Alan Rickman x Plus-size Reader One-shots

I Love You

(Y/N) groans tiredly as she sends out the last email to her fellow lecturers and assistant staff members. 

"This day cannot end soon enough," she mumbles under her breath as she checks her wristwatch before her tired, red eyes trail towards the stack of end-of-year grade reports she has to fill in tomorrow. 

No rest for the wicked.

After switching off her computer, she stretches out in her office chair, rolling her neck from side to side, listening as the joints in her neck crackle. 

Her muscles are extremely tense, her neck stiff even. That's what you get for dealing with challenging second and third-year university students, not even to mention the difficult staff who demand to have their workload cut in half before Christmas time.

What do they think will happen if their workloads are cut in half and they don't finish with their lectures before the new year? (Y/N) will have to trot tail-between-legs to the Faculty of Higher Degree Assessment Committee and explain why her faculty is falling below par. 

It's a delicate game to try and keep everyone happy, and she hates playing office politics games. 

Aimlessly, while waiting for the worst of the evening traffic to die down before she hits the road, she scrolls through her messages on her phone, deciding to open on her boyfriend's name. 

AR: I may need your help with this caramel souffle recipe again.

(Y/N): What did you forget this time ;)

AR: I hope I didn't forget anything... It's just come out of the oven and it's looking... quite flat. 

(Y/N): Oven on the right temp?

AR: Baking on 180F. Should I have left it in longer?

(Y/N): Darling, that's supposed to be 180C. No wonder it's not come out right. Oven's far too cold. 

AR: Well... Why do they insist on writing the instructions in Celcius?

(Y/N): It's my SA recipe I sent you. We do everything in C... Would you like me to make them, love? You can pick it up at my flat tomorrow while I'm at work, on your way to Sheila's? 

AR: ...You're extremely busy this time of year, I cannot expect you to be baking souffles in your off-time. 

(Y/N): It's no trouble, really. I have all the ingredients at home. Besides, baking untangles the mess in my mind. Oh, let me just do it. Please? 

AR: If you do, just know that one of my kidneys is yours for the taking. Whenever you need it.

She chuckles quite loudly while re-reading that last line.

Alan has a dry and somewhat dark sense of humour which she finds absolutely intriguing. He is very good at making her laugh and always knows how to turn her mood around.

She sighs as she ponders his messages, the last being sent about three days ago. She's not heard from him yesterday and quite frankly, she misses him. 

She misses being in his company and hearing his heartfelt laughter. She misses holding his hand and feeling his warm body next to hers when they watch movies together on the sofa.

Perhaps she'll ask him if they can't do something together this coming weekend. The weather, although cold, is quite nice to be spending some time in the countryside.

She checks the time on her phone, gathering her things and haphazardly throwing them into her tan leather rucksack.

Her legs feel like lead as she drags herself down the corridor of her office.