Title: Undress
Pairing(s): Thomas Hunt x MC
Rating: T
Summery: Tensions grow high when MC decides to play a game with the professor. Thomas Hunt x MC.
Note: I wrote this a little while ago when I was still very heavily in the fandom. I have a few more if anyone is interested, too (please let me know!). The first sentence was a prompt I was given hence the italics. So please sit back, relax and enjoy this cheeky fic.
"Wait… Is that my shirt?!"
MC grins, the oversized white work shirt draped over her form casually as she sits at the breakfast table. "What? It was the only thing that I could find that was clean!"
Thomas shakes his head in disbelief. Sometimes he wondered why she had to be so incompetent at basic things like making sure her own clothes were clean. "When was the last time you did any washing?"
"You don't like me wearing your shirts?" MC asks innocently, before deciding to toy with him a little. She begins to unbutton the top two buttons of her shirt.
"What are you doing?"
Ignoring his question at first, she continues to unbutton the shirt she had been wearing. "Taking the shirt off since you seemingly have a problem with me wearing it."
"I never said that," Thomas responds, getting slightly flustered. The more buttons she undo's the more he shifts around in his chair he's now sitting in.
"MC," he warns, somehow feeling very lucky he was in his own pajamas and not in his work attire. He pushes his chair back and stands up before walking over to where she was sitting.
Stopping half way down unbuttoning the shirt, MC smirks knowing she has him exactly where she wants him.
"Am I doing something wrong?" she asks innocently, now noticing that he's moved and standing, looking down at her clearly uncomfortable.
Thomas grinds his teeth a little. "You know exactly what you're doing. Stop it right now."
The last word lingers in the air momentarily, before she stands up – the buttons on the shirt only half way undone exposing part of her cleavage. Now grinning, MC stands up leaning ever so slightly to whisper into his ear.
"Or what... Thomas?"
Oh this game. He gets it now.
"Or this," he calmly responds, placing his hands on her hips before kissing her neck softly, her satisfied groans filling the dining room. Two can play at this game, he inwardly smirks.
It's hard not to shiver at his touch and not instantly give into him. This game was one she surely couldn't win.
"On second thought, MC," he draws back ever so slightly, his lips a few inches from her ear. "You look better not wearing my shirts."