After every "little" debate you two had throughout the year, there you were, under him and ready for him to fuck with. Without no regrets of what he was doing. He giggled, "I've finally got you!"

In an instant your shirt was being unbuttoned by Yoongi, you wished you could swipe his disgusting smirk off his face. Was he really going to do it?

"Stay quiet, it'll be over soon."

Your shirt was grabbed roughly and thrown at a desk, it was exactly your desk. You could see your backpack, it was neatly placed on the corner of the desk, the complete opposite of how you were.

Your hair was messy, your tear-streaked face was slightly red as the batches of tears poured out, the room was overflowing with yelps that emerged from you and constant snickers from Yoongi.

Your legs were on either side of Yoongi, his body separated them so that you couldn't close them shut at all. Then you felt the slight tug at your bra, he unclasped it, and your breasts were let loose for his eyes to devour.

And soon his mouth did too.

His thumbs played with one nipple by pulling it and flicking it, while his tongue licked the other. Yoongi had managed to make you let out a slight whine, it was something you weren't used to at all therefore feeling it for the first time had made it difficult to hold back sounds.

You paid attention to the undergarment that laid on the floor as Yoongi's shirt landed right on top of your bra. His hand snuck into your skirt, "I love your little skirt", his fingers raced against the hem of skirt and soon enough his fingers were rubbing your inner thighs.

His hands were cold and it made you shiver, especially when he was taking your panties off, sliding the material off you on to your ankles and then it was finally off. Yoongi gawked at they thing he desired for a long time, there it was, right in front of him, your pussy.

Yoongi's nose came into contact with your slit, giving it a long lick as he felt the sticky essence from your pussy get on his tongue. One of his hand squished your left breast, his other hand's digits caressed your cunt. In one motion your cunt sucked his fingers in, "Look at you sucking in my fingers", you squeaked at the sudden entrance. Repeated moans left your lips as Yoongi continued ramming his digits into you, he was enjoying every second of the view.

Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled back, your mouth wide opened to release your delightful moans of his fingers plunging themselves into you, your hands gripping onto the belt he trapped your hands in, and the sounds that came where his fingers met your pussy.

And before you could cum, his digits stopped moving and removed themselves. You were groaning at the fact that you felt a tense pain that wouldn't be let loose. You had been too into focus on the release that you failed to notice Yoongi pulling off his uniform, his fingers still wet because of your cunt, leaving marks on his clothes but he didn't mind. All he cared and was anticipating to do was plunge himself deep into your cunt.

To see you moaning, whining, and panting under him, and because of him and his cock. Yoongi would love to see what his mind was visualizing, and he was going to have it. Yoongi sure was spoiled, to have you laid on the floor, your pussy practically begging him to fuck you even though you didn't dare to utter a word.

Yoongi's cock was free as his last pair of clothing was out of the way. His hands spread your legs wider to see your little pussy sulking for his cock to enter you. His hands lifted themselves off yours inner thighs and onto your bosoms. Yoongi pressed them together and held them as he lowered his head to spectate where the two of you would connect.

Yoongi's flushed tip pressing against your folds, he moved his warm head up and down, spreading your wetness on your cunt, he hoped that it would assist in pushing himself in. "I'm bigger than average s-so", he mentioned, wedging his head into your cunt. A low moan slipped out of his mouth, his eyes rested on your expression, which was a painful one. Yoongi felt more blood rush to his cock, he pushed himself forcefully into your crimson walls, "Gosh you're such a turn on!" He groaned out.

A scream ran out of your parted lips and a following cry as well. You were in discomfort, afflicted by the feeling of something inside you, parting your walls apart. All Yoongi could do was be patient and hold back until you got used to his cock filling you up.

Yoongi stayed still, glancing at your stomach which you made you curiosity spark to see what he was so focused on. It was a bulge that showed that his cock was inside of you, it could be seen easily spotted. Yoongi hand reached out, patted the spot, and then pressed down on it. You felt an ache, and shows it by the wailing and the shedding of tears, you had started to get used to it but it still distressed your walls.

A few groans or 'fucks' escaped as he started jamming his cock harder, you still weeped. However, Yoongi had hit a perfect area that resulted in you letting out a loud whimper in return. He pounded into you with his all his force, your back arched in response. The sounds and smell had pervaded the room, your moans and whines or Yoongi's grunts and low whimpers could be heard.

The pace had gotten sloppier as Yoongi was close, you on the other hand, had already cummed on his cock. All you were waiting for now was for him to finish. His cock twitching before your walls were tainted with his cum, and you milked his dick again.

Yoongi thrusted a few more times, he made sure that you weren't on anything and that his sperm was spread throughout your insides enough for it to flourish into something.

He pulled out and pumped his cock a few times before slipping his fingers in your cunt, making sure his cum wouldn't be wasted and would be well kept in your pussy. He chose to ignore the small puddle of blood on the floor, grabbing a tissue in his backpack and cleaning it up, making sure you couldn't catch the crimson red that stained the white tissue. Hiding it in his pocket.

Yoongi was your first. You didn't want to, now here he was fixing you up while you processed everything that rushed throughout your mind. Your cheeks had dried tears on them. The scenes playing over and over in your head. Yoongi had taken your virginity, the boy you hated with your guts.

It wasn't exactly him taking it that frightened you, but the fact that you didn't want it.

"I'll drop you off at your parents, okay." He gripped your hand tightly, trying to gain your attention. You were too silent for his liking, it made him upset. Were you mad at him?

He planned on dropping you off, you had no ride and probably, didn't have the ability to walk home either. And it wasn't something Yoongi would let you do anyways. Yoongi didn't say anything and didn't do anything to you in the car ride. Nonetheless, he gazed from time to time, and if you would have turned to face him, you would have seen the concern in his eyes.

Yoongi was worried for you, he knew it must have been painful for you. He just kept manipulating his mind to believe that he had to do it or he would never be with you. You would never choose to be with him, and he couldn't let that happen.

You didn't tell them, your parents, they weren't even home the moment you arrived. Your mom worked late and your father did too, they tried making so much money, in order for you to live your life and study. Something they couldn't do. So you studied and did your best in everything. From completing every assignment, getting the best grades, and having over 90s in every class. And if you failed, even in the smallest way, you felt like a burden and you were scared of failing them.

So you stayed quiet. However, you forgot to buy something very important, and that mistake would cost you: your future.

You had told the school, they did nothing. So now you felt like no one was going to believe you. Especially since Yoongi had well explained to you that he had plenty of money to keep the whole staff silent, meaning that he had all the money to bribe the police as well.

So the only thing you had left was to keep silent and live on, maybe he won't bother you anymore. He won't follow you, or touch you either. Maybe all along, that's what he wanted. Something to stick his dick in.

Wrong.

Yoongi stayed by your side even more and instead of bullying you, he would only degrade you when didn't listen to him, he wanted you to skip classes to be with him and to keep you away from your classmates. Yoongi switched his seats, he sat next to you in all the classes, whispering to you about gross things, describing things that he wanted to do to you.

A complete nightmare.

On the other hand, you had been sick for days already, throwing up contents from last nights' dinner almost every morning. The only reason that came to mind was the stomach virus that was going around school, thinking that you probably had a weaker defense from sicknesses, so you caught it longer. It was awful.

You noticed that Yoongi had been acting weird around you lately, bringing you stuff, and to proof, bears or little love notes overcrowded your locker, leaving you with predictions that something bad was going to happen.

Soon enough it did.

You were pregnant. With his child.

It didn't make sense to you why you were throwing a whole tantrum, meanwhile he was all cheerful and relaxed, happy to know about this upcoming child. You found out after he specifically told you to take the test in the middle of the night. Yoongi had sneaked into your house, by your room window, after you mentioned you're sickness during the day. Knowing that your parents were a room away, he kept silent, and the first thing you noticed was the pharmacy bag. "You didn't use birth control...did you?" Was the first thing he whispered when both of your eyes met.

A severe panic inflicted inside you, worry that piled onto you: this couldn't be happening. You couldn't be pregnant with Yoongi's child. There was still a slight possibility that it was false.

You believed you weren't, you weren't suppose to get your period until a couple more days. Therefore, you were confident about the negative sign you would face and took the test, now here you are facing the consequences. The two red visible lines showing off the truth, after eight test and multiple pair of dark red lines, it was the same reason you were throwing up in the mornings.

The worst thing was when he told you that the both of you could raise the baby together. However, what angered you the most about his behavior was how calm he was. Especially when he mentioned that you should stop your education, that he could maintain both of you with his money, to become his wife and take care of his children.

What kind of life was that? No, you couldn't, and you wouldn't. You looked for something in your life, a profession that you would love. And that your parents would too. A career that made your parents proud, finishing highschool, heading to college, and later in life, obtaining a great job!

And this child wasn't going to help. Neither was Yoongi.

There was only one solution that came to your mind. You quickly proclaimed 'an abortion', it was the only way that you could actually live the life you wanted. Even as conflicted and horrible you felt for speaking briefly about it, you couldn't help it, you didn't want to have a child at your age.

You were still so young, had so many things left to experience, to do! A life you wanted to take slow and take your time with, every single moment of it, savoring it.

Yoongi observed you at the comment you spurred out. "Tsk- you've got to be kidding me", he studied you, to see if you would apologize, and you didn't. "You're a bitch." Yoongi couldn't believe that you didn't want to carry his child, he would give his everything to have you, but you couldn't do one thing in return for him. It destructed him. "Don't lie."

His words were the usual, and yet it was enough to know that he knew you, probably even better than you knew yourself. Of course you weren't able to do the abortion, but think about it, your future would go down the drain for the life inside of you. There would be not a lot of opportunities, Yoongi had made it clear and set on you being the house wife, no more.

However, the guilt accumulated, now you couldn't even think about the decision. Killing an innocent child, was it something you could do?

"No."

Yoongi held your hands as he blurted out the same word that was in your mind, and if you couldn't do an abortion. The rest of troubles would tumble down on you, like explaining to your parents on how you were gonna give birth to a child in the span of nine months.

——shit——

The small display of affection dispersed, Yoongi's grip compressed on your wrist, forcing your teary red eyes to look at him, meanwhile his own eyes have a glint of amusement in them.

That night was left with you cuddled in Yoongi's embrace, as he whispered 'things' that would make you have brand new batches of tear coat the dried ones on your cheeks, you just wanted to sleep.

In the end, his hand reached to your stomach, patting it carefully, a small peck landed on your forehead. "I love you", he continued telling you how much he loved you and the baby, "and always will." He deliberately tried to manipulate you.

But you knew better, his words were venom to someone's ears. Now you knew better than to fall for his devious schemes.

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