#check with your economics professor | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ugh-yoongi · 4 months ago

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ex-conomics | csc

you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

⚽ pairing: choi seungcheol x f. reader ⚽ genre: exes to (lite) enemies to lovers; university au; angst, fluff ⚽ rating: while there is nothing explicit in this fic, there are two brief references to smut. while i can't stop anyone from reading this, i would prefer minors do not interact with this or any of my work. ⚽ warnings: cheol is some degree of famous, reader is a grad student/TA, mentions of an injury and coping with the aftermath of it, lots of economics talk that even i do not understand, swearing, one mention of alcohol, some misplaced jealousy, rom-com tropes, dino is kind of a loser but we love him anyway. probably a lot of other things i missed, but this is actually pretty tame for a fic of this length. ⚽ word count: 13.4k ⚽ thank you: a lot of people looked this over for me in the process and i'm sure i will forget some of them so if i do i'm sorry: @the-boy-meets-evil, @hot-soop, @highvern, and @haologram, who also gave me some wonderful ideas for the vlogs. thank you to MIT for opencourseware existing. i took microeconomics and dropped it, so i couldn't have done this without you. everyone in the discord server for helping me along the way and keeping me motivated. ⚽ author's note: i haven't posted a fic in nearly seven months, so i think it goes without saying that there are parts of this i like and a lot more i'm not 100% happy with. i'd love if this was more fleshed out and 10k longer, but i was able to write anything at all so it's good enough. this was written for the back to school with seventeen collab, hosted by @camandemstudios. thank you both for letting me participate! please make sure to check out the rest of the stories! everyone worked so hard and this collab was a ton of fun to participate in. <3

You look down at the paper. Back up at who handed it to you. Down at the paper again.

“You’ve got to be joking.”

The poor freshman kid laughs, all nerves, and even though the sound is grating, you remember what it’s like to be forced into work study. How far away graduate school seemed; how large your professors loomed over you with all their power and knowledge and credentials; how you constantly felt like the dumbest person in nearly every room you walked into for four straight years.

“Um—”

You sigh, just barely resisting the urge to slam your head onto your desk. “I—it’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Your words do little to ease Freshman’s nerves. He’s still hunched over in the doorway of your office, wringing his hands as he shifts his weight back and forth, in for a lifetime of body pain with the way he’s squaring his shoulders. “You’re sure about this, though? Like, I’m really not being set up?”

“I don’t think so?” he offers, slowly starting to turn green right before your eyes. “Dr. Lee ga-gave me the paperwork himself, I don’t think he would’ve messed it up? Oh no, did I mess it up? Should I go back to Student Services and conf—”

Good god, this kid’s anxiety is gonna stink up your office for weeks. “No need!” you interject. “I’ll just…” Sign it, you want to say, but the longer you stare at the sheet of paper the quicker you’re losing your resolve.

TUTORING REQUEST FORM Student Name: Choi Seungcheol Degree: Undergraduate Major: Business Course: ECON04101 Introduction to Microeconomics Instructor: Lee Yeonseok, PhD. Recommended Tutoring: High (3-4 hours per week)

You curse under your breath. Of the two names on the paper, Dr. Lee’s does not come as a surprise. He’s a notorious hard-ass with an infamous attrition rate—most students don’t last more than a week in any of his classes—but he’s also the sole reason you were able to pay for someof your grad school tuition out of pocket with all the tutoring money you made.

That, however, was two years ago.

“Does he know I don’t tutor anymore?” Stupid question. The kid stares blankly back at you, as if to say I don’t know any more than the people in Student Services, let alone Dr. Lee. It is literally my first year here. “I’m Dr. Ahn’s TA this year. I’ve got my hands full with her bullsh… stuff—”

Immediately, you know you’ve said something wrong, because the kid’s eyes light up, all that previous anxiety disappearing like smoke. “Wait, the same Dr. Ahn that teaches the crypto course?”

“No, that one died,” you say quickly. Kid deflates. “Anyway, I don’t really tutor anymore, especially for econ. As you can see”—you gesture vaguely around the cramped four walls of your office—“they’ve upgraded me. They even put my name on a little placard by the door! Go look! They spelled it wrong! If that doesn’t sum up this university I don’t know what does.”

You heave another sigh. Try to school your face and tone into something that exudes professionalism and finality. “Look, I’m sorry I can’t help you. I tutored Dr. Lee’s students for, like, three years in undergrad so I’m sure they just… forgot that wasn’t my actual job here. Who’s in charge of tutoring these days? I’ll shoot them an email and explain all this.”

Freshman gives you a name, and it takes less than a second to find them in the employee directory. You expect that to be the end of it, but he’s still taking up space in your doorway. You quirk an eyebrow. “Yes?”

The hand-wringing returns, along with an embarrassed flush that disappears beneath the neckline of his school-branded sweatshirt. “I just—um. Maybe you could, uh. Send that now? Before I get back there?”

You blink. “Don’t you have to go all the way back across campus? How slow do you think I type?” He shrugs, and you give up on the idea of getting rid of him. “Fine. What’s your name, anyway?”

“Lee Chan. I’m a sophomore. Do you know that guy?”

“Oh. I thought for sure you were a freshman, but you’re gonna need to be more specific, Lee Chan, Sophomore.”

“The guy they want you to tutor.” You freeze. The guy they want you to tutor is—“Choi Seungcheol,” Chan tacks on, and, yeah, you know—knew, you correct yourself—someone with that name, once upon a time.

But there are a lot of Chois and a lot of Seungcheols. It’s been years since you’ve spoken to the Seungcheol you knew, and that was when he’d broken up with you to—“I heard he’s a football player? Well, used to be, I guess. The girls in the office were freaking out so I guess he’s pretty famous, but I don’t know anything about sports, do you? They said they have photocards of him. I thought they only did that for idols.”

You think about being kids together in Daegu. Think about the exasperated looks you’d share when your parents would drag the two of you to festivals: Palgongsan in the autumn, Biseulsan in the spring; transformation and rebirth. Think about being eight years old and watching your father cram into the small space of the Chois’ living room, standing around the TV with Seungcheol’s dad, shouting at Park Jonghwan. Daegu FC made the FA Cup quarterfinals that year, and you think, of everything, that’s what you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

You think about falling in love slowly. Sixteen and clueless, the pair of you were. Didn’t really know any different, just that you’d look at him and feel butterflies. That you’d hold hands in secret. Text beneath the dinner table. That you’d watch him on the football pitch and be consumed by pride. That the future felt impossibly far away, that life would never catch up to the two of you.

You think about all the football jargon you didn’t understand—the academies, the teams, the implications. You think about, I’m thinking about trying out for the FC Seoul U-18, I just don’t think there’s much more I can do here in Daegu. You think about replying, Oh, I applied to university there.

You remember thinking it must’ve been fate, how easy that had worked out. How easy that first hurdle had been overcome.

You think about how fast everything happened. The try-out, the acceptance, the explosion. Remember being unable to go anywhere those first few months without seeing Seungcheol’s face, touted as the next big thing. Think about applying for scholarships when he was applying for international visas. Think about studying for midterms when Seungcheol was studying English for interviews.

You think about the last few weeks of your relationship, when it felt like you were desperately trying to cling to ghosts. Think about how Seoul had once felt endlessly big, both in opportunity and size, and how it now felt suffocating. You think about, So you’re just giving up? Is that what you’re saying? Think about, I don’t know what else to do. It doesn’t feel fair to you.

You think about all the places you’ve watched him. On countless football pitches; shy glances in school hallways; in the passenger seat, wracked with nerves on the drive to Seoul; poised above you in bed, hairline dotted with sweat as he rolled his hips, telling you how much he loved you.

You think about watching him walk out the door, and how you never watched him again.

So you fire off your email, concise and to the point about why you can’t tutor Choi Seungcheol in Introduction to Microeconomics, and turn to Lee Chan, Sophomore.

“No,” you finally answer. “Never heard of him.”

For all intents and purposes, your rejection should’ve been the end of it.

A few days go by. You hold office hours, attend lectures, work on your thesis when you have both the time and the energy. Try to ignore the feeling of bees beneath your skin, anxiety needling each time you check your email. You were well within your right to decline the tutoring request, but you can’t help but feel like you’ve done something wrong. That someone somehow knows who Seungcheol was to you and will pull you up on it. That those girls who’d gushed about him to Chan are somewhere laughing at your expense.

But you don’t hear anything at all about it… until you do.

Sunday evening. You haven’t moved from your couch in hours, some variety show playing in the background, barely audible over your keyboard clacking. Much to your detriment, you don’t write many papers these days, so you’re out of practice. Feels like you haven’t done anything besides formulas in years, all of your academic knowledge reduced to fucking math, so you’re about ready to toss your laptop out the window long before the email even comes through.

You see, From: Lee Yeonseok. You see, Subject: Choi Seungcheol - Tutoring.

Your stomach plummets to the floor.

You scan the body quickly. You see the words personal favor… friend of his father… urgent matter… and your hands start shaking. Whether it’s from the sheer audacity of this man or anxiety, you aren’t sure, but it’s not like it matters. There aren’t a whole lot of people on campus brave or dumb enough to go up against him twice.

“Motherfucker,” you spit, bitter the only taste in your mouth.

Where did you go wrong to wind up here? You’d followed the script: got the grades, passed the exams, received half of the required education for the Respectable Career, helped a few others along the way chase dreams that may or may not have been their own. You’d fallen in love. Only had a broken heart to show for it, but that’d been in the script, too: The First Love, followed by The First Heartbreak.

The split from Seungcheol was supposed to have been the end of that chapter. You’d planned on never seeing him again, and you never would have, had it been up to you. Apparently the universe has other plans, participation required.

“Did you spill onion dip on the rug again?” You startle, sending your laptop flying. Kaori, your roommate, is perched halfway in between the living room and the kitchen like a cryptid, clearly not expecting your reaction. “Oh. Were you watching porn?”

Face burning, you fetch your laptop from the floor. “In a common area? Kaori, please, I have far more decorum than that.”

She snorts, resuming her trek to the fridge. “See, that’s what I thought, but then I walked out here and you threw your laptop so fast it was like watching my ex get caught watching furry porn all over again.” She pries the lid off a large container of yogurt. “You think this is still good?”

“Dunno. What’s it smell like?”

She sniffs it and pulls it back to check the label. “Vanilla, I think, which is concerning because it’s supposed to be strawberry.”

You shrug. “What’s the worst that can happen, you get extra”—you pause, trying to remember the correct order of things, before giving up entirely—“...biotics?”

“Mm, so close. Care if I just eat this with a spoon?”

Nose scrunched, you wave her off. “Couldn’t pay me to eat yogurt on a good day, let alone if it’s expired. All yours, babe.”

Spoon in hand and a pleased smile on her face, Kaori collapses onto the couch beside you. You try to return your attention to your paper, try to find your momentum again, and it works for all of ten minutes before you’re groaning and slamming the top closed.

You don’t even need to look over to know Kaori’s staring. “What’s up with you?” she asks. Before she can answer: “Wait, is this serious? Because I can’t have a serious conversation in this t-shirt.” You steal a glance sideways. Ask Me About My Hemorrhoid! it says, and you exhale loudly. “Don’t breathe at me, I lost a bet.”

“And continued wearing it?”

She jokingly rolls her eyes. “God forbid a girl has hobbies.” Nudges you with her foot. “C’mon, spill.”

Kaori doesn’t know about you and Seungcheol. Most people don’t, aside from a few old classmates from Daegu who found you on social media and tried befriending you once he started making a name for himself in Seoul. After that, it was just easier to keep things private while you were together. New friends knew you were seeing someone but not their name or how long you’d been together. Any curiosity surrounding why the Choi Seungcheol was following you on Insta had been waved away easily. Our parents are friends, we grew up together. Then you broke up, and there wasn’t any evidence to delete, and he wasn’t following you on Instagram anymore, and it was easier that way.

So, yeah—even though you hadn’t met her until years later, Kaori knows you have an ex. She knows you’ve had a few flings and situationships in the time since, too, and it’s why she’s none the wiser when you ask, “It’s nothing, really. Just—do you follow football at all?”

“Nah, not really. The new guy’s pretty into it and keeps trying to get me to watch the games with him, but it’s so fucking boring? I dunno, I can’t get into it. Not in real life, anyway—I binged all of Captain Tsubasa in an embarrassingly short amount of time, though. Why?”

“Student Services asked me to tutor someone the other day and I had to turn it down. I just don’t have the time, you know? This semester’s already killer, and Dr. Ahn’s been riding my ass nonstop about grades. Turns out it’s some football player, so Dr. Lee emailed me asking me to do it as a personal favor, which means, on top of all the other shit I have to do, I’m now tutoring some football player four hours a week in Microeconomics.”

Her face distorts. “God, that guy’s such a prick. Like wow, you’re good at the economy! Good for you! Who cares! Why don’t you go balance the national debt or something instead of torturing university freshmen!”

You also wrongly assume that’s the last you’ll hear of it from Kaori.

Two days later, after Student Services replies to your email with the days and times you’ll be tutoring Seungcheol, she materializes in the living room to harass you.

“You didn’t tell me your football player was Choi Seungcheol.”

The panic is instant. You know how she means it, but it’s not how your body interprets it. All of a sudden it feels like an interrogation, an accusation, and a whopping serving of guilt takes up residence in the middle of your chest for not being entirely honest.

“Explains this weird text Ken sent me.”

She slides her phone over to you, open to her text thread with her current flavor of the week. Beneath an article about Seungcheol enrolling in classes at your school:

doesn’t ur roomie TA there Why are you calling her “ur roomie” like you don’t know her name?? Rude. Also yes. ask her to get me an autograph No babe pls he was my fav player before he got injured No 🙄 fine. can i come over later? Starting to think you’re using me for my roommate. Get your own job 🙄

You hand her phone back. “I didn’t think you’d know who Choi Seungcheol even is.” It’s the best you can do, even though it just digs you a deeper grave. “You said you’re not into football.”

“I’m not, but unfortunately I am into that stupid man.” She sighs, wistful and longing. “Babe, you have to understand. His dick is so big.”

You hadn’t wanted to stay in Seoul for your graduate degree, let alone the same university you’d gone to for undergrad.

You’d applied to schools all over—Japan, Europe, even a few in the States. Romanticized the hell out of NYU, went window shopping for an overpriced apartment, picked a favorite pizzeria based on nothing but vibes and online reviews. In those few months after graduation, there wasn’t a whole lot tying you to Seoul. Your and Seungcheol’s relationship had been old history by then, your parents split. Your dad stayed in your childhood home and your mother moved a few hours closer to her sister. They’d waited until your brother was old enough to be out of the house.

And it’d just been… a lot. Overwhelming. Some days you could barely shower or feed yourself, let alone move halfway across the world, so you’d stayed in the familiar and tried not to let it feel like failure.

But the good thing about familiarity is you learn its tricks, figure out the hiding spots. Early on, your first or second week of grad school, you laid claim to a study room on a floor of the library everyone else ignored. You write notes on the whiteboard with faded blue markers that are still there days later. The chair on the opposite side of the table is always exactly where you left it, the space between it and the table enough to only accommodate you. Sometimes you leave books—old paperbacks littered with notes in your writing—or papers, just to see if they move.

They never do.

And all of this is why it feels like a punch to the gut when that sanctity is tainted. When you’re halfway through a stack of Dr. Ahn’s exams and the doorknob rattles behind you. When you don’t even need to turn around to know who it is, because he still sounds the same, still has that overwhelming presence. You’ve always sensed him before you felt him.

“There you are,” Dr. Lee says, ambling into the room before you can protest. He, too, is overwhelming, just in different ways. Immaculate posture that anchors his slight frame that’s always dressed impeccably and expensively. Wears a watch that’s triple your tuition. Shoes polished so bright they’re nearly blinding. “I’ve been looking all over for you.”

This time it is an accusation.

Well, you found me, you want to say, but just knowing Seungcheol is behind him, lingering in that half-study room, half-hallway space, is enough to keep you quiet. Like if you speak you’ll summon him closer and you’ll no longer be able to pretend this is nothing more than a nightmare.

You plaster on a polite smile. Say, “Ah, here I am, kyosu-nim,” and put all your energy into trying to glue Seungcheol to the floor with your mind.

Which is fruitless, because Dr. Lee moves further into the room. Gestures for Seungcheol to follow him with an impatient huff, and the study room is small, sure, and with three people it feels cramped, but that’s not the reason it feels like all the air’s been sucked out of the room.

Seungcheol looks… different. He looks as anxious as you feel, and he sticks close to the wall like he’s trying to disappear. Dr. Lee introduces him with grave importance, unaware of your history, and the forced smile he offers you almost looks embarrassed.

You know Dr. Lee is still hammering away, probably giving you a stern talking-to for rejecting his request the first time, but you can’t tear your eyes away from Seungcheol. Feels like the world around you has reduced to a pinhead, all hyperfocus; feels like your lungs are sucking in stale air one at a time.

“...his father is a very good friend of mine, so I expect…”

You expected to feel nothing. Seungcheol had left to chase his dream—one you’d always been so supportive of that it sometimes felt like your dream, too—and, perhaps naively, you thought the distance and the years would’ve been enough. You expected your heart to have hardened. You expected all those nights you spent crying to hit you at full force. You expected anger, hurt—indifference, at the very least.

“...as many hours per week as you both can manage…”

But you should’ve known better. Should’ve expected the butterflies, the way your palms grow clammy, the way your heart rate spikes. Should’ve expected everything to feel upside-down. You should’ve expected to look at Seungcheol and feel sixteen and in love all over again.

“...you are responsible for his academic progress…”

And that simply will not do. You’ve spent the last few years pulling yourself out of that hole, clawing your way back to something resembling normal. You’ve purged the thought of him from your mind—let his scent fade from your sheets, an old sweatshirt he’d left behind; forgot the way his lips felt against every inch of your skin; forgot the way his entire being lit up when he laughed; forgot the safety he encompassed, the way he whispered all those sweet nothings.

You cannot go there again.

So you roll your shoulders back, smile politely. Say, “Ah, kyosu-nim, Choi Seungcheol-ssi seems very intelligent, I’m sure he is capable of being responsible for his own academic standing, don’t you think?”

Dr. Lee cannot disagree without all but calling Seungcheol an idiot, so he hovers before you in shocked silence. Makes a show of huffing and checking his watch, like he’s all of a sudden remembered he’s late for something and being inconvenienced by this conversation he started, and then he’s halfway out of the library with a terse, “Discuss and figure this out amongst yourselves,” thrown over his shoulder.

You have an entire dramatic exit planned in your head. Gather your things, fake a phone call that makes you sound authoritative and important, and brush past Seungcheol wearing your nicest perfume as if all of this is so far beneath you you can’t even bring yourself to care about it.

Of course, you actually have to brush by him for any of that to happen, and since you’ve already decided you will not go there again, you quickly scribble your email address onto a piece of paper and slide it across the table at Seungcheol, who has steadfastly remained planted just outside the door. “Here’s my email. I don’t have time to discuss this right now.” Seungcheol cocks an eyebrow. You start throwing things into your bag haphazardly. You know you look frantic and affected, but there’s not much you can do about that. “What? Send me a copy of your syllabus and what you want to prioritize. It’ll be easier to get through this if we have a plan instead of winging it.”

He seems to catch on to your distaste because he mirrors it. Scoffs as he rolls his eyes and says, “Yeah, no use spending more time together than we have to,” and if you hadn’t gone years without speaking, you would’ve seen right through it.

But you did, so it stings all the same.

As it typically does, the planet keeps spinning after your run-in with Seungcheol.

You grade Dr. Ahn’s coursework. Try running off your anxiety at the gym, even though it’s pretty good at keeping pace with you these days. You meet Kaori’s maybe-boyfriend sneaking out of your apartment early in the morning and he has the good sense not to mention your ex, but you chalk that up to the mess of hickeys covering his neck and not any sense of social decorum.

Other people’s embarrassment saves you a ton of your own, you’ve come to learn.

Throughout all of this, Seungcheol only emails you once to send you his course syllabus. Doesn’t mention tutoring or provide you with his schedule or ask for yours, so when you’re sitting in a bar with your friends, three or four drinks deep and feeling a little petty, you forward him the original tutoring request and make sure to bold, underline, and highlight the “Recommended Tutoring: High” part for good measure.

He doesn’t take your bait—electronically, at least—but he does show up to your office hours the following Tuesday.

Bag tossed onto the floor, he flops unceremoniously into the chair across from you and says, in lieu of a greeting, “They spelled your name wrong. On the door thing.”

“I know,” you reply, your smile polite and terse. Incredible how he has the ability to raise your blood pressure in milliseconds. “What can I help you with?”

“Depends. How long do you have?”

“Well, considering you’ve shown up to my office hours on time, I’m assuming you already know I’m here every Tuesday and Thursday from four to six. So”—you glance at the clock above the door—“assuming no one comes by who needs my help more than you do, you have approximately one hour and fifty-eight minutes.”

Seungcheol is quiet for a moment as he takes you in. His stare is weighted; it makes you feel a little green around the edges. Clinical and sharp, so far removed from the way he used to look at you. You clear your throat. “I looked over your syllabus. The good news is there’s only a midterm and a final and the rest is problem sets. The bad news is there’s only a midterm and a final so they’re weighted quite heavily. You really need to know this stuff inside-out to have any hope of passing.”

“That’s why you’re here, right? Dr. Lee specifically requested you.”

You huff a breath through your nose. “I’m here as supplemental help. I can’t take your exams or do your readings for you. What else are you taking this semester?”

He sighs, sinking further into the chair, very much playing the part of the heir who has no interest in any of this. Which… is unlike him, you think, if you’re even allowed to. The Seungcheol you knew years ago took everything so seriously. Never clipped corners or took shortcuts. Anyone else would think him a spoiled, petulant child. “Business Accounting and International Trade.”

“Could be worse,” you note. “At least those three courses are tangentially related.”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes. “Easy for you to say. I haven’t taken a fucking math class in years.”

You return it. “You remember how to add and subtract, don’t you?”

“I ruptured my ACL, not my…” He trails off, looking a little embarrassed that he can’t name a part of the—“Brain.”

Whatever you were going to quip back with dies on your tongue. It's the first time Seungcheol has broached the topic of his injury—the first you’re hearing of it at all, actually—and he says it like it’s a joke, like it’s not a thing at all, but the pain is all over his face. The bitterness of the situation he’s found himself in. The unfairness of it all.

And there are so many questions you want to ask that aren’t your place: if it’s fixable, if he’ll ever play again, how he’s coping. But you don’t really need to—you can’t imagine how you’d feel if someone suddenly pulled the rug out from under you. If everything contained within the four walls of your office suddenly disappeared.

Not that the man sitting across from you hadn’t already done that, but.

“Right,” you continue, as if he hadn’t said anything at all. You know Seungcheol—know he wouldn’t want you prodding, sticking your fingers in that particular wound. “I want you to take a look at this,” you say, handing over a printout you have saved from your undergrad tutoring days. “Tell me what looks familiar, what doesn’t; what does and doesn’t make sense.”

He looks down at the paper. Back up at you. Down at the paper again. “What the fuck is this?”

“I—what? Cheol, it’s my old notes on recitation. Surely you’ve already covered this—the syllabus says this is week one stuff.” He looks down at the paper again, and it’s so familiar, watching the life drain entirely from someone’s eyes.

You barely resist the urge to slam your face onto your desk a second time.

You meet Seungcheol at the sports center for your next tutoring session.

He likes the humidity and the smell of the chlorine by the pool. He also likes that it’s not the football pitch, so the two of you sit in the bleachers there and go over his lecture notes. Much to your surprise, Seungcheol talks a mile a minute. Has stars in his eyes when he says he finally understands elastic demand curves, supply shock; tells you he spent a whole hour making flashcards.

It’s the first time you’ve seen him so excited since your tutoring began—the first glimmer of hope you’ve felt since Dr. Lee cornered you in your library hideaway. None of this surprises you. Seungcheol has always been smart, even when football was his primary (and sometimes only) focus. He has more determination and grit than anyone you’ve ever met, so you’re not surprised he’s doing well, excelling, but you are surprised—

“Can I ask you something?” Seungcheol shrugs, shoves half a protein bar in his mouth and swallows without chewing. “Why are you… uh. Here?”

“At this university?”

“Not exactly. I mean, I am wondering about that, but I guess… why business?”

Seungcheol hums. Tucks his good knee to his chest and stares down at the pool. No one’s using it, and truthfully the two of you probably aren’t even allowed to be here, but you understand why he likes it. It’s nowhere near as secluded as the library and definitely not as air conditioned, but it is peaceful. Calm. The water laps against the coping in quiet, small waves.

“Ah, I don’t know. You know how it goes.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Never, in all the years you’ve known him, has Seungcheol done anything he didn’t want to do. All that grit and determination. “What about your father, then? Dr. Lee mentioned this was a favor to him. He’s a pretty important person to have in your Rolodex of favors.”

Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see what this is: Seungcheol’s father has new money; worked from the bottom up, made some smart investment decisions that finally panned out after Seungcheol left for Seoul. Started doing his own thing, made a name for himself. Last you’d heard from your mother, Seungcheol’s brother was second-in-command. Hell, even your own brother did an internship there.

So you know what this is: a father helping his son after his dream was shattered, life turned upside-down. You can’t blame him, even if you’ve heard the whispers from all the way across campus. That Seungcheol is washed up now, trying to nepo his way into his father’s company because of it; that all he knows is sports and he should’ve stuck to that, what does he know about business, why is he the one Dr. Lee went out of his way to help.

Doesn’t stop any of them from smiling at him, though; doesn’t stop them from asking for autographs or selfies.

But you also know this isn’t something Seungcheol seems willing to discuss, so you crack a joke—“I mean, business. God, who’d wanna go into that?”—and go back to what he was willing to talk about.

You’ve never hated elastic demand curves so much in your life.

Deep in the throes of tutoring—when you can’t tell if it’s week two or week twelve—you make it back to your apartment just before ten, head pounding.

The door flies open just as you’re about to punch in the code, and there stands Ken, looking far more put-off than you’ve ever seen him. Looks defeated, if you’re being honest, like someone mopped up all his emotions and wrung them out like dirty dishwater.

“Oh, hi,” you say hesitantly. The man in front of you seems too much like a caged animal to let your guard down. “Everything okay?”

He aborts a nod halfway. Mutters an apology as he brushes by you and stalks down the hall, disappearing around the corner to the elevators. Usually he’s a talker—you haven’t been able to avoid a Seungcheol-related conversation in weeks—so you’re a little stunned. Stand there stupidly for a while, and that’s where Kaori finds you a moment later.

“You gonna stand out here all night, or…?”

“Oh—yeah, right.”

You follow her inside. Toe off your shoes and put them in the rack. Focus on the sound of the kettle whistling instead of the overbearing tension in the room. Drop your bag off in your room, throw on a sweatshirt three sizes too big and a comfy pair of socks. Rummage through the fridge for leftovers, contemplate what mindless show you’ll watch as you eat, and you do not, under any circumstances, ask Kaori what happened.

You don’t have to. You knew what this was going to be the first time Ken spent the night—the way he looked mortified to be meeting you in the shared kitchen at seven a.m., wearing a look that begged you not to tell your roommate he was sneaking out.

I, uh, have an early class, he’d said. You know how it is.

Maybe you should’ve called him on it then. Issued a warning-but-not-really. She’ll get attached if you don’t tell her. She should know it’s different for you, if it is.

But you’d convinced yourself it wasn’t your place. Kaori wouldn’t want you in her business like that, so you stayed quiet, just nodded before watching him slip his shoes on and close the door behind him so quietly you wouldn’t have known he left at all if you hadn’t been looking. Gone, just like a ghost.

So, yeah, you know exactly why your roommate looks haunted.

“I’m a few episodes behind on this if you want to watch with me,” you offer, pointing at the television with the remote. It’s a lie—you’ve never watched this show a day in your life, which Kaori seems to know—but she contemplates it nonetheless. “Also, my mom mailed us some cookies. I think they’re in the fridge.”

“Why are there cookies in the fridge?”

You huff a laugh. “They were outside the door this morning before I left for campus. I don’t know—just saw who the package was from and was like, oh, this must go in the fridge.”

She nods. Grabs the container and joins you on the couch. Sticks her feet beneath your butt and doesn’t mention a thing.

The closest she comes is a few days later. Catches you right before you head out to campus and asks how tutoring is going.

“Not bad, actually.”

Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes when she says, “That’s good. I’m glad things are going well for you two.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore makes his unexpected return at your office hours on an unsuspecting Tuesday.

“Can I help you?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just helps himself to the seat across from you. “Maybe,” comes his cryptic retort. “I was thinking about signing up for that crypto course next semester.”

You narrow your eyes. “No, you weren’t.”

He sighs. Looks a little panicked, like he can’t believe that didn’t work. “You’re right, you’re right. I, um—I wanted to come say thank you.” He pauses. “You know, for that… email you sent.”

You blink. “No, you didn’t.”

Lee Chan, Sophomore cracks immediately. Thunks his head on your desk and lets loose a pained sound. It nearly sounds like he’s wailing when he says, “I’m sorry! They put me up to it!”

What you’re able to piece together is this: Lee Chan, Sophomore has become a bit of a celebrity in the Student Services department ever since he met you, Choi Seungcheol’s tutor. And, like any smart, previously unpopular university student would do, he took advantage of it. Might’ve stretched the truth a little to make it sound like he knew more than he did, so now here he is, angling for information the girls with the photocards may or may not have paid him to get.

“They want to know about his girlfriend.”

“His what?”

What you’re able to piece together is also this: the Photocard Girls are certain Seungcheol is dating someone, based on little more than vibes. You suspect these vibes are their three degrees of separation, considering there was an abnormal amount of Change of Major files formed after his enrollment, but you tell Lee Chan that you don’t know anything and, even if you did, you wouldn’t put his business out there like that.

But some part of you still has this inexplicable urge to protect Seungcheol, so you match their offer with interest and tell him to say there’s nothing to report—not that you didn’t know, not that he couldn’t get anything out of you. Seungcheol isn’t dating anyone.

You don’t know if it’s true, but you figure that if it isn’t, he still deserves privacy.

Which is a notion you have trouble explaining a few hours later, when Seungcheol strolls into your office with a grease-stained paper bag full of cheese coin bread, offering one to you with a proud smile that drops slowly when you just stare in return.

“What’s wrong?”

Your mouth opens, closes, opens again. Nothing comes out, even though it should be simple. Some sophomore kid was just in here angling for information or the Student Services department is taking bets on whether or not you have a girlfriend would both suffice, but you cannot bring yourself to say the words.

What you settle on is, “Sorry, I just… had an interesting meeting before you got here.”

“Oh. Are you okay?”

You sigh. Tilt your head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It was about you, actually.”

Seungcheol chokes, starts stuttering over words you can’t make sense of. Says, “Me? Why? I passed my last exam—I mean, barely, but I still passed. And that wasn’t your fault! I didn’t study enough! I’ve been losing my mind over my International Trade class, that shit sucks—”

“It wasn’t about your grades, Cheol.”

“Oh.” Then, slowly, a lopsided, pleased smile overtakes his face. “Haven’t heard you call me Cheol in a while.”

“Seungcheol,” you correct.

He seems to forget all about the meeting. Tries again to offer you a coin bread before he threatens to eat them all himself, so you acquiesce mostly to shut him up, say you’ll bring the extras to Kaori. For some reason, you tell him about how much she’d loved the cookies your mom sent, and the nostalgia sets him off, gets him talking again, asking if they were the yakgwa she used to make when you two were kids.

They were, but you can’t seem to tell him that, either.

Seungcheol: sorry it’s last minute - running late. can you meet me at my place instead?

Seungcheol shared a location with you

You’re halfway to replying—I don’t think that’s appropriate—before you sigh and delete it. Midterms are only a few days away and you don’t have time to argue over where your tutoring sessions will be, so if Seungcheol wants to meet at his apartment that’s where you’ll meet him.

You read over the midterm notes on the train. Once, twice, and then a hundred more times until they’re nearly memorized, all so you can ignore the voice in the back of your head saying what a bad idea this is. That you have no business being on your way to your ex’s swanky part of town or integrating yourself into his life beyond tutoring at all. You shouldn’t know where he lives. Maybe you shouldn’t even have his phone number or answer his texts.

Not that there’s much you can do about it now, two stops away.

Seungcheol greets you warmly, if not a little rushed. Apologizes for the mess once you step inside, although it’s less “mess” and more “haven’t finished unpacking,” but there’s enough clear space to study at the dining table, so that’s where you set up, determined to keep things professional.

“Sorry again about this,” Seungcheol says, placing a can of cola in front of you as he takes the seat across. “I had to meet with my father and lost track of time, I guess.”

“Oh. How’s he doing?”

Seungcheol sighs, leans further back in the chair as runs a hand through his hair. A light brown, now. “Same as he always was, I guess. Talked about the business, about my brother. Can’t get him to shut up about that stuff most of the time.”

“The business is doing good, though.” You cough, clear your throat. “My, uh. My brother interned there during undergrad. I don’t know if your father told you that.”

You don’t know why you say it, because it’s clear from the brief flicker of pain on Seungcheol’s face that he hadn’t known, that no one had told him. And it hurts you too that they felt the need to keep it a secret, to protect Seungcheol from you even in tangential ways.

“He didn’t,” he admits, “but I’m sure he was happy to see him. He was, uh—he was glad to hear you’re my tutor. Said you were always smarter than all of us boys combined.”

You laugh. Hope it sounds casual instead of strained. “Well, no need to prove him right. Come on,” you say, tossing a study guide in his direction, “let’s get to work.”

Everything is alright for a while—nearly an hour at least. He has the formulas memorized and attributed to the correct equations. He can explain supply and demand, preference and utility, but things start to fall apart around budget constraints and constrained choice.

The formulas get mixed up. He grows frustrated when he doesn’t know the answers to your questions right away. Rolls his eyes and gets a little snappy when you correct him, try to explain things differently in a way he understands. At first he’s able to temper it, collect himself before things truly start spiraling out of control, but the longer the two of you sit there the more it all unravels.

He snaps, you snap back, and you can’t figure out why. You’ve survived this long in Seungcheol’s orbit even though you never thought you’d be around him again, and perhaps it was bound to explode eventually, but…

It’s the familiarity, you realize.

You and Seungcheol aren’t friends, though you’ve been playing at it for weeks now: meeting outside of the library or your office, the personal conversations bordering on reminiscing, being in his personal space. You don’t belong here. You don’t want to be his friend—you can’t be, not for real or pretend.

“That’s not what I’m say—”

“Then explain it better,” Seungcheol fires at you, eyebrows creasing. “You’re the tutor here.”

You roll your eyes. “I’m trying, okay? All I meant was—your answer isn’t wrong, but I know Dr. Lee and he’s going to want more than that in a response.”

“Right—not good enough, like I said.”

“I’m just asking you to expand on your answer—”

“And I’m telling you that’s all I’ve got. I’m not like you, all right? I don’t have all this shit just floating around in my head all the time. I’m not smart, I barely have any idea what’s going on half the time, and you sitting here being condescending about it is doing fuck-all to help.”

You inhale sharply, taken aback at the hostility in his voice. Suggest calling it for the night, say neither of you will be productive if you keep going like this, and neither of you bother to apologize.

So much of your relationship with Seungcheol was marred by clichés.

The two of you passing notes back and forth during class. You in the bleachers of all his games, screaming along to the team chants, waving a sign around with his name on it. Not realizing you had a crush on him at all until he liked someone else and it made your stomach hurt. Childhood friends turned lovers.

Another cliché: that it’s starting to feel like that all over again.

Seungcheol sits across from you in the library, econ textbook cracked in half in front of him as he pays no attention. Keeps grabbing his phone each time it vibrates across the table. Can’t fight the smile that forces its way onto his face when he reads whatever’s there.

Stupid, you think—both to do this and to think it’d play out any other way. Seungcheol left years ago. Probably lived ten lifetimes while he was away while you were here in this exact spot doing this exact thing. Barely lived half a life, just stuck your nose in textbooks and forced your way through.

“Cheol,” you say, trying to drag his attention back to the study guide. No use. He’s typing away, presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek as he responds. “Seungcheol,” you try again.

Also fruitless.

You have no claim here, you remind yourself—not to his time, not to him. He’s only here because someone else mandated it. You’re only here because someone else mandated it, but it stings all the same. Another reminder of what used to be, of what ended regardless of what you wanted. Another reminder that the role you used to play in his life is not the role you play now. That the space you used to take up created a vacancy, and eventually it was going to be filled.

And if this was anyone other than Seungcheol, if you were more emotionally evolved when it came to him, it wouldn’t gnaw at you as much. All of this would roll off your shoulders.

But it isn’t, and you’re not.

“If you’re not going to listen, then—”

“I am listening,” he interjects, but he’s not looking at you. Not looking at his textbook or his study guide. Keeps laughing and smiling at his phone, and it’s sick how bothered you are by it. That it feels like your stomach’s been turned inside-out with jealousy; with annoyance, because you don’t want to be here anyway, don’t want to do this anymore, and you’re wasting your time on someone who doesn’t appreciate it.

Perhaps he never did.

“What are we discussing, then?”

Still not looking up: “Consumer theory.”

You laugh—more a huff of air than anything, grin sardonically out of one corner of your mouth. Seungcheol sees none of it. “Wrong,” you answer, already expecting the way he shrugs it off. “I’m gonna skip ahead a few chapters, though. Consider it a freebie for your business class.”

It must be your tone that finally grabs his attention. Cutting, precise, purposeful. Seungcheol lowers his phone, quirks an eyebrow, wonders where this is going to go. It’s clear he’s pissed you off, that you’re itching for a fight. It’s clear the years of silence are finally coming to a head.

“Let’s talk about ROI. You know what that is?” You barely give him a second. “Return on investment. A performance measure used to evaluate the efficiency of an investment or compare the efficiency of several investments. So, let’s say I make one-hundred-thousand won on a ten-thousand won investment: my ROI is 90%. Are you following?”

He nods.

“Great, now let’s try something a bit more hypothetical.” You suck in a breath. “Let’s say I invest years of my adolescence into someone. A friend at first and then something more. Let’s say I played cheerleader, supported every hope and dream he had—went to every game, cheered him on, helped him practice his English. Held his hand and talked him down when the pressure felt overwhelming, when the only thing that felt inevitable was failure. Now, let’s say all I got in return was a stuttered, awkward apology as he dumped me and walked out the door. Let’s say that guy showed up again after years of silence just to once again waste my fucking time.”

The thing about pain is it’s not linear. What hurt five, ten years ago might not hurt today, but it might tomorrow; what hurt yesterday may never hurt again. The thing about pain is it lets you stick your head in the sand until it can’t anymore, and that’s where you are now: that window of time between Seungcheol walking out the door on the assumption you’d never see him again before he bulldozed his way back into your life has been slammed closed, locked up tight.

So you don’t even notice you’re crying until the room goes deathly silent and you can hear the drip drip drip of tears on paper. Until you watch Seungcheol’s hands flex and unflex in mid-air, stuck in that liminal space, wanting to reach out but knowing he has no right to. Until your chest aches so bad you’re sure you’re either about to break into stardust or cease to exist.

Until you say, “What, Choi Seungcheol, would you say my fucking return on investment was?” and he has nothing to say at all.

Kaori invites you to a party.

Just something small to celebrate the end of midterms and a classmate’s birthday. Nothing out of control or raucous, not even the kind of thing that’d earn a second glance from campus security. I won’t even make fun of you if you leave before eleven, is how she sold it to you, in addition to a small amount of begging and bargaining and a powerful set of puppy-dog eyes.

After everything the two of you have been through, you find it hard to say no.

So here you are, nearly eleven o’clock on a Friday, a cup of cheap beer in hand. A friend of a friend of a friend is wailing into a karaoke machine and although your ears are bleeding, it does feel nice for that to be your greatest worry. You aren’t thinking about your classes or how you’ve been prioritizing everyone else’s academic success. You aren’t thinking about whatever’s going on between Kaori and Ken. You aren’t thinking about Seungcheol.

At least you aren’t, until he walks through the door.

You’re going to continue not thinking about him at all—not about the fact he’s alone or how good he looks in a simple black T-shirt that’s a little taut in the shoulders. You’re not going to think about the way the air shifts, like the universe knows he’s important and is willing to accommodate. You’re not going to think about how Kaori catches your eye across the room, recognizes him from all her internet searches, and the way she mouths oh my god he’s so beefy at you.

You’re not going to think about how guilty you feel that she doesn’t know, because if you do you’re certain it’ll take over.

You watch Seungcheol work the room; watch as he floats between conversations, as strangers fall over themselves at the sight of him. How eager everyone is to give him something and how reluctant he is to take them. You watch as he winds up in the same circle as Kaori and how she must mention you, oh, your tutor is my roommate, because there’s a question in return before he turns and meets your gaze.

You wonder why the distance between you feels more insurmountable now than ever before.

Seungcheol finds you in your office.

It’s not a Tuesday or a Thursday, far later than four to six in the evening, but he doesn’t even bother knocking before he’s barreling in, stifling your space with his bad energy.

You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks. Not since the party, if that even counts. Hasn’t bothered to reply to any of your texts or emails, and that was just fine by you, if that’s how he wanted to act, but it isn’t until he’s brooding on the other side of your desk that you realize you’re still aggrieved, too. Feels a little too familiar, him leaving you behind and in the dark.

So you don’t mean to—typically have much more professionalism than this—but when he tosses a stapled stack of papers with a barely-passing grade on your desk and says, “This is your fault,” the words come automatically and without forethought.

“Fuck off, Seungcheol.” It’s not your words that take him by surprise; more so the roll of your eyes, the accompanying huff. The impression that all of this is beneath you and nothing more than a mere annoyance. That however affected you were two weeks ago is not how affected you are anymore. “That’s what happens when you blow off your tutoring for two weeks because you’re a coward.”

He laughs, incredulous; unable to help the sound the tumbles out of his mouth. “I’m a—I’m a coward?”

“Yes,” you reply, tone giving away nothing. All he sees is feigned nonchalance despite the hurricane you feel brewing beneath the surface. “This,” you continue, pinching the corner of the paper between your fingertips and disposing of it in the trashcan beneath your desk, “is all on you, but do please let me know if there’s anything else you’d like to blame me for. I’m all ears.”

You don’t miss it: the way Seungcheol’s eyes grow wide at your ‘I’m all.’ The way he thinks you’re going to punctuate that sentence with yours, and it nearly has bile rising in your throat. Makes you want to scream, rip at your hair. If the last few months have taught you anything, it’s that you are still hopelessly in love with the man across from you—the man that continues to leave before he’s left, always at your expense.

So, yeah—Seungcheol is a coward, but only when it comes to you.

But he doesn’t look much like one now, gripping so hard at the edge of your desk that his knuckles have gone white, baseball cap pulled down low enough his eyes are barely visible. He’s always been overwhelming, always carried himself with an exaggerated arrogance even when it wasn’t warranted, always took everything so seriously, and maybe that’s why you’d thought he’d treat you the same way. Take you seriously. Wouldn’t just throw it all away on a maybe thing, and that’s why it's been years and you still aren’t over it.

Maybe Seungcheol is a coward, and maybe so are you.

Because not once since he’s been back have you been able to say what you mean. Can’t seem to tell him about the anger, the hurt, the heartbreak. Played it all off as petty nonchalance because you foolishly thought that would hurt him, that you’ve been reduced to simmering ash, no hope left for a fire.

“I could never blame you for a goddamn thing,” he says, voice so deep you could drown in it.

You so desperately want to know. You don’t want to know anything at all. You want Seungcheol to explain everything to you in detail and spoil the ending, but only if it’s guaranteed to be happy. Enduring another loss like the first time—you’re not sure you can take it. Not after you two have crossed paths like this, because you’ve never quite believed in fate but you think that has to mean something. That so much time and life had transpired and you two came back together.

Today, though, it doesn’t look like you’re going to get any answers.

Seungcheol straightens, looms at full height. Digs into the pocket of his sweatpants and pulls out a thumb drive. Wordlessly, he hands it over, and then he’s gone just as abruptly as he’d arrived.

Again.

Kaori wants to spend the weekend moping, and you can’t come up with a good reason not to join her.

She doesn’t mention Ken once. Not when she’s sobbing over A Silent Voice and Toradora! after that. Not when she keeps glancing at her phone every couple minutes to see if she has any texts. Not when you—only halfway paying attention between grading and your own assignments—suggest ordering something for delivery, maybe that new burger place down the street you heard was good, and Kaori shuts it down so vehemently you can only assume it was Ken’s favorite place.

Kaori just cries over the man with the big dick she never expected to take so seriously, and not even your stonewalling makes her feel ashamed of it.

And there’s respectability in that kind of openness and vulnerability. At least whatever she’s feeling is honest; at least she can admit she’s sad. You think watching Kaori process her breakup might help you process yours too, years too late, so you suck in a breath and ask, “Can I tell you something or is now not a good time?”

Kaori looks over at you. Dabs a soggy tissue at her eyes. “Well, I guess it depends,” is her answer, and she doesn’t shy away from how waterlogged her voice sounds. “If you’re going to tell me you’re a Takasu and Kawashima shipper, maybe, but if it’s anything worse I’m not sure I could take it.”

“I—what? Who even are they?” She gives you a half-hearted thumbs up. You sigh in response, sink further into the couch. “It’s, uh.” Clear your throat. “Do you remember when we met sophomore year? At that party? And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything and you said, and I quote, why not, I have a sixth sense for this kind of thing and I know that guy will have a huge—”

She hides her face behind her hands. “Ew, god, yes I remember that. My dick whisperer era. How embarrassing.”

“Right. And I told you I wasn’t looking for anything because I’d just gotten out of something.”

“Not really by choice, if I remember correctly. I told you if it was quiet it should’ve been loud, and then you never talked about it again.”

You nod. “I—yeah, that sounds like something I would’ve said.” You suck in a deep breath. “Listen, this is probably gonna sound bad considering I did never talk about it again, but—”

“Hey,” Kaori says, nudging you with her foot. Meant to be comforting, somehow. “It’s okay. There’s a lot you don’t know about me, too… most of which I’m not sure you should, actually.”

A laugh forces its way out, gives you a nice reprieve from the anxiety of the conversation you’re about to have. The need to explain it all, the need for advice. Maybe it’s not her—or anyone else’s—business, but you think you’ve kept this to yourself long enough. You and Seungcheol loved each other, once, and it seems foolish that no one knows.

Maybe Kaori had been right. Maybe love should be shouted from the rooftops; exist out in the open. Maybe something hidden in the shadows can never thrive in the light, and you knew it back then, deep down, but now it seems so obvious.

You think back to a few days before the library. Think about how things didn’t feel good but they felt okay. Think about the frustrated crease between Seungcheol’s eyebrows as he stared down at his textbook and how all you’d wanted to do was smooth it. Think about how you’d rolled your lips and tried not to laugh; how you thought it’d take a miracle to help Seungcheol pass this class.

Think about: What is the difference between the short-run and the long-run from the perspective of production theory?

Think about the short-run of your and Seungcheol’s relationship—that you’d burned bright and fast, even though it’d felt like a million years. Hadn’t dared to consider the long-run because anything beyond that bubble felt impossible.

Think about: Which of the following is not a property of isoquants?

Think about the way Seungcheol’s eyes lit up when he knew the answer. That they’re always linear, he said, and you smiled at his enthusiasm, raised your hand to high-five him and dropped it when he hadn’t noticed.

You think about the explanation—isoquants can be linear when inputs are perfectly substitutable—and what those graphs look like. Downward sloping, left to right. Think about how the graphs change when the isoquants are perfect complements.

L-shaped. Less straight as the inputs become poorer substitutes.

You know what your and Seungcheol’s graph would’ve looked like back then.

So it’s easy, almost, to tell Kaori everything. You tell her about growing up in Daegu, about the smell of the azaleas at Biseulsan in the spring. You tell her about how your parents had befriended the neighbors, how they had a kid your age, that that kid was Seungcheol—yes, that Seungcheol.

She’s able to anticipate the rest from there, but you fill in the blanks of what she can’t: being sixteen and falling in love, holding hands, the clandestine notes. All those football matches and how your throat would be hoarse from cheering. How nauseous you’d felt applying to university in Seoul, how excited you were when Seungcheol said he was coming with you. That, after you arrived, it felt like you were living in fast-forward. Barely any time to breathe or adjust; no time to just be you and Seungcheol. You had to be a student, someone responsible; Seungcheol had to be a phenom.

“Could you feel it was going to happen?” Kaori asks, now sat ramrod straight, all her attention on you. “Like, did you know?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “Maybe I did? It’s hard to say now, all this time later. I know things definitely felt different, like life was pulling us in opposite directions.” You laugh, bitterness coloring the edges. “You couldn’t go two blocks without seeing him on some billboard, and I was just… normal, you know? I wasn’t some rising star athlete like he was, I just went to my classes. How was I supposed to compete with something like that?”

Your roommate hums, leans back into the pillows as she stares up at the ceiling. “I don’t think you were. Maybe that’s why Seungcheol was worried—maybe he felt like you were losing your own identity feeling like you had to keep up.”

You want to push back, argue that you weren’t, that you didn’t, but the truth is that it’s possible. That the shadows created by Seungcheol’s dreams were so massive you wouldn’t be surprised if they unintentionally swallowed you up. “It still wasn’t his choice to make,” you say, voice barely above a whisper.

And Kaori already knows all about your hurt, listened as you explained it all and laid everything bare. So when she says, “Sometimes that’s just how it goes, though, babe,” it doesn’t feel condescending. “We do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time. You can say now it wasn’t Seungcheol’s choice to make, because it’s been almost five years and you’ve made a life for yourself separate from him. But the—god, this is gonna sound so patronizing, I am so sorry—but you guys were so young. No one has it all figured out at that age.”

She snorts, runs a hand through her messy hair. “Shit, I’m nearly halfway to thirty and I still don’t know anything.” Adopts a frown. “What do you want now? Do you want closure? Want to try to fix things and become friends?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, biting at a hangnail. “He actually, um. The other day when he stopped by my office, he left me a USB drive? And before you ask, no I did not already look at it.”

“A USB drive? Who does this guy think he is, James Bond?” A pause. “Are you gonna look at it, though?”

You do.

Not until the silver, midnight light creeps in through your bedroom curtains and you’ve stared at the ceiling long enough; waited long enough for texts that never came, for divine intervention to, well, intervene. It never did—fair enough—so you decide to take fate by the reins. Grab your laptop, instant headache from the screen, stick the drive into the port.

It takes a second for it to load, but when it does: dozens of videos, organized by date. Vlogs, by the look of them—some from before your breakup but the majority of them from after.

You’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

You click on the first one: a month and a half before both of you moved to Seoul. A fresh-faced Seungcheol appears on your screen, cheeks still round with adolescence. He’s in his room back in Daegu, can’t get the camera angle right. Nostalgia hits you like a ton of bricks as it pans to the side, to the wall behind his bed, and you see all his old posters. Mostly football players you couldn’t name, some girl group he used to love, a few movies. Just below them are some of the notes you’d written him in school, and they’re all you can focus on as he talks about how excited he is for the move.

The next: a few weeks after you’d started classes. By then, Seungcheol was well into the swing of things with Seoul FC. Already a big fish in a small pond, tryout offers from European teams starting to roll in. You can hear yourself in the background stressing over your first exam, wishing a generational curse upon your calculus professor. In the video, Seungcheol laughs, whispers like he’s telling the camera a secret as he talks about how nervous he is for his future. I don’t know why, he says, but it just feels like everything is about to change.

There’s a long pause between that one and the next. You understand why when you look at the date: three months after your breakup. Your hands hover uselessly above your keyboard. Whatever answers you’ve been looking for the last few years are probably in this video, but you can’t bring yourself to open it. Not right away, at least.

You click on a different one at random. Seungcheol’s somewhere in Europe, judging from the language on the signs behind him. Snow falls quietly—whenever he filmed this, it must’ve been early. No one else is around, and he cracks a joke that it’s a good thing, people would probably think he was crazy if they saw him. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going but he narrates the entire walk: points out a cafe he’s grown to love. The way to get to his practice stadium from where he’s standing. Pauses near a restaurant and laughs ruefully, shakes his head, says, I don’t know why I’m telling you this, but one of my teammates set me up on a blind date here and I got stood up. You’d probably think that was funny.

(You do. It also makes your chest ache.)

One from two years ago: Seungcheol in a hotel room, clearly nervous. He raises his hand to wave at the camera and you can see the corners of his nails bitten raw. Dark circles beneath his eyes; cheekbones more pronounced than you’ve ever seen them. On the screen, Seungcheol sighs, rakes a hand through freshly-bleached hair. Sucks in a deep breath as he says, I’m so nervous. I’m so—so fucking nervous and I don’t. Fuck, I don’t know what to do. I want to call you because you always knew what to say but that’s so fucking selfish. God, we haven’t spoken in years, and it’s my—that’s my fault, I know, so I brought this all on myself. I just want to hear your voice.

Another from a week after that: the color’s returned to his face, and he’s recording from what looks like a penthouse apartment. Sleek, modern; a small white dog napping on the bed beside him. He smiles, looks like he got his teeth fixed, looks like he’s no longer carrying around the weight of the world. Talks endlessly and excitedly about some tournament. Talks so fast you can barely keep up. Talks around words tinged with languages you don’t understand.

Seungcheol wins a championship. Records a drunk vlog from the same night, hair soaked through with god-knows-what—water, champagne, you don’t know. But he looks radiant. Looks like the culmination of two decades of dreaming. He looks happy, free, at peace. He looks like the reason he let you go, why he had to go away.

You scroll to the bottom of the files. Pause at the last video, dated seven months before the term started.

“Hi,” he says, and you can immediately tell everything is all wrong. Seungcheol’s in the dark, face only visible enough to see the tears tracking on his cheeks. “This is going to be the last one of these I make. I don’t know if you, uh—I’m sure you aren’t paying attention to me—my career—anymore, but. I, um. I got hurt. Ruptured my ACL. They’re not sure I’ll…” A sob escapes him. Has you wanting to climb through the screen to hold him, thumb away his tears, tell him everything is going to be okay. “They don’t know if I’ll ever play again.”

Seungcheol no longer looks happy, free, at peace. “Maybe you’ll be happy to hear that,” he continues. “Maybe it’ll help you to know I threw away our relationship for nothing.”

Cut to black.

The sudden silence is deafening. Has you desperately clicking back to the video you’d skipped, the one from just after your breakup. Seungcheol looks the same in that one, too, like the life has been drained out of him.

I don’t know why I’m doing this. It’s not like I’ll ever show these to you now, since I…

I’m sure I owe you an explanation. To be honest, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just—things have been so hard, and I’m still trying to make sense of it all. I feel like my life went from zero to a hundred before I could even blink and now I’m scrambling. I didn’t think it was fair to—to drag you through that. Me being away, moving to an entirely different continent. I have faith we could do it, I just. I don’t know, baby, I don’t…

You deserve to have your own life. Be your own person. I’m so scared that the world will never see you for who you are—so beautiful and intelligent and kind. You don’t deserve to be reduced to my partner. And if you ever see this, I know you’re gonna roll your eyes. Probably call me a mean name because I took the choice away from you, because you think I’m trying to be selfless and heroic, and you’d be right. It’s not fair, and I wish I could tell you I’m sorry.

I wish I could just… pluck out my brain and give it to you, because even if it killed me to do it, at least it makes sense to me. And I don’t—I don’t want you to think I’m not hurting. I’ve been sick to my stomach since I left. I know I’m making a mistake, I know I am, I just—how do I do what I think is right in the long-run when it’s not what I want right now, or ever?

I don’t want to get over you. I don’t want you to get over me, and that’s how you know I’m not acting selflessly, because you should. I want you to always be happy, I just… wish it was with me.

So, I’m going to keep making these. I’m going to take you along for the ride, wherever it takes us, because you should be here but I can only hope you can one day understand why you’re not. I’m so—I’m so sorry, I don’t…

I’m sorry.

I love you.

You fall asleep and dream that you were the one meant to meet him at that restaurant.

The first thing you do is make a call to your mother.

“Could you send another container of yakgwa?”

On the other end of the line, your mother tuts, motherly intuition audibly kicking into overdrive. Is probably wearing that all-knowing, sly grin she always does when you try to be coy and evasive. “What happened to the last container I sent?”

“Ah, you know Kaori loves those. They barely lasted an hour after I told her what was in there.”

She hums an acknowledgement. Sounds like she takes a sip of tea. “I remember someone else being quite fond of those cookies, too.”

“Well, they are the most popular cookies in the country, so.”

After haranguing you into admitting they’re for Seungcheol and not your roommate, your mother promises to send them quickly. A few days at most, which buys you enough time to figure out how you’re going to approach the man in question.

The vlogs have turned your entire world upside-down. Answered questions you hadn’t even known you had. Took all that anger and resentment you’d been holding onto and set it free, and now you’re just left with… a void. Want to mend things, and it makes you wonder if such a thing is even possible, if it’s too late, but you don’t let those thoughts get very far.

Instead, you let them spur you into action. Have you sitting in front of your laptop at your desk, office hours long since over, silence creeping in the more the department empties. The thrum of the airconditioning and the tick-tick-tick of the clock are all the only company you have.

You worry if it’ll show on camera, how out of sorts you feel: sweating from the nerves, dabbing at your hairline; cheeks warm to the touch. But you suck in a breath anyway, steel yourself. Look at your webcam and the daunting red circle…

And start recording.

He hadn’t gotten it at first. Not really.

There’d been a container of yakgwa outside his door with his USB drive taped to the top of it. No note—not that he needed one to know who it was from, but he wasn’t sure what it was. A goodbye? A please fuck off forever and never contact me again?

He’d just taken them inside. Ate too many of the cookies while feeling sorry for himself. Maybe had a glass or two of wine to compound the issue, and never, ever considered contacting you. Didn’t think he could bear it if you never wanted to see him again, but he just…

Well, he was drunk and alone and he missed you, and he’d rewatched all those videos he recorded a million times before when he was like this, so what was a million and one?

It’d been the same as every time before: he smiled at the happy parts, cried at all his old wounds. Wanted to reach through the screen and strangle his past self for including that part about the blind date, because he never wanted to date anyone who wasn’t you, why would he say that, felt mortified at the thought of you watching that—

And then there it was.

All the way at the bottom. A new video. One that hadn’t been recorded by him—

Hi, Cheol, you say, and that’s all it takes to reduce him to a sobbing, yearning mess. I’m not sure what to say here. I don’t really record much—sometimes for lectures when the professors are too busy, but never anything personal like this, but I watched every single one you made for me and I thought I should return the favor.

I wanted to tell you everything I’ve been up to since you left, but it hasn’t been much. I got my degree. Tutored a lot in undergrad—the same thing I’m tutoring you in now, actually. I was good at it and it felt good to have something that was mine, you know? I almost moved for grad school. Thought for a while I was going to wind up in New York, but then my parents divorced and it felt like too much, too scary, so I stayed. Kaori also stayed, so we got an apartment together. It’s not much, definitely not as nice as your place, but it’s good enough.

I don’t think I ever told you, but she was seeing a guy for a bit and he was… obsessed with you, to say the least. Thought you were the coolest person in the world. They aren’t seeing each other anymore. Ended pretty badly, but—speaking of which, maybe steer clear of Student Services for a while, too.

Sometimes it felt like failure that I wound up staying here. That I had scholarships from all these far-away, prestigious places and didn’t take advantage of them. That I gave into my fear. And now… I don’t know. Maybe there’s a reason I stayed behind. Maybe there’s a reason you ended up back here, too.

Whatever happens—I don’t want you to think I still blame you. Kaori says we do the best we can with what we’ve got at the time, and I understand now that’s what you did. Even though it hurt me, you were trying to protect me. I get it now. And I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone. I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been to go to all these places you didn’t know. To have to deal with your injury, the loss of a dream.

You said in one of your videos that you just want me to be happy, and that’s all I want for you, too, whatever that looks like.

Here’s my address if you ever want to come by to talk.

I love you, too.

—and then he’d been up and out the door, feeling stone cold sober, running to the front of his building to wait for his ride.

Felt like the drive took hours. Must’ve hit every red light between his apartment and yours. Took the steps two at a time just to get to your door faster.

There’s a man already standing outside your door when he gets there. One that looks shocked to see him, stars in his eyes, and when Seungcheol says, “Oh, you must be Kaori’s ex,” he looks more like he wants the earth to swallow him whole. Embarrassed in front of his idol.

He knocks on your door and gets no response. Knocks again, harder this time, and he has to try really hard to stifle his laughter when your voice yells from the inside, “Fuck off, Kenji, I already told you she’s not here!”

“It’s me,” Seungcheol yells back.

There’s quiet again. Just enough time for it to feel like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest and follow Kaori’s ex down the hall.

Then you’re yanking the door open—slowly, so slowly, like you’re scared it’s not actually him. Your eyes are brimming with tears when they meet his own, and he doesn’t let himself think, just goes on instinct, when he grabs for you, hands on your cheeks, and presses his lips to yours.

Somehow you taste the same.

Somehow you taste like redemption.

You taste like home.

Seungcheol kisses you until the tears slow. Kisses you until the universe realigns, until he could map your mouth in the dark. Kisses you until all you’re all he knows again.

When he pulls away, you’re gripping at his sweatshirt, don’t want to let him go. He presses his forehead to yours, offers up a million more apologies, starts talking nonsense. Says he’s going to drop microeconomics, what the hell does he know, he barely has a passing grade anyway, what does it matter, he’s such an idiot—

And then you say, “You came back,” and nothing else matters.

“I always will.”

(Later on, as you’re trying to steady your breathing, slick with sweat, your thigh thrown over Seungcheol’s hip as he stares down at you, dopey smile on his face, you say, “Choi Seungcheol, don’t you dare drop that class. I have worked my ass off to get you to barely-passing.”)

if you’ve made it this far thank you so much for reading! i am still very new at writing for seventeen, so i hope this was acceptable. i'm now going to throw myself into the warped tour vernon fic and will hopefully not go another 7+ months without posting anything. 😭

i would love to hear your thoughts! <3

#seungcheol x reader #scoups x reader #seungcheol angst #seungcheol au #scoups angst #seungcheol imagines #scoups imagines #seventeen fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #jewel writes

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camandemstudios · 5 months ago

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🎞️ Cam&Em Studios Presents...

Cam [ @highvern] and Em [ @gyuswhore] are proud to welcome you into the 2024 academic year with the Seventeen TA Collab! Take a look at our Course Options collated by your favourite writers, taught by your favourite members!

📆 Choose your Class Times and Professors below!

‼️Some classes contain NSFW content, remember to check the warnings on each lecture before registering!

🎓MSc Economics: Choi Seungcheol & TA!reader

📋Course Name: ex-conomics by @ugh-yoongi

📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: you supported seungcheol through years of being an aspiring athlete, and all you got to show for it was your undergraduate degree and an awkward, stuttered apology when he dumped you to go semi-pro. now he’s back after an injury derailed his career, and there’s only one problem: you’re the only one available to tutor him. you - 0; the universe - 1. talk about no return on investment.

🎓MSc Structural Engineering: Yoon Jeonghan & TA!reader

📋Course Name: building blocks by @the-boy-meets-evil

✂️ Course Outline 📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: agreeing to be the teaching assistant is the last thing you want in a semester where you're already swamped with work. but, you need a letter of recommendation from the professor and you're out of other options. enter jeonghan, the menace who signs up for the class seemingly on a whim and disrupts your entire routine.

🎓M.A. Spanish: TA!Joshua Hong x reader

📋Course Name: How to be a Latin Lover by @haologram

✂️ Course Outline📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: the dreadful semester has started — meaning your summer vacation has come to end, and so has your summer fling…or has it?

🎓MSc Human Anatomy: Wen Junhui & TA!reader

📋Course Name: pulse points by @wheeboo

📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: Being the TA for your anatomy class has always been really rewarding, especially stemming in your passion for the medical field. But as it’s approaching the peak of the school semester and labs have gotten more intense, you aren’t surprised to be dedicating your time to tutoring your strangely handsome, dorky, yet enigmatic classmate during after school hours — and reassuring him how to not be afraid of dissections.

🎓MSc Zoology: TA!Kwon Soonyoung x reader

📋Course Name: Araneae by @haologram

📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: when you realize your friend (with benefits) actually has feelings for you, a tangled web of lies and avoidance ensues.

🎓MSc Chemistry: TA!Jeon Wonwoo & TA!reader

📋Course Name: endpoint by @highvern

✂️Course Outline 📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.

🎓MA Classics: TA!Lee Jihoon x Reader

📋Course Name: Oh, Agony! by @cheolism

📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: when you both find out that your boyfriend, lee jihoon, will be the ta for your classic literature class, it is agreed your relationship will take a temporary pause . no public dates, no pda; and, most tragically, no sex. nothing that can give away the truth to your relationship. only, it really is easier said than done.

🎓MSc Astronomy and Astrophysics: TA!Lee Seokmin & TA!reader

📋Course Name: Do Stars Collapse Into Black Holes, or Fall Into Something Unknown? by @idyllic-ghost

📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: Starting your second year of your master’s degree in astrophysics, and your first year as a TA, you were stressed enough - but the universe knows no bounds for your suffering. Seokmin, your handsome and annoyingly smart classmate, just had to become your colleague. As if you weren’t hard on yourself already, Seokmin’s presence only proved to fuel your self-loathing. But does he hate you too, or do you need to open your eyes and come back down to Earth?

🎓MSc Psychological Research: TA!Kim Mingyu & reader

📋Course Name: Statistically Speaking... by @gyuswhore

✂️ Course Outline 📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: In all your years of academic endurance, you’ve never failed. A 100% success rate, despite you cutting it close at times. However, the line graph that is your life starts tanking somewhere around the time you began taking this hellsent Statistics in Psychological Research class. With a professor that wouldn’t know his ass from his head, and an overworked, overenthusiastic, and overcaptivating TA, it couldn't possibly get any worse than this. However, statistically speaking,…it could.

🎓MFA Studio Art: TA!Xu Minghao x TA!Reader

📋Course Name: Perspective by @tomodachiii

✂️ Course Outline 📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: Xu Minghao hates you. You've been sure of it ever since you met him. And when you find yourself working alongside him as a teaching assistant for your painting professor, you think you might hate him too. But one late night, two semesters, and three exhibits later, you find your perspective beginning to shift.

🎓MSc Creative Writing: Boo Seungkwan & TA!reader

📋Course Name: Put It In Writing by @bitchlessdino

✂️ Course Outline 📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: You keep things professional--as you should--even if one of your students is someone you hooked up with one night before the college semester started. Meanwhile, Boo Seungkwan is anything but honest--he's a writer after all--but if he is honest about one thing, it's about wanting to write a new story with you.

🎓MS Computer Science: TA!Chwe Hansol x TA!Reader

📋Course Name: love between the lines by @etherealyoungk

📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: despite the initial nerves of your new gig as an english literature TA, you’re ready to tackle the new job. that’s where you meet vernon, the computer science TA, and he’s interesting to say the least. he’s all about coding and numbers while you live and breathe poetry and novels. it’s clear that you both have contrasting interests and personalities - but they say opposites attract, right?

🎓MSc Mathematics: Lee Chan x TA!Reader

📋Course Name: rates of change by @wqnwoos

📚Lecture Posted Here!

🖇️Course Overview: Your first semester as TA throws your previously unassuming college life into disarray, fuelled almost entirely by the brown-eyed and charming student who’s slipping closer to failing with every lecture. And in return for your mathematical assistance, Lee Chan decides he’s going to set you up with the guy you’ve been persistently pining over for a year and a half. It’s a simple equation: you teach him calculus, and he’ll teach you how to flirt. Except, as you’re both quick to discover, mathematical equations don’t translate over to real life as easily as you’d expect.

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kookooluvr · 2 months ago

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Teach Me How To Love - Part 1

pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers

genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.

summary: jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.

rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !

word count: 3.5k

warnings: fwb should be warning in itself, jungkook is a simp and a hot nerdy professor (yummm), oc has a tabby cat named miso, bam makes his first appearance, jungkook has a big ol' crush on oc, some unrequited romantic feelings (?) we're not sure yet, explicit sexual content; making out, kook has heart eyes for oc's boobs, five second strip show, like a split second of male masturbation, oral sex (male receiving), a teeny wheeny bit of fingering, oc rides that thang like a cowgirl, unprotected sex (oc is on birth control and they're both clean), plus some angsty vibes at the end :(((

author's note: part 1 is out my dudes !!! 😭😭 i hope you enjoy this little introduction to jungkook and oc, and i can't wait to start exploring their dynamic a little more in depth in the next parts!! i'm so excited to go on this journey with you all, so pls make sure to follow, reblog, and send me an ask if you want to chat about these cuties 🤪 part 2 coming soon !

find tmhtl masterlist here

It's the end of the day and Jungkook is on his way out, heading home after an exhausting day at the university. He walks down the corridor, his phone in hand, his eyes trained to his phone as he checks his emails.

You step out of your office, shutting the door and straightening your bag on your shoulder. You dig through it for your office keys, locking up once you find them. He looks up from his phone for a second and spots you, a smile tugging at his lips as he pockets his phone and walks over to you.

He leans against the wall next to your door, arms crossed, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. “Hey,” he murmurs with a little grin.

“Hey, Kook,” you greet softly, walking away to head home, Jungkook peeling himself off the wall to walk next to you.

“Long day?” he asks with a sympathetic smile.

You love your job, really, you do. But some days are draining and dealing with young adults who don't even know how to reference their sources for an essay or spell parliament properly can actually drive you to drink. “Mm, thank God the day's over,” you chuckle, looking over at him as you walk down the stone walkway together, the sun slowly starting to set on campus.

He chuckles, looking over at you to catch the way the golden hour light casts a pretty yellowish-orange glow over your skin, his eyes quickly diverting down to the ground to stop himself from staring, shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Hey, uhm...if you don't have any plans tonight, do you maybe wanna come over to my place?” he asks, feeling like an awkward teenager with a crush every time he asks you that, even if he's done it ten dozen times by now. He knows why he's inviting you over. You know why he's inviting you over.

“Yeah, sure,” you say casually, heading in the direction of the parking lot to get to your car. You see it in its usual parking spot, right next to his, just like it is every day, like a silent declaration that you're a package deal.

His heart really shouldn't do that weird thump-thump thing that it does every time you agree to come over, but it does, and it might just be heart disease, but he is yet to get it under control. “Cool...cool...Is 7 okay for you?” he asks, taking out his keys as he approaches his car, leaning against the driver's door with a little smile on his lips.

“Yeah, I'll just go home and change out of these clothes and feed Miso then I'll head over,” you murmur absentmindedly while you dig through your bag for your car keys, searching through the endless pit of earphones, a tangled phone charger, lip liner, lip gloss, and ten thousand receipts for things you don't even remember buying. He watches you with a faint smile, knowing how messy that bag is, but also knowing that if he lectures you about it, your response will be, 'you don't get it, you're not a woman' so he minds his business and stands by patiently.

“You can go, I'll manage,” you mumble, your eyebrows furrowed, a soft pout on your lips as you rummage through the leather bag. He chuckles and cocks his head to the side, finding it quite amusing. “You sure? I feel like I could find the cure for cancer before you find your keys in that thing.”

“You should quit teaching and go into comedy,” you mutter dryly, finally finding the damn keys. “Ha. Found it,” you quip, smiling sarcastically before unlocking the car. He shakes his head with a soft smile, rolling his eyes as he gets in his own car. He'll get you back for your sass, but he knows that his 'punishments’ feel more like a reward than anything else.

You go home and feed Miso, the grey tabby lounging around like she's the queen of your apartment, completely unbothered that you're only staying for a little while before eventually leaving again to get dicked down hang out with Jungkook. You put on some comfortable sweats and give her a few kisses and cuddles before heading over to Jungkook's place.

This is a regular thing for you guys. You remain professional at work, well, as professional as two people who are hooking up can be, and then you go over to his place, or vice versa, and sometimes there's wine, sometimes there's dinner, sometimes you go straight to the sexy part, or sometimes there's no sexy part at all because one of you just wants to talk or watch a movie. It works for you. It's easy. It feels good. Really good.

He's a good friend. He's kind, he's a good listener, and he's all those nice, sweet, lovely things. He's also really good in bed, which is always a bonus in a...friend.

Good friends offer to drive you home from the club when you've had one too many to drink. Good friends support you in times of need. Good friends go down on you until your legs shake. That's just how it is.

"Slow down, you're gonna choke," he chuckles, watching you stuff your face with Indian takeout. It's like a competitive sport when the two of you eat dinner, which is one of the things you like most about hanging out with Jungkook. There is no pressure to be perfect. You can act the way you really want to and not feel scrutinized for it. Maybe it's just because his big fat crush has completely tinted the way he sees you, but he'd happily watch you pig out if it means he gets to spend time alone with you.

“I thought you like it when I choke a little bit,” you tease, just wanting to get a reaction out of him, and that's exactly what you get. He nearly chokes on his food, his cheeks flushed, his eyes wide as he looks over at you.

“Jesus Christ, ___, you can't just say stuff like that,” he coughs, trying to compose himself, roughly clearing his throat to not die via chicken biryani. It’s quite a strange thing how he can go from this to a sex god in bed, not that it's anything for you to complain about.

Jungkook does the dishes after dinner which allows you to enjoy some alone time with Bam. The brown doberman plops down on the couch, practically begging to be cuddled. He’s always been quite fond of you, since Jungkook adopted him three years ago. He’s the sweetest boy. He loves being loved on, much like his father.

Jungkook watches as you give Bam “lovies” as you call it, the dog absolutely basking in the attention.

“I’m starting to think he likes you more than me,” Jungkook jokes with a scoff, smiling as Bam does his ‘sit/lay down’ tricks for you. What a showoff.

“He’s never gotten that comfortable with anyone who isn't me,” he murmurs with a soft smile, watching the two excited puppies in his living room. “He gets really excited when he knows you're coming over.”

“Bam, cut it out. I’m Miso’s mommy, she’s going to get jealous,” you playfully scold him, although the scratches you give him say otherwise. He’s just a doe-eyed, dark-haired, soft-hearted boy. Again, much like his father.

Jungkook finishes drying the dishes and practically shoves Bam out the way to get the same attention from you. He lays down on the couch with his head in your lap and you already know what he wants. You lightly scratch his scalp, watching his eyes flutter shut, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, relishing in the feeling of your fingers in his hair. Sex is great, but there's something about moments like this that just makes him want to get down on his knees and give you whatever you want, whenever you want it.

“I think Bam-ie’s upset,” you chuckle, looking over at him with a soft, apologetic smile, his father looking anything but sorry. He chuckles as he watches Bam quietly stroll back to the bedroom, his eyes fluttering shut once more when you do that thing with your nails that sends shivers down his spine.

“He’ll live,” he scoffs, wincing when you give his hair a firm tug, his lips puffing up into a pout.

You don't really remember how exactly you ended up on his lap with your hands in his hair and his lips peppering your jaw and neck with gentle, tender kisses, but you know that it feels good.

“We’ve been so busy lately, we’ve barely gotten a chance to do this,” he murmurs against your skin, his hands trailing up your thighs to rest at your hips.

You scoff, your eyes fluttering shut as he sucks on that sweet spot behind your ear. It's true. You’ve both been so busy with work that you haven't hung out or had sex in two weeks.

“I know. I’ve been relying on my vibrator.”

He feels a shrill of heat run through him at the thought of you pleasuring yourself, as if he hasn't already seen the actual thing live in-person.

“Yeah? Is he better than me?” he teases with a little grin, pressing soft kisses to your pulse point.

“First of all; she, and I mean…she gets the job done,” you tease, not wanting to outright admit that nothing and no one can make you cum the way he does.

“You couldn't have just said no?” he chuckles, leaning his head back to rest against the back of the couch, his eyes heavy-lidded as he looks up at you. “Maybe I should get myself a toy too…y’know, for when you're too busy,” he teases with a lazy grin.

“What, like a pocket pussy?” you laugh.

“Mm. Something like that.”

“I’d prefer you to be inside me instead of a fake vagina,” you quip, leaning in to press a feather-like kiss to his lips, just testing the waters a bit. “Are you gonna think of me when you use it?” you tease, batting your lashes the way you know makes him go a little weak.

He swallows thickly, nodding like he’s hypnotised. “Of course I’d think of you,” he murmurs, his hips bucking up in a sad attempt to get you to give him some friction. “It wouldn't compare to you though. Nothing compares to you.” His voice is soft and airy, sounding almost pathetic.

You feel a little smile tug at your lips, your resolve slowly slipping. He’s so open about his thoughts and feelings. He’s not afraid to be vulnerable and lay it all out there, even if it is just sex.

His heart does that stupid thump-thump thing again at the sight of your smile, but now really isn't the time to psychoanalyse that, so he pushes that thought away for later.

“Can you take this off for me?” He slips his fingers underneath the soft fabric of your sweatshirt, getting a bit antsy to see more of you.

He’s never really given it too much thought whether he’s an ass or tits typa guy, but when you pull your sweatshirt over your head and his eyes land on that black bra with the little pink bows, the one that you know he likes so much, he swears he’s never seen anything prettier.

“God, I love these.” He leans his head forward to press soft little kisses to the tops of your breasts, his hands trailing up the sides of your ribs. “My pretty girls.”

Your eyes fall shut, the butterflies starting to flutter in the pit of your stomach. Sex with him is so soft and sweet. He says nice things and he makes you feel good, both physically and emotionally, and that makes your anxiety spike just a tad, so you deflect.

“Do you always make conversation with a woman’s tits before you stick it in her or…?”

He chuckles, and it's deep and warm, a little comforting, like if hot cocoa had a voice.

“Take this off. Wanna see them,” he murmurs softly, lightly tugging at the strap of your bra to let it snap back against your skin.

You roll your eyes, but the faint smile on your lips tells him that you're more than happy to oblige. You reach back to unclasp it, letting the material fall from your body, his eyes growing a shade darker at your exposed skin.

He swirls his tongue around a nipple and sucks before repeating the same thing on the other side, giving both breasts the attention they deserve. His eyes flutter shut like he wants to savour every little moment with you.

You reluctantly get up off his lap, and before he can protest, you're discarding the rest of your clothing, sliding your sweatpants down your legs. He makes quick work of following your lead by removing his shirt and pants, his boxers following quickly behind.

You make a little show of removing your panties, and you would normally be embarrassed by the amount of moisture that has already accumulated inside the flimsy material, but right now, all you can focus on is his hand giving his cock a few lazy strokes while he watches you undress for him.

“C’mere.” He spreads his legs a bit, his cock already almost fully hard, the tip slowly turning a light shade of pink. You'd never thought of a cock as 'pretty' before, but damn, it's pretty.

You do as he says without a single protest or complaint, your pussy practically throbbing at the sight of him. Oh, how wonderful it is to be his friend.

You get down on your knees in front of him, his eyelids hanging low as he looks down at you, his hand pumping his cock.

You pride yourself in being good at oral sex, but it's never been something you particularly love doing. That is, until you started hooking up with Jungkook. Sometimes he’ll just be doing something as simple as watching a show on tv, and you’ll be on your knees with your hair up and his cock hitting the back of your throat. It's everything, from the sounds he makes, to the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part in ecstasy, that makes it so enjoyable.

You take over for him, giving his cock a few strokes before swirling your tongue around the head, pulling a deep groan from the back of his throat. You start sucking, working your way down his length, occasionally looking up to see that look on his face that makes your pussy clench. He rests his hand at the back of your head, not applying pressure, just wanting to feel more of you as you bob your head up and down a few times.

You give the tip some attention, then go all the way down to the base so that your nose just lightly brushes against his pelvis, then back up again, keeping a nice rhythm. His groans, paired with the way his stomach tenses every time you take him down to the base, is almost enough to make you cum right then and there.

“Fuck…baby, stop, please. Don't wanna cum too early,” he murmurs hoarsely, reaching for you to get up and straddle his lap. Your hips slide back and forth, your slick coating him, his dick glistening under the low light of the living room lamp.

“Already? Jesus, Jungkook, have some self-respect.” You can't help but tease him a bit, even in a moment like this, where you're in no position to be making fun of his desperation when you’re as wet as you are.

He scoffs, his hand disappearing between your legs, his middle and ring finger rubbing slow circles over your clit before sliding back to sink into your sopping entrance, shutting you right up.

“What? Cat got your tongue?” he teases with a lazy little grin, his fingers slowly pumping in and out, your wetness allowing him to move them without any resistance.

“Don't speak about my daughter at a time like this.”

His laughter gets cut off by your lips crashing into his, his fingers slipping out of you as you lift your hips to align the tip of his cock with your entrance.

“Want me to sit on it?”

“Yeah.” His voice is breathless as the anticipation slowly builds in his gut. No matter how many times you have sex, he’ll never get tired of that rush of adrenaline that flows through him in that moment right before he slides in.

“Ask nicely.”

“___, come on,” he laughs half-heartedly, tilting his head back against the couch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“Ask me nicely and I’ll sit down, Kook,” you whisper, leaning in so that your lips just barely graze against his.

“Please…please, baby. Ride me, please.”

The groan he lets out as you slowly sink down on his cock is enough to send shivers down your spine. It's thick and long, but it's not too big for it to hurt. It fits perfectly, nice and snug like a glove.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he mutters hoarsely, his hands gripping you harder as you begin to roll your hips in that fluid motion that makes him go a little crazy.

It feels like an honour that he gets to see you like this, naked on top of him, riding him deep and slow on his couch after a long day at work. He doesn't know what he ever did in his lifetime to deserve to be balls deep inside you on a Friday night, but he knows that he’s a lucky bastard.

“Just like that. Fuck, you're so tight,” he groans, looking down to watch the way your pussy sucks him in, like something out of a wet dream.

You set a nice pace, riding him just the way he likes it. You reach down to rub circles over your clit, your walls clenching around his cock, pulling soft moans and whimpers from his lips.

“Keep going,” he mutters, his voice trembling. “Fuck, you're gonna make me cum, baby…”

You ride a bit faster, applying more pressure to your clit as you chase your own high. He fights to keep his eyes open, desperately needing to watch you as the pleasure takes over.

“Fuck, Jungkook!” The pleasure creeps up on you and you cum with a breathless moan, your walls fluttering around his length, throbbing and pulsating.

“Gonna…holy shit…gonna cum, baby, don't stop…”

You use the last of your energy to bring him to his peak, moving your hips until his cock twitches and his muscles tense beneath you. He cums with a guttural groan, his fingers digging into your flesh so hard that it might bruise tomorrow.

You continue to grind down on him to help him ride it out. You gently run your fingers through his damp hair, his skin slightly dewy, his eyes squeezed shut. He trembles as the aftershocks flow through him, his breathing coming out a bit uneven.

He wraps his arms around you, holding you close to his chest, looking like he just died and came back to life. He lifts his head to press a soft kiss to your lips, but you pull away before he can deepen it.

“Come on, let go. I gotta go clean up.”

You very rarely allow him to cuddle you after sex. It feels too intimate, too romantic. You don't allow yourself to be romantic with Jungkook. He's not your boyfriend and you like it that way.

He lets out a small hum of disagreement as you lift yourself up, his hands moving to hold your waist.

"Stay here for a little longer," he mumbles softly, his voice drowsy. He looks at you with big doe eyes, trying to persuade you to stay. “Just a few more minutes.”

“You're starting to soften inside me and I have to shower, Kook. You know I hate feeling sticky.”

He reluctantly lets you go, groaning softly as you get up off his lap. "Fine, fine," he grumbles, his eyes following you as you walk over to the bathroom.

You walk off to his bathroom and close the door, locking it behind you. Locking the door is something so simple but it means so much. It means, 'You're not my boyfriend so we can't share that level of intimacy. You can fuck my brains out, but you can't wash my hair in the shower or sit on the toilet while I do my skincare'. It's too coupley.

Jungkook slowly puts his boxers back on, staring at the bathroom door. He knows he’s not your boyfriend. He knows he probably never will be. He knows all your boundaries and your rules and your reasons for having them, but that doesn't make it sting any less. He can't help but wonder what it would feel like if you actually allowed him to love you, but he knows he’s just being foolish and hopeful. He knows that by physically locking that door, you're locking him out of ever getting closer to you emotionally.

Part 2 >

#jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #fic: tmhtl #kookooluvr

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itneverendshere · 3 months ago

Text

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (six)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader; word count: 5.5k requested here; (one); (two); (three); (four); (five)

Being with Rafe was surprisingly easy, like slipping into a routine you didn’t know you’d been craving. It wasn’t over-the-top or dramatic; it was just normal—in the way that holding hands and sharing glances in crowded classrooms felt like the most natural thing in the world.

The guy who used to get under your skin, drive you absolutely crazy, and somehow, now, was making you melt with just one look? You didn’t know when your life turned into a rom-com, but you were pretty sure Rafe missed the part where he was supposed to stop being so intense the second the credits rolled.

But, no. He was always like this now. Kisses in between classes, pulling you into him like he’d forget how to breathe if you stepped too far away. And you were starting to crave it. The constant closeness, the feel of his hands on you.

Today, it was more of the same—Rafe slipping into the seat next to you during a boring afternoon lecture, sliding his arm around you like it was his assigned spot. Like he belonged there. You had barely settled in before he was leaning in close, his mouth brushing your temple in a casual, absentminded kiss.

“Didn’t you just see me twenty minutes ago?” you teased, glancing up at him.

“Yeah, and?” He didn’t bother to look up at the professor as he trailed his fingers down your arm, sending goosebumps in their wake.

“And,” you whispered, fighting to keep your smile in check, “maybe we should try to pay attention?”

He glanced down at you, that half-smirk playing on his lips. “You really wanna listen to this guy talk about the English 18th-century economic policies, or do you wanna tell me what you’re doing after class?”

“Rafe—”

“—Because I’m thinking we grab coffee and maybe—”

“Shhh!” you hissed, your cheeks heating when you realized a few people in front of you were turning around to look. You shot him a pointed look, mouthing, You’re going to get us kicked out.

He just grinned wider, completely unbothered, and leaned back in his seat, looking more amused than ever. “Fine, fine,” he whispered. “But only ‘cause you’re cute when you’re pretending to be all serious.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, settling back against him instead. It should have felt weird, being so openly affectionate like this, but somehow, it didn’t. You knew people were watching, whispering even—Is that really Rafe with her? Didn’t they used to, like, hate each other?—but he made it all feel so… normal.

He still made it impossible to focus, not dropping his touch from your skin.

“Are you even listening?”

“Not even a little.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting the grin threatening to break free. “You’re going to fail if you keep staring at me.”

He leaned closer, “Worth it. Plus I got a hot tutor to help me out.”

There it was again—that fluttery feeling in your stomach, the one that always seemed to come alive whenever he looked at you like that. You shifted in your seat, your leg brushing against his, and he tightened his grip on you, almost as if he knew what he was doing to you.

“Pay attention, Cameron.”

“Make me,” he shot back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“Rafe,” you looked around to make sure no one was watching. But of course, a few heads were already turned in your direction. People had started noticing the two of you—how he was always leaning closer, how his arm would always be slung around your shoulders whenever you sat together.

Just as you were about to elbow him the professor started handing back quizzes—the ones you both knew were worth 50% of your eventual final grade.

You were nervous, but not just for yourself. You knew how much these grades meant to Rafe. He wasn’t one to show it, but you could tell. He used to barely scrape by with D’s before you two started your deal. You’d spent so many nights going over chapters together, sometimes until the early hours of the morning, and you were hoping it all paid off. The professor reached your row, placing the papers face down on the desk in front of you and Rafe. You glanced at yours first—an A, not bad. But when you turned your head to peek at his, you froze.

Rafe had gotten a B.

You almost let out an excited squeal right there in the middle of the lecture hall but stopped yourself just in time. You turned to him, eyes wide, a huge grin spreading across your face. “Rafe, look!”

He was already smirking, casually flipping his paper back over, but you could tell he was trying to hide how pleased he was. “Yeah, I saw,” he said, all laid-back like it was no big deal. But the spark in his eyes said otherwise.

“B!” you tried to keep your voice as low as possible, but you couldn’t help it. “You’ve never gotten a B in this class!”

Last quiz he’d gotten a C, which was better... but a B in the last three quizzes? That was something.

“Thanks for the reminder,” he teased, nudging you with his shoulder, “Told you I’d get it together.”

“I told you you’d get it together,” you corrected.

He rolled his eyes, but you could see he was proud of himself. “And I told you I got a pretty good tutor, huh?”

You nudged him playfully. “Pretty good? You mean the best.”

You felt your heart swell at the look on his face. It wasn’t just about the grade—it was about the effort, the late-night study sessions, and the fact that he did care, even if he pretended not to.

But his touching was even worse between classes.

The second the lecture ended, he was on his feet, gathering his stuff with that effortless, laid-back confidence that made it seem like he wasn’t in a rush, even though you knew he couldn’t wait to get out of there.

“Ready?” He didn’t bother waiting for you to answer, just slipped his hand into yours and pulled you gently toward the door.

Out in the hallway, he barely gave you a second to find your footing before pulling you in close, his hand lifting to cradle your face as he pressed a kiss to your lips. Your pulse jumped, and you felt the familiar rush of heat rise to your cheeks, even though you should be used to it by now.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, feeling a little sheepish when he finally pulled back.

“What?” He gave you an innocent look that didn’t match the way his eyes were sparkling. “Can’t a guy kiss his soon-to-be- girlfriend after suffering through a lecture?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to look stern but failing miserably. “You know half the hallway is staring, right?”

“Let them.” He shrugged nonchalantly, lacing his fingers with yours like it was no big deal. Like being with you like this—in front of everyone—wasn’t the huge deal it still felt like to you.

The moment you paused by your locker, his hands were on your waist, spinning you to face him.

“Finally,” he murmured, dipping his head down to catch your lips in a kiss that was too much tongue and entirely too distracting for a busy hallway.

“Cameron,” you mumbled against his mouth, your fingers curling around his biceps. “We’re gonna be late.”

He hummed, lips not leaving yours. “Worth it,” he muttered, his hands sliding up your back, pressing you closer. “Always worth it.”

Your heart did a little flip, but you pulled back just enough to give him a look. “You said that in class, too.”

He grinned, looking completely unrepentant. “Yeah, and I meant it then, too.”

Your cheeks heated, and you shot him a half-hearted glare, hoping it covered up the way your purse sped up at the way he was looking at you.

The days blended together like that—Rafe’s hand on you somewhere always—whether it was his arm slung around your waist as you walked to class, his thumb brushing little circles on your knee when you were sitting across from each other in the library, or just… holding your hand, like he needed to feel your skin against his.

You were starting to forget what it felt like to not have him touching you. And maybe that should have scared you a little, but it didn’t. It was nice, easy. The way he’d press a kiss to your forehead before slipping into his own class, whisper something low and teasing when he caught you blushing, smirking at the way you tried to hide your smile.

After a long afternoon of half-hearted studying—thanks to Rafe’s wandering hands and that stupidly distracting grin—you found yourself back in your dorm room, tucked against him on your tiny bed, with a movie you weren’t even pretending to watch playing softly in the background.

It was cozy, almost too cozy. You’d ditched your jeans for a pair of shorts and borrowed one of his hoodies that still smelled faintly like him, and Rafe was propped up against the headboard, his legs tangled with yours. The smell of popcorn lingered in the air, but the bowl had been abandoned on your desk, long forgotten as you focused on something infinitely better.

Him.

You were still breathless from the last round of his kisses—his lips trailing down your neck, his thumb grazing against the line of your jaw as if he were memorizing it. And then his mouth had moved lower, his teeth nipping at your collarbone until you’d let out an embarrassingly needy sound that had him pulling back, smirking.

“What?” you’d huffed, feeling your cheeks flush.

“Nothing,” he’d murmured, “Just love seeing you like this.”

Like this?

You didn’t even know what he meant. All you knew was that he hadn’t stopped looking at you like that since, his eyes following every curve of your face, lingering on the way your lips parted as you tried to get your breathing under control.

“Focus,” you’d said, half-laughing, half-gasping. “We’re supposed to be studying.”

“Pretty sure I was learning a lot,” he’d countered as he ran a hand down your side, “Like how you’re really ticklish right here.”

And then his fingers had dug into your side, making you squirm and giggle, batting his hand away until you’d ended up tangled even closer together, his mouth pressing quick kisses along your cheek until you finally gave in, letting him kiss you again.

That’s how you’d ended up here now—his arm slung around your shoulders, his other hand playing with the ends of your hair as you half-watched whatever movie he’d picked. His chest was warm and solid against your back, and every now and then, he’d press a kiss to your hair.

“You’re gonna miss the whole movie,” he teased lightly, his voice rumbling against your ear.

“You’re the one who distracted me,” you pointed out, turning slightly to give him a look. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Hmm, fair,” he agreed, grinning lazily as his fingers traced random patterns on your thigh. “But I think I’d rather kiss you anyway.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Only for you,” And there it was again—that look, the one that made your breath hitch and your heart do a funny little backflip.

It was so easy to lose track of time like this—getting lost in him, the way his eyes softened whenever he looked at you, the warmth of his hand against your skin. You didn’t know how long you lay there, just soaking it all in, until he moved a little, turning slightly so he was looking right at you.

“Hey,” he reached up to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hey,” you whispered back, blinking up at him. He hesitated for a second and then he took a deep breath, looking way too serious for what you’d expected on a lazy night like this.

“Can I ask you something?” his thumb brushed softly against your cheek.

“Yeah, of course.”

“I, um…” He paused, looking almost… nervous? But that didn’t make sense. This was Rafe Cameron—the guy who never seemed fazed by anything. “I was thinking… I mean, we’ve been… you know.”

You blinked at him, trying to understand where he was going with this. “Rafe, you’re not making any sense.”

He let out a breathless laugh, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe himself.

“Right, sorry.” He looked down for a second, then met your eyes again, “I was just wondering if… if you’d want to be my girlfriend. Officially.”

Rafe? Nervous? Asking if you’d want to be his girlfriend? As if that wasn’t already painfully obvious.

You pressed your lips together, trying not to burst into a cackle as you pretended to think it over. “Hmmm…” you started slowly, watching the way his brow furrowed, like he was already second-guessing himself. “I dunno…”

He blinked, his grip on your waist tightening slightly. “Wait, unless you don’t want to? Because if that’s the case, I’m sorry—like, we don’t have to—”

“Rafe.” You cut him off, watching as his eyes darted between yours, full-on panicking now.

“I just thought… you know, since we’re always hanging out… and the kisses, I mean—unless you think they’re weird? I’m sorry, stop looking at me like that, please.”

You finally let out the laugh you’d been holding in.

“Really? You’re laughing at me now?”

“Cameron,” you said through a chuckle, “I’m already basically your girlfriend. You didn’t have to ask.”

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to look offended. “I’m being a gentleman here, okay? I—I know, okay? I know this isn’t the way people usually do it,” he rambled, suddenly looking adorably flustered. “I was going to do some big, stupid gesture, maybe show up with flowers or whatever, but… I thought about it, and I know you hate surprises, so I didn’t want to make a whole thing out of it and freak you out.” He paused, taking another deep breath, his hand tightening slightly around yours. “But I couldn’t wait anymore,” he admitted. “I just— I want it to be real. I want to be able to call you mine. For real.”

This wasn’t a casual question. This wasn’t some flirty comment in the hallway, something he could brush off if you didn’t react the way he wanted. He was serious. Completely, terrifyingly serious.

“You really—?”

“Yes,” he said immediately, leaning forward, “I really want this. You and me. No more of this ‘are-they-or-aren’t-they’ crap.”

The smile that spread across your face was blinding, “Okay. I’ll say yes for your sake.”

And then, he was kissing you—hard and fast and completely giddy, like he couldn’t believe it.

“God, you’re gonna make me crazy,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands cradling your face like he couldn’t get close enough. “My girl. You’re actually my girl.”

The second his lips were on yours again, all coherent thoughts went flying out of your head. It was like his mouth had some kind of superpower over you. t made everything else—every little doubt and worry—just… disappear.

“Oh my God, no. Wait. Tell me,” you said, sitting up a little so you could look at him better. “When did you realize you had feelings for me?”

Rafe’s hand was still brushing against your thigh as he looked down at you. “Like… three weeks into our deal.”

“Three weeks?!”

“Yeah,” he said it casually, like he hadn’t just dropped that little bomb on you. “We were about three weeks in. You were still going on about Nate, and I was, I don’t know. I started getting annoyed anytime you brought him up.”

You stared at him, trying to wrap your head around that. “So, while I was trying to figure out how to get Nate to like me, you were just… what? Secretly into me?”

He snickered, leaning back against the headboard, looking way too relaxed for someone who’d kept his feelings a secret for months.

“Pretty much.”

“You were such an ass to me back then,” you pointed out, still kind of shocked.

“Yeah, because I didn’t know what the hell to do with how I was feeling,” he admitted, “We acted like we hated each other for years. I didn’t just wake up one day and go, ‘Oh, maybe I like her.’ It took me a minute to figure it out.”

You were still processing. Three weeks in? That was barely when you started realizing he wasn’t the worst person in the world.

“So, what, you just... didn’t say anything?”

Rafe gave you a look, like you should’ve known better. “Of course not. What was I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know we’ve spent most of our lives hating each other, but now I’m kind of into you’?” He shook his head. “Besides, you were still all hung up on Nate.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands for a second. “Oh my God. That’s so embarrassing.”

“Nah,” he said, laughing softly as he pulled your hands away from your face. “It’s kinda cute, honestly. You had no idea.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You really waited until I was over my Nate phase to make a move, didn’t you?”

“Yup. I was patient,” he said, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “I was better for you anyway.”

Rafe was still so close, his lips hovering just above yours like he was waiting for you to make the move. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction—not yet. “You think you’re better for me, huh?”

“I know I am.”

You didn’t even have time to roll your eyes before he kissed you again, slowly at first, almost teasing, until his hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer. The way his lips moved against yours, the little rasp he let out when you kissed him back harder—it nearly sent your heart into cardiac arrest.

And then you ruined it. Because then, like always, that stupid little voice crept in. The one that wouldn’t just let you be happy. Yeah, it was perfect now, in your tiny dorm room where it was just the two of you and the outside world didn’t exist. But next week, you’d both be going home for spring break. And that voice kept whispering what you didn’t want to think about.

Back home, it wouldn’t just be the two of you anymore. No more bubble. Just the island. And everyone on it. All the stupid expectations and labels and… baggage.

Because you were you, the pogue girl who worked summers and knew every corner of The Cut like the back of her hand. And he was Rafe Cameron. Kook royalty. The guy who used to make it his personal mission to remind you of that difference every chance he got.

His friends? They were probably still the same assholes who’d laughed about it like you were something beneath them. What if they still did?

And what if—God, what if—he started to see it like that again too? Realize that all this wasn’t worth the hassle? He was always so sure here, like the past didn’t matter, like he wasn’t even that guy anymore, but… what if being back there, where everyone knew who you really were… changed things?

You pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss. He made a low, disappointed sound, eyes opening and immediately locking on yours, his hand still holding your jaw. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied, “I’m just… I keep thinking about… going home.”

His brows drew together, “What about it?”

“It’s just… things are different there,” you looked away even though his hand was gently turning your face back toward him.

“Different how?” he pressed, like he needed to figure out what was going on in your head.

“You know.” You bit your lip, taking a shaky breath. “You’re Rafe Cameron, Rafe. And I’m… I’m just—”

His jaw clenched, his fingers stilling against your skin. “No. Stop,” he said softly but firmly. “You’re not ‘just’ anything.”

“It’s true, though! I’m still that pogue girl to them. Your friends, your people—Kooks—they’re gonna look at me and see exactly what they used to. And even if they don’t say it, they’re thinking it. I can feel it, Rafe. And you—” You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “You can’t pretend that won’t matter.”

Suddenly, he was sitting up, practically towering over you, “Are you kidding me? You think I give a shit what they think?”

You blinked up at him, “Rafe—”

“No, seriously,” he went on, cutting you off, his hand still cradling your face like he was afraid you’d run if he let go. “I don’t care what they think. I don’t care what anyone thinks. I care about you.” He leaned closer, his eyes blazing as he held your gaze. “I’m not that guy anymore. I’m not… that Rafe.”

“But what if—”

“No ‘what ifs,’” he murmured, shaking his head, his thumb brushing over your cheek like he was wiping away an invisible tear. “I’m done pretending. I’m done worrying about who’s watching or what they’re saying. I don’t want to hide this. I don’t want to hide you. I’m not ashamed, okay?”

Your chest tightened painfully. “But what if being back there—”

“Baby, baby, baby,” he cut you off, voice soft but so steady, like he was trying to pull you back to him. “No. Don’t do this. I’m not letting you talk yourself out of this.” He leaned in, his forehead gently bumping against yours. “When I say I want you, I mean I want all of you. Here, home, everywhere. I want to show up with you at every party, every stupid get-together, holding your hand and daring anyone to say a word about it.”

Your breath hitched, feeling stupid tears prick at your eyes, “You—You really mean that?”

“I’m not going anywhere. Home changes nothing. We’re still us. You’re still mine.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, and he brushed it away, his lips hovering over yours.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

You were a goner after that.

Completely lost in the feel of his tongue slipping past your lips, his fingers teasing at the hem of your shirt. Your heart was practically doing somersaults when you pulled him closer, your nails scraping lightly across his bare back.

“Rafe,” you breathed, your voice barely more than a sigh as his hands roamed up under your top, fingertips skimming along the sensitive skin of your ribs. He made a low, satisfied sound against your lips, his grip tightening just enough to make you want to eat him whole. His thumbs brushed the underside of your bra, and you arched into him, chasing the touch like you were starved for it.

“Baby, you have no idea what you do to me,” he practically cooed, his voice all gravelly and wrecked as his mouth traced down the side of your neck, peppering kisses. “So fucking perfect—”

You tugged his hair lightly, just enough to make him look up at you again, a devilish smirk pulling at his lips. “You know, you’re supposed to be watching the movie,” you teased, breathless, not even pretending to sound convincing.

“Movie’s boring,” he purred, his hands slipping higher, thumb tracing over the lace of your bra. “I’m a lot more interested in you, pretty girl.”

Before you could even think of a comeback, his mouth was on yours again, needier this time. He kissed you like he was desperate, one of his hands sliding back down, gripping your waist as he dragged you onto his lap, and you could feel every lean muscle of his chest, the solid heat of his body pressed up against you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he grabbed a handful of your ass, holding you to him like you were the only thing that mattered.

You made a small, breathy sound as he explored your mouth, his hand sliding into your hair, cradling your face as he angled you just right, and you instinctively leaned into him, waiting more. He tilted your chin up slightly, and his tongue slid against yours, slick and probing, your mouths moving together in soft gasps and heavy breaths. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. You couldn’t believe this was the same guy who had been your first kiss just a month ago. You knew—knew—that if you kept this up, if you didn’t stop—

The door burst open.

“I swear, if I ever see that asshole again, I’m going to— Oh. Oh.”

You whipped around to see Ava standing in the doorway, looking like she was ready to throw hands, in all her pissed-off, storming-in glory. She was still wearing her cute little date outfit—red crop top, high-waisted jeans—but her hair was kind of a mess, and her lipstick was smudged, like she’d been fuming the entire walk over.

Rafe’s lips were swollen, red, a little glossy, and his hair was a mess from your fingers. But did he look embarrassed? Even the slightest bit ashamed that you’d just been caught practically swallowing each other’s faces?

Absolutely not.

But what made you actually gape was the fact that fact Ava didn’t even blink at the sight of you straddling Rafe, his shirt completely off, your own top halfway up your ribs. Instead, she just waved her hand dismissively, like she couldn’t care less that she’d just walked in on a borderline soft-core porno scene.

“What happened?” you asked, your voice still breathless as you tried to act like you hadn’t been moments away from letting him do whatever he wanted to you.

“I was saying—this fucker had the nerve to tell me that he thinks women shouldn’t split the bill because they don’t work as hard. Like, what the actual fuck?”

Rafe let out a loud, frustrated groan against your shoulder, his forehead dropping onto your collarbone as he muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You smothered a giggle, trying and failing to glare at him while Ava, completely oblivious, kept right on ranting.

“Seriously, I should’ve just walked out then and there, but noooo, I thought, be nice, Ava, don’t make a scene. And what does this prick do?” She threw her hands up, pacing back and forth as you slowly—very awkwardly—slipped off Rafe’s lap, tugging your hoodie back into place.

“Uh… what?” you asked, doing your absolute best to sound normal while Rafe buried his face against your neck, his shoulders shaking as he mumbled, “She’s such a fucking cockblock,” against your skin. You smacked the back of his head lightly, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“Shh,” you hissed at him, and he just grumbled something unintelligible, his lips still grazing your shoulder.

“Anyway!” Ava continued, still blissfully unaware. “The asshole pulls out coupons. Like, actual physical coupons. And then he tries to use one to get a free dessert, but surprise, surprise, it’s expired, so what does he do? Blames me. Me! Like I’m the one who asked to go to a place with coupons—”

“Jesus Christ,” Rafe sighed, finally lifting his head from your neck, giving her an exasperated look. “Does she ever stop talking?”

“Shut up,” you murmured, swatting his chest even as you tried not to giggle. Ava’s gaze flicked over to the two of you, her expression still murderously angry—but she still didn’t seem even a little fazed by the fact that Rafe was literally shirtless, looking like he’d been in the middle of something much more interesting.

“Anyway, so then he tries to say that he thinks I’m being too sensitive. Like, are you kidding? Sensitive? I should’ve shoved the damn breadsticks up his ass!”

Rafe let out a sound that was somewhere between a snort and a growl, dropping his head back onto your shoulder with a dramatic groan. “You’re killing me."

You giggled, shaking your head and patting his hair soothingly. “You’ll survive,” you murmured, still trying to keep a straight face. Ava was still pacing, muttering angrily under her breath.

“I swear to God, next time, I’m just bringing a taser. I’m not playing anymore. You think I’m being sensitive? Here, take 50,000 volts and let’s see how sensitive you feel after that—”

Rafe lifted his head again, looking between you and Ava with an expression that could only be described as done. “Can I kill her?” he asked flatly.

You smacked his shoulder again, laughing. “No, Rafe. Be nice.”

“I am being nice,” he shot back, giving you an incredulous look. “I’m suffering, babe. I’m over here, trying to—” He gestured between the two of you pointedly. “—and she’s giving me a freaking lecture on expired coupons.”

“I know,” you whispered, grinning as he groaned and dropped his head against your chest this time.

“Why do I even try?” he sighed, sounding utterly defeated.

“And then he actually thought he could just—”

Ava abruptly stopped mid-sentence, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene before her. Her attention flicked between you and Rafe, lingering on the way you were still nestled against him.

“Wait a second,” she said slowly, “What the hell just happened here?”

You felt your cheeks heat up as you shot a look at Rafe, who was now smirking like the cat who got the cream.

“Uh, nothing? Just a little... study break?” you stammered.

Ava crossed her arms, her eyebrow arched in that way that always made you feel like she was reading your mind. “Study break, huh?”

Rafe leaned back, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “What can I say? I’m a good tutor. A very hands-on tutor.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, suddenly serious.

“You better use protection, Cameron,” she warned, pointing a finger at him like a stern teacher. “I swear to God, if you get her pregnant—”

“AVA!” you exclaimed, mortified, covering your face with your hands. You could feel the heat radiating off your cheeks, and it was all you could do to not melt into the floor.

“What?” she said innocently, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Just looking out for my girl here. I mean, have you seen him? He’s trouble.”

Rafe, still unbothered, just laughed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “Yup, there she is,” he said, glancing at you with a cheeky glint in his eye.

You shot him a faux glare, then turned back to Ava, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You groaned, half-laughing, half-embarrassed. “Can we not talk about my potential future children right now?”

She just scooted right between you and Rafe, sitting in bed and throwing her legs over the blanket, settling in like she belonged there. You blinked, caught between amused and confused, as she wiggled down, practically cocooning herself.

"What are we watching?" Ava asked, completely ignoring the fact that she had become the ultimate third wheel.

You could see Rafe moving, trying to reclaim some form of contact with you. His arm was awkwardly hovering like he wasn’t sure what to do now that you were out of reach. You turned slightly—he was full-on pouting. His bottom lip stuck out just enough that you had to fight the urge to laugh.

“Uh, nothing now,” Rafe muttered, his voice full of that trademark grumpiness. “Can't even hold my girl.”

Ava just shrugged, completely unfazed, casually throwing an arm over your waist. “Oh, c’mon, you’ll survive one movie without being all over each other.” She glanced between you two like she was the voice of reason, which—let’s be real—she was not.

You shot Rafe a playful look, but he was still sulking, “Gonna start dragging you to my dorm.”

“Shup up Cameron, let me watch the movie.”

TAGLIST: @sxdghxstsbxxkshxlf @goddmie @voqueflms @mattyskies @maybankslover @psychocitylights @sunny1616 @bokutooooo @justafangirls-blog @cl4uus @persiar9 // if you asked me to tagged and i forgot iM SORRY <3 thank you all for the support!

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obeythebutler · 7 months ago

Note

For the fluff prompt, may I please have Lucifer and "making funny faces behind the computer while the other one is in a boring Zoom meeting" with Mc being the other one???

It starts small.

The most insignificant of details that the eye won't catch at first glance, but the brain notices something is amiss.

For starters, the pair of spectacles Lucifer always dons is sitting on his desk. You swear he was wearing them just a moment before—your eyebrows furrow—but then you divert your attention back to the screen. The demon continues with his paperwork.

End semester projects require regular progress checks. Your group members are done informing the professor of their progress, now it is your turn to speak up.

"We are done with our research," You say, involuntarily straightening your posture. "We have encountered several problems while trying to know more about the economic practices of the Devildom in the year 1121. Astarion and I have gathered what we could find and compiled it in the document attached in our recent email to you."

"And what is to be done next?" The demon asks.

Magoth speaks up, and you take the moment to grab the bottle of water next to you. You open the cap and take a sip, eyes darting behind the screen.

"We have already verified it from—"

You choke on the liquid in your throat.

Several voices of concern chime in through your speakers as you hack and cough. Hurriedly wiping your mouth, you splutter and blurt out words of assurance. The talking resumes, and your brain can't believe what it saw.

Lucifer, pouting as he stares into his phone, the device outstretched in his left hand. Puckered lips and and all.

"Don't." You mouth the words at the demon, who smirks and raises an eyebrow in challenge.

"This project will be submitted by the end of next month," You pipe in, voice confident of your group's ability to meet deadlines. "There's a survey also planned for extra credit, and Astarion has already formulated the questions."

"Very good! Ah, that reminds me, I've made a new email id—please mail me your survey results on..............."

You make the mistake of glancing at Lucifer.

You have to resist the urge to smile after.

He's winking at you now, comically so, and the demon looks ridiculous.

You mute your mic, and let yourself giggle. "Lucifer," You whine, "I'm in a meeting!"

"Can't I have a little fun now and then?" He says, picking up his pen again. "Besides, you should be focused on the meeting, and not on external variables."

You glare at the demon.

"MC?" Magoth chimes. "Are you trying to say something? Your mic's on mute."

You force yourself to make a polite smile. "Everything's alright! Just a little disturbance. Please, carry on."

You lean back on your chair. The sound of pen scribbling on paper makes for a suitable background noise, and you finally focus on the meeting being held.

You assume the demon has finally calmed down on his rare antics.

Progress is made, conclusions revised, and the meeting is wrapped up in the next twenty minutes.

You close your laptop after, and nearly jump in your seat.

Because there is Lucifer, eyebrows furrowed and a hand grabbing his chin. Lower lip being bitten by his teeth.

This time, you let yourself laugh freely.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me lucifer #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer x mc #obey me nightbringer #obey me fluff #omswd

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kookslastbutton · 2 years ago

Text

Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) || Series Masterlist

✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, slice of life series

Word count: 44k

Rating: M, 18+

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), lots of family drama, fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, therapy, sexual content, flashbacks + more specific warnings per chapter

Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, Heaven+

A/N: Ummm so I don't ever do series but....I can't help it this time :) big thing– jk is not a complete butt. This is not a "jk finally coming around after treating oc like garbage for wanting a kid". It's more of a we'll figure it out together kind thing, though there will be bumps in the road. Pls enjoy and lmk what you think 🥰

Chapters

༓ ch. I – "This eternal night with no end in sight" (4.1k)

༓ ch. II – "Just hold me silently like you did that day, that time" (5k)

༓ ch. III – “I could make it better” (3.3k)

༓ ch. IV – “I could hold you tighter” (4.1k)

༓ ch. V – “I can make it right” (3.3k)

༓ ch. VI – “Its you who gifted me the morning” (6.1k)

༓ ch. VII – “Can I now hold that hand?” (6.6k)

༓ ch. VIII – “Oh you're the light” (8.6k)

⤷ three month check-in

༓ epilogue: stargaze (4k)

Drabbles

↪ Surprising each other with gifts on the same day (requested)

↪ Jungkook proposing after two years of dating (requested)

↪ Happy Birthday, My Love - recreating Love 911 kiss scene (requested)

note: if you would like to request a drabble lmk ☺💗

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 year ago

Text

Academic Rivals

michael gavey x reader

summary: a partner project in the library leads to heightened emotions

A/N: a request from my dearest belie boo! hope you enjoy @valeskafics !!

TW: smut!, semi-public sex, degradation, hate-fucking, misogyny, michael is a little perv actually

word count: 1,788 words

You despise Michael Gavey. The smug bastard sits right next to you in history and the two of you constantly compete for top of the class. You’ll be the first one to admit that he’d have you beat in any math class but history is yours. The worst part of it is that your professor encourages the rivalry, insisting that it’s ‘healthy competition’. Which is why you’re currently (very apprehensively) making your way to the library to work on your partnered essay with Michael.

You don’t want to make it easy on him though so you strut in, ten minutes late with an iced coffee in your hand. You’re dressed in a sweater and a very short plaid skirt with black thigh highs that just reach under the hem of it. His eyes glance over you almost too quickly, like he’s trying to avoid your gaze.

“You’re late.” He says while looking at his notes.

“This part of the library wasn’t easy to find.” You look around and there isn’t a single person in your line of sight. “Maybe that’s why it’s so dead in here.”

He scoffs. “Or perhaps you’re late because you stopped to get overpriced coffee on the way. Whatever you’re drinking is more sugar than coffee anyhow.”

“So hateful today.” I tease.

“If you spent more time focusing on punctuality then I wouldn’t need to be.” He says pompously. “Get out your notes. I need your contributions for the analysis of economics during the 18th century.”

“In a moment.” You say as you pull out your compact mirror instead of your notes so you can check your hair. You don’t particularly care how it looks at the moment but you know your primping will piss him off.

“Did you even do your research or were you too focused with your own vanity to get the work done?” He asks in a snarky tone and your eyes dart up to meet his.

“Just because I enjoy putting an effort into looking good doesn’t mean i’m an airhead. Of course I did my research.” You say with a roll of your pretty eyes. Michael thinks you look particularly pretty when you’re angry.

“How should I have known any different? You spend more time worrying about getting attention than your studies. It’s pathetic really. You have so much potential, yet you let your feminine interests dominate you.” He says with a mock look of pity.

“Oh you poor thing. If my ‘feminine interests’ seem to dominate my life then why do I have the highest mark in our class? Shouldn’t you have the highest mark if you dedicate all your time to your studies?” You give him a sweet little smile and he is mortified at the way it makes his cock harden.

“History is hardly my top priority when i’m in much more academically challenging classes and I was top of the class last week so it won’t be long before I overtake you again anyhow.” He tries to act nonchalant but you can tell your words got to him.

“It’s probably difficult for you to do as well as you could when you spend most of the class staring at me.” You say and feel a sense of accomplishment when his cheeks turn crimson red.

“I only look at you because you spend all class talking and giving your half-brained takes on the French Revolution.” He retorts but his words are a little clumsy.

“Then why are you blushing?”

“It’s hot in here.” He says firmly.

“It is a little hot in here.” Your tone is casual but he can sense the mischief in your voice. His eyes widen as you shrug off your sweater to reveal a tight, white camisole underneath and because it isn’t really that warm in the library, your nipples harden under the garment and they poke through the fabric. “Something wrong, Michael?” You ask sweetly, noticing how his eyes are glued to your perky tits.

“No, of course not.” He answers too quickly and you smirk at him.

You stand up and walk over to his side of the table and sit on it right next to him, so your thigh could almost brush his arm. He can now clearly see the lacy hem off your stockings. “You’re so flustered. It’s pathetic.” You say a little cruelly and he stands abruptly, his chair almost tipping back.

“You’re a bitch.” He spits back at you.

“That’s no way to speak to a woman, Gavey. What would your mother think?”

He just glares at you for a moment and you can’t tell if it’s hate or lust burning in his eyes. You realize quickly that it’s the latter when he grips the back of your hair and forces your mouth to his. Michael presses himself against you and you can feel how painfully hard he is in his trousers as he kisses you roughly. You hate to say that you kiss back, enjoying how sloppy and inexperienced he is, although full of emotion.

He parts his mouth from yours but stays slotted between your thighs. He looks almost nervous, like he half expects you to slap him and leave. He’s fucking delighted when you roll your hips gently against his instead. The math nerd has never touched a woman before but he’s more than ready to grasp the opportunity. He slips both his hands right up your top and groans when he feels your soft tits. He massages them and you whine, lifting your shirt for him so he can see exactly what he’s doing.

“Oh, God.” He murmurs as he rolls your nipples between his fingers.

“Have you ever been within two feet of a woman?” You ask him with a cruel little smirk but then you squeak as he pinches your nipple hard. “Ow! Fuck, Michael.” You whine.

“You fucking slut.” He murmurs and you can’t tell if it’s a term of endearment or just plain old misogyny. “Always have some bratty little remark to say.”

Your eyes glaze over a little and you pout at the way he looks at you. You would never think that a virgin could act so dominant.

He looks like he’s fighting some conflict in his mind before he speaks. “Now, you’re going to take your underwear off and bend over the table… then i’m going to fuck you.” He says it like it’s a command but it’s almost as if he’s trying to breathe a dream into reality. When you obey him, his eyes widen and he begins to make quick work on the removal of his belt. He can hardly believe that a woman as hot as you just listened to him, that a woman who seems to despise him with every inch of her being has just bent over a table, waiting to be fucked by him.

He lifts up your skirt, feeling more bricked than he’s ever been as he rubs his hand over your ass. He gives a firm slap to your right cheek just to see how you’d react and he’s pleased when you whimper. Michael runs his fingers through your folds as he finally releases his cock from his pants. He pumps himself as he rubs you, enjoying how wet you are, knowing it means you like it.

“Jesus, Michael, are you gonna stand there all day or are you going to fuck me?” You barely manage to get the question out when he decides to slam himself, balls deep, inside of you. You whine out as you try to get used to how big he is. You really didn’t expect him to be so hung.

All he can do is think to himself, don’t cum, don’t cum, don’t cum. As he tries to block out the sound of your voice so he doesn’t spill himself inside you prematurely.

“Michael…” You whimper out, not even knowing why you’re saying his name.

“Shut the fuck up.” He murmurs before beginning to move himself in and out of you. “Little fucking brat, thinking you’re smarter than me.” He starts to thrust harder. “I’m the smartest person in this entire fucking school.”

His cock is slamming in and out of you at this point and all you can do is let out little moans from how roughly he’s treating you.

“Say it. Say i’m the smartest person in the school.”

“Fuck you, asshole.” You manage to groan out from under him.

He grins. “That’s my job.” Michael may have never had sex before this but he sure as hell knows how the woman’s body works. So, his fingers snake around your front so he can roll your clit between his fingers. You let out a strangled gasp. “Say it. Now.”

“You’re the… smartest… person… in the school.” He punctuates your words with his thrusts as his hips slam against yours, making you stutter at every other word.

“Good girl.” He says smugly.

You give him no warning when you cum and the way your pussy squeezes and convulses around his cock almost makes him fall to his knees and pray to God in thanks. He cums instantly after you, not having the self control to hold it back anymore and not having the will to pull out as he spills deep inside of you.

He now fully contextualizes the fact that, no matter if it’s a deserted section, the two of you are still in the library. He pulls himself out quickly and you whine at the abruptness of it all as he swiftly begins to clothe himself.

“Get dressed!” He urges but you can hardly do more than lie there after being fucked so hard.

You move slowly as you pull up your panties and fix your skirt and top, your thigh-highs looking rumpled.

“We’re going to be expelled!” He panics as he kneels down to straighten up your thigh-highs for you.

“Nobody saw and there’s no cameras in here.” You say as you manage to pull yourself together enough to roll your eyes.

“T-This is your fault!” He exclaims.

Post-nut spiralling i guess.

“My fault?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Yes, it's your fault! You seduced me!” He gets his things together, his face one shade off of a tomato.

“Then it won’t happen again.” You say simply. His face drops.

“Whatever.” He seems to have calmed down a bit, slightly irritated by your words.

You sigh and decide that it’s best to leave while you’re ahead.

“Goodbye, Michael.” You say in a sing-songy tone as you strut away, now leaving him as the dazed one.

“B-But we didn’t start the essay!” Is all he can get out before you turn around the corner and out of his sight.

taglist (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 7 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey

sorry if y'all only wanted to be on my hotd taglist i forget

#michael gavey x reader #michael gavey smut #michael gavey #ewan mitchell #ewanverse #saltburn #saltburn smut

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wonder-innie · 24 days ago

Text

magic, blood and lies (tvdu)

vampire!jay x witch!reader (the vampire diaries universe)

— ; A year ago, you discovered you were a witch, and your grandmother taught you that vampires are dangerous monsters. Now, on your first day at university, you meet Jay, a mysterious guy who questions everything you thought you knew.

word count: 7k

t.w: alcohol, death, heeseung is a jerk, harry potter and twilight references. lmk if i forgot smth

—> how does the vampire diaries universe work?

a.n: english is not my first language. check my masterlist.

a.n 2: i may do a part 2 if you guys like this :)

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

It was the first week of September, marking the beginning of your first year in college. You were excited to say the least, you have always dreamed of living the typical university life; hanging out with your friends, fraternity parties, going out with the hottest guys on campus and stuff like that.

Your roommate, Samantha, seemed fine, she was the same age as you and was very friendly to you when you introduced yourself. Of course, the first thing you did when you met Sam was give her a hand shake. As a witch, you could realize if the person you were touching was either a vampire, a human or even a witch like you.

You found out you were a witch last year when you accidentally caused a fire at a pool party. Ever since then, your grandma has been teaching you how to control your magic. The lessons started with simple spells, such as a locating spell. Your grandma insisted that one of the first things you should learn was how to defend yourself against a vampire, knowing that vampires often force witches to obey them.

You woke up early in the morning, you checked your phone to take a look at your timetable. You had Economics class in a few hours, so you proceed to do your morning routine; brushing your teeth, having breakfast and taking a shower. Once you were out of the shower and finished drying your hair, you used your hands to wipe the fogged-up bathroom mirror to see your face. It was your first day, you wanted to be beautiful as hell, so you started putting on makeup.

The first thing you saw as you opened the door was Samantha, your roommate, laying on her bed while scrolling through social media.

“Good morning, Sam” you greeted her as you walked to your closet.

“Morning, Y/N, how did you sleep?” she sat down on her bed and put her phone down

“Like a baby, these beds are great” you replied while taking off a few shirts from your closet, not looking at her.

“Yeah, I could tell you loved them; you snored all night,” she said with a playful tone. You stopped what you were doing and covered your face with your hands, trying to hide how red your cheeks had turned. She couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m just messing with you, you don’t snore, thank God.”

You had a chit chat with her as you both were getting ready for class. Eventually, she went to the bathroom and you headed to the classroom. You thought you were so lucky to have a roommate like Samantha, she was cool.

When you arrived at the classroom, you saw that only a few desks were occupied. You didn’t want to sit in the back, but you didn’t want to be in the front row either, so you decided to sit in the middle, in the only empty row.

You watched as the seats gradually filled up over time. There were five minutes left before the class started—in fact, the professor had already arrived—and yet the seat to your right remained empty. It caught your attention because you didn’t think a subject like Economics would have any empty seats.

However, it didn’t take long before someone sat down next to you. You turned your head and locked eyes with a black-haired boy you had never seen before, someone who looked like he’d been sculpted by the gods. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, and apparently, neither could he. You stayed like that for a few seconds… in silence. Until the boy decided to break it.

“Hello… my name is Jay” he said with a shy smile on his face.

“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you” you replied, also with a shy smile.

He opened his mouth to say something, but the professor cut him off by starting the class. You both turned your heads to the professor. You quickly took out your laptop and started taking notes, and so did Jay.

The class was… not what you expected. It was boring as hell. You were interested in the topic he was teaching; the problem was how he was teaching it. On top of that, he spoke in such a low tone of voice that it felt like he wanted his students to fall asleep during his class.

At some point you got distracted and, because of that, you lost the string of what he was saying. When you tried to get back to taking notes you weren’t able to understand, since it was related to what he explained during the time you got distracted.

You sighed before looking at Jay; he never stopped taking notes. “Jay…” you murmured in the lowest tone possible. He tilted his head to face you. “Would you mind showing me your screen for a sec?” He didn’t hesitate to turn his laptop in your direction so you could copy his notes. “Thanks”

“It’s nothing,” he responded. You noticed he was staring at you as you were writing down his notes. You finished quickly.

As the class ended, you packed your things, feeling the relief of finally escaping. Jay, however, stayed seated, watching you with a smirk as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey,” he called, stopping you just before you stepped into the aisle. “Got a sec?”

You glanced down at him, one brow arched. “What is it, Jay?”

He leaned back in his chair, spinning his pen between his fingers. “How about you give me your number?”

Your lips curved into a smirk. “My number? For what, exactly?”

“To return the favor,” he said smoothly, tapping the edge of his laptop. “You know, for letting you copy my notes today. Seems fair, right?”

You gave him a look, not missing the way his eyes gleamed with playful confidence. “Hmm, sounds less like returning a favor and more like you’re finding an excuse to talk to me.”

Jay’s grin widened, clearly enjoying your response. “Caught me. Guilty as charged,” he admitted without missing a beat. “But hey, I figure someone like you might be worth chatting with outside this horrible class.”

You didn’t hesitate this time, pulling out your phone with a shrug. “Fair enough,” you said, typing your number into his contact screen before handing it back.

“Done,” he said, glancing at his phone to check your name. Jay stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder as if this whole interaction had been the most natural thing in the world. “See you next time, then. And don’t worry, I’m not much of a spammer, unless I get bored.”

He gave you a wink before strolling out of the classroom.

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Later that night, you were brushing your teeth, thinking about Jay. You liked guys who took the initiative, and he was also handsome as hell. He hadn’t texted you yet. You weren’t dying for a text, but still, you wanted to know more about him. You thought about searching for him on social media; however, you only knew his first name, and it was a common one, so it was going to be hard to find him on Instagram. That’s when you decided to ask Samantha to help you get his last name.

You heard Samantha yell, “Found it!” Oh, that was faster than you expected. You left the bathroom and sat next to her. “I found him on your class list. His last name is Park.”

You grabbed your phone and started searching for Jay Park on Instagram. You visited a few profiles before finally finding his account. He had posted a few pictures of himself at the beach, at the gym, and at parties.

“Girl, he’s so handsome. Check his stories,” Samantha said, leaning over your shoulder.

You tapped on the highlight named “bros,” and as you were scrolling through the stories, you saw one of Jay with another guy on a yacht.

“Oh my god, look at his friend. He’s way hotter,” Samantha chuckled. She was literally all about boys. Luckily, Jay had tagged his friend in the story, so Samantha didn’t hesitate to grab her own phone and follow him. His name was Lee Heeseung.

A few hours later, Samantha fell asleep in her bed and you were on yours, still stalking Jay. You noticed something, in every picture he was wearing the same ring, maybe it had a special meaning to him… or something like that. You checked your timetable, you only had Economics on Mondays and Fridays, meaning you wouldn’t see Jay until the end of the week unless you and him shared another class.

At that moment, you received a text. It was from Jay, greeting you and asking what you were doing.

“Not much, just about to sleep,” you replied casually.

His response came almost instantly. “Going to bed so soon? Making sure you won’t fall sleep in class again?.”

You chuckled, typing back, “I wasn’t that bad. Your notes were just too detailed, they knocked me out.”

Jay’s next message had you smiling. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Guess I’ll have to tone down my brilliance next time.”

“Or just get a louder voice,” you teased, feeling a little bolder.

“Ouch. Brutal,” he replied. “But fair. So, do we have any other classes together, or is it just Economics?” He send you a picture of his schedule

“Apparently just Economics, Mondays and Fridays,” you wrote back. “Why? Hoping I’ll help you stay awake in other classes too?”

“Maybe,” he replied, and you could almost hear the grin in his words. “I mean, it’s a solid setup. You get my notes; I get a decent excuse to stay awake. Win-win.”

“Wow, you’re really thinking this through,” you answered, amused.

“Always,” Jay texted back. “Anyway, let me know if you ever need more life-saving notes. I might ask for payment next time, though.”

“Payment?” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “What kind of payment?”

“You’ll see,” was all he said, leaving the conversation hanging with just enough intrigue to keep you curious.

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You spent the rest of the week texting with Jay. Eventually, you followed each other on Instagram—of course, you didn’t tell him you had stalked him. Even though your chats were never particularly deep, you felt surprisingly comfortable talking to him. He mentioned that he and Heeseung had been friends for a year. Speaking of which, Samantha had a date with Heeseung that Thursday.

You were lying on your bed, watching a movie on your laptop, when someone knocked on the door. Samantha hurried out of the bathroom and walked over to you. She was wearing a casual outfit—simple but effortlessly stylish. She had spent nearly an hour deciding what to wear, yet she somehow made it look like she had thrown it together in a minute.

“How do I look?” Samantha murmured, careful to keep her voice low so Heeseung wouldn’t hear.

You paused your movie and playfully scrunched up your nose in mock disapproval, making her look momentarily worried.

“I’m kidding! You look gorgeous. Now go open the door,” you said with a grin, pressing play to continue watching your movie.

She opened the door, and Heeseung greeted her with a warm smile. After they exchanged hellos, Heeseung raised his voice toward you.

“Y/N.”

You paused the movie again and looked at him.

“Jay sent you this,” he said, pulling a sleek, luxurious box from his jacket pocket.

You stood up and walked toward him, noticing that he didn’t step inside your dorm, even though he was talking to you.

You took the box from him. “Thanks. What is it?”

“I dunno, open it,” Heeseung said, looking intrigued.

You opened the box and… wow. You hadn’t expected such a beautiful bracelet. It had a charm that looked like silver. You took it out of the box and slipped it onto your left wrist.

“It looks gorgeous on you!” Samantha said with a smile.

“Giving you that bracelet so soon? Interesting…” Heeseung commented with a teasing tone.

“What’s with the bracelet?” you asked, glancing at him.

“You’ll find out sooner or later,” he said cryptically before turning toward the hallway. “You coming, Sam?”

Samantha closed the door behind her, and just like that, they were gone.

You looked down at the bracelet. You didn’t know why, but you had a bad feeling about this whole situation.

Shaking off the unease, you told yourself it was just a thoughtful gift from a cute guy at college. You texted Jay to thank him for the bracelet, and he replied almost instantly:

“Glad you liked it.”

A few seconds later, another text popped up:

“If you like it, you should wear it all the time. I bet it looks pretty on you.”

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You went to bed early, so you didn’t hear Samantha come back to the dorm.

Friday morning arrived, and you went about your usual routine. Standing in front of your closet, you spent a few minutes debating what to wear—you wanted to look good, confident, and just the right amount of irresistible for Jay.

As you were sifting through your options, Samantha walked in, practically glowing as she started gushing about her date with Heeseung.

“You should wear this shirt; it’ll look great on you,” she said, pulling out a shirt and holding it up for you.

You smiled at her suggestion. “Oh, by the way,” she continued, “Heeseung told me some of his friends are throwing a party tomorrow night. Wanna come? Jay’s gonna be there.”

“Sure, sounds fun,” you said, taking the shirt from her and slipping it on.

After finishing up and checking yourself in the mirror one last time, you headed to Economics class. You sat in the same spot as Monday, settling in and glancing around, but Jay wasn’t there yet. However, a few minutes later he arrived and sat next to you.

“Morning, Y/N, how are you?” he said with a smile on his face. God, he was so handsome.

“Oh, hi, Jay. Fine, you?”

“Same,” he replied casually. His eyes drifted to your wrist, noticing the bracelet he had given you. “It looks pretty on you.”

You tilted your head slightly, a playful smirk on your lips. “Does it look pretty on me, or I look pretty with it?”

Jay chuckled, leaning a little closer. “Maybe both,” he said smoothly, his grin growing wider.

You rolled your eyes as you bit your lower lip. You were going to answer him, but the professor started the class.

The class was proceeding as usual. During it, you could feel Jay glancing at you from time to time.

At one point, Jay leaned closer to your ear and whispered, “Are you going to the party tomorrow?” His voice took you by surprise, and for a moment, it sent a shiver down your spine.

“Yeah, Samantha told me you and Heeseung are going too,” you replied softly.

“That’s right. By the way, my favorite color is black,” he said with a sly smile before turning back to his laptop, thinking the conversation was over. But you weren’t done yet. Leaning closer to his ear, you whispered back:

“My favorite color is red.”

If he wanted you to wear black, he’d have to show up in red. You smirked to yourself and returned to taking notes as if nothing had happened.

The class finally came to an end, just as boring as the first one. You and Jay started putting your things away, still sitting in your chairs.

“So, I have to show up in red if I want to catch your attention, right?” he asked, a playful smile on his face.

“Yeah, and I have to show up in black to catch yours,” you replied, matching his teasing tone.

In that moment, your phone vibrated, so you quickly took it out of your pocket. It was a message from your mom. You unlocked your phone to reply but accidentally dropped it on the floor. You bent down to grab it, but Jay was faster.

“Be careful, if you break it, you won’t receive my texts,” he teased, leaning down to hand your phone back to you.

As you grabbed your phone, your fingers brushed against his. The moment your skin touched his, you felt it—a cold shiver ran through your body, like death itself had brushed past you. It was like darkness wrapped around you for a second. You let out a small gasp, a sound of discomfort you couldn’t hide.

“What happened? Are you okay?” Jay asked, his voice full of concern.

It couldn’t be real. Jay was… a vampire. Your new college crush was a freaking vampire. You’d spent the past week texting him, getting to know him, and now it all felt wrong.

“Ye-yeah… I have to go!” you stammered, your heart racing. Before he could say anything else, you quickly stood up and bolted for the door. You could feel his eyes on you, but you didn’t dare stop. Your mind was spinning, and you needed to get out of there.

In your rush, you didn’t notice Heeseung waiting outside, apparently for Jay. You bumped into him, and… it had to be a joke. Once again, that horrible feeling washed over you. You felt death crawl through your body.

“Watch where you’re…” Heeseung didn’t finish his sentence because this time, you just kept walking, nearly running.

Your heart was pounding, and you could barely catch your breath. So far, you’d met three people, and two of them turned out to be monsters.

In that moment you realize why Jay had the same ring in all of his pictures, it was a daylight ring, it allowed him to walk freely during the day.

What should you do? Go to the party and confront them? Pretend nothing happened? You had so many questions, and then you remembered that Samantha had gone on a date with Heeseung.

You ran back to your dorm and slammed the door open. “Samantha!” you shouted desperately. You shut the door behind you. She was lying on the bed, texting on her phone.

“I’m here! Don’t shout, it’s still early,” she said as she got up. “What happened?”

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” You bombarded her with questions, scared of what Heeseung might have done to her.

“S-sure. What’s going on? You look like you saw a ghost.” You were pale, sweat running down your cheek from all the running. When she told you she was fine, you let out a sigh of relief.

You sat on your bed, trying to calm yourself down and think clearly about what to do. Right now, you needed to figure out how to get Samantha away from Heeseung without making her ask too many questions.

“Listen to me, you can’t keep seeing Heeseung.”

“What? Why?”

You weren’t great at lying, but you had to come up with something convincing for Sam’s sake.

“I heard he has a girlfriend. Seems like he’s cheating on her with multiple girls…” you saw how her expression changed form confusion and worry to fury.

“What?! That son of…”

She grabbed the pillow from her bed and threw it against the wall in frustration. She started yelling in anger, saying things you didn’t think a girl like her would ever say.

“You know what? We’re going to that party. I’m wearing the shortest dress I have, and I’m going to ignore him the whole night while he drools over me.”

“I don’t think going to the party is a good…” you were cut off by Samantha.

“We’re going, and that’s final!”

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You were sitting in the Uber with Samantha next to you, heading to the party. Jay had sent you a few messages since Friday’s class, but you didn’t even bother to open them.

As you looked out the car window, you got lost in your thoughts. Your grandma always told you that vampires were monsters—after all, they feed on innocent people. They could wipe out an entire town just for fun if they wanted to. Vampires are murderers.

But Jay seemed like a good person. He hadn’t done anything to hurt you. In fact, he even gave you a bracelet, which you were wearing at that moment. If Jay were truly evil, he would have attacked you by now. You had held onto that thought for the past two days.

Was it possible that good vampires existed? Vampires who didn’t kill? You were desperately trying to convince yourself that Jay wasn’t like the others. But that didn’t change the fact that he fed on people, probably killing them in the process.

Samantha was wearing a short red dress, while you had opted for a dark blue one. Of course, you weren’t going to wear black. You planned to ignore Jay the whole night and mind your own business.

When you arrived, you stepped out of the car and were greeted by the sight of a mansion packed with people. It was massive, with at least three floors. A few people were smoking and drinking on the porch. As you approached the entrance, the music grew louder and louder.

Once inside, you scanned the room for Jay. You needed to know where he was so you could avoid him. It didn’t take long to spot him—he had a beer in his hand and was chatting with a group of guys. He was wearing a red shirt, and it suited him almost too well. You recognized Heeseung among the group, also holding a beer.

At that moment, you and Jay locked eyes. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away. “Let’s go get some drinks,” you said to Samantha, grabbing her arm.

You both headed toward what seemed to be the kitchen. Jay looked confused. Everything had been fine until Friday morning, but now you were ignoring him. He needed answers.

An hour later, you and Samantha were drinking jungle juice while dancing in the yard. The weather was nice, and the yard wasn’t as crowded as the house, making it the perfect spot. You were slightly worried about Samantha. You’d only had two glasses, but you’d lost count of hers after four. She seemed fine, though—at least, until she opened her mouth.

“I want to talk to Heeseung,” she said loudly so you could hear her over the music. “He deserves to be embarrassed in public. He’s an asshole.”

“Sam, don’t waste your precious time on him. He’s not worth it,” you said, praying she wouldn’t do anything stupid.

She sighed. “You’re right…”

Eventually, you needed to use the bathroom—you’d drunk too much. Samantha followed you back into the house to look for it. You asked a random guy for directions, and he pointed you upstairs.

As you were walking, you felt someone staring at you. Turning your head, you saw Jay watching you intently. He raised his hand to wave, but you quickly avoided his gaze again.

“I’ll wait outside to make sure no one comes in,” Samantha said as you entered the bathroom.

You peed quickly and washed your hands. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you noticed your makeup was still intact. You weren’t drunk, just in a “happier” mood.

Your phone vibrated as you were about to leave. It was a text from Jay: “Is everything okay?” You read the notification but didn’t open it. Instead, you deleted it.

When you stepped out, Samantha was nowhere to be found. She was way too drunk to be wandering around alone. You quickly texted her, “Where are you?” You hadn’t been gone long, so she couldn’t be far.

You began searching for her while waiting for a reply. After ten minutes of looking with no luck, you glanced in Jay’s direction, hoping Heeseung was still with him. But of course, he wasn’t.

If you were worried before, now you were terrified. What if Samantha was alone with Heeseung? You didn’t even want to think about it. You started asking people if they’d seen her, growing more desperate by the second.

“Y/N,” a familiar voice called from behind. You turned to see Jay. You didn’t want to talk to him, but he might be your only chance of finding Samantha.

“Are you done avoiding me?” he asked, stepping closer.

You moved toward him, now standing just inches apart. Looking directly into his eyes, you said, “Where is Samantha?!” Your tone was sharp, almost yelling.

Jay was taken aback. He’d been expecting an explanation for your behavior, not you screaming at him about your friend.

“Tell me where the fuck Heeseung took her, or I’ll drive a stake into your heart,” you spat.

His expression shifted to one of shock and confusion. Did he hear you right? How could you possibly know what he was? Then it clicked—this must be why you’d been avoiding him. Jay didn’t know how you’d figured it out, but he wanted to help.

“I think he took her to the last room upstairs. Seung always takes girls there,” Jay finally said, still stunned. “But don’t worry—he’s not going to hurt her.”

“I highly doubt that,” you muttered before turning and heading for the stairs. The second floor was much quieter than the first. The long hallway ahead was almost empty. Desperate, you sprinted to the last door.

It was locked.

Looking around to make sure no one was watching, you sighed. If you wanted to help Samantha, you had no choice but to use your magic. Placing a hand on the door, you concentrated.

“Dissera portus.”

You heard the lock click open and pushed the door without hesitation.

What you saw inside was horrifying. Heeseung had Samantha pinned against the wall, drinking blood straight from her neck. She wasn’t moving or making a sound—he must have compelled her.

“Let her go!” you screamed.

Heeseung stopped and turned to look at you, intrigued. “How did you get in? I’m sure I locked the door.” He wiped the blood from his lips with his sleeve, completely unbothered by what he was doing.

You glared at him, rage boiling in your veins. “Let. Her. Go.”

He laughed at your words. "Here's the thing. I'd compel you to forget this ever happened, but Jay gave you that." He pointed at your bracelet. "So this is what we're gonna do: I'll give you five seconds to turn around, leave, and find Jay.

"Or what?" you asked in a challenging tone.

"I'm gonna kill you," he said like it was nothing.

He raised his hand and began counting.

With each number, he lowered a finger. "One, two, thr-"

He didn't finish. You were already casting a stern gaze at him, using the Pain Infliction spell, one of the first spells you learned. It wasn't verbal but still powerful, causing his blood vessels to burst and inflicting unbearable pain.

Heeseung screamed, clutching his head as if it would split open. "Fuck!" he yelled, falling to the floor and writhing in agony.

Samantha stood frozen, tears streaming down her face, utterly speechless. She didn't know what was happening-only that she wanted to leave.

"You shouldn't have messed with one of my friends, Heeseung," you said, stepping closer without breaking your concentration. "Burn in hell, vampire. Incendia!"

Flames ignited at his feet and rapidly climbed his legs. He frantically patted at the fire, but his efforts were useless.

"Stop!" Jay's voice cut through the chaos. He appeared behind you in an instant, his speed unmatched. "Please... He's out of control, but I can help him."

"He's a vampire," you spat. "He won't stop killing as long as he's alive. He has to die."

Jay realized words wouldn't sway you.

He looked at you, then at his friend, who was still thrashing on the ground. The fire had reached Heeseung's hips, and his screams were becoming weaker.

"I hope this works," Jay muttered to himself before using his speed to move to Heeseung. In one swift motion, he grabbed his friend's head with both hands and snapped his neck.

You froze. You knew snapping his neck wouldn't truly kill him-he'd recover within hours.

"Wha-"

"I'll make sure he's punished for hurting your friend," Jay said, turning to you, desperation etched on his face. "But please... don't kill him."

What were you supposed to do? Stop the spell and trust Jay? Attack him the same way you attacked Heeseung?

You looked at Jay, searching his eyes for answers. Something about him made you pause. Against your better judgment, you felt you could trust him.

Raising your right hand toward Heeseung, you whispered, "Suctus Incendia." The flames disappeared instantly.

"Thank you," Jay said softly.

You didn’t answer him. You ran to Samantha and hugged her. Her cry became louder as she left tears in your shoulder. You to patted her head hoping it would help her calm down.

“I… I can help you” Jay said as he approached to you. He rolled up his sleeves and bit his own wrist. “You’ll heal faster if you drink my blood”

You broke the hug and Samantha looked at you, waiting for your approval. You nodded your head and Jay leaned his hand, Samantha drank the blood from his wrist and in a matter of seconds, the bite mark Heeseung left in her neck disappeared.

After that you both headed to the exit. “Thank you, Jay” you said before closing the door of the bedroom.

————————-

You practically had to drag Samantha to her bed since she was in a total state of shock. Once she was lying down, you went to her closet, took out her pajamas, and handed them to her. After that, you gave her a glass of water.

“How are you feeling?” you asked as you sat at the edge of the bed, near her feet, which were covered by the sheets.

“I—I don’t know…” she stammered, her voice shaky. “I’m afraid, I—I’m confused.” She sighed deeply, her eyes welling with tears. “Vampires exist… Heeseung and Jay were vampires, and… and you…” She looked at you with a mix of fear and curiosity. “What are you exactly?”

“I’m… a witch,” you admitted, trying to give her a reassuring smile. “I don’t use my magic to hurt people.” You reached out and gently held her hand. “You’re safe with me, I promise.”

Sam took a small sip of water, her trembling hands barely steady enough to hold the glass. The room fell silent for a few minutes. Neither of you knew what to say or do.

Samantha sat there, gripping the glass of water so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her breathing grew uneven, and you could see the weight of everything she had just witnessed crashing down on her.

“I… I could have died,” she whispered, her voice trembling. Her words were barely audible, but the fear laced in them was undeniable. She placed the glass shakily on the nightstand and pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging them tightly. “Heeseung—he could have killed me. If you weren’t there…” Her voice cracked as she trailed off.

You stayed quiet, allowing her to let it out.

“And Jay… he didn’t even care. He was protecting that monster! What if they come back? What if more of them come after me?” Samantha’s breathing quickened, and her hands started shaking. “I’m not safe. Vampires exist, and God knows what else! Demons? Werewolves? What if this is just the beginning?”

She buried her face in her hands, trying to muffle the soft, panicked sobs that began escaping her.

“Samantha…” you said gently, moving closer.

“I’m just human,” she continued, her voice muffled. “I can’t do anything. I’m not strong like you, I don’t have magic to protect myself… I don’t even know how to fight!” She looked up at you, her face pale and tear-streaked. “How do I live like this? How do I go back to normal knowing there are monsters out there?”

You felt your heart sink. Samantha’s words cut through you, and you realized the full weight of what she was saying. This knowledge, this world she was pulled into, was tearing her apart.

You reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Sam,” you said softly, your voice steady. “You don’t have to worry. I will protect you.”

She shook her head. “You can’t always be there, Y/N. And what happens next time? Or the time after that?” Her voice cracked again. “I don’t want to live in fear.”

You didn’t know what to say. For the first time, you realized that the truth—the world you lived in—was too much for her. It wasn’t fair to expect her to carry this burden.

You took a deep breath, your decision forming in the silence. There was a way to help her, to give her back the peace she so desperately needed. But it wasn’t a choice you made lightly.

Samantha sniffled, wiping her face with her sleeve. “I trust you, Y/N. I do. But this… this is too much for me.”

“I know,” you said softly. Your voice wavered, but you kept going. “I can fix this, Sam. I can make it so you don’t have to feel this way anymore. So you can be free from this.”

She blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”

You hesitated, guilt already weighing on your chest. “I know someone who can make you forget this ever happened,” you said softly. “But before I call him, I need to know if you’re okay with it. Are you in?”

Samantha stared at her hands, her voice trembling. “Forget? Like… completely? Everything about tonight?”

You nodded. “Yes. All of it. But only if you want to.”

She took a shaky breath and looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Call him, please.”

You gave her a reassuring nod, though the knot in your stomach tightened. Pulling out your phone, you quickly dialed the number of the one person who could help.

As you waited for him to answer the call, you walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind you. He didn’t keep you waiting for long.

“Y/N! I was just about to—”

“Jay, I need your help,” you interrupted, keeping your voice low so Samantha wouldn’t hear his name. You knew it would terrify her.

“S-Sure, what happened?”

“I need you to compel Samantha. Make her forget about tonight. Can… can you do that?”

There was a brief pause on the other end before he responded. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Okay, thanks,” you murmured, ending the call. You took a moment to collect yourself before stepping out of the bathroom and back into the room.

“He’s coming,” you said gently to Samantha as you sat beside her. “He’ll be here soon.”

A few minutes later, Samantha went to the bathroom. For the first time that night, you had a moment to yourself, a moment to think. You sighed deeply, tilting your head back to stare at the ceiling.

Jay… Tonight, he showed you he’s not like other vampires. He could’ve attacked you from behind to save his friend, but instead, he tried to reason with you and even healed Samantha.

Your gaze shifted to the bracelet on your wrist. Heeseung had said he couldn’t compel you because of it. You figured it must contain vervain—the only thing that makes humans immune to compulsion. But you were a witch; compulsion didn’t work on witches, so you didn’t really need it.

A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. It must be Jay. Samantha was still in the bathroom. You stood up and went to open it. Sure enough, when you did, there he was.

“Hi… again,” Jay said, his voice soft, almost shy.

“Hello, Jay,” you replied briskly.

For a few moments, the two of you stood in silence, staring at each other. Then, he offered you a small, shy smile, his lips pressed together.

“Uhm… could you invite me in?” he asked hesitantly.

You’d forgotten—you needed to invite vampires into a private space before they could enter. You hesitated, knowing that once invited, Jay could come and go as he pleased. He could kill you while you were asleep. Or even right now, the moment you let him in.

But… you trusted him.

“Come on in, Jay.”

“Thanks,” he said, stepping across the threshold.

At that moment, Samantha came out of the bathroom, she froze when she saw Jay, fear flashing in her eyes. She clutched the bathroom doorframe, her voice shaky. “Y/N… w-why is he here?”

You quickly stepped toward her. “Sam, it’s okay. He’s not here to hurt you. I promise.”

Her eyes darted to Jay, who raised his hands in a gesture of peace. “I understand you’re scared,” Jay said gently. “But I’m here to help, not hurt you.”

“He healed you earlier,” you reminded her firmly. “If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t even be standing. Trust me, Sam. He’s not like Heeseung.”

Samantha hesitated, glancing between you and Jay, before finally nodding. “Okay… I’ll try.”

You guided her to sit on the couch. “This will all be over soon, I promise.”

You took off your bracelet and placed it on the table next to the couch. Jay’s eyes followed the movement, and for a brief moment, you noticed a flicker of hurt in his expression.

“Please compel her to never take off the bracelet,” you said softly.

Jay nodded, sitting down next to Samantha. He looked her directly in the eyes, his voice calm and steady. “You won’t remember anything from tonight. You decided to stay home and watch a movie. You’ll put on the bracelet and never take it off, no matter what. After that, you’ll go to bed and sleep peacefully.”

A few seconds later, Samantha picked up the bracelet, slipped it onto her wrist, and walked to her bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

“Thank you… it means a lot” you said

“Don’t thank me. It was the least I could do after what Heeseung did to her.” Jay paused, running a hand through his hair. “But… it wasn’t entirely his fault.” He sighed deeply. “He was turned into a vampire a few weeks ago. At first, he was doing fine. I taught him how to resist the urges, how to survive on blood bags without hurting anyone. But… last week, his father died.” His voice softened. “He couldn’t handle the pain of losing him, so he flipped his humanity switch. He thought shutting off his emotions would be better than feeling the grief.”

As Jay spoke, his sadness was palpable. It was strange seeing a vampire care so deeply about someone else, about doing the right thing. It challenged everything you thought you knew about them.

“Heeseung isn’t evil,” Jay continued. “Not really. Vampires… we’re not all monsters. Some of us try to be better.” He hesitated, looking at you as if to gauge your reaction. “I don’t feed on humans. Blood bags are enough for me. I made that choice a long time ago.”

Hearing that caught you off guard. For so long, vampires had been nothing but a danger to you and the people you cared about. But Jay… he wasn’t like the others. He didn’t embrace the darkness that came with his nature. Instead, he fought it. And that, more than anything, made you feel something stir inside you.

Jay and you stepped out into the aisle just outside your dorm. The cool night air brushed past as you faced each other in silence. You carefully closed the door behind you, making sure not to make any noise that could wake Samantha.

“You didn’t have to come tonight,” you said quietly. “You could’ve just… stayed out of it.”

He smiled faintly, almost shyly. “I couldn’t let Samantha suffer for something she didn’t deserve. And I couldn’t let you deal with it alone.”

Your heart softened at his words, though you refused to let it show too much. “You’re… not what I expected,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Neither are you, Hermione Granger,” he teased, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Oh, shut up, Edward Cullen.”

Jay laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Touché.”

There was a brief pause, comfortable yet charged with unspoken feelings. He tilted his head slightly and gave you a crooked smile. “So… I have to ask, after tonight… are you going to keep ghosting me, or are you finally going to answer my texts?”

You let out another soft chuckle, raising an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know… texting is kind of boring. When are you going to ask me out already?”

His smirk widened, and for a moment, he looked caught off guard, but not in a bad way. “Guess I’ll have to fix that soon, huh?”

“You’d better,” you said lightly, though your heart raced at the prospect.

Jay’s eyes softened as he looked at you, his usual confidence tempered with something gentler. “I will,” he promised, his tone quiet but resolute.

Jay nodded, his playful smirk still lingering. “Well, I guess I should let you get some sleep,” he said, glancing at the door behind you.

“Yeah, it’s been… a night,” you replied, the weight of everything settling in.

He took a step back, his expression softening just slightly. “Take care of yourself,” he said, his voice quieter now.

You gave him a small nod. “I will. Thanks, Jay.”

He flashed you one last smile. “Goodnight, Hermione,” he teased, his voice low and light.

“Goodnight, Edward,” you replied, the corner of your lips lifting as you shook your head.

Jay turned and walked away, his silhouette disappearing down the quiet street. You stayed there for a moment longer, watching him leave, before turning back toward your dorm, feeling the lingering energy of the night slowly fading into the quiet.

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antifainternational · 1 year ago

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Since youre antifascist, how about you give us a definition of fascism? What exactly makes someone a fascist? (and in case you use terms such as left-wing or right-wing be sure to define them too)

Guess it's been a while since a clever Anon challenged us to define fascism, huh? Right, let's get into it: Via the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum:

Yale professor Jason Stanley:

“Fascism is a creation of race hatred and its politically organized expression.” - Willhelm Reich, The Mass Psychology of Fascism (1933).

“Fascism is capitalism plus murder.” - Upton Sinclair

“Repression by brute force is always a confession of the inability to make use of the better weapons of the intellect — better because they alone give promise of final success. This is the fundamental error from which Fascism suffers and which will ultimately cause its downfall…that its foreign policy, based as it is on the avowed principle of force in international relations, cannot fail to give rise to an endless series of wars that must destroy all of modern civilization requires no further discussion. To maintain and further raise our present level of economic development, peace among nations must be assured. But they cannot live together in peace if the basic tenet of the ideology by which they are governed is the belief that one’s own nation can secure its place in the community of nations by force alone. ” - Ludwig von Mises, Liberalism: A Socio-Economic Exposition (1927).

“Spent most of the day reading fascisti leaflets. They certainly have turned the whole country into an army. From cradle to grave one is cast in the mould of fascismo and there can be no escape … It is certainly a socialist experiment in that it destroys individuality. It destroys liberty.” - Harold Nicolson, The Harold Nicolson Diaries : 1919-1964 (2004).

“The liberty of a democracy is not safe if the people tolerated the growth of private power to a point where it becomes stronger than the democratic state itself. That in its essence is fascism: ownership of government by an individual, by a group, or any controlling private power.” - Franklin D. Roosevelt

“A fascist is one whose lust for money or power is combined with such an intensity of intolerance toward those of other races, parties, classes, religions, cultures, regions or nations as to make him ruthless in his use of deceit or violence to attain his ends….If we define an American fascist as one who in case of conflict puts money and power ahead of human beings, then there are undoubtedly several million fascists in the United States.” - Henry A. Wallace

“Fascism is the cult of organised murder, invented by the arch-enemies of society. It tends to destroy civilization and revert man to his most barbarous state. Mussolini and Hitler might well be called the devils of an age, for they are playing hell with civilization.” - Marcus Garvey, Authors take Sides on the Spanish War, 1937 Philosophy Tube's breakdown of the elements of fascism is very thorough and recommended if you're not the reading type. But do you read books? We hope so if you're looking to engage in political discussion about anything. Here are some books that tackle the definition of fascism, in whole or in part, that we would recommend to you (check/order from your local library!) Mark Bray's highly-accessible Antifa: The Anti-Fascist Handbook is a great starting point for this topic.

Columbia history professor Robert O. Paxton's excellent book The Anatomy of Fascism goes into this in great detail.

There's also Umberto Eco's The Eternal Fascist

or his "practical list for identifying fascists" as well as Hannah Arendt's seminal The Origins of Totalitarianism

We hope you weren't looking for a simple answer to the complex question of "what is fascism?" Anon, just as we hope you're up to taking our challenge of checking out all of the above so you're curiosity is satisfied and you're well-versed on the topic.

#antifa #fascism #defining fascism

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howlingday · 3 months ago

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So funny idea I told Fatallyobsessed.

What if Opzin hired Kali to be a communication and home etc professor at Beacon?

Like to teach them how to take care of themselves and how to deal with civilians in the field. I'm sure they learned medical practice at Prep school.

I just saw that. And yeah, I think it would be a pretty neat skill to learn. Actually, I recently learned some things about baking and cooking that I think might make these classes all the more useful to up and coming huntresses and huntsmen. Now, where did I put that Culinary Doctorate degree...?

--------------------------------------------------

Prof. Kali

With a recent decline in White Fang activity globally, Ozpin had decided to reach out to any friends left in Menagerie for assistance with his school. As it turned out, one of the best chefs on the island micro-nation was none other than the chieftain's wife, Kali Belladonna. Ghira was worried about her leaving, just as any husband would, but she eased his fears that she would stay safe enough to keep in touch.

The interview was a breeze to get through as she was a certified chef, baker, and cook. She knew the right ingredient to use as an alternative when a student had an allergy, what sorts of proteins and minerals were required to keep a huntsman functioning, and had proven to be impeccable at time management, cooking for the staff at Beacon to prove her skill. Ozpin offered the job and added a bonus if she helped in the cafeteria, too.

Starting her first day in the middle of the school year put her a little on edge, but she steeled herself as she stepped into her classroom, ready to help these students become self-sufficient monster hunters. Honestly, the only thing she didn't prepare for was-

"Blake?!" Her daughter was powerless to stop Kali from wrapping herself around her. "Oh, my baby girl, you're okay~!"

"M-Mom..." Blake gently pushed her off. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Kali parroted. "What are you doing here?"

"I... I'm attending Beacon." Blake answered. "I... left and-"

"It's okay, sweetheart." Kali held her hand up. "We can talk after. For now, take your seat while everyone else is coming in."

"What?" Blake blinked, watching as her mother quickly walked away and shouted to students as they were coming in.

"Come in, come in! Everyone, take a seat~!" Kali made it to the board and began drawing her name on the board. "I am Professor Kali Belladonna, and I will be your Home Economics instructor at Beacon Academy."

"Wait, like Blake Belladonna?" A blonde girl asked, sitting next to her daughter.

"Yes, Blake is my daughter, but that doesn't mean she, or any of her teammates can slack off on their assignments." She rounded the desk and looked around at her class. "Home Economics is a class for preparing young students like yourselves for the real world."

"The one filled with Grimm?" A girl with orange hair asked.

"Yes, and who's going to fill your bellies while you fight those Grimm? Because let me give you a spoiler warning; it's not going to be your mother, your father, or your teachers."

"What about our butlers?" A girl with black hair with red tips asked, raising her hand that was swiftly brought down by a girl with white hair.

Kali giggled. "Do you really think you're rich enough to have butlers? Maybe if you're the head of the Schnee Dust Company, but last I checked, Jacques Schnee had no interest in being a huntsman." The girl with white hair blushed at the comment, angrily glaring at the girl next to her. "How many of you know how to cook already?"

A few hands went up. A boy with long, dark hair, another boy with blond hair and blue eyes, and a girl with long, blonde hair and a cheeky grin. Kali nodded, since this was at least two more than she expected. She quirked a brow, though.

"Blake, I thought I raised you better." The class laughed at the tease, earning a blush from her daughter. "But life does happen. It can get in the way of us sitting down to a good meal, which robs us of our energy, which makes it harder for us to fight, which makes us hungrier, which takes away more energy, and so on and so on until..." She held out her hands. "You know what happens if a huntress can't fight."

Kali snapped her finger. "Pop quiz!" The class groaned. "Who knows what tryptophan is?" A girl with red hair raised her hand. "Yes, Pyrrha Nikos!" The girl blinked, suddenly off-put by the address of her full name. "I saw your fights when I was cooking dinner one day. Sorry. Do you know what tryptophan is?"

"It's the chemical in turkey that makes you tired, isn't it?" Pyrrha answered.

"Isn't it? Yes, it is!" Kali giggled. "But that's only if you eat about eight pounds of it. Like, say, at a big banquet to celebrate human and faunus unity?"

"I can eat that." The orange-haired girl commented.

"So can my husband!" Kali laughed, getting a laugh from some of her students. "Now, what fruits should you avoid after taking heart medicine?" The students shared a confused look. "It's tricky, isn't it? Anyone want to guess?"

"Apples?" The blond boy offered.

"Bzzt! Nope!" Kali giggled. "Anyone else? No?" She shrugged. "The answer is grapefruits, though you should also avoid limes, pomelos, and certain oranges. These fruits contain a chemical called furanocoumarins, which causes your heart to slow down and stop as a reaction to the medication." The young girl with silver eyes gaped in amazement as her mind was blown. "Knowing the specifics of what you put in your body can mean the difference between life and death."

"Um, Mrs. Belladonna?"

"Yes, Blake?"

"What... exactly is the lesson plan?"

"I was getting to that. Thank you, Blake." She wasn't. The truth was that she was so excited to share fun facts that she was about to spend an entire class pop-quizzing kids on food trivia. Thankfully, her daughter was here to stop her, just like her father would when she'd talk her guests ear off about food back in Menagerie. "Starting tomorrow, you will all be assigned to complete a recipe. You will go to the market in your free time and look for the best prices for your recipe. By the end of this week, I should have the recipes. By the end of next week, you should have the real thing sitting in front of you, ready for taste-testing. Failure to provide will result in F for the assignment."

Reaching into the desk, Kali hefted a stack of books. "These will be your textbooks. We will go ever each chapter, learn what we need you to learn, and then apply what was taught into your skills." She walked around, placing books in front of students as she passed. "Failure to bring your book won't be a failure, but it will be noted. Are there any questions?" The classroom was silent. "Good. Now, open your books to page..."

--------------------------------------------------

"Mom?"

"Hi, Blake." Kali greeted from outside the dorm. "Can we talk?"

"Um, sure." Blake stepped out, standing by her mother. "Is everything alright?"

"I don't know. You tell me." Blake felt a chill up her spine. "The first time I see you years and it's at a huntsman academy? What is going on? What happened to you being in..." She looked around. "You know?"

"I... I left." Blake answered.

"And... you're not going back?"

"No! And I'm here because..." Blake looked uneasy. "Because it was the safest place and I thought that I could make up for what I did in the- There, here."

"Oh, Blake..." Kali hugged her only daughter. "I am so sorry you had to go through all of that. And I'm so... proud of you."

"Proud of me? But I... I was-"

"You were." Kali nodded. "And it took some time, but you finally got enough sense to see things the same way your father did, and now you're doing the same thing he's doing."

"...Running away?" Blake winced.

"Making up for it." Kali held Blake's hands. "You saw what horrible things Sienna and Adam were doing, so now you're trying to make up for what you've done by becoming a huntress."

"But... isn't that selfish?"

"Kitten, I am holding hands and hugging a student, both of which are against Beacon staff policy. Do you think I'm selfish for wanting to hold my daughter?"

"...Would I be wrong for saying no?"

"No, but I would still be wrong because what I'm doing is selfish. But enough about right and wrong, selfish or brave- show me, your mother, where you're living!"

"But Mom-"

"Professor Belladonna."

"Professor Belladonna, what about the... Beacon staff policy?"

"I'm sure they'll make an exception for the hugging. And as for me coming in, I'll just say it was a late-night inspection. I have heard a few things about what your team has been getting up to."

Blake shrunk a little. "Well, okay..." She then opened the door, bringing her mother into her new life.

#rwby #kali belladonna #prof. kali #blake belladonna #ruby rose #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #jaune arc #lie ren #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos

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sh0jun · 5 months ago

Text

Ikemen Sengoku Modern AU

Boys as various university professors or teachers--

I'm not elaborating it much for now

Maybe there would be updates idk--

Oda forces

→ Nobunaga Oda (Academic Head/Economics teacher)

He's gonna have a separate drawer in his office FILLED with candies

That drawer has a lock on it all the time (he doesn't want Hideyoshi to find out about it)

→ Hideyoshi Toyotomi (history teacher)

Really looks up to the department head

Very patient with all the students and will help each and every single one of them :)

You'd see him in the halls A LOT

so be careful. If you get caught breaking the rules you WILL be lectured by him

He keeps a check on every teacher's health too- also he would tell you to take it easy if he sees that you're not well

Also pretty good at giving motivational speech

→ Mitsuhide Akechi (computer science)

Okay hear me out. This man will be GOOD with computers and technology.

The event stories prove it

He's the teacher you'll go to every time there's something wrong with your iPad

And he WILL tease you endlessly

→ Mitsunari Ishida (Maths teacher)

For obvious reasons.

Our clumsy but very smart angel.

He'll be very kind. And calmly teach you if you're having trouble with a math problem no matter how many times you come to him

But no matter what you do, you won't be able to get his attention if he's reading

The janitor has caught him several times in the library reading books in a secluded corner when it's late in the night

Librarians sometimes have to kick him out

→ Masamune Date (food tech)

Yes.

I think it's self explanatory (I don't have anything to say about him I'm sorry-)

You'd always. ALWAYS. catch him at the farmers market.

→ Ieyasu Tokugawa (Biology/ chemistry teacher)

Yes.

He knows his stuff when it comes to plant and medicine

He'd be very cranky if you come to his with a question but he will answer it in full detail

He does NOT like the math teacher

The math teacher and the physics teacher seem to constantly fawn over him which he does not enjoy.

→ Keiji Maeda (Drama/music teacher)

Pretty self explanatory this one.

He and the literature teacher are good friends :3

Best friends in fact.

He's the cheery teacher. Very enthusiastic.

→ Ranmaru Mori (teacher assistant)

The principal's assistant to be more specific

Running around doing errands for Nobunaga. Looks very cute and is very helpful

The students love him

Kasugayama forces

→ Kenshin Uesugi (specialist PE teacher/sports department head)

Martial arts. Fencing. Horse riding. Swimming. Sword fighting. You name it

This guys knows EVERYTHING

he trains students in these sports for competitions.

The group sports activities go to the other gym teacher

Very cold. And seems very rude and icy. But will teach you if you ask for his help

Also do NOT expect him to go easy on you

It's your first time learning judo? Will TOO bad. You will be thoroughly beaten up by this guy

→Shingen Takeda (DT/department head)

The hot teacher who's at the carpentry workshop

Many students attend the workshop JUST to see him

Very nice. Flirt to everything that breathes

Loves sweets just like the academics Department head.

But doesn't like Nobunaga at all

→Yukimura Sanada (PE teacher)

The worst PE teacher you'll ever have 💀

Doesn't know how to talk to students or teachers which result in him getting some pretty snarky comments

Is in charge of preparing sports teams for sports competitions

Does not like Kenshin's guys but has to put up with them

He's best friends with the physics teacher and they sometimes show experiments together (yuki is the lab rat of course)

→Sasuke Sarutoki (Physics teacher)

That fun physics teacher that shows experiments in the class

Uses memes in his lectures

All his lectures are extremely fun

The students are often confused as to how does he always has a straight face

The PE teacher is his guinea pig at times

The sports department head has some beef with him for some reason

→ Yoshimoto Imagawa (Arts teacher)

The guy LOVES art and appreciates it to his fullest

This job was MEANT for him

Will appreciate your art and also give you pointers if you ask for it

Very charming

Students fawn over him

Has a very soothing voice along with a pretty face

→ Kanetsugu Naoe (Literature teacher)

Teaches English along with Japanese

Very strict

He's pretty and has little fangs but the students are afraid of him

A very good teacher

But also does some very strict marking in tests

Do not try to fight with him cause he will point out all the grammatic errors

Lone forces

→ Kicho (linguistics teacher)

Teaches other foreign languages

Like French, Chinese, Korean, Spanish, German, arabic, Russian. You name it.

This guy is a genius

He and the computer tech teacher are cousins

Seems very tired always (cough blackholes cough)

→ Motonari Mouri (portugese teacher)

Yes.

No comment on him.

Those who know him well will probably get it.

Will teach you every single curse word there is >:D

→ Kennyo (History teacher/ religious studies)

He does not like how modern studies are taking over

No phones allowed in his class

Very calm but also hella intimidating

Uhhh- does not put up well with the Computer tech teacher's antiques

Usually eats alone outside with cats.

Animals love him <3

Mai

→ Mai Mitsuzaki (Textiles teacher)

Das right. Mah girl gets her own category

The most fashionable teacher on campus

Everyone loves her

Shingen, Masa and she are the DT trio

Will teach you all there is to know about clothes and fashion

Designs the best clothes

She should be a designer.

Tags: cause idk who wants to be tagged--

@ikesenanigans (we came up with these together<3)

@rubia8 @bakersgrief @nightvers @ginshoujo @y2ashlee

UHHHH IDK WHO ELSE :(

Anyways Enjoy :D

This is my first hc that i wrote--

Leave in the comments whatever else you want to add? Idk how this works bro- (　-̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥᷄◞ω◟-̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥᷅ )

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divinesolas · 2 years ago

Text

Econ tutor | 100 Follower Special

Summary: You're failing econ and you need to pass this semester. When you asked your professor he told you he would assign you a tutor, Ethan Landry.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x Fem!reader

Warnings: SLOWBURN, fluffy, he fell first and fell harder, no ghostface au! Ooc characters (Happy friend group laugh out loud), ethan gives me peanut allergy vibes, misunderstanding trope, strangers to friends to lovers, not proofread.

word count: 9.3k

Looking at the grade from your most recent test on canvas you can only groan and put your head in your hands, You suck at econ. Econ aka economics is one of the worst classes ever invented.

You couldn't fail this class, you needed it to graduate and you definitely weren't repeating it especially when you paid a lot of money to take it. As a freshman at Blackmore University you needed to take econ for your degree and it sucks.

You should email your professor and ask if he's free. You draft out an email and during his open hours you send it to ask if he has any advice for you to improve your grade. Just like any other professor he of course does not answer you within a reasonable time and all you can do is stress out for the next week.

He finally gets back to you and tells you to meet him after your last class. You dreadfully walk your way to his class and knock on the door. "Come in." You open the door and see your professor standing by his desk with a boy who must be the same age standing stiffly near him.

You make your way towards them and you feel confused, Did you get the time wrong? No, you repeatedly checked the time and date so you can't be wrong.

Your questions are quickly answered as he begins to speak. "This is Ethan Landry, he's a star student and he's agreed to tutor you and prepare you for the final." The final was a couple months away as it was only just the beginning of the second semester and you needed to pass it to pass the class.

You look at Ethan who smiled as soon as you looked at, "It's nice to meet you." "It's nice to meet you too." He's not bad to look at, at all. He's got a nice smile and curly hair, he wears a plain black hoodie and blue jeans with sneakers. He's cute.

The professor goes over some other things like scheduling and how you two should scheduling meeting days. Once you two are dismissed you are standing outside of his room with him.

"So, could I get your number?" He looks at you shocked, his face slightly red, "You know, so I can text you and we schedule a day to meet." He looks embarrassed, "Oh right."

You hand him your phone and he puts his number in and hands it back. An awkward silence falls over you as you bounce heel to toe. "So.... When are you free?"

"What?" "You know, like for our first session." You're shocked his face can get anymore red, "Right! I'm free any day. I never really have anything planned. Oh my god that sounds so lame I mean I have plans sometimes just not anytime soon-""Ethan." You're laughing. He's really cute.

He's looking down at his feet as he kicks some of the pebbles on the ground. "I'm sorry I'm not laughing at you. Promise." He nods. seemingly not believing in you as you continue. "So, What about thursday? I get out of my liberal arts class at 2 then I'm free for the rest of the day."

He nods, "I get out of algebra at 2:30 if you're willing to wait." You nod as you smile. “That's fine, We could meet in the library?” He nods, “yes that works.” You smile as he lifts his head, “I really want to thank you for doing this, I really appreciate it.” He nods and scratches the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, “It's no problem really.”

You begin to walk back and wave “I'll see you.” You turn back before he gets to say anything and head to your dorm for the day, exhausted after your morning classes. He seems like the nerdy smart type and that’s good because you really need help with this class. You should find a way to thank him for doing this.

It's monday so you have a couple days until your first session. For some odd reason you can't wait to study econ.

–

‘Do you have a favorite dessert?’ Ethan can barely believe his eyes at the text you just sent him. It's Tuesday and he doesn't have class on Tuesday so he spends the morning at the gym, sweat dripping down his face as he reads over the text you sent. Dessert? Why were you asking him about the dessert? “It's the first text you sent him other than a confirmation text to confirm it was actually his number (a text he totally did not stress over for about ten minutes before he answered)

He couldn't believe his luck when his econ professor had come up to him and asked if he would tutor you since you were failing the class. You being the person he had a massive crush on since he first saw you walking around campus, then he found out you were in the same econ class as him and began to sit closer to you during class so he could look at you. Not in a stalker way of course. He didn't mention this to anyone, especially not Chad, his roommate and the person who he considers to be his best friend. Chad would definitely find a way to make fun of him and beg him to ask you out at any given moment.

When he was talking to you yesterday he felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest. He made a fool out of himself and he was embarrassed, of course the first time he tries to talk to you he ruins it. You laughed at him, your laugh is nice so is your smile it's so much better when directed at him than seeing you smile from across the room. “What's got you smiling like that huh?” Chad had walked up to him with a curious look on his face and a grin. “Nothing.” Ethan quickly turned off his phone as Chad crossed his arms, “Nope what is it.” Ethan sighs, “It's nothing really.” His phone dings and before Ethan can blink, Chad is snatching it out of his hand, “Hey!” You texted again, ‘also do you have any allergies?’ Ethan tries to get the phone back but Chad is looking at it with a tilted head, “Y/n? With heart next to it dude you never told me you got a girlfriend.” Ethan manages to get the phone back and shakes his head, “She's not my girlfriend.” Chad now has a look on his face that Ethan does not like, “Oh you got a crush on the girl, got it.”

Ethan groans as he sits down on the bench, This isn't good. “I dont think ive heard of her, I'm gonna ask Tara if she knows her.” Chad pulls out his phone. “Please don't.” “aaaaaaand send, oh no too late.” Ethan groans and lays back on the bench with his head in his hands. This is the worst, exactly what he was trying to avoid. Ethans phone buzzes and he looks at it, ‘No way your nerd ass has a crush on that hottie LOL.’ He throws the phone on the ground next to him and covers his face. Chad laughs, “Oh she works with Tara and is her lab partner, ooo she sent me her insta.” Ethan’s ears burn, he is so embarrassed. “Oh she's cute, ask her out.”

Ethan finally sits up, “No way.” Chad rolls his eyes, “Dude why not.” Ethan shakes his head, “She doesn't like me. She doesn't even know me.” Chad sits on the bench next to him, “If she doesn't like you then why the hell is she asking you if you're allergic to anything?” “I dont know im her tutor for econ-” “woah woah woah woah back up.” Ethan sighs, “You're her tutor??” “Starting thursday.” He can't wait for Thursday, it had only been a day since he found out and he could barely contain his excitement. “Oooo the perfect opportunity to ask. her. out.” “Chad-” “Think about it, you two are sitting cozy in your bed going over notes-” “Why are we in my bed?” “And you make a move on her, it's perfect.” “You're ridiculous.” “I'm not being ridiculous, I'm being serious, ask her out.”

Ethan stands up and cleans up his stuff to leave, “Nope and this is exactly why i didn't want to tell you.” Chad shakes his head, “Don’t worry man I got you.” “Don't even think about it.”

–

‘Um, I like cookies.’

‘Allergies? I'm allergic to peanuts.’

You had settled on making him a dessert as a gift most people like desserts right?. Cookies it is. You started researching different recipes and planned out a day to go get ingredients when you got a text from tara.

‘Hey, are you free on friday?’

You groan and hope she's not about to ask you to cover a shift for her, Fridays are usually a free day for you, no classes and no school so you're free to do what you want and you do not want to spend another Friday covering a shift.

‘If you need me to cover a shift for you, no but if it's for anything else then yes.’

‘You wouldnt cover for me 🙁’

‘No way.’

‘Im joking, you're coming with me to go bowling with my friends. Five. be dressed i'm gonna come pick you up.’

‘Do I have a choice? You never invite me to these things.’

‘Nope. love you <;3’

Why does she want you to come? It's an odd request because despite the fact you two are close you've never been invited to hang with her friend group, you don't even know who’s in said group. You thumbs down her last message before going back to your cookie research.

–

“She’s coming!” “Nice!” Ethan glares at Tara and Chad as they high five and peck lips in his dorm. “What are you two talking about?” Tara smiles at him as she moves to leave for the night, “Oh nothing, just got you a bowling partner for friday, you're welcome.” Ethan tilts his head confused, “I thought Quinn was gonna be my partner.” His sister, Quinn, while not a main member of their friend group, usually joined them for these sorts of hang outs, “She cant make it she needs to make up a test for physics.”

Ethans earlier conversation with Chad plays in his mind as he looks at them, “What did you two do?” “Nothing! Goodnight!” “Tara!” She runs out the door and he turns to Chad, “Don't you dare tell me-” “You're welcome.”

Ethan flops onto his bed and sighs. He should have never let Chad find out and now Tara knew and that only made it worse. He runs his hands over his face, he really likes you and he doesn't want to ruin it, now he would be partnered with you for bowling and the worst thing is he sucks at bowling.

–

It was wednesday and you were in lab with tara doing some research lab, she was clearly not interested in it though as she started talking to you.

"So I heard you're getting tutored for econ." you turn to her shocked, "how did you hear about that?" she rolls her eyes, "um i'm dating chad?" "I know? what does that have to do with anything?" she gives you a dumbfounded look, "Ethan is Chad's roommate? And my friend? did you seriously not know this, he's gonna be there on friday."

oh. "No?!? why would i know that tara i usually tune out whenever you start talking about him-" "hey what's that supposed to mean-" "it means i don't want to hear about you and what your boyfriend are up to especially knowing you-" "knowing me?-" "you're gonna say something weird so i tune out-" "I would never." You give her a blank stare and she shrugs, "You're just mad I have a hot boyfriend. I knew it."

You groan and look at your paper and begin to work, "definitely not jealous tara." "sure...." for a few moments it's quiet and you hope that's the end of her questioning but of course, "there has to be a guy you think is cute."

You look at her, "What?" "Is there a guy you think is cute?" "Tara, stop pushing your relationship agenda onto me. I don't need a boyfriend- ""or a girl I don't judge-" "tara." "One person just named one."

you roll your eyes, "i don't know," You think and your mind automatically drifts back to ethan. You two haven't texted since you asked him about desserts but right now when asked if there's a guy you think is cute all you can think about are his dreamy eyes and curly hair. "Ethans pretty cute." You blurt out before you can stop yourself and slap your hand over your mouth, tara grins. You don't like that grin.

"I see...." "I didn't mean to say that-" "okay...." "Tara forget about it." "No way." she pulls her phone and texts someone while you can only look at her with horror. "Who are you texting?" "nobody." she smiles as she puts her phone down and goes back to work, "Oh come on we need to finish this paper." "I hate you."

Thursday had rolled around faster than you thought it would. Yesterday after your work shift you walked to the grocery store and picked up what you needed to make a (hopefully) good batch of cookies. Walking out of your liberal arts class you walk back to your dorm and pick up the cookies you made and make your way to the library.

You sit down at one of the empty tables and text him where you're sitting. You don't receive a response until 2:30, 'Okay! I'll meet you there, just need to run back and grab my econ textbook.'

He walks in at 2:45, he spots you and smiles as he moves towards you. "Hi." "Hey there." He sits across from you. He looks cute today, he's wearing a red sweater with black jeans, and his hair looks really soft. "So..." You realize you're staring and look down at your notes you had pulled out. “Um….” It's awkward, his face is red and he’s fiddling around with his papers. You need to end this before you guys just end up sitting here in silence. “Do you mind if we start with the recent test, I'm sorry but it's just… It was really bad.” You laugh and he smiles, “No I mean yes! Of course we can.” As soon as you begin you fall into an easy conversation, He’s way more confident while going over Econ, you realize it's kind of hot that he’s so smart.

“I'm sorry but I don't know how much more econ I can take for the day.” You rub your head as he laughs. It's now after six and you're starving. “That's okay, we can wrap up for the day and continue next time.” You two pack up and walk out the library together, the sun is set so it's dark out and he looks at you worried, “I didn't even notice the sun had set.” You say looking at the sky, “Please it's my fault let me walk you to your dorm.” You laugh and shake your head, he looks really worried and apologetic, it's cute. “Ethan really it's okay not your fault at all, probably mine to be honest i really didn't get all that inflation stuff.” You really sucked at anything with money, especially if it's in economics, you two had to sit there for an hour as he went over just that one question with you.

“No.. really it was- i mean please let me walk you there. I would feel bad letting you walk on your own, not that you can't take care of yourself of course but you know it's late and there are a lot of weird guys walking around right now i kind of seem like a weird guy don't i shit-""Ethan!” You're laughing, he really is so cute. He stares at you amazed at you laughing before he looks down, “I'm sorry, I can go-'' He quickly turns to leave but you grab his arm to stop him. His arm feels muscular, does he have muscles? No… is he really underneath all those baggy hoodies and sweaters he wears? He turns back to you alarmed, “Walk me home? Maybe you're right there are a lot of weirdos around and I need a big strong guy over 6 ft to protect me, don't you think?”

You squeeze his arm reassuringly as his face burns and his ears go red. You're teasing him, you look at the look on his face and think about apologizing before he speaks again, “Yes.”

You swear you saw him puff his chest slightly. You almost laugh but after seeing his reaction last time you dont and smile at him as you let go of his arm, "my dorm is this way." you lead him and he walks next to you side by side. "Wait here." He switches places with you so he's next to the road, He's sweet. You two fall into a comfortable silence, it's nice. He bumps into you slightly as you walk, his arms are warm. Your hands brush against each other but before anything else can come from it you arrive at your door.

"Thank you for everything I mean, I really appreciate it." "It's no problem really." You nod as he turns to leave, he makes it a few steps before you call after him, "Wait! shit i can't believe i almost forgot." He turns to you confused, "is everything-" "I made these for you." Youre hold out a container for him and he stares at it, "They're cookies."

He looks at you in disbelief, "You mentioned you liked them so I thought I would make you some, you know, as a thank you for tutoring me." He stares at you not moving, "if you don't want them that's okay too i promise i didn't poison them." You try to awkwardly joke, feeling a little defeated he didn't want the cookies. He snaps back and shakes his head furiously, "no no no no i want them thank you im just, really shocked." He takes the container out of your hands and holds them as if he fears they're gonna be taken away from him. "Thank you." he says quietly, looking at the container.

"no thank you." You walk back and get to your door, still standing there looking at you. You smile at him and wave "Bye I'll see you tomorrow!"

He's frozen outside your dorm as he stares at where you were just standing. He's gripping the container tightly in disbelief. You had made him cookies. The last time someone made him cookies was his mom who died years ago. He looks down at the container as his hands begin to shake.

He realizes how crazy he must look, standing outside your dorm so he quickly begins to walk to his dorm. His face hurts from how hard he's grinning, all the time he thinks he can't fall any deeper for you he does. Today was the best day ever, you two sat there for hours. He felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest every time you looked at him while he was going over a topic. When you got so excited every time something finally made sense and you looked at him, your face covered with a smile, he felt like he couldn't breathe.

When you were asking him questions all he could do was stare at you. You were the most beautiful girl in the world to him. He opens his door and enters his dorm, the large grin never leaving his face. "Awe look at you." Chad was leaning against a wall and smiling, "You're adorable." Ethan ignores Chad as he moves past him to his bed. He places the container on his desk and his bag on his chair then sits on his bed to take off his shoes"what's this huh?" Chad inspects the container of cookies with a teasing look. "Put that down."

Chad opens the container, "Cookies? Where did you get these? Can I have one?" Ethan rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "Get out." Chad hums his thoughts and his eyes light up, "did y/n make these for you? oooooo i get it loverboy you don't want me to have any of the sweet cookies your girlfriend made with love for you." Ethan stands and snatches the container out of his hands, "Shut up!" He's red and his grin still hasn't left, Chad looks happy. "So anything fun happens?" Ethan shakes his head, "We just did econ that's all." "boring.'' Chad leaves not before yelling a quick ask her out. Ethan begins to rethink the day. Every Time he thinks he's done something right with you he always finds a way to mess it up.

He takes a shower and changes into his clothes for bed and as he's about to sleep he eyes the container of cookies. He takes one and bites into it. It's sweet.

You close the room to your dorm and sigh. The tutor session kicked your ass, you kicked off your shoes and threw your tote bag to the ground and layed down on your bed. Today went well, you were shocked when you looked at your notes you could actually comprehend what any of it meant. It was all thanks to ethan.

You were shocked you found yourself enjoying his presence so much. It was weird, you didn't expect yourself to like him as much as you did. He was smart, kind, he made you laugh, he didn't degrade you when you didn't understand the topics he went through it with you slowly and made sure to go over anything thoroughly, he wasn't like most of the other guys on campus who were douchebags. you were glad you got ethan as your econ tutor.

It's now Friday, almost five as you put the finishing touches on your outfit. As you get a text from tara, 'HERE COME OUT NOW' you roll your eyes and grab your bag and walk out the door.

A large group of people are out there chatting, you don't recognize most of them. The door closes behind you and all the heads turn towards you.

"Hey dude." "Hey tara." Tara rushes over and gives you a hug. "So this is mindy, chad, anika," They all smile at you, you notice mindy and anika holding hands and standing side by side, anika waves while mindy nods. Chad is standing behind Tara and gives you a knowing smile, "and of course you know ethan." Ethan. He's standing in the back with his hands in his jeans, he's wearing a blue polo shirt with a black jacket. He looks really cute.

You smile back at him and look into his eyes. He locks eyes with you and he smiles. "Wait, you two know each other?" Mindy asks with an accusing finger. "I tutor her for econ." "really?" Anika looks back at Ethan who nods.

Tara claps and gets everyone's attention, "enough standing around let's move guys." Tara wraps her arm around chads and begins to walk, mindy and anika following closely behind leaving you and ethan walking side by side.

"I really liked the cookies." You turn to him as he looks away, you smile as a warm feeling fills your chest. "I'm glad."

"So did i." Chad looks back with a smile, "you had one?" Ethan asks with a glare, "we split one, you need to make some for me." Tara calls from the front. "I will as long as you stop asking me to cover for you at work." She gasps, "I would never." You give her a blank look as she laughs.

"So how long have you two been studying together?" Anika looks back at you with a smile, "um, we only had one session yesterday, he's supposed to be tutoring me until the final." You look at Ethan who has a big smile on his face. Anika looks at the two of you and gives mindy a knowing look.

An easy conversation begins to flow between you all as you walk to the bowling alley. You sneak glances at Ethan who wears a grin on his face while everyone in the group teases him for whatever they 're currently talking about. You like the way he acts around his friends, he's a little more confident as he shuts Chad up for making fun of his messy room or arguing with mindy about some horror movie. It was nice, the night hadn't even begun but you felt like you hadn't had this much fun in forever.

You all finally arrive at the place and they all rush to get their shoes. "So the pairs will be, me and tara, anika and mindy then y/n and ethan." "Oh we'll be in pairs?" you turn to ethan and smile, "we're gonna win." His face is red but he nods, "Definitely."

"I'd like to see you try dude." Chad slaps his back he leans in close to you, "fyi he's terrible at bowling." "Dude!" Chad runs away before Ethan can say anything else. "I'm not good either, it's okay, as long as I do better than Tara I don't care." To this he laughs, "Oh we definitely need to do better than tara." You two laugh as you go to collect your shoes and pick your ball.

"Can you hurry or else I'm gonna put you last." You walk over to Tara and roll your eyes, "you're gonna put me last anyways." She gasps, "I would-" "never yes I know." She pouts as you sit next to anika.

Ethan makes his way over and sits down next to you. The order is decided to be anika, mindy, you, ethan, chad then tara.

As anika takes her turn Chad starts talking to you. "So how long have you and Tara been friends?" You think before answering, "um, I had been working at this place for a couple years and I had heard about her when she was hired. Never got the chance to talk with her until we started working the same shifts. We got along and soon found out we attend the same school. We got the same lab class, she became my partner and she's been bothering me ever since." "Hey."

"So you've been living in New York your whole life?" Ethan asks, "yup born and raised." Mindy cheers anika up as she misses her shot, Mindy walks up to take her turn, not before giving anika a kiss and anika sits down. “So what are we talking about?” You guys flow into an easy conversation, mostly about yourself, like your major or what your interests are before it's your turn.

“Can I admit something?” you turn to the group, “I have no clue how to bowl.” Tara looks at you shocked, “No…” You laugh, “I seriously never have before.” “Well I can-” “Ethan can show you how to.” Chad is quick to interrupt anika, the two share a look, “oooooo yeah yeah yeah yeah can definitely show you right ethan.” The rest of them start to encourage him as he gives them a look you can't read. “I don't really care who teaches me, I just wanna throw this thing away.” Ethan stands, “I can do it.” He moves to take off his jacket and you're greeted by the sight of his muscular arms.

Wow. He really does have muscles. You stare at his arms as he walks towards you. You've always thought he was cute but he just got so much hotter. His shoulders are large, and the polo on him is tighter than you thought, his chest pressing against the fabric.

You look at his face finally and see it's very red and he's standing stiff. Oh my god you were blatantly checking him out. you turn your back towards him and go to pick up your ball. The group behind you laughs as Ethan walks towards you. you put your fingers in the holes and pick up the ball.

"So when you're throwing it you want your arm to be straight..." You try to correct your arm position and look at him, "like this?" he shakes his head, "no it's more... um do you mind if i..." you nod as he comes closer to readjusting you himself, his warm body is basically pressed against you as he moves your arms and shoulders slightly. "That's better." It's a small whisper in your ear but your face burns.

God when did he get so hot. No he always was but right now it's all you can think about. Fuck. He moves his hand to cover yours, "and when you throw it it's something like... this." he sways your hand and you let go of the ball. You watch as the ball rolls and it knocks all the pins down.

"No way." You cheer as you turn to face him, "I did it!" you hug him and he stands stiff. You let go and turn towards the rest of the group who clap. "Good job." "Nice!"

"That was really good." His ears are red as you mumbles out the words. "Well it's all thanks to my wonderful teacher." You smile at him and he looks away, "no...."

"enough flirting then it's your turn." Mindy yells as the rest of the group laughs. You walk back to the rest of the group and sit down and watch ethan. He stands still for a few seconds before shaking it off and walking towards his ball.

You had no clue what Chad was talking about because Ethan continued to get strikes, if not really good scores for the rest of the night. You're shocked by this and seemingly the rest of the group is too.

When you go to the bathroom the group confronts him."When the hell did you get so good at bowling? Have you been practicing?" Ethans face is shocked and he quickly blinks his eyes and shakes his head, "No..." Chad catches this and laughs, "No way you've really been practicing." "It's not true!" His face feels hot and he quickly looks down at his feet.

"Why did you practice?" Anika asks, "Clearly because he didn't want to humiliate himself in front of his little girlfriend." Tara laughs and Ethan feels like he wants to curl up into a ball and die.

Yes he had been practicing, any hour he could squeeze in since finding out you would be joining them for bowling night he came down to the bowling alley to practice. He was bad, the worst of the group at least and now he can compete with Chad in score. You come back soon enough, you question what they were talking about but they all just laugh.

You cheer as Ethan throws his last strike signifying your win. “We did it!” You hug him as he walks over, unlike last time he hugs you back and squeezes you tightly. You pull back and look at him and smile, “I didn't know you were that good.”

He smiles sheepishly and shakes his head, “I'm not-” “Yes you are.” You slap his chest lightly and he looks shocked. “Stop putting yourself down, you carried my ass through that game, admit it.” He shakes his head, his grin is large as he looks down, “No-” “Stop it!” You turn back to the rest of the group who all have grins on their face, “What?”

“Oh nothing.” Tara says as she stands up, “It's later than i thought lets go i have to open tomorrow.” “Do you really? I'm close.” “Shit you're so lucky.” “Am i really i have to close for your messy ass.” She shoves you and you laugh.

You all leave together and walk back to the dorns. When you all get there they all turn to you. “You passed congrats.” You look confused, “What?” “I told you guys she was great.” “I wish Sam could have made it.” “What's happening?” “Welcome to the friend group!” You think before realization hits you, “Oh!” You laugh, “Thanks guys.”

They all say their goodbyes and anika gives you a hug before they all walk off to their dorms. Ethan stays with you and fiddles with his hands. “I thought i should walk you to your dorm, its-” “Late, yes it is, thank you my knight in shining armor.” He looks away and you two walk side by side to your dorm.

You admire him, as you two walk in silence. At your door you say goodbye and wave and he waves back at you as you close your door.

–

It had only been a few weeks since then, study sessions were going really well. You two began to grow closer over the weeks but there still seemed to be something blocking you two from getting closer. As for the friend group, you soon met Sam and Quinn who were more than welcoming to you. You watched as Quinn would tease her brother and how embarrassed he would get when she would tell you embarrassing stories about him from when he was younger.

You had just finished up a successful study session with ethan and you two walked out the library, you pulled out the container of cookies for him and handed them to him with a smile, “Here you go kind sir.” He smiled and shook his head, “Thank you. You know you don't have to do this for me everytime.” You laugh it off, “I need to thank you somehow.”

He stood there with a contemplating look on his face. It had started to stay lighter outside later in the day so you didn't need him to walk you back to your dorm (He still did) but now he realized you two could do something else instead of just walking home. “Do you want to eat them with me?” You look at him confused, “I mean.. There a cafe down the block we can go there get some coffee or whatever and eat them together.” The look on your face must have sent the wrong message because he immediately starts to back track. “I mean if you want to i don't want to do anything you don't want to its a stupid idea anyway i'll just walk you back to-” “Ethan i'd love to.” He gulps, “Really?” You nod with a grin, “seriously. I mean i made them with browned butter this time they have to be my best batch yet.” You two began to walk side by side to the cafe, you made some small talk about if the group was hanging out tomorrow and he answered that they wanted to go to sams for dinner. When you two arrived he turned and asked if you wanted something to drink, you stared at the menu until something caught your eye and asked for that. He ordered your drink and a hot chocolate for him. He pulls out his card and pays as you insist you should, “You made the cookies let me pay.” You give him a look as you reluctantly agree.

Once you two have your drinks you two decide to sit at one of the benches outside since it was good weather out. He pulls out the container of cookies and admires them, “They do look really good.” “What did you not think they would.” You're kidding but he looks up alarmed, “i didn't mean-” “i'm kidding ethan.” you put a hand on his arm and squeeze it reassuringly.

He smiles and nods as he takes two cookies and hands one to you, “cheers?” you take it and link them together, “Cheers.”

you both took a bite and he immediately hummed, “this really is so good.” “I know.” you both laugh.

as he dunks his cookie into his hot chocolate you look at him as you think to yourself that he looks so content while eating the cookie.

“Is there a reason why you like cookies?”

he looks up at you with a shocked face, “what?” you shrug, “i mean there are so many other desserts and most people prefer other things so is there a reason? other than that they taste good of course.”

he laughs and shakes his head, “um.” He coughs before he continues, “my mom used to make cookies when i was young.” you look at him shocked he never talks about his mom. “Whenever I would do well on a test or in soccer she would make a big batch of cookies and would sit with me and eat them with me with a big glass of milk.” He laughs with a smile on his face, “whenever i would get a milk mustache she would laugh and wipe it off with the biggest smile on her face.” His voice quiets down and you can see his hands begin to shake.

“ethan.” you grab his hand and squeeze it, “i'm sorry.” he wipes his eyes with his other hand then places it on top of yours. “its okay ethan.” he shakes slightly as he begins to cry, “i miss her, so much.”

You feel like something is squeezing at you heart as you you watch him you get up from you seat and he looks up at you in shock, you move to sit next to him and wrap your arms around him, “Im so sorry ethan.” he leans into you and cries, “I'm sorry-” “you shouldn't apologize, its okay.” he sniffles as he looks up at you, “Thank you.”

–

Your feelings for Ethan grew into something more but you didn't know how to put it in words. You soon understood them when it was the beginning of may, only two more weeks until your final and you were beginning to stress out. Ethan told you not to worry and everything would go well but you couldn't help it. Even though your test scores had improved and you began to understand a lot of the material you couldn't help but worry over the class.

During one of your own personal study sessions in the library you realize you ran out of paper for your binder and needed to go get more. You were standing in the subway waiting for the train to arrive stressed out of your mind, this was the last thing you needed to happen right now and you had no clue how to calm down. Once the train arrived you walked on and realized there were no open seats, of course, great. You walk over to one of the poles but you see Ethan sitting on one of the benches. A wave of unexpected relief flows through your bones seeing him you didn't know why.

He notices you and smiles, he gestures you towards him and you realize the seat next to him is open just being covered by his bag. You smile in relief and rush over. “Thank you oh my god you're a lifesaver.” He just laughs, “It's not a problem.”

The train begins to move as he turns to you, “So what are you doing out?” You sigh and the worry begins to flood back into your body. “I was studying econ and then I ran out of paper for my binder so I have to go get some and I'm just so stressed out because I need to do well-” “Hey.” He places his hand on yours and you turn to him.

He's giving you a pleading look as he squeezes your hand, “Please relax,” You sigh, “I cant-” “Yes you can just relax, hey… um i'll come with you to go get the binder paper.” “Really?” “Yeah definitely.”

You smile at him, “Okay.” Now feeling a little more calm you look in your bag for your airpods to listen to some music but soon realize you left them at your dorm. You groan and set your back down by your feet causing Ethan to look at you alarmed, “I left my earbuds at my dorm.”

He looks down at the phone in his hair and hesitates before taking out the other airpod he wasn't wearing from his case and handing it to you, “Here you can… listen with me, if you want to I mean.” You look at his case and realize he has one of the cheetos airpod cases and laugh before looking back at him and taking it, “Thank you, cute case.”

He looks at it and shakes his head before shoving it in his bag, “Quinn got it for me.”

You put the airpod in and are immediately stunned, “Taylor swift?” He had been listening to all the girls you loved before and he suddenly looked down at his phone, “I can change it-” “No i was just shocked i like this song.”

While you sat next to him you felt a sense of peace wash over you and you relaxed for what was probably the first time this whole week. You lean against him unconsciously and feel him stiffen before he relaxes. You realize his hand is still on yours and you lace your fingers with his as you close your eyes. No you weren't tired, you just wanted to bask in his presence for a moment with his heartbeat near your ear and his breath tickling your head.

You liked him. It didn't hit you like an unexpected realization; it felt freeing to finally put what you were feeling into words. You smile to yourself and move closer to him.

It's been another week since then and you were struggling to decide if you were really going to confess at the end of the school year. You had decided since the school year is almost over and He would be going home for the summer and you wouldn't be able to see him so if you confessed and he rejected you it wouldn't be as awkward because he would leave and you two wouldnt see each other again until the new school year but the idea of him never talking to you again made you feel sick.

It was the last wednesday of the school year, the last day before your last study session with ethan which was also the last day before your econ test. There was a party, you didn't know who was throwing it but Tara practically begged you to come so here you were sitting on a couch next to anika as you two were chatting. “I told you that dress would look super cute on you.” “Thanks anika.” You looked around the room for the one person you were hoping to see, “Where's ethan?” Anika sits up and looks around before shrugging, “I have no clue.”

You begin to worry as you frantically look and can't find him, “I'm gonna go look for him.” Anika nods as you get up and begin making your way through the party.

Your about to turn a corner before you freeze at the voice you hear, “Ask her out man.” Chad. “No way i've told you this” Ethan. Who was he talking about? “C'mon man you're hot as hell just ask her out already.”

All you can hear is ethan sigh, “She doesn't-” “Oh shut up man just ask her out.” Who the hell are they talking about? Does Ethan like somebody? A pit forms in your stomach as all you can feel is dread. “Shes sitting over there man ask her out.” Now you feel sick, there's somebody Ethan likes, and it's not you. You back up and walk away. You head back to anika who has your bag and gives you an alarmed look at your upset face as you grab your bag from her side. “Is something wrong? What happened?” You shake your head as your eyes water, you attempt to say something but you can't. As she moves to stand up you rush out of the house. You can't be in there anymore, the amount of heartbreak you feel is miserable and you aren't even dating the guy.

You rush back to your dorm and lean against the door as you shut it. This is so embarrassing, here you are sitting and crying over him while he probably walked over to that person and asked them out. You managed to make it to your bed and flop on it, crying yourself to sleep.

–

“Have you guys seen y/n?'' Anika had come up to them frantically as Chad and Ethan remained talking against the wall. Chad had been begging Ethan to finally ask you out all night but Ethan kept on refusing. He couldn't risk what you two have especially since it meant so much to him. What had started out as a simple infatuation had turned into so much more, you meant so much to him and to lose you would be horrid.

“No? Is something wrong? Thought she was sitting with you.” Chad took a sip of his drink after he answered, “She went to go looking for e, then she came back and looked like she was about to cry then she ran out.” ethan felt sick, had some guy said something to you? “Like she ran out of the house? Shit.” Chad put down his drink and turned towards ethan, “You gotta go look for her man.” “Please e? Im really worried.” Ethan put down his drink and walked away before they could say anything else. “I'm gonna ask around.” “Me too.”

Shit. you weren't answering your phone, “please answer please” he was mumbling and shaking his phone as if that could make you answer. He decided to just fuck it and run to your dorm to see if you were there. He knew the route like the back of his hand and he was booking it full speed. He was worried about you and was praying you were alright. Once he got to your dorm he pounded at the door, he knew you had a solo room luckily since your roommate transferred out in the beginning of the second semester and no one came to fill it. He calls you names to no answer, after a couple of minutes he's defeated and texts you if you're still at the party when the door opens and he quickly looks up at you.

–

Who the hell is pounding at your door? You don't know how long you've been asleep, it couldn't have been that long since it was still dark out. Annoyed and not wanting to talk to anybody, you attempt to block out the noise until you hear his voice. Ethan.

He was here and calling for you. you sat up quickly and walked towards the door before you stopped hesitantly in front of the door. What did he want? You didn't want to answer, just ignore him and move on but he sounded worried so you opened him. His face was red and his eyes were watery, he was breathing heavily, looked like he was out of breath, did he run all the way here? Seeing you he let out a sigh of relief. ‘Ethan-” “Are you alright?” You look at him alarmed. “Yeah um did something happen?”

It's awkward to look at or to talk to him but he can't seem to notice that right now, “Anika was worried she said you ran out looking upset.” Now you feel embarrassed, looking down at your feet, “Did somebody say something to you? Did something happen?-” You couldn't listen to him anymore, all you wanted to do is blurt it out but knowing it would ruin everything you can't, maybe you should just do it. You open your mouth but you quickly close it. You need to have him tutor you tomorrow. The day before the big test. You need him just for one more day. then you can set him free. “Im… im okay i promise, i'm sorry for worrying you, all of you.” You think over your next words carefully so as to not let the things you truly want to say split out. “I just was getting overwhelmed, parties are so loud you know?” You try to laugh but at the look on his face you stop and look down.

He walks closer and tries to grab your hands but you pull them away and try to smile at him, “Im really tired.” He now looks like he's about to cry, “Please be honest with me, did something happen? Is somebody bothering you?” Yes. “No, i promise.” What a liar. He looks like he wants to say more but if he really does he keeps his mouth shut and nods.

“We still on for tomorrow?” You hate yourself for asking but you need to make sure you haven't ruined anything. He looks at you confused, “Of course?” You nod and move towards your door, “Do you need anything I'm here-” “No really, it's okay Goodnight.” You don't wait for his response as you shut the door, the tears at their breaking point as you lean your head against the door. Why can't this just be easier?

–

He stares at the place you were once standing with a sad look on his face. You were lying, he could tell that easily but about what? He stands there and contemplates over it, maybe something did happen or maybe it.. Was something he did? No that couldn't be right, you two were acting perfectly normal this morning. But why were you acting like that with him now? You were never that stiff, you shut him out. It was weird and he didn't like it at all, he felt the urge to knock on the door again and comfort you, bring you into his arms so you can talk all out but he knows that that's not what you must want so he leaves.

He lets Chad know he won't be showing back up to the party and that you're fine. He hopes that when he goes to bed this will all be just a bad dream and tomorrow when he arrives at your study session everything will be just fine.

—

It is not just fine. It started off simple. You didn't text him in the morning like you always did. You arrive five minutes late which is odd since you're always the one that arrives first, you give the excuse you slept in late. He doesn't believe you but keeps his mouth shut. Worst of all you didn't make him any cookies this time. It became a habit, after every session you would give him a container of cookies (and a side one specifically for chad since he liked them so much) as a thank you. The session is awkward and very to the point, when he tries to joke with you like usual you brush him off and ask him to move on to the next topic. He felt awful, he asked you if something was wrong but you just said it was nothing. You had even wrapped up the session early, it was barely hitting four when you called it.

“Im just tired.” You pack up your things and give him a brief goodbye and rush to leave. He watches you go before he realizes he needs to do something, he cant let your relationship deteriorate like this. He runs after you and grabs your arm as you're standing outside.

“Ethan-” “I like you.” You look frozen as you stare at him, “I'm sorry if I did something wrong but I just want to get back to the way we were and I need you to know this now. You can forget about it-” “Ethan”

You try to interrupt him like you always do but he stops you, “Please.” His expression softens, “I need to do this.” You hesitate before you nod, he takes both of your hands in his as if he's afraid you're going to run away. “You can forget all about this if you want to but just know i like you so much and i hate this strain between us, whatever it is. Please tell me what i've done wrong so i can fix it and we can move on and you can make me more of your cookies and you can crack dumb econ jokes about the topics we're talking about or you can complain about your shift at work with tara and how she can never restock properly. Please tell me what i did wrong.” hes begging you, squeezing your hands so tightly, as he locks eyes with you, all you can feel is sincerity and love.

“Then who was the girl?” You ask as your voice wavers, he looks at you shocked, “What girl?” Your eyes water too, “I overheard you at the party.” He tilts his head confused, “What?” “At the party, when Chad was encouraging you to go ask the girl out.” He relaxes and gulps. “I was going to come find you, then I heard you and I just felt like shit because I was..” You trail off as he looks at you expectantly, “I was going to tell you that I like you.” His eyes widened and his mouth opened in shock, “Not that day of course tomorrow after the econ test.” “I was talking about you.” You shake your head, “Chad said she was sitting right there. I was sitting there.” He shakes his head, “no no no no no we couldn't see the couch from where we were standing so he was just pointing in the direction of the couch i swear i had thought you were there. I was talking about you. I only have eyes for you, for as long as I've known you it's always been you.”

You can only look at him in shock at the sincerity of his words and you move closer to him. You rip your hands from his and he has a really apologetic look on his face, as he's about to apologize you pull his face to meet yours and you kiss. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest as you feel love and relief as he kisses you back. He grabs your face and pulls you closer if that's even possible. You pull apart, breathing heavy as you two stare lovingly at each other with a smile. “I'm sorry ethan.” He shakes his head and gives you another kiss before answering. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

You smile at him, “soo…?” You're looking at him expectantly as he looks confused, “So?’ you scoff and shove him, “You're really bad at this.” Now he looks really confused, “Ugh. Ethan, will you be my boyfriend?” Now his eyes widen as he opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You laugh as you look at his red face. After a minute he manages to calm down, “Yes, I would love to be your boyfriend.” You two smile at kisses. You finally feel like you can breathe, this was perfect.

–

The next day you're in a large room writing in the last answer to the econ test. Ethan had finished earlier than you, that morning he promised to wait for you outside so once you hand it your test you rush out to see him and the rest of your friends. You see him and he turns to you and smiles as you make it to him he picks you up and twirls you around as you laugh. “So??? How did you do?!” Anika asks you with a big smile on her face. You keep your eyes locked on Ethan and his grinning face. “I think I did great, all thanks to my wonderful tutor.”

He shakes his head, “No, it was all you, beautiful.” You two kiss.

a/n: I hope you guys like this !!

tags: @bajadotcom

#ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x y/n #ethan landry x you #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry #scream six #scream vi #scream

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