#seventeen professor
Text
after the exam.
the first part. sfw suggestive. prof!mingyu. not proofread. wc 2.7k
good evening, y/n,
midterm grades were just posted, which i hope you've had the chance to look at. much to my surprise, it did not go well. the class average was just that. average. but your score in particular was lower than i had expected.
as you know, my office hours run from 3-4pm on MWF. we can review any material that might’ve challenged you. i’ll have a copy of the exam on hand if and when you come by.
i’d like to see you succeed in this course before the semester ends, and to better prepare you for any courses to follow this one.
best,
kim mingyu.
"fuck." you sighed aloud to yourself. checking your emails before going to sleep was now a decision you had come to regret.
you sat on your uncomfortable bed in your dorm, legs crossed with your laptop on your thighs. blindingly bright screen displaying text that twisted your stomach. you supposed you deserved this.
before the exam, you promised your professor that you'd "definitely" see him in his office. you mostly said so because you felt confronted, but looking back, you weren't sure why you did that.
no one's office hours worked your your schedule. your mornings throughout the week were filled with back to back lectures and the second you were done with class, you were on the bus to your part-time job at a coffee shop near your university.
you remember chan offering to study with you when you gave him your number, but you figured he also had other exams to cram for and you didn't want to get in the way.
so you studied on your own. youtube videos, practice tests, worksheets, the textbook, your notes, and your returned homework. every single symbol and number seemed to mush together on your paper.
you had seen your score when it was posted, and with all that effort, you earned yourself a 48/100. that score might've made sense if you said fuck it and chose not to try on the exam, but that wasn't what you were trying for at all, and this email in your lap told you that your professor caught onto that too.
you didn't have the guts to respond to him. it reeked of disappointment and you couldn't bear to acknowledge that. you shut your laptop and put it on your desk before going to bed.
the next morning you stood outside your calc lecture, waiting for the students inside to finish up.
"hey," you hear someone approach you. it was chan. he stands beside you against the wall of the corridor.
"hey." you can't help the smile that grows on your lips.
"so... did you check your score for the midterm?"
your shoulders drop and you roll your eyes, "wish i didn't."
"i probably got a lower score than you." he replies.
"what'd you get?" your voice reeked of doubt.
"64."
you scoff and turn away from him, arms crossed against your chest, "you're such an ass."
"what?!" he laughs, leaning closer to you when you move away, "there's no way you got less than me. i couldn't answer half of those questions."
"keep rubbing it in, chan. it feels great," you can't help but laugh at your failure, though laughing about it did cheer you up, especially with chan.
"you gonna tell me your score?" chan continues to tease you as students flood the hallways, leaving their lectures.
"never." you wince and hide your face in your hands.
"oh, come onnn. i wanna know." he nudges your shoulder with his.
you shake your head behind your hands, hiding your giddy smile and feeling the heat emitting from your cheeks on your palms. probably from the embarrassment, or maybe because you liked chan.
"class is starting, you two." you hear a stern voice ahead of you.
dropping your hands, you lift your head to see who it was.
your professor. he eyes you both through his glasses, holding his bag in hand before entering the classroom and letting the door close behind him.
when the door shuts, you're left in the silence of the now empty hallway rendered speechless as you and chan turned to each other, sharing confused expressions.
looking back through the slim window of the door, you could see your professor setting his bag down on the desk in the corner, pulling out a stack of papers.
you sigh, somehow feeling defeated. "did we do something wrong?" you whisper to chan. the first time you'd been scolded was understandable, but you weren't sure you deserved his abruptness this time.
chan looks at his phone and checks the time. "we still have 5 minutes 'til he's supposed to start class." he scoffs as puts his phone back in his pocket, "c'mon."
he walks forward and opens the door to the class. you head inside, walking between the rows of students to find your usual seat. chan takes a seat next to you while you unpack.
"morning, everyone." mingyu speaks at the front of the class, “i posted the grades to your midterm yesterday afternoon. if you haven't seen them yet, you can look in your online gradebook." moody groans and whispers cast a blanket over the students as he makes his way toward his desk, picking up a large stack of papers.
"i'll pass them back now." he begins walking around the class, calling out names, finding the student, then returning their test. “i made some notes on your work. please read them. it might help you understand any mistakes you made.”
"chan." he calls. chan raises his hand.
when he places the exam on chan's desk, you peek over at it. as expected, "64/100" was written largely in red pen on the first page. chan scooted it over to you, allowing you to look at it.
your lips straightened into a line as you picked it up, already feeling dissatisfied with yourself. you flipped through the pages to find the questions you knew you got wrong. when you analyzed his work, it all made sense. he made it seem so much simpler than you thought it was.
"y/n." you hear you professor call from behind you. turning around in your chair, you raise your hand and see him make his way over.
as he drew nearer, you felt your heart beating faster in your chest. maybe you were anxious because you stood him up last week. or maybe it was because he had been curt with you and chan. even if neither were the case, there was still one fundamental cause for your unease. you found him incredibly attractive.
he looms over your left shoulder and sets your exam down, large build positioned behind you so closely that you felt the heat of his body on your back. the warm and woodsy scent of him filling your nose and threatening an upward curl at the corner of your lips. you bite down on them and attempt to shake your head out of the gutter while focusing on your breathing.
after handing back your exam, he bends down from his upright stance, "see me after class, please."
your breathing comes to an abrupt stop as the pressure of your teeth in your bottom lip increases tenfold. his voice was smooth as velvet. speaking just above a whisper, you felt chills run down your spine as his words reached your ears. the aroma falling from him wouldn’t help either. his cologne was intoxicating at this proximity. it made you dizzy, and you felt your eyelids become heavy for a moment.
before you can even exhale to respond, he walks away and returns to the front of the class. you turn toward chan to see if he caught that, but he was sitting with eyes glued to his phone in his lap. you thought about telling him what happened until you were interrupted.
"alright. let's get started." his voice commands the attention of the room. chan puts his phone away.
you look toward your professor who begins writing on the board. everyone around you picks up their pencils and begins taking note of his work, but you were frozen.
your mind was occupied. you were looking at the board but nothing was registering. focusing on the lesson seemed impossible after hearing his voice in your ear like that. you felt terrified, flustered, and some third emotion that you couldn't quite name, though it seemed to be the strongest.
the hour long lecture carries out, and you couldn't concentrate for one second. chan noticed your pencil clutched in your hand, but the page of your notebook empty.
"y/n," he whispers.
you jolt, waking from your trance, and face him.
"are you okay?" he quietly asks.
you smile and nod, chuckling awkwardly before slowly turning your head down towards your notebook. you rest the tip of your pencil against your notebook, but write nothing as your subconscious resumed its hold on you.
you sat there for the remainder of the period with your back straight, but your eyes slightly downward towards your notebook, more than distracted with several thoughts running through your head.
what would he say? would he shame your score? would he confront you about standing him up? did he ask anyone else to stay back? would he be passive aggressive like he had been with you and chan? the questions clouded every corner of your brain.
you were awoken again by the sudden rustling of papers and backpacks zipping around you, including chan's.
"y/n, are you sure you're okay?" he asks again, "you didn't write anything down."
"oh, yeah. i just..." you stare blankly at him. he stares back with concern in his brow. "i didn't feel like it today, i guess." you blurt.
"alright," he stands and swings his bag around his shoulder, "i have to head to my next class, but i'll see you here monday?"
"yeah!" you beam, trying not to cause worry.
"later," he smiles. adjusting his bag, he then makes his way to the door.
"wait, chan!" you exclaim.
he stops and turns around quickly with a quirked brow.
"could you, um, send me a picture of your notes, please?" you ask sheepishly.
he giggles, "sure thing. i'll text you tonight." he says with a cheeky smile before leaving.
after he's gone, you sigh deeply. looking around, you notice everyone had left the class. your professor remained at the board, erasing the board clean.
you put your things away and pick up your bag, cautiously walking up to him.
as you moved closer, you could spot what your eyes always used to fall on. his body. the muscles that never failed to peek through the cotton button ups he wore. biceps flexed while he swiped the eraser across the board. back muscles engaged as the words on the board disappeared.
"y/n." he utters, still facing the board.
your eyes widen, realizing you'd been standing behind him silently for a bit. he puts the eraser down, board now clear.
"thanks for seeing me." he looks downward to meet your gaze. "i just have a few things to ask you." he walks over to his desk to lean against it, looking all too familiar to the last time you were stuck with him after lecture.
you don't move in closer, only turning on your heels to face him. "yes?" your voice emits a much higher pitched reply than you wanted.
"did you get my email last night?" he asks, folding his arms against his chest.
"i did, yes."
"and you didn't reply?" he asks soberly.
shit.
"oh. well, i m-meant to. i should've. it was just... it was really late and-"
he chuckles outwardly at you, halting your nervous blabbering before it inevitably got worse. you turn your chin away from him, confused at his behavior.
"i'm just teasing you," he huffs after his laugh, "that's actually why i wanted to see you today."
you resist rolling your eyes and instead wear a smile. "i'm sorry, professor. i did intend to reply."
"don't worry about it. although, you might be worried about other things." he looks down and raises the knuckle of his finger up to his glasses and straightens them on to sit higher on his nose bridge, "your exam." you wanted to scream when he said the words. "was that the score you wanted?"
you chuckled so you wouldn't cry, "no, sir, not at all. i-i'm not sure what happened with me." you avoid his eyes.
"an issue with you?" he tilts his head slightly. "what makes you say that?"
"i don't know," you sigh, "i guess i was just extremely unprepared for this test."
"mm," he hums. "is that the score you think you deserved?"
you furrow your brows at that. "since when are exams graded on what the student deserves?" you scoff, "i don't think that really matters..."
"i do." he quickly comments. it almost sounded like he was challenging your sentiment, but you had nothing to say in return.
"let me ask you this, y/n. did you ever plan on coming to my office hours the week before the exam? you did ask me when they were."
there it was.
it felt like he had you in the jaws of a trap. though, you expected him to mention this at some point.
"i did want to see you, professor, but your hours didn't work with my schedule." you explained rather urgently.
his eyes dart down for a moment to think, "what about the TA's?"
"his don't work for me either." you answered, nervously chewing on the inside of your cheek watching his face react to your excuses.
he sat there silently for a moment, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb, appearing in deep thought. you didn't know what to do with yourself.
"the learning assistants for calc have limited hours too. i have back to back classes in the morning and i have work in the afternoons." you offer more excuses to fill the uneasy silence.
he meets your eyes again. "when do you get off?"
"sorry?"
"of work. when do you leave work?" he doubles down on his question.
"it depends?" you reply hesitantly. "if i'm lucky, i'll be done around 5pm. but i don't usually have much luck."
"i see," he murmurs as he looks into your eyes for a moment. "one more question for you."
you perk up to make yourself open to his question.
he straightens his posture against his desk and uncrosses his arms. "if you were presented with an opportunity to get the exam score you deserve, would you take it?"
your head tilts back slightly. "o-of course," you respond. you understood what he was saying but you couldn't help the confusion his statement brought. "i just wouldn't be sure why i deserved to be offered that opportunity, i guess." you chuckle.
"so that's a yes?" he presses.
"...yes." you pause. his ambiguity made you nervous to agree.
he got off his desk and was now standing in front of you. your eyes followed his as they rose far above your line of sight. "i know you're a smart girl, y/n. you just can't access the help you need. so i'd like to offer my help."
"that's very kind of you, professor, but i can't make it to your office hours or-"
"i want to reschedule them to a time that'll work for you." he cuts you off.
your words were caught in your throat again.
"you said you get off at 5?" he continues.
"i..." his assuredness threw you off. "it depends, sir." you spoke slowly. you wanted to answer him properly but you were too confounded with his overly polite suggestion. "sometimes i leave around 7, but i have no control over when my shift ends." just thinking about it all while he was so close to you made you stressed.
"if you were able to communicate with me exactly when your shift ends, i'd be happy to work around your availability to help you with this class."
"what do you... mean?" with mingyu looming over you, it was difficult to process what he was saying. even more so because his cologne was engulfing you in its cloud yet again.
"tell me when you're done with work and i can arrange to meet with you. does that sound good?"
"y-yes, but... how will i tell you?" you mumble, eyes blinking heavier than before.
"you're no good at responding to emails, are you?" he smiles playfully, "how about i give you my number instead."
#seventeen#svt suggestive#seventeen smut#seventeen x reader#svt smut#seventeen professor#seventeen fics#seventeen mingyu#kim mingyu#mingyu x reader#mingyu hard thoughts#mingyu hard hours#svt hard hours#professor mingyu#mingyu smut#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines
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Me and my professor wonwoo agenda against this world
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EDGE OF SEVENTEEN
summary: she’s only seventeen. she’s lost her father, her brother, her best friend all in such short period of time. she has no one. no one but her world history guide teacher.
content warnings: platonic student x teacher relationship, depression, mentions of suicide, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of self harm, full on angst, suggestive—dark themes/subjects
#harry styles angst#harry styles#harry styles fan fiction#professor!harry#professor!au#harry styles professor#harry styles teacher#harry styles imagines#harry styles one shots#harry styles x kids#dad!harry blurb#dad!harry x reader#harry styles x platonic#harry styles angst imagines#harry styles fluff#harry styles concept#harry styles au#edge of seventeen
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❝ read you like a book ❞
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° synopsis
the class gets to welcome a new assistant to their professor and in return, they get to realise how well they know their professor.
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° genre & tags
fluff / professor!junhui / assistant!reader / dahlia thrives on professor!svt / a little slow burn / legal age difference!! / junhui comforting reader / slight angst for one scene
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° pairing
junhui x afab!reader
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° w.c
4.8k words
┆ ° ♡ • ➵ ✩ ◛ ° author’s note
man. i love you dude / thank you for 400 followers!! / will proofread when i get time (this line will be deleted when i do proofread it)
˚ ༘♡ ·˚꒰ now loading… enjoy! ꒱ ₊˚ˑ༄
You were certainly the member of the family that your family would gush over, claiming that you are ‘so good with children’ despite the fact you probably hated them but you definitely did better with teenagers. Perhaps it was the lack of communication you had to complete with them however it was what pushed you to work in education - specifically higher education. Not only that but you had decided to dive in Chinese history as your specialised subject, with you covering Chinese studies as a whole. It didn’t come as a surprise to you when you applied at Yonsei University and you got the specific role as an assistant to a professor of Chinese studies who of course was Chinese.
Other than his nationality and his name, you knew little about him. You’d considered googling his name on the Yonsei staff database but you didn’t want to creep anybody out before you’d even met him and besides, you would probably find out that same information just by facing the man anyway. So as your polished heels - brand new, may I add - clicked rhythmically along the university’s equally-as-polished-as-your-shoes tiled floor. There was no intention to be late nor too early, you didn’t want to seem eager just from curiosity regarding some man you’d be working for, so your steps were not hurried in any way.
It was a beautiful spring day in South Korea. The temperature was neither too hot nor to cold and it was in fact just perfect for a first day on the job. Your phone chimed in your bag and you reached in, reading a message from a close friend who’d been supporting your decision to work within education. A smile crawled onto your face, pocketing your phone back into your bag as you lifted your head to meet eyes with a male not much taller than you as you stood in your heels - that were beginning to hurt your ankles.
“Ms l/n, right?” he spoke up and instantly you could recognise this was the man you were so interested to meet, “my name is Wen Junhui.”
“Yes, that’s me,” you replied softly in Chinese and the man’s eyes widened before he grinned, his teeth glittering in the sunlight the corridor’s windows let in, “it’s nice to meet you.”
“The pleasure is mine,” Junhui mused, seemingly a lot more comfortable in his native language, “and we got beautiful weather today too - I didn’t know you speak Chinese?”
“It was a mandatory class for my Chinese studies degree and well, not to mention I studied in China so I had to learn one way or another.” You laughed, approaching him to close the distance so it didn’t feel as if you had to yell. Your gaze took in the way he wore a suit with no blazer in sight, his white button-up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows and he carried his laptop in his arms with his laptop bag hanging from his shoulder.
“That’s always nice to know, we teach all of the classes today in Korean,” he gestured with a tilt of his head for you to follow and quietly, you did, “but the final year students get their classes in Chinese - for the same reason as you, we teach Chinese as part of the degree.”
Nodding, you continued to admire the corridor’s decorations as you followed him like a loyal puppy. You expected he’d take you to the first lecture theatre he’d be in today and therefore you had no objections as you had minorly found yourself lost within the maze of corridors anyway.
-
It was mildly intimidating to stand before Junhui’s first lecture with him. To stand before a few hundred students, all diligently awaiting Junhui to start teaching. You took a glance at him, where he stood proud at the desk with his chin raised as he admired his students.
“As you’ve already noticed, we have a new member joining the Chinese studies department’s staff team,” Junhui stated, his gaze flickering to look at you out of the corner of his eyes, “this is y/n l/n, she is now entertaining the role as my assistant so she’ll be in all of your lectures from now on.”
The lecture hall erupted into mumbling as you shuffled on your feet anxiously, shifting your weight from one foot to the other continuously as eyes landed on you. You hadn’t expected to feel much pressure on you in this job role but as you finalised Junhui’s introduction by greeting the students, it was beginning to weigh down on you. Junhui suddenly cleared his throat into the desk’s microphone, drawing the attention of his students back to him as he began the lecture.
-
“It’s okay to say if you feel intimidated,” Junhui sighed as he placed a mug of hot liquid before you, listening as you mumbled a thanks, “you definitely seemed it anyway.”
“Was it that obvious?” You sighed as you took a sip of the coffee, eliciting a chuckle from Junhui as he sat at his desk. The two of you had found yourself in Junhui’s office after his first lecture, to which he was eternally grateful for as he needed to find the lecture slides for his next class.
“Just a little,” he mused and you let out a gentle groan, “don’t panic, okay? I get that it’s your first day on the job.”
Your eyes lifted from the steaming mug in front of you to catch a glimpse of Junhui’s small smile before he turned back to his laptop. Unbeknownst to yourself but the sight made your own lips curl up momentarily from the warmth the man had shown you simply on your first day as his assistant.
-
The early morning sun broke through the university’s many hundreds of windows as it began to rise over the horizon, painting every building in Seoul with hues of oranges and pinks. This morning you’d also had to rise early, for Junhui had a 9am class and you particularly didn’t feel like oversleeping.
“Good morning, Ms l/n,” a voice chirped from behind you, “you’re here incredibly early.”
You turned on your heel to face the Chinese man as he stood with a mug in his hand, steam rising from it as it was freshly made. Beside him stood a slightly taller man, thin yet athletic as the unknown male flashed you a welcoming smile.
“Didn’t want to be late today since it’s your final year students.” You laughed lightly, wrapping your coat around you more as a chill ran through your body thanks to the cold temperature of the morning. Junhui chuckled lightly.
“This is Xu Minghao, a professor of the dance department,” Junhui introduced the taller male and suddenly it was explained how he was so athletic, “he’s a good friend of mine, he’s also Chinese.”
Politely, you acknowledged the male who in return acknowledged you back, still smiling to himself.
“Nice to meet you,” you hummed, your eyes finding their way back to the sunrise behind you, “you must both miss home.”
Junhui made a soft noise, as if unsure he wanted to admit that you were correct at this time but Minghao chuckled into the silence Junhui had left after your statement.
“Very much so, it’s a pleasure to meet you too,” the male turned to his older colleague, sighing as he brought his mug up to his face to steal some warmth, “Junhui are you going to let this poor girl freeze or are we going to your office?”
“This isn’t about y/n,” Junhui scoffed, reaching up to flick Minghao’s forehead, “you’re just using my office as a heater.”
-
There was whispers, many of them too. Junhui had his fair share of students to say the least - he taught two modules across all three years of the degree , four if they took a year abroad in China. So to say a few had seen you with Junhui would be an understatement. Yet that was your job, was it not? You were his assistant after all, your job was quite literally to be seen with him otherwise you were off doing something that clearly wasn’t your job.
But Junhui’s students couldn’t understand why he even needed an assistant in the first place. It’s not like you were the one teaching them, you would barely utter a word in their direction sometimes unless it was a seminar; especially one teaching the Chinese language. Though they couldn’t deny the way they’d seen him looking at you, perhaps it was blatantly obvious to everyone but the two of you but Junhui had always looked at you with such longing. Maybe they were pushing the boat out too far but colleagues definitely don’t look at each other the way Junhui looked at you.
They’d also never seen him make eye contact with someone for so long, he hadn’t even managed to look at his own students in the eyes as long as he did with you. You couldn’t be a hundred percent blind to it, surely? The way you’d shuffle your weight on your feet or fumble with the stack of papers you were holding. They’d even noticed the way your hands had a slight quiver to them when you passed him a mug of coffee during seminars.
On a hot summer’s day in the beginning of July, you’d been forced to call in sick due to a sudden stomach bug you refused to pass to Junhui or the students. Junhui tapped his pen on the desk, glancing at his phone as the students worked in groups before him. He was thankful he’d exchanged his number with you a few weeks prior to this but he was certainly prioritising you over his classes on this day, constantly keeping his eyes on his phone in case you replied to his concerned messages. You had told him you’d be napping if you could thanks to a rough night’s sleep but he was still hopeful he could speak to you. He was missing your presence following him around campus.
It was glaringly obvious to his students too. One of them cleared their throat in a mild silence the groupwork had brought to the seminar room, catching Junhui’s attention as he raised his head to look upon his students. They all stared at him, how his eyes were a little wide as if he’d even forgotten he was supposed to be teaching at this hour.
“Mr Wen, forgive us if this is pushing it but we have to ask,” one spoke up, watching as Junhui’s eyes fell to them, tapping his heel on the floor, “do you like Ms l/n?”
Junhui quirked a brow, not quite understanding his students’ hints as he glanced amongst them in confusion.
“Well, yeah, of course I do,” Junhui responded with a perplexed tone to his voice, “she’s my colleague.”
There was a low groan emitted from the small gathering of students, mumbling amongst themselves at how naïve their professor came across sometimes despite his age.
“Not like that, Mr Wen,” another student chirped up, the class frustrated they couldn’t get the answer they were looking for, “do you like her romantically?”
The question froze Junhui in his place as he trailed his gaze amongst the expecting students, all awaiting his answer so eagerly but the male didn’t know how to quite process it. Did he like you? He wasn’t really sure himself. Perhaps that was why he’d been staring at his phone - much against the university’s rules, mind you - all day, awaiting for you to reply even when he’d never experienced so much concern for a person before in his life.
He furrowed his brows momentarily, his gaze falling to the desk in front of him where his laptop displayed the seminar’s powerpoint slides and beside it sat his phone, the screen dark from where he hadn’t received a notification. It lit up promptly, displaying the name he’d saved you under in mere seconds as his eyes lit up. His heart began to race slightly and sure enough, he had to settle himself down under the eyes of his students as he turned back to them.
“I’m not sure.” He mumbled, processing the realisation he was undercoming.
-
When you returned to work, Junhui was prompt to acting as if you were fragile - theoretically bubble wrapping you in every way possible to protect you from getting ill or injured so he would never have to endure a week without you by his side again. You were slightly confused, especially when it was your job to bring him coffees while he worked at his desk and yet here you were, sat before his desk as he stood in the corner of his office where he kept his coffee machine.
He whistled a tune calmly, drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited for the instant coffee to work its magic. His gaze was long out of his office window, watching the clouds dull over the sun and cast an unwelcome grey tone over the skyline. Junhui ultimately kept hoping it wasn’t as obvious to you as it was to his students and he was especially wary of whether he acted too stiff in midst of his own fears of the situation.
“Junhui,” you barely whispered in an attempt to catch his attention, “what’s going on?”
Junhui made a small noise, slightly startled that somewhat sounded like his mind was rebooting as he looked over at you, grabbing the two mugs of hot coffee with a smile.
“What do you mean?” he chuckled, placing one on the coaster in front of you before placing his own down too, “well I mean it’s midterms, they don’t tend to attend class as often right now so we have more spare time.”
You rolled your eyes at his words, reaching to grasp at your mug and take a sip from it.
“Not what I meant and you know it,” you scoffed, watching Junhui’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed in response to your remark, “ever since I came back, it’s like you’re scared I’ll trip over my own feet.”
“Perhaps I am.” He replied bluntly, leaning back in his office chair followed by a sigh. You huffed, throwing yourself back into your chair less smoothly at his remark.
“I get you’re older than me but you don’t need to treat me like a kid with two left feet just because I got ill.” You mumbled and Junhui let out a low chuckle, shaking his head at how pouty you had gotten from the topic.
“How’d you even manage that anyway? None of the students came down with the bug.” He changed topic smoothly but you had caught on and he recognised that by the way you narrowed your eyes at him. You let it pass however, sighing as you recalled how exactly you’d gotten ill.
“I went clubbing with some friends from university as a catch-up while they were in Korea,” it was almost embarrassing to admit to your work superior that you’d perhaps been a little desperate that night, “they tried to hook me up with some guy and I guess we kissed but two days later and I feel like my guts are coming up.”
Junhui tried to hide the disappointment that you were potentially still talking to the guy from the club, a sudden rock in his path against realising how much he was possibly liking you. He tried to shake it off, nodding in acknowledgement as he sipped his coffee once more.
-
Nothing more had been said after you’d admitted how you fell ill at the club. The guy you’d been seeing from the club owned up that he’d also fell ill and therefore you could no longer put the blame on him and a few days of talking later, the two of you decided to test the waters of dating, giving into the pressure from both of your friend groups. Junhui did everything he could to ignore his missed opportunity and minorly broken heart even if the situation had been unrequited, even if it meant a significantly larger amount of coffees daily and a horrific lack of sleep from him staying up all night playing the piano he kept in his apartment’s lounge. He would be a fool to think his awful coping mechanisms had slipped past Minghao.
“You don’t need more coffee.” Minghao remarked from Junhui’s office door just as the man was about to slip a pot into his coffee machine. He scowled, exhaling and letting his shoulders slump as he turned to face the male.
“Who says?” Junhui huffed in a slight tantrum, causing Minghao to roll his eyes and close the office door behind him with his foot as he wandered over to the older male.
“Your heart when you end up in hospital,” Minghao sneered, taking the coffee pot from Junhui’s hand, “how would you explain that to y/n? ‘Cause that’s who this is about, isn’t it?”
Junhui leaned back on the counter, defeated as he watched Minghao’s slim fingers twiddle with the coffee pot he has holding. A sigh escaped his lips, his eyes closing as he rubbed his forehead. Minghao snorted, letting out a laugh followed by a quiet “I knew it.”
“She started dating the guy she’d met at the club that night, y’know, the one who got her ill?” Junhui started talking as if he was confessing his sins in church but Minghao still listened, “even though he wasn’t the one who actually got her ill, he got ill too- whatever.”
“You dawdled too long after you realised you liked her, Jun,” Minghao mumbled, placing the coffee pot on the counter as his eyes glazed over the dark bags under Junhui’s eyes, “where even is she?”
“She’s teaching one of my seminars right now,” Junhui’s words came out under a sigh once more, “she told me to rest and that she’d teach this seminar so I could nap until this afternoon’s lecture.”
“And yet you were going to make yourself another coffee?” Minghao rose a brow and Junhui groaned, throwing his head back.
“I get it, okay?” he clicked his tongue, running a hand through his hair, “I fucking get it.”
Minghao watched the male, slightly defeated but at least content he’d been able to interfere with yet another dose of caffeine that would soon send Junhui over the edge.
“You should try rest now, I’ll take these coffee pots until you do.” He sighed, watching Junhui nod and tiredly collapse onto the couch on the far side of his office.
-
“Did you hear that Ms l/n got a boyfriend?” A student whispered to their close friends as they seated themselves in the lecture theatre. All of their gazes fell to where their professor and his obedient assistant stood at the front, preparing for the lecture at hand.
“Really? Maybe that’s why Mr Wen seems so devoid of energy all the time.” A friend replied in a hushed tone and they all nodded in agreement.
“We must have been right y’know, when we questioned him while Ms l/n was ill.” Another one of the group quipped, shoulders drooped as they collectively took in the difference that had become of their professor.
-
You were more than aware that things had become rocky with Junhui after you started dating the idiot from the club and you had certainly recognised that he’d at least stopped bubble wrapping you however as you navigated the maze of corridors in the staff department, your footsteps rushed as you hung your head low to hide the stream of tears down your face, you were hoping he didn’t reject your need for help.
Junhui’s office seemed to be the furthest side of the staff department, not far from Kim Mingyu of the art department and Yoon Jeonghan of the mathematics department. You wished he wasn’t so far away but as you approached his office, the crowds of staff thinned and there was less eyes on your hunched form. Your knuckle knocked rashly on his office door yet you couldn’t even await an answer from him as you opened the door, slamming it behind you.
There he sat on the office’s couch, a glass of water in his hand and some headache medication on the coffee table in front of him. He sat straight, his eyes landing on you in a matter of seconds thanks to the entrance you’d created.
“Y/n?” he mumbled, furrowing his brows as you sniffled and tried not to burst into crazed sobs before him like a complete fool. He placed the glass of water down, gesturing you over to sit with him and even if you wanted to fight it, your feet guided you to him as if he was home, “what’s wrong?”
That’s all it took for you to choke on your breath, letting out a soft sob as you began to bawl your eyes out, covering your face with your hands as your body shook. Junhui tensed up, not entirely sure how to cope with this - he wasn’t sure if it was because it was rare he’d been in a situation with a crying person or because of how distant the two of you had become but he ultimately settled for pulling your shaking body towards him, letting you rest against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you and let you cry. He established that you would speak when you were ready, if you even wanted to tell him that is and after a few minutes, your sobs fell still to small sniffles and hiccups as you calmed down.
“He cheated,” you croaked out, your voice barely staying in one tone as you thought to get oxygen into your lungs, “I was such a fool for thinking I could finally be happy.”
Junhui’s tongue ran along his teeth, his eyes staring at the wall opposite him as his vision almost turned red with anger. How dare he? How dare that absolute imbecile reduce you to this state of vulnerability and at what cost? What did this other girl have that you didn’t? Because he saw you as perfect. You had everything and there was no chance in hell you were replaceable. He treasured everything he could about you, even as your work colleague and almost friend.
“Don’t say that,” Junhui whispered, deciding he should at least try to comfort you as he stroked your hair with one hand, “he didn’t deserve what you had to give him in the first place.”
He was holding back how he’d been feeling in the moment for the sake of not setting you off again not that you were calming down, your breaths quiet and a tissue he’d passed you stuffed up one of your nostrils to stop it running momentarily - attractive, no doubt about it but you couldn’t have cared less about trying to impress Junhui anymore.
You’d fell into some stupid ex-sports student’s trap in an attempt to get over Junhui - or at least the concept that you were beginning to like not only your work superior but a man a few years older than you. You’d rushed desperately into something to stop yourself being heartbroken when he didn’t return your feelings and yet you’d still managed to get your heart shattered when you got attached to the fling you’d acquired.
Yet you would never admit to Junhui that far into the story and Junhui would always settle for what you told him regardless.
-
September rolled around much to the dismay of the students and the staff as summer came to an end. Yet for Junhui and yourself, you hadn’t cared a bit. He’d seen you fairly often during the break - thanks to that phone number he acquired and in an attempt to comfort you, he’d include in his life even if it just got you out of your dingy apartment. You’d even helped him deep clean his own apartment and that was the day you learnt that Junhui played the piano. He refused to play it in front of you however.
“Good morning, Minghao.” You greeted the tall male as Junhui and yourself approached him. He smiled, his eyes lingering on Junhui for a moment before his gaze fell down to you.
“Morning you two,” he mused, sipping his coffee - you assumed he’d already been to his office before you arrived, “excited for another academic year?”
Junhui groaned from beside you, a scarf wrapped around his neck as the summer temperatures began to fall as South Korea welcomed autumn and its cooler weather. It wasn’t even that cold out and you’d voiced that to him when you’d first taken note of the scarf.
“Far from it,” Junhui sighed, shaking his head as Minghao laughed, “I want to sleep in, even if it’s just for one more day.”
As you watched the two converse, you chewed your lip and pulled your coat around yourself tighter. You’d decided today was the day you admitted to Junhui the stupid work colleague crush you’d developed on him since you began working this job - even more rapidly after he began to comfort you in light of asshole-from-the-club. Junhui had named him that. You’d accepted the fact there was only so much more that your already shattered heart could break.
-
Quietly sat in your favourite chair in Junhui’s office, your eyes landed on the counter where Junhui used to keep his coffee machine. Your eyebrows knitted together, turning towards where Junhui was typing away on his laptop.
“Where’s your beloved coffee machine gone?” You mused, a little confused since Junhui always had his coffee in the morning especially yet recently you’d noticed how he was always drinking water.
“Change in lifestyle,” he hummed in response, not lifting his eyes from his laptop screen, “why? Already having caffeine withdrawals?”
You scoffed, shaking your head as you sipped the smoothie you’d grabbed from your local convenience store on your way to work this morning.
“Says you - that’s got to be bullshit Junhui.” You taunted, narrowing your eyes at him as he tensed a little under the pressure of your stare.
“Okay fine, I got a bad addiction before the summer break as a coping mechanism so technically it is a change in lifestyle but I had to quit it.” Junhui sighed, leaning back in his chair. His eyes fell to you and your mouth opened slightly with no sound following behind. Had Junhui fell into a caffeine addiction when you fell into that awful relationship coping mechanism? The two of you realised almost simultaneously, both beginning to speak. Junhui laughed awkwardly, gesturing for you to speak first but you shook your head, convinced he should speak first.
“Yes, I like you y/n,” Junhui’s words came out as a low mumble as he no longer kept eye contact with you, fiddling with the wire of his phone charger that fell on his lap, “yes, I fell into a caffeine addiction to cope with you getting in a relationship and I never slept. I promise, I’ve changed now.”
The metallic taste of blood seeped into your mouth as your teeth endlessly put pressure on your lip, trying to fight the smile that was beginning to creep across your face.
“That relationship was a coping mechanism to try get over you because I was certain you’d never feel the same,” you admitted with a soft laugh, tilting your head back as you tried to process how you got into this situation, “if you would have told me sooner, we could have avoided that problem all together?”
“Oh so the blame is on me?” Junhui chuckled, leaning forward on his desk, “will you forgive me if I take you on a date after work?”
“You know what, sure.” You finally let the smile take over, unable to hide the stupid lovestruck grin you were feeling thanks to finally releasing an extremely pent up emotion.
-
“Mr Wen, how’s Ms l/n?” A student perked up as Junhui set up the seminar slides, causing him to purse his lips. You were attending a meeting in his place so he didn’t have to find cover for this seminar and hence you were absent from the room. Junhui had in fact taken you a restaurant date after work and following it he’d taken you back to his apartment for a drink where he finally played piano for you.
“She’s well, she’ll be back next class.” He hummed, keeping the conversation late as he connected the slides to the projector, preparing to record the seminar however the prompt remark of a student caused him to hover over the record button.
“We knew we could read you like a book.”
#cafeshuaaa#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen fanfic#seventeen jun#moon junhui#wen junhui#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt fluff#svt fanfic#svt#svt jun#professor!au#afab!reader
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Ok. This is a prequel AU where professors Sada, Turo, Birch, and Sycamore are college-aged and in a metal band which logo is the best option (Birch is the lead singer he flew in from Hoenn). I have band logo ideas
[ID: a Breaking Bad-like logo for Cytoplasm Blastocyst that uses the Chemical symbols for Oxygen and Arsenic. end of ID.]
Breaking Bad logo because science nerds making a metal band. Yes those are Oxygen and Arsenic, the second one make it edgy because Arsenic has Arse. Turo explained this to birch and he started laughing when Sycamore told him what Arse means in Galarian English and made breaking bad jokes is a terrible Blazikeney Accent.
[ID: Cytoplasm Blastocyst Logo made from Lipops, a cutesy font, but with drippiness to make it edgier. end of ID.]
It's implied Augustine drew this on a chalkboard and Turo shook his head and Spraying and they based the logo on the drips. Turo said it was too cutesy and told Birch to make Augustine the Drummer.
[ID: Cytoplasm Blastocyst logo with triangle-shaped letter A's and in Secreto Demo. End of ID.]
Drawn on a whiteboard by Sada. The eyes are from Clobbopus nd Polywrath respectively
[ID: Cytoplasm Blastocyst logo spelled with unown, a pokemon based off of the roman alphabet and an exclaimation point and question mark. End of ID.]
Just uses Unown that Birch took a Photo of
[ID: Cytoplasm Blastocyst logo with the melty monster font. End of ID.]
Made with a font called Melty Mon in the Pokemon universe, Sada rejected this from birch.
#digital art#pokemon au#metal band au#made in clip studio#wip#breaking bad logo#poll#band logo#font choice#pokemon#professor sycamore#professor birch#Professor turo#Professor Sada#college au#edgy but like how Seventeen Magazine portays it
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"Circles Chapter 1"
jeonghan x oc x seungcheol
status: ongoing
genre: drama, fluff, angst, teach au (oc is not a student)
synopsis: Faye has always been more focused on her career than her social life. When she gets two new customers at her cafe, her once solitary life begins to change.
chapter list
next chapter
She was checking the money in the cash register to ensure that everything was in order before opening the cafe. Though her workers check the register the evening before, she just had to double-check, just in case. Since the cafe was not open yet, Circles Cafe and Bakery were quiet except for the soft music playing in the background and the occasional clinks of the coins being counted. The morning shift manager and employees would arrive in a few minutes to start their shifts.
Faye sighed in satisfaction before setting the cash back into the cash register in their proper spots and closing the cash register. She smiled to herself, happy that everything seems to be in place before opening. All she needs to do is wait for the employees to show and they will be able to start the day.
The sound of a phone rang throughout the mostly quiet cafe. Faye moves from the cash register and bar area to head to the kitchen, where she had previously left her phone. She looked at the caller ID and saw it was one of her employees. She tapped on the accept button before holding the phone to her ear.
“Hey, Mira,” Faye answered through her phone. “Is there something you need?”
“Hi Ms. Freya, I am so sorry this is last minute! I won’t be able to make it to my shift today. I have a family emergency that I need to take care of,” Mira apologized in a rush.
“Oh Mira, of course, that’s ok, thank you for letting me know ahead of time. I’ll try getting someone else to cover your shift. Don’t worry about it! I hope everything will be well for you and your family,” Faye tried to calm down the girl.
“Thank you so much, Ms. Freya!” Mira responded gratefully and said her goodbyes before hanging up the phone.
Faye looked through her phone to check other employees' schedules and saw that there wasn't really anyone who could take Mira’s morning shift. Everyone’s schedule was already packed since most of her employees are full-time students at the University down the street. Only two of her employees are not students. Faye thought about her own schedule before deciding that she would be able to handle the 4-hour shift.
The sound of the back door, connected to the kitchen, opening catches her attention as she looks over. A small female with short brown wavy hair and circular glasses peeked through before smiling and waving at Faye. “Good morning!”
“Good morning, Aiyana,” Faye replied and waved back. “I’ll be your shift buddy for today.”
“Oh! What about Mira?” Aiyana put on her black apron that was hanging on the wall. Faye walked over and grabbed an apron as well before pulling it over her head and tying the back.
“She had a family emergency and I noticed everyone’s schedule is busy, so I’ll be out on the floor with you,” Faye explained. “It’ll give me more exercise than just being in the office most of the time.”
The back door opened again and a few more employees trickled in and started getting ready for their shifts. Each of them grabbed their aprons and had a small talk about their morning. They waved to Faye and Aiyana, shyly. The employees get into their places in the kitchen and by the bar since it was time to flip the sign from closed to open.
Faye headed back to the front of the cafe and flipped the sign to open before unlocking the front door. She opened the door and took out the chalkboard easel to put it next to the doorway for customers to see their daily specials.
After opening the store, they’ve had a couple of customers come in to grab a quick drink or snack before heading to where they need to be. Faye could tell that most of them were students from the university. Some would even stay in the cafe and pull out textbooks to study before their next classes started or others would take out their laptops since the cafe did have free wifi.
***
There was a few minutes left of Faye’s shift before she would be able to clock out and one of the managers would be starting their shift, which meant she would be able to leave the cafe up to them unless they called for help, which rarely happened.
The bell above the front door rang as two customers walked inside. Faye looked at the customers from where she stood in front of the cash register. There were two men talking to each other as they walked into the cafe and towards the cash register. They were really handsome and it wasn’t only Faye who thought so as the people in the cafe looked at them. Even a couple of female students began whispering to each other while looking at the men.
The first man to walk in was fair-skinned with blonde hair that reached his shoulders and curtain bangs that framed his face. The way his bangs framed his face emphasized his facial features such as his dark eyes that were filled with laughter and pink lips that were turned up in a smile. He was wearing a blue and white striped button-up over a white shirt with black pants. He started laughing at the man next to him showing his cheekbones.
The second man who was being laughed at had a scowl on his face as he glared at the man next to him. He had shorter black hair compared to the other man. His hair was pushed back with a few stray strands falling over his forehead. He had thick eyebrows and dark eyes that seemed to settle into a natural glare. His lips were a little smaller than the other man but it could’ve been because he was sulking a bit. He was wearing a black polo that was tucked into gray slacks.
The blonde one definitely had a more playful vibe around him, while the black-haired one seemed to have a more serious vibe to him. The two men looked up to check the menu and see what they were going to order. Faye looked down at the register not wanting to get caught staring at them. She could hear the two somewhat whisper arguing with each other which made her wonder what they were arguing about until she heard someone clear their throat.
She looked up and saw that the two were right in front of her waiting. The blonde one was smiling at her, while the black-haired one was looking away with a slight grimace on his face.
“Hello, welcome to Circles Cafe and Bakery! What can I get you two?” Faye recites the words she’s been saying all day to the two with a smile on her face.
“Hi! Can I get an iced vanilla latte?” The blonde one requests and looks over to the man next to him. The black-haired one doesn’t seem to notice the attention on him until his friend elbows his side. He looked over ready to hit his friend when he realized that they were both looking at him.
He cleared his throat with a cough before asking, “I’ll get an iced coffee latte.” He looked away again after a while, his friend sighed and shook his head at him.
Faye smiled at the two before telling them that they could wait at the pickup area for their drinks. She was about to head to the bar area and help make the drinks when the blonde one spoke up.
“I was wondering if you were new here,” he tilts his head with the same smile on his face. Faye looks at him in wonder. She was unused to people trying to make conversation with her which was her preferred way to work in all honesty.
Her own smile slightly fell as she answered his question, “I’m not new here but I rarely ever work in the front. Um, if you’ll excuse me, I should help out with making the drinks.” She bows her head before hurrying to help make the drinks. The two guys stay quiet before heading over to the pickup area.
Faye started to make the drinks as she pondered why a guy that good-looking would talk to her or even notice that she doesn’t usually work in the front. As she was caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t realize that she was almost done with making both of the drinks. She was going to hand the drinks to another worker so that they could call out the drinks but she saw that they were all busy.
She headed over to the pickup counter and called out the two drinks. The two males came up to the counter to grab their drinks. Faye hoped that the man wouldn’t try to interact with her again and that she could clock out soon after. They reached the counter and grabbed their drinks. The black-haired one grabbed his drink quietly and immediately started drinking. The blonde one, however, looked at Faye before smiling cheekily and saying thanks for the drink as well as having a great day.
Faye shook her head slightly, sighing to herself. She hoped that she wouldn’t have to see the two men again, as it made her feel weird that they were paying attention to her. She preferred her circle to be small with just her best friend, Estelle, and her family. She doesn’t want customers to feel unwelcome, so she just hoped that if they came back the situation wouldn’t be the same as today’s.
After Faye clocked out it seemed the cafe had calmed down since the two men left. The hot topic of the day was gone, making the atmosphere of the cafe settle down back to its usual ambiance. Faye was getting ready to head out to the front as she waved goodbye to the other employees.
She walked out the front door of the cafe and was going to head back to her apartment when she felt her phone start vibrating in her pocket. She dug her hand into her tote bag trying to feel for her phone. She felt the vibrating device and took it out before answering it after seeing it was her mom. She won’t be heading to her apartment till later then.
“Hiya Mom,” Faye greets her. Her mom must be checking to see if she was still coming over today for lunch.
“Faye! Are you still coming over today?” Her mom asks happily.
Faye chuckles at her mom’s hyperness. “Of course! I gotta take some of the food home so I don’t have to cook.”
“Weell, if you just came back home, you wouldn’t have to worry about cooking anymore,” Her mom teases playfully. “What time will you be coming home then?”
Faye tells her she’ll be home in about 30 minutes and the two hang up since she’ll need to go walk to the bus stop. The bus stop was close to her cafe since it was by the university and many people took the bus to get to the university. She headed over to the direction of the University. She passed by many stores and restaurants that were on the block that was packed with university students and staff. These few blocks were actually called University District because of how often it is occupied by university students and staff.
She eventually reached the bus stop by the front of the college that would take her near her parents' house, probably about a 10-minute walk. Faye stood there and waited for the bus to arrive, which should arrive in a few minutes. She got her phone out to pass the time by scrolling through social media.
While scrolling through social media, she overheard some university students talking to each other. “Did you really take that class as an elective so you can see Professor Choi three times a week?” One of the students asks their friend. The friend responds and they start discussing whether it was a stupid idea to take the class just to see the really handsome professor every few days a week. Hearing the conversation made Faye think back to her own college days when she used to do the same with her sister and best friend. It made her smile to reminisce about the old days despite it only being two years ago.
The bus finally arrived and Faye got on the bus. She sat towards the front of the bus by the window before grabbing her headphones to listen to music on the way to her parent’s house.
Faye finally arrived at her parent’s house after about 30 minutes of taking the bus and walking the rest of the way. Walking from the bus stop to her parent’s house was very relaxing for Faye. It let her just enjoy the sounds of the peaceful neighborhood, where some children were out in their front yards playing and some adults just hanging out on the front porches.
She entered the house after unlocking the door with the spare key she had. She took off her shoes and slipped on some indoor sandals before calling out to her parents. “Helloo? I’m home!”
She walked to the living room to check if anyone was in there. She peeked her head around the corner to look in the living room and saw that no one was there but there were figures in the glass door that led to the backyard. She skips over to the door to greet her parents.
“Whatcha doing back here?” Faye opens the door to her parents in the back as the two were by the grill. They looked over surprised to see her.
Her mom gasps before rushing over to Faye. “When did you get here?! I missed you!”
“I just got here and was looking for you guys,” Faye laughed and hugged her mom. She looked over her shoulder to see her dad smiling at the two by the grill as he continued to barbeque. He waves when he noticed she was looking at him.
“You didn’t even put your stuff down yet!” Her mom said exasperatedly after pulling away from the hug and looking at Faye’s belongings in her hand. Faye scratched her head with a small smile on her face, before shrugging at her mom.
“I forgot about it, hehe,” Faye explains. “I was focused on where you guys were.”
“You can go put it inside right now. We’ll be in pretty soon since the barbeque is almost done,” Her mom turns her around and nudges her to the door, while her dad starts packing the plate with the barbeque.
Faye starts to head inside and puts her stuff on the couch of the living room. She looks around as she waits for her parents to come inside. Faye notices that the pictures had moved from where they were before. Instead of being on the console table behind the couch, the pictures were moved to the wall. She runs her fingers across a particular picture of her family.
It was a picture of the family a couple of years ago for Christmas. It showed the four figures of the family. Her parents were behind her and her twin, Flora. The picture actually wasn’t a well-taken one. Faye didn’t realize that the timer wasn’t on the camera and took the picture by accident, so no one was actually prepared for the photo. Freya and Flora were close to the camera trying to figure out the camera while their parents were in the background staring at the twins.
After the picture was taken, they all started laughing because they weren’t expecting the picture to be taken. But after they calmed down, they took the actual family photo. Faye smiled as she thought back to that day. Flora kept telling Faye to delete the photo since she didn’t like how it came out, but Faye kept it anyways because she thought it was funny.
Faye’s finger lingered on Flora’s face for a bit before she heard the sound of the backdoor opening. She took her hand off and turned to her parents before taking a few steps toward them.
“Did you guys need any help bringing anything in?” Faye questioned. Her parents denied the help telling her she can go set up the table and get ready to eat instead.
Faye and her parents ate together at the dining table and caught up with each other what everyone’s been up to. Her dad has just been doing work remotely from his office room, while her mom has been trying new hobbies like baking. She even tried making Faye’s favorite dessert, chocolate chip brownies, which Faye got to try after lunch and was really good even though it was her mom’s first time.
Her parents then asked about her and how she’s been doing. Faye didn’t know how to respond at first because she knew her parents wanted her to say things such as she’s been going out, doing new things, or meeting new people. But she hasn’t done any of those, so it made it hard for her to tell them the truth.
She eventually gave in and told them she’s been just working, and she could tell they were a bit sad to hear nothing else except work from her.
“What about at work though? Anything new like employees, customers, or anything at all?” Her mom inquired. Faye pursed her lips slightly, wondering if she should tell her parents about the two men that showed up at her work.
“I- I guess there was something new at work,” Faye looks away from her parents. Her parents lean in excitedly, wanting to hear the news from her. “It wasn’t much really.”
“I just got these two new customers and they caused a small ruckus with the lady customers that were there already because they were really handsome, y’know? Nothing much really!” Faye exclaims, waving her hands in front of her.
“Handsome? What kind of handsome? What did they look like?” Her mom shoots question after question. She even scooted her chair closer to Faye. Her dad looked less excited knowing it was just two handsome males but continued to listen since he wanted to know what the big deal was about the two guys.
“They were like really handsome, like all the girls in the store were looking and whispering about them when they showed up,” Faye described. “One had blonde shoulder-length hair while the other had short black hair and they kinda had an idol look to them”
“Oh my, they must be really handsome then! Next time take a picture and send it to me,” Her mom demands.
“Mooom, I can’t just take pictures of strangers. They’ll get upset or think I’m weird!” Faye protested.
“But you are weird. I would know, you’re my child,” Her mom joked innocently. Faye pouts at her before looking to her dad for help. He looks away not wanting to take sides. He became a traitor to Faye at that moment.
“Anyways, it was my first time seeing them so who knows if they’ll show up again.”
***
Faye had obviously spoken too soon because they were there again except they were actually sitting at one of the tables of her cafe. They were at a table by the front door. Faye wanted to bang her head against a wall for jinxing herself or maybe her mom prayed and manifested that they’d go to the cafe again. It sounded like something her mom would do.
On the bright side, Faye wasn’t working at the cash register today. Instead, she was in the office but she wasn’t needed at the cafe anymore, so she could leave. But she didn’t want to go through the back because it took a while to get out from the employee parking lot for all the stores and restaurants.
Faye wonders why she had jinxed herself like this and why this was happening. She sighed before trying to hype herself up and get the courage to walk out the front door. What are the odds they’ll remember her, right? Who was she kidding, she’s probably jinxing herself even more now.
Faye takes a deep breath in before grabbing her bag and putting it on her shoulder. She holds the part of the strap that was in front of her to give her something to grip on to calm her nerves.
She opens the door that leads to the front of the cafe and starts heading out. She waves quietly to the other employees letting them know she was leaving now.
Just a few more steps and she would be out of there and away from social interaction.
Faye was right in front of the door about to grab the handle.
“Excuse me, miss?”
Faye wanted to cry right on the spot. She had told herself mentally that it was ok, it’ll be quick, and then she’ll be gone. She turned to the man who called out to her and saw it was the same blonde man from before.
This time his hair was tied half up half down. His friend was sitting across from him with his hair left down against his forehead. The two were dressed somewhat business casual.
“Yes?” Faye queried.
“Are you off, right now?” The blonde beamed, smiling innocently at her.
“Um, yeah I am... Can I ask why you’re asking?” Faye stammered.
“I wanted to get to know you,” He answers.
“Ah, I don't want to intrude.”
“You won’t be intruding! We’re inviting you to sit with us.” He insists.
Faye looks to the other man who was staying quiet, watching them interact. “Is it really ok with you as well?”
He looks back at her before nodding his head. “I’m alright with it.”
Faye tightens her grip on her bag’s strap, feeling nervous. She slowly nods her head at the two, accepting their invitation. She goes to the last seat at the circular table.
She sits at the table with them and looks at the two, staying quiet. The blonde smiles at her while leaning on the table with his arms crossed on it. The black-haired one just continues to look at his drink while stirring it.
“I’m Jeonghan, and this is my friend, Seungcheol,” Jeonghan introduces themselves to Faye. Seungcheol looks up when he heard his name and gives a small smile.
“Ah, I’m Freya,” She hesitates with an uncertain smile, as she fidgets with her fingers.
“It’s ok! We’re not bad people or anything! We’re actually professors at the university down the street,” Jeonghan explains to her, trying to calm her nerves. Seungcheol nods his head at her.
“We come here sometimes when we both aren’t in class, but we usually know the staff that’s working, so when we noticed there was someone else working we were a bit surprised and wanted to get to know you.” Jeonghan smiles.
Faye nods her head in understanding. She realized that these two professors are probably the ones that the students were talking about the other day. She had to admit that they were really handsome and that she and her sister definitely would’ve done the same if they were professors at their college.
“Ah, I see. I’m not a new worker though. I’ve been here since the start seeing as I own the cafe,” Faye commented.
Jeonghan and Seungcheol had surprised looks on their faces as they said in unison, “Really?”
Faye nods with a small simple on her face, enjoying the shock that people have when they find out she’s the owner. They had a cute surprised look with their eyes wide and mouths gaped open. “I don’t usually work outside of the office but sometimes the employees can’t make it to their shifts and can’t get someone else to take their shift. So, sometimes I’ll take up their shift.”
“Does that mean if we become friends we can get free coffee?” Jeonghan bantered with a cheeky grin. Seungcheol nods his head enthusiastically hoping for the discount.
“I dunno about that,” Faye scratches the back of her head. The two men sigh sadly.
“It was worth a shot,” Seungcheol murmured.
“I think I should be heading home soon,” Faye informs the two sulking men in front of her. They perk up a bit.
“Would it be okay to meet you after your work tomorrow?” Jeonghan chirped.
Faye thought about what she should say to them. She honestly liked seeing their faces but wasn’t really sure if she should continue to get to know the two.
“I’m sorry, but I’ll be busy after work tomorrow,” Faye starts to get up and try to take her leave.
A hand softly grabs her wrist. She follows the hand up to the owner seeing that it’s Seungcheol, surprisingly. She would’ve expected Jeonghan to be the more straightforward one.
“How about the day after?” Seungcheol asks softly, trying to not scare her away.
Faye bites her lip, feeling a bit bad that they were trying hard to get to know her. Jeonghan pouts at her.
“I guess we can hang out after my work that day. I’ll be off at 6 PM,” Faye relents to them.
“Alright! We’ll meet you here then,” Jeonghan cheered. Seungcheol lets go of her hand but smiles at her before looking at Jeonghan. The two high-five each other happy that they managed to convince her.
Faye internally sighs to herself, hoping that this would turn out to be a good decision.
a/n: sorry this was delayed! just started working and it be tiring ;-; i’ll be adding the chapter list at the beginning and end of every chapter as well as a next and previous chapter link!
chapter list
next chapter
#kpop fanfic#yoon jeonghan#jeonghan#choi seungcheol#scoups#seventeen fanfic#seventeen#trying to write angst#professor#fluff
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no place for it in my earlier set but i’ll be responding to emails texts and phone calls with nothing but this gif from now on;
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Okay, the seventeen with a chubby s/o brainrot is real. I'm going to go write the rest of the members now 😭
#shu's daydreaming ☁︎#oh yes definitely doing this instead of my essay#sorry professor#seventeen comes first#shu's uni trials ☃︎
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one covid diagnosis later... some Studence of penumbra! but gijinkas! i'm gonna be strapped for time with college so time will tell if i draw the rest (i really want to!!!!)
also have this with cosmo and luin (who ik isn't a student but i just wanted to try and sketch him out. difficult endeavor)
#flight rising#fr#not a noodle (macaroni)#third time's the charm (edmund)#seventeen facets (diciassette)#herald of sunset (elysium)#penumbra's professor (cosmo)#thriving against godly wishes (lúin)#scribbolts#i'm recovered more or less from the Sickness btw don't worry about me
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in lecture.
suggestive. college au. prof!mingyu. wc 1.3k.
professor kim mingyu took his course seriously, using every single lecture as an opportunity to slightly stray from the curriculum, attempting to inspire the crowd. with calculus.
to his success, and your surprise, you were one of his inspired pupils. each time he dove into the history of a mathematician after introducing a theorem they proved, his passion couldn’t help but latch onto you.
at this point, you couldn't tell whether you had considered switching to a math major because of this newfound interest, or because it meant you would spend more time in your professor's department.
༉‧₊˚.
the week before the midterm you knew you were fucked. your notebook was full of two months worth of information but your mind was bare of knowledge.
if you had no shame, you might admit that you were distracted in class. staring at his back while he wrote on the board was sure to break your focus. he always wore a button up that fit just right around his body. his shirt sculpted him well around his shoulders with rolled up sleeves that fit tight around his biceps.
back in your dorm, blanking staring at your notes under the light of your desk lamp made your stomach turn. if you wanted to prepare for this exam, you would have to start paying attention soon. with tomorrow morning's lecture, you expected to stop letting your mind wander and focus on the material.
༉‧₊˚.
"today's gonna be a little different." he uttered the words while sorting his things on the desk in the corner of the room, dropping a stack of papers on the wooden surface.
"i want you all to try out a practice worksheet." he announces with his arms crossed, hip leaning against his desk. "i'll give you eight minutes to complete these eight problems, then you’ll split you into pairs and you can compare your work."
he walked around the class to pass out the worksheet. he handed you the worksheet and you thanked him while catching a glimpse of his calloused hands. when he walked away the aroma of his woodsy cologne warmly filled your lungs. your eyelids fluttered as you inhaled it, pleasantly delighted by the scent.
he started a timer on his phone and the class had begun working. you noticed him completing the problems alongside his students, crouching over a desk, one hand propping himself above the desk and the other bearing a pencil.
while everyone was silent and working, you looked up at your professor. he gnawed on his lip while staring at the worksheet, you could see the areas he marked up on his paper from your desk. some problems on his copy had a short answer where yours extended past the answer box.
shit, you thought. i need to go to office hours.
suddenly the blaring of his phone rang and your time was up. the students around you sat up straight, murmuring small groans of frustration.
“alright, find a pair. i want you to compare answers with each other, talk about how you got there, i’ll be coming around to help you out if you need it.” his instruction boomed through the room with ease while the shuffling of students rising from their seats with papers in hand began.
you remain in your seat, not knowing many people in your class. those you did know had already found a partner. you weren’t sure what to do or if you could even get out of your chair.
a tap on your shoulder breaks your small panic.
“hi,” a bright smile beams as you turn, “could i be your partner?”
“sure,” you say shyly, not expecting to be approached. much less by someone cute.
“i’m chan.” the way he smirks has your heart fluttering. how have you never noticed him in your relatively small lecture before?
“i’m y/n,” you can’t help the warmth that spreads in your face, feeling a smile growing on your lips.
“so what’d you get for the first problem?” he asks.
༉‧₊˚.
time seemed to slow with chan. he would scoot as close to you as he could, sliding his worksheet towards yours and pointing at similarities in your work. you found yourself stumbling on your words when he locked eyes with you.
his cologne lingered in the air between you, a bit stronger than your professors, but equally pleasant. you held back a delighted sigh that tempted to leave your throat. you couldn’t recall a guy your age who was so easy to be around the way chan was.
he was so kind and very funny. when you were clearly confused he would waste no time in carefully explaining his work to you. and when things got quiet between you, he’d have the perfect one liner to make you giggle a bit too loudly.
“what’s going on over here?” mingyu walks up to you after helping other students.
“just working through our answers.” chan answered.
“did you need help with anything? ‘cause it doesn’t sound like much work is getting done.” he replied while looking at you. his tone seemed to shift with a slight furrow in his brow. he sounded much less friendly than when class had started.
“that’s alright, professor. we’ll get back to it.” chan says.
“alright.” he speaks frankly, then walks away towards a different group.
“yikes.” chan breaks the silence after he's far away enough.
“did we make him mad?” you ask.
"no idea."
“sorry, maybe i laughed too loud.” you offer timidly.
“don’t apologize for that,” chan smirks, “it was cute.”
༉‧₊˚.
“alright, everyone. we’ve got only a couple minutes left. i want you to take these worksheets home. you can use them as practice material for the exam. you can bring it after the exam and turn it in.” mingyu announces while students pack up to leave.
“hey, uh, y/n, could i get your number?” chan asks you before leaving. “maybe we could do the homework or study for the exam together sometime?” he extends his phone to you carefully.
“oh, sure.” you smile and take his phone, typing in your digits and handing it back to him.
you had no problem giving him your number after today. of course chan couldn’t leave without finding a way to hear more from you.
you, on the other hand, couldn’t leave without knowing when your professor had office hours. chan was a great help but you still weren’t understanding the fundaments of the skills covered on the worksheet, much less the skills covered since the beginning of the semester.
chan left the class along with the crowd after waving goodbye with a smile that could’ve knocked you on your back. you waved and felt heat rush to your cheeks as you gathered your stuff.
walking towards the front of the class, you stood before your professor’s desk, waiting for him to turn around.
when he faces you, he simply stares without acknowledgement. “hi, professor, i had a question.” you look up at him with your tail between your legs. he’s much taller when he’s directly in front of you.
he sits back against the surface of his desk and crosses his arms against his chest, now closer to your height he seemed more approachable. he doesn’t utter a word, but rather nods his head to signal that you can continue speaking.
“when are your office hours? i think i might need extra help with this unit.” you ask.
his face relaxes and he speaks. “it’s every monday, wednesday, and friday from 3-4pm.”
“okay. hopefully i’ll see you there sometime next week.” you smile politely before turning towards the door.
“hopefully?” he says, stopping you in your tracks before you could walk away. “or definitely?” he faces you with his head tilted while remaining against his desk.
his question confused you, but you thought to entertain him so you could leave peacefully. “definitely.” you lightly chuckle, awkwardly fidgeting with the straps of your bag.
“that’s what i like to hear.” he smiles, rising to his feet again. “then i’ll see you around, hm?”
“yes, sir.” you sheepishly reply, seeing yourself out of the class soon after.
that was weird.
the second part.
#seventeen#seventeen smut#seventeen fics#seventeen hard hours#seventeen hard thoughts#svt hard hours#svt hard thoughts#svt smut#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#seventeen professor#professor au#college au#professor mingyu#mingyu smut#mingyu hard hours#mingyu hard thoughts#kim mingyu#seventeen mingyu#mingyu x reader
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Professor Joshua
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~S.Coups~
Professor Moodboard
💼💼
#moodboard#aesthetic#moodboard aesthetic#aesthetic moodboard#created by me#seventeen#seventeen aesthetic#seventeen moodboard#scoups#scoups moodboard#scoups aesthetic#seventeen choi seungcheol#choi seungcheol#happyscoupsday#happy birthday scoups#professor aesthetic#professor moodboard
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Of course I chose the most hardest Physics topic for my presentation.
#I have so much to do my professor literally was like no that’s not how you do it now I have to restart#physics#the8#seventeen#personal#studyblr#xu minghao
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FJDHGLJKASDHGLHFDGL
WHY
I DO NOT NEED MORE AUS
I WAS THINKING ABOUT WHEN I USED TO DRAW OCS AND STUFF AS POKEMON GYM LEADERS AND THEN MY BRAIN JUST. THREW A WANDERSONG POKEMON AU AT ME
HELP
#wandersong#pokemon#aaaaaaaaa why#how many do i even have now#fifteen i think???#seventeen if you count the wandersong-stray-hollow knight-d&d crossover i randomly made one day and the modern au au#this is not okay#well unfortunately uhhh#raine's wandersong aus#wandersong au#yknow what i'm just gonna go into the details why not#kiwi is the protagonist obviously#miriam is probably their rival?#audrey is the champion#the professor is either eyala or mask (maybe both idk we had SWSH with Sonia and Magnolia so-)#why am i putting so much thought into this aaaaaaa#great now i want to replay all the pokemon games on my switch
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spoke to my father over lunch about my future, the field of psychology & neuroscience, advocacy law, etc. and i’m honestly beginning to seriously look into being a professor, most likely of psychology. because what i’ve been grappling with a lot lately is an interest to go into clinical psychology, but also the fact that while doing that may leave me time to pursue research endeavors, i may lack time to actually pursue the ethics of the field of psychology & psychiatry. which as we all know, there are so many ethical problems with how psychology runs currently, the DSM-5 is a disaster, my father (bless him) is going to get me an autobiography about someone who was misdiagnosed six different times under the DSM-4 (iirc?). like there are so many things i want to tackle rather than just sitting there and upholding the system; there’s a lot of good in therapy but ideally i would want to be a therapist who actually seeks to change systemic problems.
i think the ideal future for me, honestly, would be if i could juggle being a therapist, a professor, and a lawyer all at once. whether i can actually do this is unlikely because that requires (1) having the ability to get all those degrees which would cost so much money and (2) having the fucking time to do any of this, while working a job, which would get me that aforementioned money. so i don’t think this is actually plausible, but like.
being a college professor sounds like a good lifestyle i think. be it for political science (which i’m still thinking about in terms of lifelong prospects) or for psychology, i would find that interesting. i am just wondering how i can adapt law into this so i can challenge some ethics constitutionally or within the field of psychology, because i know for certain i can only do one of those two if at all.
i don’t know. i’ve just been thinking about it. we’ll have to see where this all goes.
#nightmare.personal#sound the alarms mare is rambling about her life dreams again#see the lifestyle factor of being a professor is very appealing to me. yes busy with interacting with students researching etc BUT#i would get institutional funding for that research and get to work with students WHICH. is immensely appealing.#also if i am not able to do advocacy in a way that is really lasting for whatever reason#the next best thing is trying to help other people do that. i think.#i'm seventeen so i definitely have time to sort this out. and obviously all this banks on circumstances#but. i don't know. i'm really excited for my future
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Private Professor - Max Verstappen
Words: 5,576
Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists.
Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!
Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon
At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.
It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.
At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.
Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.
It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.
Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.
“No girlfriend?”
Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?”
“Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing.
“I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.
He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.
It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.
The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.
His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.
They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.
She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.”
“Four?”
“We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”
It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.
His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.
“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”
Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?
Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.
Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.
It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.
Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.
It also leads to their biggest fight in years.
“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!”
“And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.”
She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.”
“Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.”
“Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?”
“You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”
“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?”
He nods.
“For our future kids?”
“Yes.”
“So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds.
He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.”
“Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.”
“I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.”
“No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses.
“Unless,” he encourages.
“If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.”
“No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.”
“Their first degree.”
He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?”
Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.”
His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.”
“First degree only.” She agrees.
It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?”
She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.”
“Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.”
“Not anytime soon at least.”
“I love you.” He murmurs.
“I love you too.”
Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.
The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.
So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.
She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.
The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.
It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.
Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.
“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.
“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone.
“No.”
Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,”
“No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.”
“I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears.
“You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.”
“Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs.
“I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course.”
When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.
Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.
“You’re drunk.”
“You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him.
“You’ve been crying.”
“Yeah.”
He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.”
“Yeah.”
He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?”
“That bad.” She nods.
At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.
“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly.
“You’re going to marry me.”
She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”
It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.
“I know I proposed early.”
She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.”
“Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours.
“Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.”
“Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.”
“Actually,”
“Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?”
She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it.
“Well, what did it say? The email.”
“Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.”
He kisses her before she can say anything else.
“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide.
“You know what that means right?”
He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her.
“I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.”
Blue eyes widen.
“And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”
Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.
It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.
“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.”
His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread.
“That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.”
“How I want to?”
“Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.”
“I’m not going to be cruel.”
“No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.”
His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?”
She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”
She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.
He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.
It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.
He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.
“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera.
“Charles. Safe flight?”
“Always. What do you have there?”
“Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?”
He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.
“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously.
He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.”
Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.”
Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.
“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page.
“The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says.
“Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?”
Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.
“Your engagement?”
“Your what?”
“Engaged?”
“Impossible.”
“Lies.”
The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.
“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it.
He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.
When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.
“Is this real?”
Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.”
“You’re really engaged.”
“Yes, Christian. I am.”
The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?”
“What?”
“The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.”
“No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption.
The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.
“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice.
“Yes.”
“And I never believed you.”
He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.”
Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.”
“Thank you.”
“But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?”
Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”
They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.
Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.
“You alright?”
She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.”
Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.”
“A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.
Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.
“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?”
Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.”
“It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max.
“Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side.
Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?”
“Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him.
Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.”
“Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.”
“Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles.
“It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything.
“Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It’s not.” She assures.
Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.
“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.”
She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.”
Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down.
“Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it.
She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.”
A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.”
Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.
It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.
“You told them you're a teacher.”
“I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.”
“I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look.
But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.”
“So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?”
Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”
@cixrosie @darleneslane @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @boiohboii @topguncultleader
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine
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