#our professor told us ‘creeping’ means

[sugarushwriting]

ot7 vampire enhypen part (four)

back to school after ni-ki fudged up

ni-ki meets a stranger who happens to know his secrets

you also meet this stranger who has you questioning the boys and the situation

nsfw - towards the end

please comment share and reblog! but please don’t repost or translate!!

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

you walked on to campus monday morning and everyone acted like last week didn’t happen. the girl was doing better, can’t remember what happen, and the cops never found the culprit.

well, you were looking the culprit in the eyes right now as he was getting a lecture from his two elders.

“you may have classes without us, but you are to be home before 5 pm. all your classes end by 3. if we catch you one on one with any human, we will find a way to get you your own babysitter.” jay ranted to the youngest.

ni-ki nodded. “i understand and i won’t fuck up again, i promise.”

“don’t make a promise you may not be able to keep.” sunghoon stated.

“come on ni-ki, i will walk you to class. my first class isn’t until 11.” you said with a smile.

“and don’t be late.” jay pointed a finger at you. you stuck your tongue out.

linking arms with ni-ki you walked him to his first class which was at 9. it was currently 8:47 am.

ni-ki sighed. “will i ever have their trust?”

you sighed as well. “yes, but it’ll take awhile, okay? just give them time. they just worry and are hard on you because they care.”

while walking to class with ni-ki you noticed a girl with blonde hair watching the both of you.

“who’s that?” you asked.

ni-ki looked over to where you were looking, and shrugged. “dunno, i think she’s in a class or 2 of mine. haven’t really interacted with her. don’t know her name.”

you smiled, “well she’s really pretty.”

ni-ki deeply chuckled, “no fraternizing with humans, remember?”

“i mean you can talk to her, just not alone, okay?” you stopped in front of ni-ki’s class building and patted his shoulders. “do good in class. learn something!”

ni-ki groaned and you happily skipped off.

once you were gone, ni-ki walked into the building, and soon the blonde girl was beside him, cutting him off as she stood in front of him.

“i know what you are, blood sucker. and i know what you did.” she smirked and walked off towards class.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

meanwhile when close to 11 came, you made it to the class jay was a teaching assistant for, and just on time. you sat in the back while 96% of the girls in the class sat up front. mainly to ogle jay.

“we’ve missed this class!” one girl shouted.

“i was so sad when classes got canceled.” another shouted.

one girl argued, “it was for our safety though! i hope that creep is found!”

your heart sank knowing they were talking about ni-ki. jay and sunghoon had warned you and the other boys, people will be talking and saying rude things, but to not take it personally or say anything aloud.

“let’s get class started, shall we?” the professor of the class cleared his throat and began his lecture. as the girls attention was glued to jay and his jawline, jays attention was glued to you as you focused on the lecture.

jay hates the fact you don’t make flirty eyes with him in class, but you told him and the other guys, your studies come first. they respected you for that.

class ended 50 minutes later, and your next class wasn’t until 2, so you agreed to meet your roommate for lunch.

without bothering to say goodbye to jay, since he was busy with the girl students in class, you made your way towards the student center where most of the food options were.

while walking down the path you saw a familiar blonde from earlier. and once again, she was staring at you.

you walked up to her as other students passed, going along their day. “is there a reason you keep staring at me?”

the girl smiled and stuck out her hand. “im eunchae.”

“im—,”

“i know who you are.” she cut you off and stood up. “i also know what you are to those blood suckers.”

as eunchae went to walk away you grabbed her hand, “wait—,”

“don’t worry im not going to tell anyone.” she shook her head. “just know those boys don’t care about you. they give you precious attention now, but what happens in a few years? you get older and what, they stay the same age? they won’t have you as their precious feeding tube much longer. they’ll throw you to the curb sooner or later.”

you were too stunned to speak, and eunchae walked off. when you came to your senses, you walked to meet your roommate for food.

“hey, are you okay?” she asked and you mindlessly nodded, picking at your food. you were currently rethinking, and over analyzing your conversation with eunchae.

what would happen once they were done? you did get older and they wouldn’t, right? you weren’t their first human to primarily feed on and you won’t be the last. how many others have jay and sunghoon roped into this? how many others did they call love and baby doll and treated so well? would they erase your memory once they were done? would they just pack up and leave without telling you? would they kill you?

your mind raced and you felt so sick. “i think im gonna skip my 2 pm class. im not feeling well.” you stated while packing up. you would take the remainder of your food with you.

your roommate looked at you with concern. “okay, get some rest!”

you nodded with all your things and walked to the one place you might get answers. the guys house. and with them all being on campus until at least 4, you would have time to snoop for answers.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

ni-ki was walking on campus when he spotted the blonde girl from earlier. he’s had two classes with her and each time she’s ignored him.

she was lying on a blanket on the grass reading as ni-ki walked up.

“we need to talk.”

“aren’t you not supposed to be around humans alone?”

ni-ki looked around. technically they weren’t alone, there were other students scattered about. “is this a test?”

the girl closed her book and sat up from her lying position. “a test?”

“did jay or sunghoon put you up to this?” ni-ki asked annoyed. did they really not trust him that much?

the girl shook her head but patted the spot next to her. “sit down riki.”

ni-ki’s jaw nearly hit the ground. riki was his birth name, but he always went by ni-ki. only certain people know his name is riki or even call him that.

ni-ki sat down on the blanket.

“im eunchae.” she held out her hand and ni-ki shook it. “and no, the guys didn’t put me up to anything.”

“then how—?” ni-ki couldn’t even finish his sentence as he was so confused. eunchae laughed.

“let’s just say, im not a vampire, but a supernatural creature as well.”

ni-ki’s eyes went wide as he looked at eunchae. “what kind of supernatural creature?”

“ever heard of a seraphim?” eunchae asked. “we’re also known as fallen angels.”

“oh.” ni-ki said. “what is it that you do?”

eunchae smiled, “maybe i can tell you that later tonight.”

ni-ki frowned, “i have to be home by 5.”

“yikes they put you on that much of a strict curfew because you lost control and fed on a human?” eunchae faked gasped. “just ignore it.”

“i—i can’t.”

“what are you gonna do, suck my blood? i promise my blood will not taste good.” eunchae said and stood up grabbing her book. ni-ki followed.

eunchae added, “i’ll also make sure you don’t feed on any innocent people.” eunchae promised with her hand up and her big eyes round and her lashes batting.

“you aren’t a good influence.”

“im a fallen angel riki. and i never said i would be a good influence.”

“how can i trust you’re telling the truth?”

“you can’t, that’s the thrilling the part.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you arrived to the guys house and immediately went up to the library. the library had old books so it had to have something from jay and sunghoons past.

you searched and searched the shelves, not finding anything much helpful. you found a few books on the lore of vampires and made note to look at those later.

your attention turned to the desk. as you opened the drawers, you found a photo book. bingo.

but as you opened it, it was empty.

“love, why aren’t you in class?” at the sound of jay’s unexpected voice, you literally screamed. your heart rate was definitely up, but you took a few deep breaths.

“i wasn’t feeling well. so i came here, to my favorite place.” you smiled hoping jay bought your lie. since your heart rate was already up from being startled, he wouldn’t notice the difference because of your lie.

jays eyes soften. “aw love come here.” he waved for you to leave the comfort of the library into his awaiting arms.

you gave him a hug in the threshold. he smelt so good. you sighed into his chest. “wait, how did you know i wasn’t in class?”

“i went to look for you. i know we aren’t to interfere with your studies so i was gonna ask if i could feed before or after class.”

“how was you going to feed before my class?”

“take you to my office.” jay smirked and your face felt hot.

“well im here now.”

jay frowned, “but you aren’t feeling well.”

you shook your head, “im a bit better. honestly i just didn’t want to go to class and hear more people talk about what happened.”

jay held you closer, rubbing your back. he kissed the side of your head. “thanks for caring about us love, but people will talk, okay? we’ll get through it.”

you nodded and jay led you to his room. “are you sure you’re up for it, love?”

you nodded, and took your shirt off throwing it somewhere in his room then began unbuttoning your jeans.

“hey!” jay scolded. “undressing you is one of my favorite things.” he pouted and you laughed taking your hands off your button.

jay took his time undressing you, kissing every inch of your body, giving light nibbles up your thighs, stomach and chest.

his lips made its way to your lips for a deep and slow kiss. jay was always so gentle and romantic and sometimes you wish he wasn’t. you always wondered deep inside if he had a hardcore dominant side of him.

when you two made eye contact, you asked, “jay, why are you always so gentle with me?”

jay smiled, “honestly, because if anyone of us goes full force you genuinely may not be able to walk for a while.”

“what if that’s something i want?” you teased.

jay shook his head with a smile, “maybe on a day where you don’t have class for the next few days, okay?”

your hands ran through jays hair, “what’s the most public place you’ve had sex? i mean you’ve been a vampire for so long, there has to be somewhere interesting you’ve done it.”

“penthouse balcony.” jay replied. before you could reply further, jays fingers snuck down to your core, and entered your pussy, earning a low moan from your mouth.

he kissed and sucked your neck while his 2 fingers entered in and out of you, all while his thumb laid pressure and lazy circles on your clit. he had to get you pretty ready for him as although jay didn’t have inches, but he sure enough had thickness to his cock.

“so wet for me.” jay whispered in your ear and pulled is fingers out when he thought you were wet enough for him. giving you one last kiss, he aligned himself with your entrance and slowly entered you. you immediately felt the stretch, as he placed your legs on either side of his waist so you could feel him deeper. “i don’t think you’re ready for the damage i could do to you in bed, love.”

that earned another moan from you, “yes—yes i could.” you stuttered as jay was rocking his hips to yours, sounds of skin slapping the only noise to be heard.

jay sat up so he could hold your legs straight up, them vertical against his chest. this position offered a new feeling and ways for him to satisfy you, and he picked up the pace, your ass becoming red with the speed of his thighs hitting them.

spews of profanities left your lips at this new sensation and feeling. you loved it. your hands gripped the sheets to his bed, as jay held you in place. you were close and jay could feel it.

he pulled out, you hissed at the loss of contact, almost in tears when jay helped you get on your hands and knees for him to fuck you from behind. no warning, he bottomed out, a louder than usual moan leaving your mouth, the front of his body connecting with your back, and his lips finding your neck, his favorite spot.

his vampire teeth sunk into your skin, and you let out a moan of pain followed by a groan of pleasure, groaning jays name over and over, encouraging him to pick up his pace and chase both of your orgasms. soon, you felt jay release his come into you, and he slowed down, his vampire teeth retracting as he licked where he fed.

you were so thankful that although he could come, you couldn’t get pregnant since his sperm was dead.

you collapsed on your front on the bed, trying to catch your breath. although you know jay didn’t go full out, he did go harder than usual. jay rubbed your back, his breath already returning to normal, as he put on pants and covered you up with his sheets and comforter.

he looked down so he could face you, “are you okay?”

you nodded. once your brain fog from the orgasm started to go away, you remembered the whole reason why you were even there.

you turned around to face jay who was sitting on his bed next to you scrolling on his phone.

“jay?”

“mhm?” he hummed and looked to give you his attention.

“what happens when yall are done with me?”

jay pouted in confusion. “love, what do you mean?”

you sighed and sat up, covering yourself with the sheets. “i mean when you all are done using me as a human blood bank. do yall kick me to the curb? pack up and leave without telling me? kill me?”

“love, where is this coming from?”

“don’t—don’t call me love right now.”

“where is this coming from? why all of a sudden are you thinking about this?”

“jay, i gotta think about my future, okay? unlike you all, i get older, okay. i will eventually meet the love of my life, get married, have kids,”

“absolutely not.” jay stated, his tone darker than usual. when you looked him in the eyes you realized his eyes were red.

“jay—,”

“you belong to us and only us.”

“jay that’s not fair,” you said, “i can’t be at your beck and call.”

“yes you can and you will.”

“what happens when yall are done with me?”

“we won’t be.”

“then are you gonna turn me to keep me young?” you argued.

jays eyes went back to normal and his face softened, “no. i don’t turn people unless their life depends on it.”

you got up quickly from the bed, “jay, this makes no sense! how are you gonna say i belong to yall only, but not tell me what my future will look like?”

jay tried to reach for you but you pulled away. was you being unreasonable? you didn’t know and you didn’t care. you just know eunchae had you thinking more about this situation you got yourself in.

you looked around for your clothes, and immediately started to get dressed. “i need to go. i need to go home and think.”

“love,”

“NO!” you yelled to stop jay. “just no.”

you finished dressing as jay watched. your belongings were in the library so you walked down the hall to grab your bag and uneaten food. jay was following you around the house.

“im leaving. i don’t think this is a good idea anymore.” you said as you walked down the steps and that perked jays ears as well as sunghoon who happened to be listening.

“baby doll,” sunghoon began and it slightly startled you as you turned to look at both men. they both looked hurt, but angry at the same time.

“love, you belong to us, end of story,”

“not end of story jay, fuck you!”

“baby doll, behave.”

“and fuck you too sunghoon!”

you stormed out of the house, hearing jay tell sunghoon “let her go, for now.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you held back tears as you walked around campus. you weren’t ready to go back to your dorm just in case one of the guys were waiting for you.

but it wouldn’t matter, they could probably track you by your scent. they’ve always said you were different.

“did they hurt you?” for the what, third time today? a voice startled you.

you looked behind you and saw eunchae. “no.” you shook your head then shrugged, “i don’t know.”

“come with me, i have some girls you might want to meet.”

you wiped your tears, “huh?”

“trust me.” eunchae smiled. “plus i think the person i arranged to meet at 5 won’t show up.”

ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Volo of the Ginkgo Guild

(Part 3 of The Outsider, Chapter 4/4, 3442 words)

Volo sat, somewhat awkwardly, as the professor took his place across the table. “You look exhausted,” he observed. “I’m fine,” Volo automatically replied. The professor narrowed his eyes, then stood again. A few moments of silence later, he returned with two cups of black tea. “Here,” he said, sliding a cup across the table. “I’m fine,” Volo repeated, keeping his hands in his lap. “Very well,” said the professor, apparently unbothered by the rejection. “Now, would you care to explain your reappearance in Galaxy Hall?” Volo sighed. This was it—he would have to grovel, beg, demean himself to appease these cruel and foolish people, all so he could do what he’d always done in their service. “First,” Volo said carefully, “I would like to apologize for my conduct during my interview. I was… nervous.” The professor nodded. “Entirely understandable, my boy.” Volo narrowed his eyes. To use the outsider’s more modern vernacular: Is this guy for real?

Read the full chapter on ao3 or under the cut:

Volo could not sleep, and therefore was not awakened by Giratina’s foreboding presence.

He sighed at the dark shadows creeping beneath the outsider’s front door and held up his pointer finger—One moment, please. Volo kissed the outsider on the forehead and gently removed himself from the bed, pleased that she was still very much asleep. Very quietly he stepped towards the door, before pausing to release Togekiss from her pokéball.

“Look after her,” he whispered, glancing in the outsider’s direction. He did not want her to awaken alone and assume that he had abandoned her.

Togekiss chirped quietly and spun around in the air, apparently delighted to have some time to cuddle. Volo smiled and kissed her feathery forehead as well, then made his way to the front door.

Outside the dorm, Giratina was nowhere to be seen. Naturally, it did not want to appear in the center of a sleeping—but still occupied—public square. Volo walked over to the pastures and farm, finding a place at the edge of town obscured by foliage. This, he decided, would have to suffice.

Volo removed the ghost plate from the pocket of his new trousers and awaited the distortion god’s arrival. The muted call of “bishaan” signaled Giratina’s ominous presence.

It was only a silhouette in this limited form, which was how Volo had always encountered Arceus’s rejected child. Someday he hoped to see Giratina in its full glory, but in this moment he appreciated the convenience of its hiding in the shadows.

Two blood-red eyes pierced through the darkness, staring Volo down. He crossed his arms over his chest.

“We have not spoken in some time,” Volo told Giratina, slightly annoyed by the god’s cold shoulder. “I was beginning to worry that you had abandoned me.”

I have done no such thing.

Giratina did not speak with words, but was somehow capable of delivering its messages to Volo through psychic means. This strange supernatural communication had been the thing to draw the former merchant to Giratina in the first place, two years into his Hisuian residency. After being rejected by Cogita for his conflicting interpretations of Celestican values, and continuously ignored by Arceus, Volo had been forced to seek other allies in his quest to create a better world. Giratina had shared many of his values, and had offered powerful relics and knowledge that Volo could not have otherwise acquired. It had made perfect sense to ally with Giratina then, and Volo knew that maintaining that alliance was especially important now.

It was you, human, who abandoned Me.

Volo noticed the way Giratina emphasized its own title, in the way only a god could. Would Volo do that himself?

“I have done no such thing,” Volo echoed, putting a hand on his hip. “Our plans have simply evolved. It did not seem practical to consult you directly, given my consistent company.”

Arceus’s chosen.

“She has a name.”

What, now, are your plans?

“At first I thought we could meet the Almighty Arceus without taking the plates from her,” Volo explained, “because it promised its champion an audience once she sought all pokémon. She offered to let me accompany her in exchange for my assistance, even after learning that I had caused the rift that brought her here.”

Is she fully aware of our intentions?

Volo shook his head. “No. And she cannot be.”

Giratina blinked, almost thoughtfully.

“Unfortunately,” Volo continued, “my employment with the merchant’s guild has been terminated. Therefore, we cannot complete the Pokédex as originally intended. And I am slated to be removed from the island of Hisui entirely.”

Surely with your many qualifications, you could find alternate employment in Hisui. Perhaps there is a position that would allow you to accomplish your goal more expediently than before.

Volo scowled at Giratina. It was one thing for the outsider or the Commander or even Togekiss to point out the obvious, but an actual eldritch god?!

“I do not want to work for the Galaxy Team,” Volo repeated for what felt like the millionth time. “My companion and I will retreat to the wilds tomorrow, and once we have sought all pokémon we will summon and confront the Almighty Creator.” Volo paused, carefully selecting his next words. “But in order to survive in the wilds without assistance from the people of Hisui, we will need your help.”

My help?

“You are a god,” Volo reminded Giratina. “Protect us when necessary, and I promise that we will make it worth your while.”

We? I do not see Arceus’s chosen here. You speak so confidently on her behalf, yet you are unwilling to tell her the truth.

Volo narrowed his eyes. “What, exactly, are you implying?”

In some part of his brain, he knew that he ought to refer to the actual god with far more deference. But it had been a long day, and Volo was tired of showing deference where it was undue. He had a great deal of respect for Giratina’s power, of course, but ultimately knew that the distortion god was a means to his own ends. They were not a partnership, as Volo and the outsider were. He was an employee, and Giratina was his divine supervisor.

This was a sour revelation, indeed. Volo tried to focus on the matter at hand.

“I do not want her to hate me,” Volo heard himself say. Pathetically.

Her cooperation is not required beyond allowing you entrance to Arceus’ domain, whether by surrendering the plates or seeking all pokémon by your side. But once you have succeeded and ascended to godhood, you will possess the power to influence her thoughts and actions as you please.

“No.” Volo’s chest tightened at the notion. Of course he had considered this, in moments both shameful and relieving, but—just, no.

You do not seem to know what you are doing.

Volo glared at the Distortion God.

If you wish to return to our original agreement, then you will return to Mount Coronet immediately and use the eighteen plates. I will protect you during your travels, just as I have in the past.

“But what about—”

I will protect her as well. But I expect you to use force to acquire the plates, if necessary.

“It’ll definitely be necessary,” Volo muttered, “if you’re forcing me to do this as soon as possible.”

Are you not satisfied by My conditions? I am trying to make this simple.

Volo pulled at his own hair, pacing back and forth “It’s not—I just think that if you force me to betray her now, she is certainly going to resist, but if I just had more time...”

He had only considered the notion once before, atop Mount Coronet in an uncharacteristically impulsive moment. Inspired by the outsider’s bravery in admitting her own truths, Volo had plainly asked her to help him dethrone God. There had been no nuance, no explanation, and everything after that initial interaction had essentially just been damage control.

Withdrawing from the full truth had been the correct choice at the time. It would have been too much at once, to explain his role in the outsider’s presence in Hisui and his intention to recreate it entirely. But after what he had witnessed today, the outsider’s spite towards the people of Jubilife Village and surprising devotion to Volo himself, he couldn’t help but wonder…

“Suppose I had more time,” Volo told Giratina. “And in that time, I was able to convince her to cooperate with our plans.”

Was that not always your intention, when you decided to sabotage your own plans on Mount Coronet?

Volo looked pointedly at the ground. “I…”

I will grant you protection in the wild under My stated conditions, if that is what you desire. But do be aware, human, that there is another option.

Volo met Giratina’s eyes again, bewildered.

“Do you… want me to convince her?”

You are referring to the blessed champion of the Almighty Creator, who rejected and damned Me to the world of distortion. Is it so unfathomable that I would take pleasure in her corruption?

Something about the choice of words tugged at Volo. It would not be corruption, for the outsider to ultimately choose his—their—new and better world. It would mean peace and belonging for them both, entitlements they hadn’t been offered in this one.

But if Giratina’s investment in such an outcome afforded Volo time, and therefore an actual chance…

“If I choose the less simple course of action,” Volo said slowly, “am I to understand that you will not intervene?”

There would be no reason to intervene. We are both invested in the same outcome.

And as much as it troubled Volo to admit it, he knew that they were.

“Fine,” he decided, clasping his hands behind his back. “I will join the Survey Corps and seek Arceus through the completion of the Pokédex.”

Giratina eyed him expectantly. Volo sighed.

“And during the time it takes to reach those ends, I will persuade Arceus’s chosen… to choose otherwise.”

Very well. You seem to know what you are doing.

“Not really,” Volo admitted, inappropriately casual in his delivery. “I still need to figure out how to ingratiate myself to the Galaxy Team after that terrible interview.”

That is your job, not mine.

“Right.”

And what a fool Volo had been, to think that he would ever work truly unsupervised.

─────────────────

Volo had half-expected Galaxy Hall to be empty at this time of night, but at least one member of the Survey Corps remained hard at work.

“Professor,” Volo greeted, leaning against the doorframe of the lab. He crossed his arms over his chest, unwilling and unable to summon his friendly mercantile persona.

The professor looked up from the scattered papers on a table, surrounded by evidence of his studies. The middle-aged man smiled sadly when he recognized his company. “Ah, Volo.”

Volo did not enter the room. He didn’t know what he wanted—an invitation, or an apology, or something else entirely. So he stayed in place instead, avoiding the other man’s curious gaze.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” the professor asked, causing Volo to scoff. Pleasure.

The professor sighed, pulling out a chair from his table. “Sit down. Please.”

The invitation sufficed. Volo stepped fully into the lab, scanning over the strange equipment and writings. Notes about pokémon, the ecology of Hisui, battle strategies… all things Volo admittedly studied himself.

Volo sat, somewhat awkwardly, as the professor took his place across the table. “You look exhausted,” he observed.

“I’m fine,” Volo automatically replied.

The professor narrowed his eyes, then stood again. A few moments of silence later, he returned with two cups of black tea.

“Here,” he said, sliding a cup across the table.

“I’m fine,” Volo repeated, keeping his hands in his lap.

“Very well,” said the professor, apparently unbothered by the rejection. “Now, would you care to explain your reappearance in Galaxy Hall?”

Volo sighed. This was it—he would have to grovel, beg, demean himself to appease these cruel and foolish people, all so he could do what he’d always done in their service.

“First,” Volo said carefully, “I would like to apologize for my conduct during my interview. I was… nervous.”

The professor nodded. “Entirely understandable, my boy.”

Volo narrowed his eyes. To use the outsider’s more modern vernacular: Is this guy for real?

“Furthermore,” he continued, “I apologize on behalf of our mutual acquaintance, and humbly request that the Galaxy Team reconsider her expulsion.”

The professor had the gall to look confused. “Expulsion?”

“She said it herself,” Volo reminded him, trying and failing to conceal his own annoyance. “If I leave Hisui, then so will she. The decision regarding my status seems to have been made. Therefore, so has hers.”

The professor studied Volo, allowing some intelligence to show through his easygoing demeanor. “Yet here you are now.”

Volo nodded. “I do not want to deny her purpose or community. And so, per her ultimatum, I hope to stay as well.”

It had been one thing to decide in his head—speaking his decision aloud was another matter entirely. Volo had expected to feel far more humiliated by the admission, but instead he mostly felt relieved. Why that was, he did not currently have the energy or focus to consider. Not when he had a job to do.

The professor sighed, but not from exasperation. “I must also apologize,” he said, “on behalf of Commander Kamado. I do wish he had spoken with more consideration towards our mutual friend, especially after her unfortunate banishment.”

“Unfortunate,” Volo repeated.

“Cruel,” the professor corrected himself. “And undue. Thank you, Volo, for supporting her when we could not.”

Volo blinked.

“You appear surprised,” the professor chuckled, shaking his head slightly. “I do not blame you. I am ashamed to this day of my failure to advocate for her beyond my means. I would like to say that, in time, I would have been able to sway Commander Kamado’s favor… but we have both witnessed how stubborn he can be.”

Volo would not beg.

“I will not make the same mistake twice,” the professor said, glancing upwards. “Regardless of employment status, I will not allow the Commander to banish you from this island.” He stirred his tea with a smile verging on mischievous. “If I may take a page from our friend’s book… I don’t suppose that there are many other professors willing to uproot their lives and work in this dangerous new settlement. If my position were to be emptied, I think the Commander would find it rather challenging to find a proper replacement.”

Volo took a moment to process the professor’s response. “Regardless of employment status?”

“I have no interest in forcing you to work for the Survey Corps,” he said with a knowing expression. “In my experience, it is torturous to commit oneself to a purpose that does not align with one’s desires. And I am not in the business of torture.”

This was a far better result than Volo had expected—he could stay in Hisui and help the outsider complete the Pokédex, without having to join the Galaxy Team at all! He took a sip of tea, allowing the corner of his mouth to curl upwards.

“Thank you, Professor,” he said, and meant it. Clearly this man was ridden with guilt for his failure to protect the outsider, and saw his redemption in Volo. That was fine—they were both using each other as means to their own ends. As it so often went.

“I do believe you would fare well here, though,” the professor continued. Which made no sense, because he’d already gotten what he wanted—Volo’s amnesty ensured that the most skilled member of the Survey Corps would stay. What did he have to gain, from insisting that Volo join as well?

“I followed a strange path to this profession myself, you know. I hail from the region of Galar—have you heard of it?”

Dumbfounded by the unnecessary disclosure, Volo nodded.

The professor smiled. “A charming place for a boy to grow up,” he said. “Much like the mainland here. But eventually I found myself growing restless, and ever so curious about the world beyond my home. Years ago, I decided to study pokémon elsewhere—a newly-discovered land, previously home to a disappeared indigenous people known for their closeness to the divine. Does that not intrigue you?”

They both knew the answer to that question.

“I may find myself occasionally frustrated by individuals within the Galaxy Team,” said the professor, “and there are certainly differences of opinion. But I know that we, within the Survey Corps, all share a common desire.”

“Order?” Volo asked, thinking of Kamado’s previous statement.

The professor shook his head. “Knowledge.”

He was not hiding his intelligence in the slightest, now. He regarded Volo as if he understood him better than Volo understood himself.

Volo… could see why the outsider found such comfort in his presence.

Among other qualities she saw in the Galaxy Team Survey Corps.

“Would—” Volo cleared his throat. “Would you possibly consider—”

“The job is yours if you desire it, my boy.”

Volo did not have to do this. Not for the outsider, not for Giratina, not for the professor or Commander. Not even for his eventual apotheosis, after which nothing would matter at all.

“I wield a level 68 Togekiss,” Volo said bluntly, placing the pokéball on the table. “Would that allow me free rein of the region?”

The professor smiled. “I believe that can be arranged.”

“And I would earn a salary?”

“In both currency and potato mochi, yes.”

“And I could work with—”

“I would not dream of separating the two of you,” the professor reassured Volo. “From what I can see, you make quite the powerful team.”

Volo preened at that. “Yes, we most certainly do.”

The professor seemed to have more sentiments to offer, but Volo found himself overwhelmed by the urge to return to the outsider. “Thank you,” he repeated, standing and shaking the other man’s hand. “Professor Laventon.”

“You are very welcome, Volo. Please do return tomorrow morning, and we will settle details with Captain Cyllene.”

Volo nodded, took a final sip of tea, and left to deliver the good news.

─────────────────

She was awake when he returned.

“Volo,” the outsider said, sitting up in bed where Togekiss had laid herself over her lap. Her expression was unusually difficult to read. “I thought you’d left, but then…” She glanced down towards Togekiss, who chirped contentedly.

Volo sat down beside her. “I’m still here,” he said, taking her hand in his own. “How are you feeling?”

“Like an idiot,” she groaned, putting her head in her other hand. “I fucked up.”

Volo nodded, unsurprised. “What was that you said, about burning bridges?”

“I don’t want to leave the village,” the outsider admitted, avoiding his gaze. If she simply looked at him, she would realize that he was amused rather than concerned. “My work with the Corps, my pokémon… Volo, it would break my heart.” She closed her eyes as a tear rolled down her cheek. “But I’ve already ruined it for myself. And they’re going to make you leave.”

Something tugged at Volo as he heard himself ask, “And would you still come? With me?”

She opened her eyes, then narrowed them. “‘Would?’ I think you mean ‘will.’”

Answer the question, Volo wanted to insist, so I know that I’m doing the right thing.

He shook his head instead. “I mean ‘would.’ I spoke with Professor Laventon this evening, and he has granted me amnesty. You will not need to choose.” Yet.

The outsider’s eyes widened again, but this time her reaction was clear as day. She threw her arms around him, disrupting Togekiss in the process, and clung tight as she held him close.

“How’d you do it?” she asked, her voice slightly muffled but unmistakably pleased.

Volo smiled almost conspiratorially at Togekiss, who regarded them both with mild confusion. “I considered my options.”

“Vague, but okay.” She pulled back, looking into his eyes. “And the Corps…?”

“Your employment is entirely secure. The professor apologizes on the Commander’s behalf.”

She rolled her eyes. “Best I’m gonna get from Kamado, probably. I’m glad he’s not directly a part of the Corps.”

“So am I,” Volo agreed, “seeing as I’m to be a member myself.”

The outsider inhaled sharply. “You—”

“Not just because you wanted me to,” Volo interrupted, and it was technically not untrue. He had several reasons for taking the job—some of which he understood, some of which he did not. None of which he could explain at this moment in time, because he very much still had an agenda of his own.

“We’re going to have so much fun together,” the outsider said, beaming. “Way more fun than you had in the Ginkgo Guild.”

Volo rolled his eyes with a smile of his own. “Yes, well, I would expect so. I am selling out to do something I love, after all.”

The outsider kissed him on the lips. “You won’t regret it. Probably.”

“Good enough for me,” Volo responded, and for now it was. He would explore this cruel world alongside its few worthy inhabitants, taking stock of every reason it could not ultimately be redeemed.

And then he would present his case. And she would understand. And they would create a new and better world from the ashes of this one, predicated on the values and desires they shared.

But for now, this was right.

One must cross a bridge before letting it burn.

[novankenn]

Saints of the Sword (v1-8)

(I am going to very BLUNT with this statement, even though it seems like it... THIS IS NOT an everyone betrays Jaune fic. There is much more going on including Jaune's own low sense of self-worth.)

It was nearing midday when the promised medical visit happened. Meaning that for much of the morning the entirety of the Chevalier, did much of nothing, but lase around and wait. Professor Peach, who also happened to be a board licensed and accredited doctor, plus the head of Beacon's Infirmary, was giving Jaune a quick examination in his room... under the watchful eyes of Guy and Joan.

Standing outside that room was Cardin, Dove and Jeane. All three were dressed in rather casual and modern clothing.

"So?" Jeane asked.

"What do you mean so?" Dove replied. "We can't do much. Jaune wants to be here, and considering how important to our company, he is... we all know we won't leave him behind."

"I agree, but we need to think of his health." Jeane countered, "Have you looked at him recently? He's wasting away, and I really don't give a fuck about what happens, has happened, or will happen here at Beacon. Jaune does not need to be here."

"I understand what you're saying, Jeane." Cardin commented, "But we all know how stubborn that little twat is. Jaune wanted to be here. He's seen something coming, and you know as well as I do..."

"He's going to want to attempt to stop it." Jeane added with an exasperated sigh.

"That's how that little shit is." Dove offered, "But Jeane's right. Being here is doing a number on him. Fuck, Joan looks like hell warmed over. I don't think she slept at all."

"That's why the doctor is here." Cardin responded. "If she can get Jaune to take something to help him sleep, he'll most likely recover some of his old stamina."

"How long is that going to take, though?" Jeane asked.

"I don't know." Cardin replied.

"Well, Jaune's condition aside. I don't like being here." Dove informed the others, "This place gives me the creeps. I took a little walk about earlier, and while everyone seems to recall us..."

"I doubt in favorable or fond terms." Cardin chuckled, getting a lop-sided smirk from Dove.

"No shit. The opinion of team CRDL has us ranked less than grimm-shit, but..."

"But?" Jeane asked.

"I tested the waters. I asked around, making it seem like I was looking for someone."

"You were asking around about Jaune." Cardin spoke. "Why?"

"Just to see."

"To see what?" Jeane asked.

"To see if anyone could recall him. We've told you what was going on when we left just after he did. Well, it seems there are some vague memories, but nothing... more substantial."

"Well, it makes sense. He really wasn't that much of a stand-out, did you try his team or his friends?" Cardin asked.

"No. I figured that would be pushing it, as we still have a bad reputation here even after this long." Dove answered.

"That tell us basically nothing." Jeane commented. "So what's the plan then?"

"Keep alert, and make sure no one moves about alone. If something is brewing here, we need to be ready." Cardin offered.

"I agree, but what about Jaune?" Jeane asked.

"Well we all know Joan ain't going to be more than three steps away from him, but I think we need to have a couple others around him as well, and think it should be Sky and Etienne."

"Makes sense. Sky's as religious as Jaune is, and they do have that bond." Jeane agreed. “And anyone who is in their right mind won’t make a move with Etienne nearby. But do you think we have to be that proactive?”

“To be honest, I don’t know.” Cardin replied. “It’s not like Jaune’s visions are straight forward. We just have to do our best like we always do until things start to fall into place.”

“So stay the course, but be alert and ready?” Jeane asked.

It was at that point, Professor Peach exited the room that was housing Jaune. When she looked up after softly closing the door, she smiled at the trio and moved forward, closing the distance between them.

“I’ve given him a mild sedative, and his partner has the prescription.” Professor Peach informed the trio. “The dosage should help him get a full, undisturbed night’s rest, but if it does not help, contact me. I can increase the dosage if needed.”

“Thank you Professor.” Cardin spoke. 

“If anything else comes up, you have my information.” Peach offered. “I or another member of my staff can be here very quickly. So do not hesitate. Understood?”

The trio of taller individuals nodded to the fairly short, pink haired woman, clade in an oversized lab coat, and wearing wire rim glasses.

“We will.” Jeane confirmed, before the Professor gave them all a warm smile before heading off.

/== Table of Contents ==/

[sallowapologist]

Jealous Boy

(yes, inspired by the unreleased Lana song)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x trans!Reader (ftm) 

Word Count: 3.6k+

Genre: Angst, Fluff, & Smut (the holy trinity).  

TW’s: Minor TW for brief mentions of a guy being a bit of a creep towards you, nothing major though. 

Notes: I took it personally that there was a lack of transmasc mc fics out there, so that’s how this came about. I impulsively wrote this at you don’t even want to KNOW what hour- but I am finally done and ready to post it. Idk why I always decide to write and publish fics in one sitting. 

Goes without saying, but this is set in their seventh year when they’re both of age. The beginning of the fic also only really makes sense from the perspective of you being in Slytherin, but to be honest it doesn’t make any difference beyond the introduction- so other houses are encouraged to read too. 

The reader’s POV is that of the MC of the game. 

I'll also be crossposting this to my ao3 account (swarmofbears) if you guys wanted to show it some love over there- i’ll definitely be writing more seb fics soon. Enjoy!

Brief Description: A celebratory party for the Slytherin quidditch team goes sour for you when Sebastian lets his emotions get the better of him. 

He seeks you out, wanting to give an apology- but he ends up giving you so much more... 

ao3 version here:

•─────⋅☾⋅─────•

Slytherin had just won the first match of the year. 

After much pestering from students and faculty, Professor Black had finally allowed quidditch to return to the school curriculum. The season had opened with a tense match between Slytherin and Gryffindor, the ultimate rivals. 

Sebastian had been stressing about it, often being his grumbly self whenever practice hadn’t gone to plan. It’d come as a surprise when he told you he was trying out for the team at the start of the year, but in line with all that happened in your fifth year, you figured he could use a distraction. 

Plus, you certainly weren’t complaining about seeing him in his quidditch uniform in the slightest. 

Subsequent to the victory, you and your fellow housemates paraded back to the Slytherin dorm to celebrate. Hasty banners were strewn across the hall and soft music was thumping in the background of the excited chatter.  

You hadn’t really had a chance to congratulate Sebastian yet, him being swept up by the crowd sort of made it impossible to catch a moment with him. No matter, you assumed you’d find him at some point in the evening. 

Eyes wandering the common room, you searched for either Ominis or Sebastian so you could make your way over to one of them. However, you suddenly feel a hand on your shoulder. Spinning around on your heels, you expect to find one of your friends in front of you, but you’re met with an unfamiliar boy clad in the same green robes as Sebastian. He must be on the quidditch team too. 

“Miles Grimaldi,” the boy says with a lopsided smirk as he wets his lips with his tongue, hand staying put on your shoulder. 

You attempt to shrug off the hand with a wary smile, tentatively replying with your full name to fill the uncomfortable silence. 

Obviously not getting the hint, the boy- or “Miles” as you now knew- leans forward until his lips are almost touching the shell of your ear. You flinch back, but he only leans closer as he whispers, “I saw you in the stands at the match...how’d you like to have some alone time with one of your star players?”. 

You flush red at this, not because you’re flattered by any means, but the close proximity and suggestive tone was all too much. An unsure noise slips out your mouth, your voice cracking as you franticly glance left and right, looking for someone to help you out. 

That’s when you meet eyes with Sebastian from across the common room. Your eyes widen, attempting to signal for help. He must be too far away to pick up on your desperation, because all you’re met with is a look of...well you honestly have no idea how else to describe it but as pure...venom? That can’t be right. Surely he could see how fucking uncomfortable you were right now. 

Sebastian shoots a glare in your direction, before downing the drink in his hand and stalking off into the crowd.  

God he was a fucking idiot. 

Realizing you’d have to deal with this sleezeball yourself, you flick your head back towards Miles. 

“I’m sorry I-” You begin, before a familiar voice cuts you off. 

“I think he’s aright, thank you.” 

Thank Merlin. It was Ominis. 

Miles turns around, seemingly ready to start a fight with whoever just interrupted him. However, the moment he realises who’s stood behind him, he nods his head- muttering out what could be an apology before disappearing into the crowd. 

“Ominis- Thank Merlin you arrived, that guy was-” 

“A total sleeze? Perks of being blind I guess, nobody seems to want to pick a fight with you.” 

You chuckle at his comment, Ominis always had a way of making you laugh- whether it was intentional or not. 

“Yeah, well, I‘m glad someone came to my rescue. Sebastian didn’t seem so keen,” you wryly comment. 

Ominis frowns at this, sensing your dejected tone. 

“How strange...Well, would you like to sit down together? I’m finding this crowd a bit of a challenge to navigate.” 

There it was again, that dry sense of humor that always drew a chuckle out of you. You nod your head yes, before remembering that he can’t see you. 

“Of course, here- I'll lead you.” 

Ominis nods his head in thanks, taking your hand as you lead him to the luckily unoccupied couch, sitting on opposite ends. 

As you open your mouth to ask Ominis what he’d gotten up to during the match (seeing as he couldn’t exactly watch it), your voice dies in your throat as something catches your eye. 

A couple meters from you, you see Sebastian. He’s leaning against one of the stone walls of the room, arm resting above the head of some Slytherin girl. You don’t know her name, and you’re pretty certain neither did Sebastian- but apparently it didn’t matter. He’s leaning towards her, a smirk etched on his face as she giggles and shyly tucks a lock of blonde hair behind her ear.  

Your heart drops. A thick feeling builds in your throat as you feel a wetness building in your waterline- you barely register Ominis calling your name as he notices your uncharacteristic silence. You attempt to steady your breathing, but you just can’t draw your eyes away. 

As if he can sense your eyes burning into the side of his face, Sebastian looks directly at you with a look of...triumph. It’s that same look he gets whenever he beats you at a duel during one of the countless sparring matches the two of you have held in the undercroft between classes, only now, it felt more personal. More evil. 

Suddenly, it seems as if he notices your watery eyes, and it must click for him- because without another word to the girl between his arms, he pushes himself off the wall and begins rapidly making his way across the room towards you. You barely acknowledge how his face has fallen into an expression of desperation, getting up and practically sprinting out of the common room. You think you hear his voice calling your name, but it doesn’t matter anymore. 

You only barely feel bad for leaving Ominis like that, but it was too much. It was all too much. You can feel sobs begging to fall from your quivering lips, and you decide that you want to be anywhere but the dorm room you shared with the boy you had fallen so deeply for. 

An idea springs to mind. The room of requirement. 

Objective in mind, you quickly make your way through the winding halls of the school, desperately trying to hold on for a little longer. You could let it all out once you were safe and alone. Not here.  

- 

Finally finding yourself in front of the room’s entryway, you shove open the door, immediately allowing the emotion that had been building escape you. Harsh sobs wrack your body as you fall to the ground with your back pressed to the door, uncontrollable and overwhelming. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could you have thought he liked you back? Nobody ever liked you back. You weren’t like the others.  

Nobody wanted a freak like you. 

Choking out dry tears, you lift your head shakily from your knees pressed to your forehead, scanning the familiar room. You get up gingerly, deciding to make your way to your bedroom here. You just needed to cry it out in bed. 

Once you make it to your room, you immediately begin just that, letting it all out as you sit leaning against the headboard of your bed. You barely hear the click of the door. 

“Y/N?” a soft voice whispers. 

Shit, you forgot you’d shown Sebastian this room one day when he’d complained about the first years who wouldn’t stop chatting in the library while he tried to study. He must’ve followed you here. 

Refusing to even acknowledge the boy stood a few feet from you, you speak into your knees. 

“What do you want?” you croak out. 

“I-” 

You don’t let him finish his sentence, suddenly overwhelmed with rage as pure hatred courses through your veins. You flick your head up, shooting a gaze filled with malice his way. You don’t notice the way his eyes widen and his eyebrows pique in in shock, Adam's apple bobbing as he nervously swallows his words. 

“Actually- no. I don’t want to hear it Sebastian. Just fucking leave,” you spit out. 

“Y/N- please just let me-” 

“Fuck off Sebastian!” 

He goes dead silent, taking a step back. Utter fear is etched across his face, he’s never seen you this mad before. Not since that night. His bottom jaw quivers as his eyes glass over, staring at you, awaiting your next move. 

You can’t help but feel a tug at your heart. After all, this was the boy you’d been pining over for years. You let out a frustrated groan, resting your head back against the headboard.

 

“Fuck Sebastian...why did you have to go and be an idiot.” 

For once, it seems as if he’s at a loss for words. The easygoing grin that seemed to be permanently etched onto his face missing. 

“I mean you just- I thought we- never mind,” you sigh. 

Your eyes are shut, so you don’t notice he’s made his way towards you until you feel a weight on the mattress at the opposite side of the bed. 

“...I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

You open your eyes, finding yourself met with a slumped Sebatian. Insecurity is written all over his face, and he’s fiddling with his hands, avoiding all eye contact with you. You stay silent, hoping he gets the hint that you’re waiting for an explanation. 

He inhales deeply, “I don’t know why I did it.” 

“Honestly Sebastian, it’s fine- it's not even like we’re-”  “No, it’s not fine.” 

You’re silent, uncertain of this new territory. You hadn’t seen Sebastian this vulnerable since that night in the tombs, where you’d held him to your chest for what felt like hours as he sobbed into your chest. 

“I just...I felt this- this feeling when I saw that guy hitting on you.” 

“Wh- Miles? Seb, I didn’t want him to-” 

“Which is totally wrong of me- you're your own person. I shouldn’t feel this way just because some guy was making you blush-” he mumbles out. 

“Seb-” 

“Which I think upset me so much because I wish I knew how t-” 

“Sebastian!” you suddenly shout, grabbing his forearm. His head flicks to you, once again overcome with shock at your sudden shift of tone. 

“Listen to me.” you order, making intense eye contact with him. You’d find the way his gaze falls into those familiar puppy eyes endearing if you weren’t currently battling the stubborn boy for a chance to speak your mind. He gulps, a slight red tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

“That guy- Miles- He came onto me. I had to get Ominis to get the guy off my back, I was trying to get you to help me but you-” 

“Oh my god...” he whispers to seemingly nobody, cutting you off. 

“...What?” 

“You were asking for help,” he states bluntly. 

“Yes?” you scoff, “Did you not see the way I looked at you?” 

“I thought-” 

“You thought wrong.” 

It’s suddenly eerily silent, neither of you knowing what to say next. Your brain is running wild with questions, completely lost with where this was going. 

“I get it know,” he speaks into the silence. 

“Get what?” you reply, squinting at him in confusion. 

“I get what that feeling was...” 

You feel anger bubbling to the surface yet again with just how cryptic the boy was being. 

“Sebastian if you don’t fucking tell me what you’re on about, I’ll-” 

“I was jealous,” he states with no emotion behind his voice, but the way his anxious eyes meet your own is enough to let you know it was a cover. 

“...What?” 

He quickly averts his gaze. 

“I thought he was making you blush,” he mumbles. 

“What? I mean no- he wasn’t- but why would it even matter if-” 

“Because I think I’m in love with you.”  

The sudden confession shuts you up, any words you had dying in your throat as your jaw hangs slack. It’s as if Sebastian’s just as surprised as you at the words that escaped him, eyes wide in terror as he gets up to flee the room immediately. 

“Sebastian, wait-” you stutter out, reaching towards him, catching the sleeve of his robe between your fingertips. 

He refuses to look at you, grimacing to himself. 

“Just forget it-” 

You’re not sure what it is. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment. Maybe it’s the overwhelming rush of pure adoration you’d suppressed for the boy for so long. Maybe it’s the way your heart is threatening to burst out of your ribcage. 

You’re not sure what makes you do it, but you do it anyway.  

You tug on Sebastian’s sleeve, with such a force that he falls towards you, on you. Before either of you can register this new position, you leaning back on your forearms as he has his arms braced either side of your frame with a knee wedged between your thighs, you reach out and pull his tie towards you- crashing your lips together. 

It takes a second for him to realize what’s happening, before he begins to kiss you back in earnest. He readjusts himself, now properly leaning over your frame, right hand travelling up your neck to cradle your cheek. It begins innocent enough, years of yearning for one another being silently translated between the two of you, but then it gets filthy. 

Lust sets the two of you alight, and suddenly Sebastian is just everywhere. His right hand is travelling all over your body, his knee pressing up against your crotch, eliciting a soft groan out of you.  

The sound causes Sebastian to pull away for a moment, the caring boy you know briefly reappearing, before a deep hunger sets in his eyes. He leans forward, slipping a warm hand under your shirt. 

“Fuck...I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he mumbles against your lips. 

Your brain is struggling to keep up with all that’s going on, so you forget to reply with words and instinctively grind down on his knee pressed between your thighs instead, a desperate moan escaping you. 

As you prepare to roll your hips once again, Sebastian pulls away, and you let out what you would vehemently argue was not a whine at the loss. 

“Wait- Y/N, are you sure about this? I don’t want to force-” 

“Oh my god- you’re insufferable,” you groan, once again pulling his tie back towards you as you slip your tongue in his mouth, the welcome intrusion coaxing addictive groans out of him. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckles lightly when you pull away momentarily to catch your breath. 

You smile at him, and for a second the two of you just stare at each other with what could only be described as pure love. 

This lovesick haze is what distracts you, causing you to not notice the hand creeping towards the hem of your shirt, a soft tug pulling you out of your trance. 

Sebastian raises an eyebrow at you, silently asking for your permission to take off your shirt.  

He gently pulls it over your head after unbuttoning the first few buttons, and then he leans back and just stares at you. 

You feel vulnerable, not having shown your bare skin to anyone since you’d had the surgery. You anxiously bite your lip as you watch his right hand tentatively move towards your chest. 

His soft fingertips gently trace along the scar beneath your nipple, following it. 

“Beautiful,” he whispers. 

Your heart flutters, suddenly overwhelmed with relief. He seems to notice the way you finally breathe again, meeting your eyes with a familiar lopsided grin, leaning forward once again to capture your lips in a gentle kiss. You know what he’s trying to say, that he’s trying to tell you that he wouldn’t want you any other way. 

After a moment, the heat between the two of you returns, and you’re pressing into him with newfound vigor as he pulls your bottom lip between his teeth. He’s now moving his mouth down your neck, softly nipping at the skin under your jaw- occasionally sucking to leave purple marks in his wake. 

You chuckle at this, suspecting that the “jealousy” from earlier may be driving his actions. 

Before you can throw a snarky remark his way, you feel his knee pressing back against your crotch, the pressure through your pants and underwear providing the perfect amount of friction for you to begin rolling your hips, chasing that euphoric feeling. Broken moans spill from you, urging Sebastian to continue his actions. 

He pulls his knee away yet again, but before you can complain, the feeling of his fingertips pressing under the waistband of your boxers shuts you up. 

“...This okay?” he asks, head tilted to the side. 

“Mhm,” you hum, stomach doing flips at the edge to his voice. 

At the confirmation, he swiftly unbuttons your pants, slipping them off whilst your eyes are stuck to his face. His hand rests on your lower abdomen, teasing you for what’s to come as he leans back in to kiss you slowly and deeply. 

Frustrated by his antics, you impulsively take your right hand and place it on his own. He pulls back and looks at you with an inquisitive gaze, before he realizes what you’re doing. 

You slowly guide his hand, slipping it under your boxers towards where you wanted him. Where you needed him. 

His mouth is dry, in awe at the way you’re looking up at him through your lashes, silently asking him to touch you. 

So he does. 

He feels the slickness between your thighs, softly tracing circles around where he knows you want him. Sliding his middle finger between your folds, he dips his finger inside you, finally granting you the relief you had practically been ready to beg for. 

He’s entranced by your face, obsessed with the way your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

He suddenly dives back towards you, swallowing the whine you make as he begins to move inside you. He slips a second finger in, relishing the way he’s tearing you apart around his fingers. Your warm walls coax him in, and he’s happy to stay. 

He tugs on your bottom lip with his teeth, before hovering his face above yours, uttering praises. 

You can barely process anything other than the feeling of his slender fingers reaching inside you, the deftness of his movements destroying you as he begins to circle your clit. 

“I’m close,” you stutter out, only encouraging Sebastian to increase the speed of his movements. 

“You’re so pretty,” 

“My pretty boy,” 

“All for me,” 

He’s mumbling praises again, the possessiveness tinging his compliments making you react in ways you probably shouldn’t, arching your back to press yourself closer to him as you whimper. You feel his kiss-swollen lips against the shell of your ear. 

“Cum for me, love.” 

It hits you suddenly, a string of curses escaping you before he swallows them up yet again with a passionate kiss.

 

When you come down from your high, you’re panting- overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. Sebastian retracts his fingers from you, a slick sheen coating them. He maintains direct eye contact with you, bringing his fingers to his lips and he sucks them dry. 

A whine escapes your lips at the sight, and he merely grins at you before finally speaking. 

“Maybe next time.” 

You burst into laughter at this. It really isn’t all that funny- but you suspect the ridiculousness of the situation has finally caught up to you. Perhaps you simply just have no idea how to process what just happened. 

The two of you fall into a fit of giggles, Sebastian coming to lay next to you. You both turn onto your sides, facing each other. 

“So do you forgive me?” he inquires with a cheeky grin. 

“Oh shut up-” you groan lightheartedly, grabbing the pillow underneath your head to hit him. 

He bursts into another fit of giggles, and you join him. Once the giddiness dies down, the two of you are left staring into eachother’s eyes, once again filled with pure adoration. 

“I mean it though. I really am sorry.” 

“Seb...It’s okay. We obviously just needed to...” you glance down at your boxers, still slick with your arousal, “...talk.” 

“Yeah. Talk. For sure,” he deadpans, causing you to lightly shove his chest, once again causing the two of you to burst into a fit of laughter. 

“I like you, by the way. If that wasn’t clear,” you shyly admit once it dies down. 

“God I’d sure hope so-” he chuckles, immediately breaking the tension. 

After a comfortable silence, he reaches a hand towards your waist, pulling you in towards him. 

“Hi,” he whispers, uncharacteristically nervous. 

“Hey,” you whisper back, placing a soft kiss on his jaw before tucking your head into his chest. 

The two of you don’t need to say much more, you could discuss the specifics tomorrow. But for now? All either of you wanted was to fall asleep in each other's arms. 

- 

Ominis remained on that couch you left him on, praying to whatever higher power there was out there that those two pining idiots had finally sorted their shit out. 

Little did he know. 

•─────⋅☾⋅─────•

[positivelybeastly]

Silent Scream (bobby, wanna chance to yell at bobby Hank? if you're still doing this? c:)

"You see, your essential problem, Iceman, is that you are so incredibly, definitively, awe inspiringly stupid."

It's not an out of character line from the Director of X-Force, but considering the fact that they're within earshot of the world's best and brightest, within earshot of press and Avengers and celebrities, it is still - unexpected, to be sure. After the mess with the Terra Verdean delegation was sorted out, it appears, judging by the slight whiff of alcohol about him, that Beast has elected to avail himself of the bar.

Not that he needs alcohol to be unpleasant, of course, but it does help.

"And you see, it's always been that way. I would almost have to admire your commitment to the bit, if said bit wasn't one of the most irksome, unpleasant, and tiring performances I've ever seen in my entire life. Your ice form - not even your idea. That was Cyclops' suggestion, decades ago. Your ability to control both temperature and moisture - something that had to be pointed out to you by the Professor.

And, of course, the big one, the one that you had to have spelled out for you by our esteemed Marvel Girl. That must have been embarrassing for you. In fact, they all must have been just so very embarrassing for you. So obvious in hindsight, and yet you were completely blind, content to stumble on in your milquetoast mediocrity like a particularly uninspiring zombie until someone took you by the nose and forced you to think."

The Beast swirls his glass, a kind of animation in his eyes and voice and manner that's rare to see in him ever since he took on the task of protecting Krakoa from all who would harm it. He knocks back the whiskey before he all but discards the crystal glass on the nearest surface, only good, solid craftsmanship stopping it from shattering.

"Yet here you stand. Unashamed. Unashamed of your stupidity. Unashamed of the fact that everything special about you was gifted to you by either your genetics, or by someone else. None of it as a result of hard work, or application of self, or actual intelligence. Were it not for your luck to be a mutant, you would be living the kind of braindead, thoroughly unremarkable life that most of the human sheep are content to live.

I mean, accountancy? Really?"

His laugh is singularly cruel, singularly unpleasant, and Bobby might well be vaguely aware that Sage and Logan are slowly creeping a little closer, just in case the furry mutant takes another turn. But they needn't worry.

He's nearly done.

"Some of us are content to be led to what is great about us, Iceman. Others seize it. Others embrace it. Others . . ."

He brings up his massive blue hands and puts them on Bobby's shoulders, his fingers twitching like he wants to wrap them around his throat, and off in the distance, Scott, Warren and Jean all tense.

"Others wake up on their own, without having to be told. I can't believe I ever let you hold me back. Every moment I ever spent with you was a waste of time, and this is all you'll ever get from me, ever again."

He pushes Bobby away, turns on his heel, and leaves, intent on stalking back to his habitat alone.

One less distraction, now.

[freakshowtwopointoh]

Come Home With Me - All I've Ever Known Part 7

Come home with me

Maybe because she'll make you feel alive

< prev | next >

If you had told me at the start of the semester that Jordan Li would become my closest friend on campus I would have laughed in your face. But it was November now, and I found myself looking for them in every room, letting out a sigh of relief when our eyes would meet. Even though I barely understood myself, Jordan seemed to really see me - the me underneath the layers of deception and anxieties. They would catch my eye across the classroom when one of our professors said something particularly inane, a shared moment of truth amongst the lies. 

If I was truly honest with myself, it reminded me of Sam. I could never hide my true feelings or intentions from him either. We used to have the same kind of moment when our dad would wax on and on about what it means to be a hero or whatever sanctimonious bullshit he was spewing that night at the dinner table. And it was an addictive and terrifying thing to be truly known. Especially when there are still skeletons in my closet, and threats looming on the horizon. 

Being with Jordan made it easier to push those worries away. They started crashing my study time at the library, sidling up to my table with their characteristic smirk, a coffee in hand. 

Today, they slid a cookie across the table at me. I raised an eyebrow at them in confusion but they pointedly ignored me, pulling out their laptop. But I swear I saw a small, satisfied smile flit across their face when I ate it. 

It’s strange, the things you notice about someone when you spend a lot of time together. For example, I had never paid attention to how someone moves before. But Jordan moves with precision, like they’ve mapped out what they’re going to do before they’ve done it. And yet, they move quickly - lightning fast reflexes. Despite being a supe, I still usually felt like I had to choose between speed and accuracy, and Jordan had both in spades. 

There are other things I’ve noticed. Things I wouldn’t dare admit to - it makes me sound like a creep. But I know the kind of cologne they wear (L'eau d'Issey - I may or may not have recognized the smell in store right away), I know the face they make when they’re biting back a quip, and... yeah, I’m falling for Jordan fucking Li. Despite my best efforts, despite the insane nonsense happening around us, despite the fact that I’m still keeping major secrets from them, I get fucking butterflies when they smile at me. 

They don’t need to know about my ... incident during the spring. They’re already helping me with my family shit, already drove me to the fucking cemetery, already help so much with the nightmares that don’t seem to be getting any better. The details are irrelevant, and besides - no one else knows. No one else can know. Even Robert, my dad’s lawyer, keeps certain details from him. The only one who knows the whole truth is Grace, and that’s because she’s the one who found me.

Last night was really bad. I might need to change my sleeping aid because I’m skipping the same number of days but I couldn’t wake up last night. I was trapped, choking, feeling his hand gripping the back of my neck and pressing me deeper into the water.

I don’t remember what happened properly either, which makes it that much harder. It’s like a series of scenes from a television show that have been put back in the wrong order. The doctors said that PTSD is like a memory filing error. My brain was trying to keep me alive, and it didn’t have time to organize the memories properly and put them away in the right place. To me, it feels like I’m still putting together the puzzle of my own life, and I can’t keep my hands from shaking so I keep dropping the pieces. I’m not sure if I’ll ever know the full extent of what happened to me during those few days, or why it happened. 

Jordan coughs, and I blink, only to realize I had been staring off into the distance for who knows how long.

“Earth to Maggie. Everything all right up there?” They asked, and despite the casual smirk on their face, I knew they genuinely cared. But that didn’t mean I could tell them everything. That wouldn’t be fair, and it would start me down a path of remembering that would just cause more problems. So I just smiled and nodded. 

“Just had trouble sleeping last night.” I said, hoping I sounded relaxed about it.

“Worse than usual?” They asked, looking up briefly from their screen. I nodded, and Jordan just gave me a soft smile before going back to their work. I was glad they didn’t push the issue. Then I remembered their tentative offer from a month or so ago.

By the way, if you ever need to, uh, train with someone

Maybe burning off some steam before bed would do me some good. “Hey, if you’re free tonight... would you be willing to spar for a bit?” I asked hesitantly. “If the offer still stands, of course.” They grinned at me impishly. 

“Hell yeah.” And so we ended up in the training room once more, decked out in athletic gear, but this time we were facing down each other instead of sandbags. I settled into my usual stance for sparring but Jordan just smirked and came to adjust my stance. They used their foot to move mine a few inches to the left, and then their hands were on my hips, grabbing them softly and adjusting the angle slightly. My mind went blank.

I didn’t think one touch could render me speechless, but it was all I could do to keep my face from betraying my emotions. My skin burned slightly where their fingers had been, and I swallowed hard. Then Jordan fell into their own fighting stance, their bob tied back, and nodded once.

Especially when fighting, Jordan is fast - and perceptive. Even when I’m trying to disguise my feints, they still seem to know exactly where I’m planning on striking. I sighed in frustration as they continued blocking every strike without breaking a sweat.

“Your lean is a bit too exaggerated when you feint.” They explained, taking a long drink from their water. I tear my eyes away from them before I can really start staring. 

We started exchanging blows again and I focused on keeping my movements natural. I even got a few hits in before I got over confident and ended up backed into a corner. And there was that stomach lurching, heart pounding, mind melting feeling as our eyes met. You would think that it’d be impossible to be intimidated by someone a few inches shorter than you, but I legitimately felt my breath catch in my throat.

“You’re improving, little mouse, but I still win.” They said lowly, with that fucking smirk again, and I swallowed hard. I knew I should have something clever to say but I couldn’t think about anything but their piercing brown eyes which were staring deep into my soul.

“One more round,” I said huskily. It would be three more rounds before we both went back to the townhouse to crash. And, surprisingly, no nightmares.

Luke’s POV

When my dad explained his plans for our future all those years ago, it all made sense. I remember sitting in his office, pleased to be included in the work my dad was doing.

“Luke, I’m telling you this because you’re the eldest - that means you’re the leader. Your mother and I have always known that you and your siblings would be incredible heroes. We made a deal with the people behind the seven to get you, Margaret, and Sam what you’ll need to be the best heroes you can be.” He said to me, holding my gaze to impress the seriousness of his request. “I’m going to need your help to make sure that your siblings stay on the right track, ok? This world is full of temptations - but you three have a responsibility as heroes.” 

A responsibility as heroes. That stuck with me - more than I think he intended. And it became clear throughout the years that my siblings did not feel the same way. They didn’t feel the sense of duty I felt towards society. I have these powers - shouldn’t I be using them for good? 

I knew our dad just had our best interests at heart, and I understood his motivations. So I was okay doing what he asked. Even when it felt... wrong. Like reading my sister’s journal and reporting on her research and inventions. Or helping them put Sam in that facility. I try not to think about that too much - he killed himself two days after he was admitted there, and it still feels like it's my fault. I isolated him from his support system - but he needed help, more help than we could give him. Dad had been right all along - unfortunately. Maggie’s insistence that Sam is alive when she doesn’t know anything is infuriating. She wasn’t there when Sam was committed. She didn’t see the animal look in his eyes when he was being driven away. After seeing that, it was much easier to understand how he could have killed himself. 

A few days before the gala, my dad called me to chat about Maggie and her ... attitude problem. I had noticed it, of course - she had no desire to actually put in the work to become a  hero or flesh out the story that had been created for her - to cover up her mistakes.

“Listen, son, I need a bit more help with your sister. Despite all the work Robert and I put in to get her this deal, she’s still dragging her feet, and we are getting a bit... concerned.” He said seriously. “We were hoping you could talk to her at the gala, and introduce her to some of my associates. She’s a good girl, and she means well, but sometimes I think she forgets what’s truly at stake.” We’d had this kind of conversation before. It was different when she and Sam were together - they brought out the worst in each other. Idealistic, stubborn, and selfish. They have no understanding of what it takes to become a hero or what it took for them to even get their powers in the first place. 

“Of course, dad. She’s smart, she’ll come around.” I said, and I hoped I was right. 

“She better. A lot changed when Sammy died. We can’t afford any more setbacks.” The casual way he spoke about Sam’s death - as if it hadn’t changed everything - made my stomach churn, but as usual, I ignored it. Everyone copes differently, I guess. 

That’s what I was thinking as I got ready for the gala, tightening the ruby-red tie I had picked out to match Cate’s gown. But little did I know, this was more than just a conversation, and Maggie wasn’t the only one in the dark about what was truly going on.

< prev | next >

thanks to @barbieprincesshilton for the edits

[tenebraevesper]

Sonic Cyber Revolution, Entry 24: Artificial Life

''When'd I become my own enemy, I don't understand what you see in me, 'cause I'm just another story (That's not worth the reading). Now you've got me pinned up against the wall, why aren't you afraid that I'll take the fall? There's more that came before me (Am I worth believing?)! I'm not so sure…''

– StopRewind by NateWantsToBattle

xXxXxXx

''Okay, spit it out, what is your deal?!''

Ferra cornered Toshiro, with Metal Sonic keeping an eye on Mephiles. After they had been dismissed by Eggman, they exited into the hallway and Ferra grabbed Toshiro by his shirt and pushed him against the wall. Her fellow Enforcer was stunned by this sudden display of strength and audacity, but then grinned back at her with an air of superiority, amused by just how frustrated she looked.

''What's the matter? Someone else is keeping secrets and you don't like it? Tough,'' Toshiro replied snidely.

''I don't like your attitude,'' Ferra muttered, frowning, and added in a louder tone, ''I know you two are up to something.''

''I'm amazed that you noticed,'' Mephiles taunted her, earning a glare from Metal Sonic. He ignored it, instead exchanging glances with Toshiro. ''I suppose we might tell them something, else their minds might explode from anticipation.''

Toshiro laughed, with Ferra's cheeks turning red out of embarrassment and she stepped back, trying to collect herself. There was something quite unsettling about the smirk Toshiro just gave her. She and Metal Sonic already didn't trust either of their fellow Enforcers, and at this point, Ferra felt legitimately creeped out by these two. Toshiro merely shrugged.

''I suppose that if you dig deep enough, you will eventually learn more. It is quite fun to see you fuming, though,'' Toshiro told Ferra and Metal Sonic. ''You are already familiar with Prof. Hiroshi Sakamoto's achievements, right?''

''Yeah, we are,'' Ferra muttered. ''He was the one behind Project Shadow.''

'From the data I had gathered, it can be concluded that Hiroshi Sakamoto is also in an alliance with Doctor Eggman,' Metal Sonic added, with Ferra nodding.

''That too,'' she added. ''Not that anyone really told us the details about Prof. Sakamoto working for Eggman.''

''It's not like you needed to know,'' Mephiles said. ''However, Project Shadow wasn't the only project the Professor was working on. There were two more projects, resulting in different creations. The more recent one was named Project Shadow: Resurrection, where instead of creating 'The Ultimate Life Form', he decided to create 'The Ultimate Weapon'.''

''The Ultimate Weapon…'' Ferra muttered under her breath, her eyes widening in realization, ''You mean…''

''You're a fast learner,'' Mephiles interrupted her. ''Isn't it a bit peculiar how I look very similar to Shadow, our true origins nonwithstanding? We both have the same creator, and I suppose that one could say that we are brothers, in a way.''

'What about you?' Metal Sonic asked, staring at Toshiro. Clearly, the teenger couldn't understand what the cobalt hedgehog robot said, but the intense gaze he was given was enough.

''Well, you can have an Ultimate Weapon without a Living Battery, I guess,'' Toshiro started, chuckling softly. Both Ferra and Metal Sonic were clearly unamused by that comment. ''In any case, I do have a familial connection to Touka. Our backstories are similar and genetically, we are siblings, with her being the older one.''

''I…'' Ferra needed a moment to process this information. At the same time, it made sense for Toshiro and Mephiles to have some kind of connection to Sakamoto, considering what she knew, as well as them having some kind of familiarity with Touka and Shadow… but siblings?! Admittedly, Ferra didn't know much about Touka's life, but wouldn't Touka mention Toshiro at some point? ''I didn't really expect that.''

''Make no assumptions, Shadow and Touka don't even know that we exist,'' Mephiles told the two. ''We weren't present at the Codex Research Facility either when it was still operational.''

''I suppose you're not going to tell me more beyond that,'' Ferra said in a rather cynical tone.

''Check your messages,'' Toshiro replied, walking away, with Mephiles slinking into his shadow. ''However, for your own safety, don't go to those coordinates until everything is over.''

''What are you talking about?'' Ferra asked, but Toshiro had already left. She tapped on her AR Visor, sharing the screen with Metal Sonic.

'Those coordinates are showing the location of one of the Egg Bases at the far side of Infinity Forest,' Metal Sonic said, his red eyes flashing. 'Do you wish to go there?'

Ferra remained silent for a moment, then shook her head. ''At this point, I think it would be better for both of us to just follow Eggman's orders.''

'Wouldn't you rather know what Mephiles and Toshiro are up to?' Metal Sonic asked. Ferra just sighed tiredly, pressing her hand against her forehead.

''Frankly, I'd love to go snooping around, but…'' She paused, biting her lip. ''Do you remember what happened last time when we listened to these two? We ended up releasing Shadow and that event nearly killed everyone. I don't want to take risks this time.''

'I understand. Then, we shall proceed with destroying Sonic,' Metal Sonic said, with Ferra being able to hear the excitement in his tone. He had been waiting long enough for this.

xXx

''Have you managed to find them?'' Toshiro asked Mephiles, who was standing behind him, his green eyes glowing as he focused, floating above a black hole. Both were standing on a building overlooking Westoru, with Toshiro having used his AR Visor to access the Eggnet.

''I did,'' Mephiles replied, turning to Toshiro, snorting. ''It appears that grey hedgehog is still upset over the roses, yet does not know who had committed this so-called 'crime'.''

''Well, he will be getting his answer soon. The Badniks en route,'' Toshiro replied, the holographic screen before him closing. ''What about Touka and Shadow?''

''They are not too far away from our location,'' Mephiles responded. Despite not having a mouth, his facial expressions were akin to that of a smug smirk.

The main reason why Dr. Eggman had sent these two to act as a distraction was because of Mephiles' versatile abilities and sheer power. The Dark Irregular was capable of molding shadows and creating copies of himself, which were quite useful for spying on other people. His copies, while imperfect and weaker than he was, were still powerful enough to hold their own in a battle. However, that was just his shadow ability. He also had access to pyrokinesis, the ability to create and manipulate fire, and by combining both abilities, he was capable of creating crystallic matter that could harm anyone who touches it. It was quite an unusual ability for someone who was called The Ultimate Weapon, but Mephiles knew how to put his powers to good use. Still, he preferred a more indirect approach, manipulating his victims into causing their own destruction.

''While the shadows take care of the rest of Team Neos, we can finally continue with our own plan,'' Mephiles said, the glow in his eyes vanishing.

xXx

''Hmm, Doppelgänger again…'' Amy scrunched up her nose as she held up the tarot card. She, Minami, Sonic and Lucas were at Heizeru Park, Sonic taking a nap under the tree, while the rest of the group was eating some snacks they bought at a vending machine on the street. Amy decided to check her tarot cards to see whether there were any events in the future, and the first one she pulled was the very card associated with both Sonic and Shadow.

''Maybe we'll run into Metal Sonic again,'' Minami suggested, a chocolate-coated Pocky stick in her mouth.

''I hope not,'' Lucas said, lowering the soda he was holding. ''Ferra and Metal Sonic are also now capable of using Chaos Surge. I don't want to imagine the destruction they could cause with it.''

''I wouldn't mind a bit of a challenge,'' Sonic said, eyes still close and hands behind his quills as he laid on the soft grass. Lucas, Minami and Amy just exchanged knowing glances.

Then, Amy and Sonic's ears twitched as they heard a strange noise, which Sonic opening his eyes and sitting up, now fully alert. Before he could even register what was happening, a blue blur flew right at him, grabbing him by his arm and flew up with him, throwing him across half of the city, with Sonic hitting the ground hard.

''Speak of the Devil…'' Sonic grumbled as he got up, his whole body aching. He looked up, staring at Metal Sonic as he looked down at him. ''It had to be on sight, huh? You couldn't have given me at least a warning?''

Metal Sonic suddenly charged at him, but Sonic leapt to the side, dodging the punch. Metal Sonic fired a blast from his chest, which Sonic easily dodged due to his superior speed, but when he preformed a spin attack on Metal Sonic, his robotic counterpart activated his defensive system. Sonic hit the Black Shield, but bounced away harmlessly, doing no damage to his robotic rival. He got into a tripod crouch, tapping on his AR Visor to call Lucas, but for some reason, the holographic screen just crackled, leaving him unable to call his partner. Dodging another attack from Metal Sonic, he opted to activate the tracker to make sure that his friends could find him.

''Looks like it's going to be only you and me, Metal,'' Sonic said, staring at his rival.

''That's where you're wrong.'' Sonic was startled by another voice, only to see Ferra appear on her hoverboard, hovering above the two. Sonic furrowed a brow, a grin spreading on his muzzle.

''Fancy seeing you too, Ferra,'' he said. ''Did Egghead told you to destroy me?''

''Let's just say our goals had aligned,'' Ferra replied, glancing at Metal Sonic. ''Metal, show him what you're made of!''

At her cue, Metal Sonic charged at Sonic, who tried to dodge the attack, but the punch connected, followed by a kick to the gut, sending Sonic flying into a tree. The cobalt hedgehog shook his head, trying to recover, but he only got the time to lean to the left as Metal Sonic almost gouged his eye out, his clawed hand leaving deep scratches in the tree bark. They locked eyes for a moment, before Sonic kicked Metal in the chest, causing him to stagger back, and followed up with a spin dash. To his surprise, Metal actually managed to catch him, following up with another laser blast from his chest. Sonic fell on the ground, badly injured from a blast at such close range. His whole body was aching, and all he could do was just lift his head up, gritting his teeth as he met Metal Sonic's cold gaze.

He wasn't going to give up so easily.

xXx

''We need to go and find Sonic!'' Amy insisted, her Piko Piko Hammer already out.

''I'm trying to call him, but he isn't answering,'' Lucas replied, a holographic screen in front of him, showing that the call cannot go through.

''Wasn't that Metal Sonic?'' Minami asked. ''If they're fighting, he obviously wouldn't be able to answer.''

''No, I don't think that's the case-'' Lucas gasped when suddenly, something lunged at them from between the trees. Amy leapt towards it, her hammer meeting a lance. To their shock, Egg Pawns wielding Egg Spears emerged, coming right for them. ''Badniks!''

''I think that explains Metal's appearance,'' Minami said in a snarky tone. Amy swung her Piko Piko Hammer, smashing the closest Egg Pawn. ''Amy, I'll lend you a hand with this!''

''Gotcha!'' Amy dodged the swing of a lance from another Egg Pawn, blocking it. She took a step back, before charging at it and smashing it. She then quickly extended her hand towards Minami.

''Chaos Surge!''

Lucas observed the two as they got enveloped by pink energy, with a pink hammer forming in Minami's hands. She took a swing at another Egg Pawn, blocking the lance, with Amy finishing it off. She then turned to Lucas, who looked a little reluctant to just leave them.

''We can handle this!'' she said. Lucas nodded.

''You guys take care of the Badniks! I'll go find Sonic!'' Lucas said, grabbing his hoverboard and speeding off on it. Minami and Amy then faced the Badniks.

''Ready to turn them to scrap?'' Amy asked, grinning as she held up the Piko Piko Hammer.

''How about making it a contest?'' Minami suggested, smirking as she brandished her own hammer.

''You're on!'' Both charged right into the battle.

xXx

''Hmm…'' Rouge placed her hand over her mouth, pondering as she observed the Badniks movement. She was flying high above the street, having spotted them earlier. She felt an itch in her healed wing, furrowing a brow as she kept an eye on what was going on. It seemed as if the Badniks were controlled by shadow-like creatures that emerged from seemingly out of nowhere, directing them towards certain points of Neos City; specifically, Heizeru Park and Eden Botanical Garden. Surprisingly, it appeared that the humans and ARNavs who spotted the robots didn't pay much attention to them, although it helped that the Badniks didn't attack them either, but she was more interested in what those creatures were. They reminded her of ARNavs, but she doubted that they were actual ARNavs. ''I don't think I should get involved in this, but…''

Rouge's attention was caught by Shadow and Touka, the ebony hedgehog skating down an empty street, while Touka followed him on her hoverboard. She wondered if they knew what was going on, making the decision to follow them. However, she stopped mid-flight as she spotted something black spreading below them, like a living shadow. They stopped, both clearly surprised by what was going on and to their and Rouge's shock, the shadow below them suddenly enveloping them. There was a bright flash of light, like a flame, forcing Rouge to shield her eyes, and when she looked back, she realized that they were both knocked out.

She was about to fly down towards them to check on them, but to her surprise, an ARNav resembling those she saw earlier emerged from the shadow, with a teenage boy walking out from a nearby street. Suspicious, she flew closer, hiding behind a building and holding her breath as she saw the ARNav looking up to where she was a moment earlier.

''What are you up to?'' she muttered under her breath. The ARNav reached out for the teenager's hand, with both suddenly being enveloped in purple energy, then leaned over and placed his hand on Shadow. There was a bright flash of light blue light and then they vanished. Rouge frowned. ''I have a bad feeling about this.''

She flew down, landing on the street and started looking for clues to where they may have gone, but there weren't any. She placed her hands on her hips, not liking the situation at all.

''What is going on here?''

xXx

''Ugh…'' Shadow felt a throbbing headache as he slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurry and he could feel the cold floor below him. He shook his head, his vision clearing and the headache subsiding the moment he spotted Touka lying on the floor, still unconscious. He quickly scrambled over to her, shaking her shoulder. ''Hey, hey, Touka, wake up!''

To his relief, Touka stirred, lifting her head. She grimaced, clearly in pain, but she didn't appear to be injured. ''Ugh… My head feels like it's gonna explode… Shad…'' She squinted, rubbing the sleep off her eyes and sitting up. ''Wh-What happened?''

''I don't know,'' Shadow replied, feeling alarmed. ''The last thing I remember was just… darkness. I suppose we got ambushed.''

''Okay, but who ambushed us? And why?'' Touka asked, completely confused. Both looked around, noting the room they were in. It was filled with monitors, strange devices and papers strewn all across it. ''Where are we? How did we get here?''

''I wish I knew,'' Shadow muttered, getting up and helping Touka up. ''This place reminds me of the Codex Research Facility.''

''Yeah, but it doesn't appear that we're at Codex,'' Touka replied, looking around. ''I know that building inside out and I've never been in room before.''

Shadow frowned, already on high alert. ''Stay close to me. We're going to find a way out of here.''

''Okay,'' Touka replied, nodding. ''You know, we could try using Chaos Control to just warp back.''

''You're correct, but I see two issues with that. We don't know how far away we're from home, so even if we used a Chaos Surge-boosted Chaos Control, it might not be enough,'' Shadow pointed out, tilting his head and crossing his arms. ''Furthermore, knowing you, you'd probably want to investigate this place.''

''Yeah, you're right,'' Touka said in a slightly snarky tone while smiling. ''Let's just not get separated.''

Shadow didn't respond, with the two instead walking out of the room and into a hallway. They took a careful look around before walking down it. It didn't take long for them to hear steps, causing them to stop. However, these steps sounded strange, being heavy and sort of… mechanical. Touka and Shadow leaned against the wall, both peeking into the next hallway. To their surprise, they saw several Egg Pawns patrolling through it.

''Those are Badniks, aren't they?'' Touka whispered. Shadow nodded, with Touka crouching next to him. ''So, should we go into stealth mode or just brute force our way through?'' Shadow didn't answer, instead skating down the hallway and spin dashing into the Egg Pawns, destroying them. Touka rose an eyebrow, smirking. ''Okay, brute force it is.''

''I suppose it needs no saying, but it appears that we're inside one of Eggman's bases,'' Shadow said as Touka approached him, pointing at the logo on the wall.

''Huh, that explains where we are, but not why we're here?'' Touka pointed out, clasping her hands on her back.

''We're about to find out,'' Shadow responded, walking down the hallway, with Touka following him.

If they had indeed been somehow captured by Dr. Eggman, they would definitely do everything in their power to stop him from whatever plan he had. However, both soon realized that there appeared to be something off with this place. While they did find another Badnik, with Shadow quickly destroying it, this base seemed to be eerily empty. Any time they saw a shadow of some kind of figure on the walls, they carefully approached it, but there wasn't anyone there. Was this place somehow messing with their minds?

''I don't think we're going to find anything here,'' Touka said half-heartedly. ''Maybe Dr. Eggman abandoned this base.''

Shadow just hummed in response, a brow furrowing when he lowered his head. He stepped back, staring at his own shadow on the floor, realizing that it was moving independently of him. The shadow then extended, elevating itself and taking on a form resembling that of its host, with only a few differences. The figure's shoes and stripes were grayish-green, and he had a pale-skinned muzzle with no mouth, his green eyes with slit pupils having a piercing and eerie gaze to it. The figure then laughed coldly, his laughter sending chills down Shadow and Touka's spines.

''I had been awaiting this meeting for a long time, Shadow.'' The figure then bowed, head lowering before he looked up, his green eyes then focused on Touka. ''It is pleasant to meet you too, Touka.'' Shadow and Touka were silently staring at the figure, feeling a strange sense of familiarity with him, but Shadow quickly stepped in-between the figure and Touka. Shadow's doppelgänger chuckled softly in amusement. ''I suppose I should introduce myself properly before we proceed. The name is Mephiles the Dark.''

''Mephiles…'' Shadow's eyes narrowed as a memory had been triggered. He was indeed familiar with Mephiles, but only as a character from a video game. Nevertheless, he was still on guard, ready to fire a Chaos Spear at the Dark if he even made a wrong move, as he knew that, even if Mephiles was not the same as his video game counterpart, he had a hunch that he was very cunning and manipulative. They needed to be careful. ''What do you want from us?''

''I had been hoping that we could talk. I'm certain that there are many questions on your mind,'' Mephiles replied.

''You were the one who brought us here,'' Touka stated, with Mephiles giving a curt nod to confirm her suspicions. Touka frowned. ''Why?''

''Follow me,'' Mephiles responded calmly, gesturing at a nearby room and walking into it. Touka and Shadow exchanged glances, both hesitant, but then relented, following Mephiles. They knew that they had to be cautious, but they also wanted some answers to their questions and they could only get them if they went along with the Dark.

Both felt a pit in their stomach as they stepped into the room, this one being much messier than the one they woke up in. As they observed the room, they spotted a glass tank at the far end of the room, with Touka shivering as she saw it. Shadow, on the other hand, looked around for Mephiles, spotting him in the corner of the room. Even though he had no mouth, Shadow had a strange feeling that he was giving him a smug smirk, as if enjoying their puzzlement. He didn't like it.

''Why don't you tell us why you brought us here?'' Shadow told Mephiles in a stern tone. If Mephiles was trying to play mind games with him, he wasn't going to give in. Mephiles picked up on Shadow's tense demeanor, feeling slight amusement.

''I believe you're already familiar with all the details that Project Shadow entails,'' Mephiles said, merging with the shadows in the ground. Shadow clenched his fist, him and Touka looking around for him, a whisper seemingly coming from everywhere. ''The project was supposed to result in the creation of The Ultimate Life Form, but unfortunately, the project had to be shut down because of a little 'accident', never to be spoken of again.'' Touka and Shadow now stood back-to-back as they tried to track Mephiles down. ''Years later, it had been revived, this time under the name of Project Shadow: Resurrection, with the sole goal of creating The Ultimate Weapon.''

Touka and Shadow turned around, spotting a dark shadow on the ground, with Mephiles rising from it, his body taking on a purple hue and becoming more crystalline. The room suddenly became much colder as Mephiles spoke again, his voice only an eerie whisper. ''Both projects were a clear success.''

There was a moment of silence in the room as Touka and Shadow processed this information. Mephiles observed them contently, patiently waiting for a response. It was obvious that both realized the meaning of this reveal; that is, the fact that he and Shadow had been created by the same man, Hiroshi Sakamoto, and Mephiles fully expected them to further pursue that particular truth with more questions, only to be caught off guard by Shadow's response.

''How long have you been observing us?'' Shadow asked, his tone calm and collected. Mephiles was quiet for a moment, wondering why Shadow was asking him that. Slightly irritated by Mephiles' lack of response, Shadow continued, ''You know who I am. You know the details of Project Shadow, despite it being a secret no one was supposed to know about. I don't believe you'd keep this to yourself.''

''Shadow, you mean…'' Touka stared at her little brother, her eyes wide in surprise, then turned to Mephiles. ''Were you the one who told Ferra and Metal Sonic about the Codex Research Facility?''

''Actually, I was the one who sent the message.''

Touka and Shadow looked up, surprised to see a teenager leaning against the entrance, arms crossed on his chest. Touka frowned. ''Who are you?''

''The name is Toshiro Miwa. I'm Mephiles' partner,'' Toshiro introduced himself. ''As for the message, we both had figured that it was time for you two to finally meet up after being separated for so long. It is a bit unfortunate that you missed each other because you got knocked out and locked up in that room and Shadow decided to destroy Neos City because he believed you were dead, and no one was there to tell him the truth until it was almost too late.''

Suddenly, an orange bolt of energy appeared in Shadow's hands and he threw it at Mephiles, who held up his arm, creating a crystallic barrier between himself and the Chaos Spear. The bolt of energy hit the barrier, destroying part of it. Mephiles and Toshiro were alert, staring at Shadow, who was completely furious, gritting his teeth as he glared at the two.

''You knew!'' Shadow growled, baring his fangs. ''You wanted me to destroy everyone!''

Mephiles exhaled, quite amused. ''I thought you'd take much longer to figure it out. I suppose I underestimated you in that regard. It doesn't make you less of a fool.'' Mephiles made a sweeping motion, the crystalline barrier, which both Touka and Shadow recognized to be the same as the crystals they had found at Codex, turning into flames and dissipating. Both were shaking in rage as Mephiles continued to speak, ''After all, you almost killed the person you cared about the most, all because of a bunch of lies.'' His brows furrowed, as he added in a cruel tone, hoping to twist the knife further into Shadow's chest, ''How does it feel to know that you once again almost caused your beloved sister's death?''

''Why you-?!'' Shadow charged at Mephiles, but the Dark quickly disappeared into the shadows, with Shadow quickly turning around, leaping to the side to dodge crystals erupting from the ground, only for them to morph into flames, surrounding the ebony hedgehog.

''Shadow!'' Touka cried out, worried for her little brother. Fortunately, it didn't appear that Mephiles had any intention of actually hurting him, only containing him via the flames.

''You know, we could continue the fight, but I'd prefer to tackle another subject. I'm sure you're still questioning why you don't have any memories beyond your life at the Codex Research Facility,'' Toshiro continued, addressing Touka. Her eyes widened at first, then she glared at him.

''How would you know?'' she hissed.

''Because I'm suffering from a similar memory loss, except it isn't a memory loss. As a matter of fact, it is quite normal for artificial humans like you and me,'' Toshiro explained.

''Wh-What…'' Toshiro smirked as he observed the shocked Touka, while Mephiles kept an eye on Shadow, having extinguished the flames once he was sure that Shadow wasn't going for another attack. Instead of going after Mephiles, Shadow was focused on Touka, clear worry on his expression. Touka gritted her teeth, yelling at Toshiro, but her voice was shaky, ''Wh-What are you talking about?!''

''You heard me. You are not real. Your whole existence is a mere accident,'' Toshiro continued in a smug tone. ''Any memories you might have of a previous life are completely fake.''

''You're lying!'' Touka cried out, her eyes tearing and her fists clenching.

''Am I? Why don't we ask your creator directly for confirmation?'' Toshiro replied. Touka was taken aback.

''Creator?''

The four of them heard steps, with Touka and Shadow being stunned to see an old disheveled man walking into the room, hunched over, leaning against the door frame. Despite his age and unkempt appearance, both recognized him as Hiroshi Sakamoto. What happened to him?

''P-Professor…'' Touka felt chills going down her spine. Sure, she did wonder whether she would ever meet this man again, but at the same time, she wasn't sure whether she wanted to. His appearance alone reminded her of just how much she hated being confined to the Codex Research Facility.

Meanwhile, Shadow glanced at Touka, hoping to get some kind of instruction from her on what to do. They were in an Eggman facility, being confronted by Mephiles and Toshiro, who just revealed that they were behind his own release and that Touka might not even be a real person, and now Sakamoto was here as well. Frankly, Shadow never wanted to see his creator again, and considering by the amount of distress Touka was dealing with, it was clear to him that she too didn't want to be near this man. They needed to leave.

''Touka,'' Shadow called out softly for her, but Touka didn't seem to hear him, as she stood there, staring at Sakamoto and being completely paralyzed. He glanced at Sakamoto, who was shocked to see them. He took a step inside, staring solely at Touka as if nothing else existed in this world, uttering a name no one expected to ever hear.

''Tomoe?''

xXx

''Watch out!''

Silver dodged to the side, using his psychokinesis to lift up an Egg Pawn, with Tails throwing his boomerang at it, shattering the head. Much to his frustration, Eden was once again under attack, with him, Tails and Knuckles defending it. There were Badniks, but what worried him more were the three shadow-like creatures that were just observing everyone.

''Is it just me or are these guys somewhat familiar?'' Makoto asked, with Silver floating next to him. ''We should focus on them.''

''Right!'' Silver nodded, flying towards the shadows, only for them to suddenly create a fire circle around him, forcing Silver to shield himself with a barrier. His golden eyes widened in panic as he stared at the flames getting closer to him, the only thing that kept him safe being his barrier. He felt his heart racing as a memory flashed in his mind, one of smoke and an inferno engulfing the city. He froze, his breathing getting heavier.

''Silver!'' Makoto's voice suddenly woke Silver up from his trance, and he saw a spray of water being directed at the fire, realizing that Makoto had grabbed the hose and tried to extinguish the flames. Unfortunately for him, the water did nothing to the fire, with Makoto staring at it in shock. ''Wh-Why is it not working?''

''It can't be extinguished!'' Silver replied, with the flames closing in. He then let the barrier fall, only to send a wave of cyan energy which, fortunately, did neutralize the fire. He breathed heavily, his eyes itching from the embers. He looked up, glaring at the shadows that were encircling them. This was not his first interaction with this kind of fire.

''Take this!'' Knuckles delivered an array of punches, taking down another Badnik. He glanced at Silver, who clearly decided to fight the non-Badnik opponents. He then turned towards another Badnik, uppercutting it. He was about to smash another Badnik, when he saw another figure kicking it into pieces. ''Rouge?! What are you doing here?''

''My, my, do you always get into battles with robots?'' Rouge asked, smiling at Knuckles. Knuckles just frowned.

''If you want a fight, then wait until I'm done with the Badniks,'' he replied. Rouge rolled her eyes, placing her hands on her hips.

''I'm not here to fight. I just saw two of your friends, Shadow and Touka, getting kidnapped!'' she told him, with Knuckles giving her a baffled look.

''By whom?'' Lily, who overheard their conversation, asked. She was on the call with Lucas, having already informed him about their situation.

''I don't know their names, but the ARNav resembles those guys,'' Rouge quickly explained, pointing at the shadows that were fighting Silver.

''Rouge, I know I'm probably asking a lot, but could you help us?'' Lucas, who overheard the conversation, asked. Lily and Knuckles gave him a baffled look, while Rouge just rose an eyebrow.

''You really want my help?'' she asked, placing her hand on her chest.

''I don't think it would hurt…'' Lucas trailed off, wondering if he made the wrong move. He was aware of Rouge's thieving ways, but he did believe that she actually was a good person. After all, she made the effort to tell them that Touka and Shadow were gone. ''Would it be possible for you to find them?''

''So, you're giving me a mission?'' Rouge said, sounding intrigued. ''I don't know if I have the time for that…''

''Look, either you help us or you stay out of our way!'' Knuckles snapped, startling Rouge. He then turned around to punch another Badnik into oblivion. ''No one here has time for negotiations!''

''Hmph,'' Rouge huffed, feeling a bit insulted that Knuckles was so dismissive of her. ''I never said I wouldn't help.''

''Huh?'' Knuckles was surprised, with Rouge winking at him.

''Of course, as long as I get to go on another treasure hunt with you as the guardian,'' she added, then turned towards Lucas. ''Just give me your number. I have my own ways of finding people.'' While she and Lucas talked, Knuckles just kept staring at her, still baffled by the proposal. Why is she acting like that? Rouge, who was done with the call with Lucas, took out an eye-piece visor out of the bag that was over her shoulder, and placing it on her head. She then smiled at Knuckles. ''Good luck, handsome!''

Knuckles stared at her as she flew away, then noticed that Lily was giving him a questioning look. He then frowned, punching the closest Egg Pawn.

''Just focus on the fight,'' he said to no one in particular.

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[meret118]

Experts say algorithmic wage discrimination and A.I.-influenced pay more broadly are creeping into a growing number of fields, such as health care, logistics, and tech, and could upend work as we know it.

. . .

“Now you have machine learning trained on identifying the desperation index of workers,” Zephyr Teachout, a professor of law at Fordham University, told me. “When you move to the formal employment context, there is every reason to think that employers who can would be interested in tailoring their wages and using behavioral data.”

The clearest parallels can be drawn in other independent contractor roles, which make uparound 15 percent of U.S. workers. Dubal has found that independent contractors working with Instacart and Amazon are similarly surveilled and receive personalized pay based on information including the times of day and length of time they work, along with the types of tasks they’re willing to accept.

On the flip side, some companies also use our data to determine the most we’re willing to pay for products, and it’s possible that we could soon face eerily hyperpersonalized prices—funeral-goers, for example, could be charged more for plane tickets. This summer, the U.S. Federal Trade Commission said it was seeking information from eight companies on so-called surveillance pricing.

[lugonzalez94]

Seen Nombre,

Feb 6

A dear friend reached out to me telling me how brilliant my IG handle was. I had changed it for the hundredth time and I told him I think I finally landed on something that I actually liked and something that reflected me and my artwork, which then spiraled down a rabbit hole of self-reflection and some “ah-ha” moments (TK, sorry to have bombarded you with an essay through IG DM’s, you’re a real one I love you so much my friend). 

My IG art-handle is: seen.nombre (a play on the saying “sin nombre”, which means “nameless” in Spanish). “Sin nombre” was already taken on the platform, but I wanted the name so I had to get playful with it, but I think it has a deeper meaning that I originally meant it to have, much like my art. In the end, it’s working out for me. It feels right. 

Throughout my whole life I have struggled with my name. Don’t get me wrong, I love my name, but its history and my culture and the society I live in that makes things a bit complicated. For example, I didn’t learn that my real name is actually “Maria” and “Lupita” was just a nickname until I was in Kindergarten. It was a whole thing and it was devastating. Every time I started a new school or entered a new class I had to explain my name to my teacher and my friends. Same thing with jobs. And checking in at the airport. Or signing a new lease. For some this wasn’t a big deal, for others it was ridiculous. At my first job my boss told me that trying to remember to call me Lupita instead of Maria was going to be hard for her to remember and she wasn’t going to do it. I had a few professors in college mix my names up in front of everyone in class and I couldn’t help but feel embarrassed for them. Like why the fuck did she just call me Maria when she called me Lupita 2 minutes before? I could go on and on. In every situation I couldn’t help but feel this nervousness creep up inside me. I felt like explaining my name was complicated and it makes me almost start to feel bad about my name and the confusion it can cause people which is total bullshit. But that’s what it’s been like. “Lupita” directly translated is “little Lupe” and is derived from “Maria Guadalupe”, my legal name. This is the name of la Virgen Maria, la Virgen de Guadalupe, otherwise known as Mother Mary, an icon and symbol of strength in Mexican culture. It’s pretty badass. It’s old school. It’s hella common in Mexico.

So with the trauma I carry with explaining and defending my name came debilitating anxiousness when trying to find a name for myself as an artist. Naturally, using Lupita Gonzalez felt like a problem. 1) I feel like it doesn’t reflect who I am as an artist accurately and 2) the amount of Lupita Gonzalez’s there are in the world is insane and I find it hard to make a name for myself because of everything I’ve talked about so far. Let’s unpack this together shall we. This may be my own insecurity talking, but my name is Mexican as fuck. I know it’s messed up to think that my name is “too Mexican” for me and if I think about it long enough I feel ashamed, but I can’t help but feel like it is! Yes I grew up speaking Spanish and in a family with strong Mexican-Catholic values, but we’re also pretty Americanized. When my family moved to the states, when my grandparents raised my mom in Redwood City, and when my parents settled down in the Bay Area, they tried to fit in by learning how to cook Thanksgiving dinners and meatloaf and other foods that are absolutely not in our culture. They began picking up English and teaching us that as our first language. We celebrated the American holidays more than we celebrated the Mexican holidays. I didn’t even know the significance of Día de los Muertos or our Independence Day til later in life. Sure we’d watch telenovelas and Spanish cartoons, listened to reggaeton and banda every now and then, but in the end we’re pretty Americanized. I didn’t even have a quince because my mom said that’s “too Mexican” for us. So I feel like when people see my name they’ll expect something out of me. Or, they’ll label me as “Mexican” and maybe pass me up because it doesn’t fit their “aesthetic” or what’s trending. Then they’ll miss my art entirely. Maybe I’m just overthinking it. 

But this is how I feel as an artist. The art community, while beginning to uplift the voices of women, femme, and POC artists, is still hella white. A majority of the spaces that hold art are white-dominant. The art that sells the most or get the most likes fits this “white aesthetic”. Sure it’s pretty and clean cut and modern and nice to look at, but it’s everywhere and it’s exhausting and it’s becoming so basic. So when thinking of what my IG handle or website or brand will be named or look like, I felt this pressure of fitting the mould and be succumbed to this white, perfect aesthetic, and that doesn’t feel right at all. Even when I tried to give in, something pulled me back and was like nah, this isn’t it. Naturally, I go against the mould and march to the beat of my own drum (can you guess what sign I am?). And through my practice I don’t follow many rules, I value imperfection, I keep it real. I don’t really care about fitting in or following the trends. I just want to paint. 

So let’s make it more confusing. I am Seen Nombre. Seen Nombre is by me, Lupita Gonzalez. I want to be seen in my own way and I don’t want to be labeled as hella Mexican or not Mexican enough or not being trendy or whatever. I just want to put my art out there because I like sharing it and I like making things and it makes people happy. It makes me happy. My art evolves, the world evolves, we all evolve, and I am constantly evolving, so it’s no use being tied to something like a name or a brand or an aesthetic or a trend. I just want to be me. Now that I’m an adult I’m putting in the work to learn more about my culture and the symbols that I feel connected to and who I am as a Mexican-American female artist, which is beginning to become reflected in my art more and more. 

[legolasbadass]

Office Hours, Part 13

Summary: Lorelei Browning has just secured a job as an assistant professor at Exeter College in Oxford. Naturally, she is eager to prove herself and meet every challenge sent her way, but what she does not expect is the tall, handsome stranger who will quickly become much more than a colleague…

Relationship: Richard Armitage x OC (Professor AU)

Word Count: 5.3k

Rating: T (some chapters E)

A/N: For those who have been asking: Oxford University is made up of different colleges, Exeter (where Lorelei and Richard work) being one of them. So they are not quite the same, but that's why sometimes they will say they work at Exeter, and other times at Oxford. Hope this clarifies any confusion!

Thanks to @middleearthpixie for helping me with this one💙

Warning: Some angst (I’m sorry)

Read on AO3

When I knock on Richard’s office door the next morning, I feel as though an immense chasm has wedged itself between us, and in the seconds before his deep voice invites me inside, a sudden urge to walk away takes hold of me.

Soft, grey light illuminates the room from the large window behind Richard’s desk. Outside, rain soaks the city in a cloud of mist, and though the old stone walls let in a chill, warmth fills me when Richard’s gaze meets mine. His hair is all tousled, and exhaustion veils his eyes, but I cannot tell if the pile of exams before him is to blame or if it is the same gnawing feeling that has settled in my heart.

“Lorelei,” he says, sounding surprised, though he offers me a tired smile.

“Hey,” I say, my hand still wrapped around the doorknob. “Are you busy?” He shakes his head, and I immediately shut the door behind me. “Did you get a lot of work done last night?”

“Yeah, not bad actually. You?”

I shrug.

“Are you alright?” he asks suddenly, worry now marking his handsome face.

“I don’t know….” I sigh, then press my lips together as I try to gather my thoughts. “I’m sorry—I know I shouldn’t be here, but … I just wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize? What for?”

“I’ve been so inconsiderate,” I say, shaking my head. “I was so anxious yesterday at the thought that Natasha might know about us that I didn’t even take the time to ask how you were feeling.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Richard says with a frown as he stands and walks around his desk to grab my hand. “Don’t worry, it’s alright.”

Looking up into his deep blue eyes, I gulp. “Is it though?”

Richard’s frown deepens.

“I’m not ready to tell people about us, but are you really okay with that? I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me about this. I want you to feel comfortable with the situation.”

The gentle touch of his hands against my cheeks as he cradles my face chases the morning’s chill from my body, and at last, I allow myself to reach out to him and wrap my arms around his waist.

“I’ve told you since the beginning that I will wait until you’re ready. I meant it.”

“But last night you cancelled our plans and I just worried that maybe it was because—”

“I had a lot of work to do, that’s all,”  he reassures me.

I nod slowly, but my heart still feels heavy. Then, with a low sigh, Richard closes the space between us and leans in to capture my lips in a tender kiss as comforting as a warm cup of tea on a chilly day. When he pulls away, I hold onto him more tightly, as though afraid of what might happen if I let him go, and a soft smile creeps beneath his beard.

“I promise you everything is fine.”

I let out a deep breath I had not realized I had been holding and smile back at him.

“Okay,” I reply, pressing my lips together. “We can cancel our dinner with my parents this weekend if you’re too busy—”

“No, it’s fine,” he replies immediately. “I mean, cancelling would give them a very bad impression of me.”

“Yeah, okay,” I chuckle, but for some reason, his answer leaves me uneasy, so I stand on my tiptoes to press my lips to his, hoping his kiss will offer me the reassurance I need.

***

On Saturday evening, Richard pulls into the driveway of my parent’s house. I sit still for a moment after he parks the car, looking up at my childhood home and the overgrown rose bush that has begun to crawl up the brick walls. No roses are blooming at this time of the year, of course; now, there are only dried branches, all intertwined as though shielding themselves from the chill.

“Are you okay?”

Sighing, I turn to face him. He tried to tame his wild hair, but a stray lock has escaped and now hangs over his forehead. “Just a bit nervous,” I admit. Then, hesitantly, I ask, “Do you think we could … not tell them we’re colleagues?”

All week, I hesitated to ask this question. Since we realized that Natasha might know about our secret, there’s been unspoken tension between us, and I’m afraid of making it worse, but I also desperately want to avoid unnecessary confrontation with my parents.

A heavy silence reigns in the car as Richard stares back at me. “You want me to lie to your parents?”

“Not telling them is not lying—not technically,” I say, then shake my head as I realize how childish I sound. “Look, it’s just that my parents’ won’t approve—they’re a bit traditional like that. And they really won’t like it that you’re older than me, either. So let’s just let them get used to that first. They’ll get to know you and once they see how great you are, then neither the age gap or the fact that we’re colleagues will matter.”

Another silence ensues, and with each second, my heartbeat grows heavier. Then he nods. “Fine.”

And with that, he steps out of the car. The slam of his door when he closes it leads me to think that perhaps it is not fine, but he is already walking up the steps to the front door, his hands buried in the pockets of his dark wool trench coat. Guilt twists my insides, but there is no time for me to utter an apology or a reassurance before he rings the doorbell. Almost instantly, the large wooden door opens, and I find myself standing face-to-face with mum.

“Lorelei, darling! Finally, you’re here!” she says with a wide smile, and I rush to hug her tightly before she invites us inside.

“Sorry, we’re a bit late. There was traffic,” I explain as mum closes the door behind us, but her attention is fixed on Richard. “Uhm, mum, this is Richard. Richard, this is my mum, Heather.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Browning,” Richard says with a kind smile. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“That makes one of us,” mum replies with a disapproving glance in my direction. “It’s lovely to meet you, Richard. Here, let me put away your coats.”

A few moments later, she leads us into the sitting room and offers us wine, which we gladly accept. As mum apologizes to Richard for the nonexistent mess, I look around.

“Where’s dad?”

“He had to go back to the shop because he forgot to buy carrots,” she explains, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be right back with the wine,” she adds, then disappears into the kitchen, from where hints of sage and rosemary reach my nose.  

My parents painted the sitting room a pale cream colour in the summer, but otherwise, it looks just as it always has. The old grey sofas, misshapen from years of movie nights and afternoon naps, the floral curtains over the bay window, and the old telly they refuse to get rid of. A fire burns low in the hearth, filling the sitting room with its gentle crackling. Through the large window at the back of the room, I glance into the backyard, where the trees are bare and leaves of all shades of red and orange cover the grass. Near the willow tree stands an old swing set; every year since I was a teenager, my dad has refused to get rid of it, and the thought brings a smile to my lips.

“I can see where you get your love of literature,” Richard says suddenly, and I turn to see him gesturing to the overflowing bookshelf tucked in the corner of the room next to the stone fireplace.

“Yeah,” I chuckle as I move to stand next to him. “Those are my dad’s books. He loves medieval history, as you can see. I’m sure he’d love to talk about Richard III with you.”

Richard wraps his arm around my shoulder and squeezes my arm reassuringly. Then, he leans in and points to an old picture frame on one of the shelves. A young girl with bushy hair wearing overalls and a bright green t-shirt smiles at the camera while holding a heavy book in her arms.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” I reply with a laugh. “Small, socially awkward Lorelei.”

Richard chuckles. “And is that—”

“Lord of the Rings in my hands, yep.”

“How adorable!”

At that moment, mum returns from the kitchen with three glasses and a bottle of wine. She smiles as she glances at Richard’s arm wrapped around my shoulder, and I suddenly wonder if perhaps I was scared of this evening for no reason.

“So, tell me,” she says as she sits on her favourite powder blue armchair and begins to pour wine into our glasses, “where did you two meet?”

As I open my mouth to reply, the front door opens, and dad’s voice echoes through the house. “I’m back!” I hear him take off his coat and boots, then he steps toward the kitchen, grocery bag in hand, but he halts when he notices us in the living room. “Lorelei, hi!”

“Dad!” I exclaim as I rush to hug him.

Holding me tight, he says, “Finally, you’re not too busy for your old man!”

“Very funny!” I reply, shaking my head. When I pull away, he turns toward Richard, and I don’t miss the way his eyes narrow. “Er, dad, this is Richard. Richard, this is—”

“Mr Browning,” dad interjects with a curt nod.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr Browning,” Richard says without faltering despite dad’s glare as he holds out his hand.

Dad doesn’t say a word as he shakes his hand, and an uncomfortable silence seizes the room. Mum’s eyes flick between Richard and me while dad continues to stare at Richard.

“I was just admiring your book collection, sir,” Richard hesitantly attempts to break the ice, but it is no use, and now the ice becomes lodged in my throat.  

“Oh, right. I’ll just go put this away in the kitchen and I’ll be right back.”

“Lovely,” I mutter when he is gone, and mum reaches out to caress my arm.

“I’ll go talk to him,” she says, then offers Richard an apologetic smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

Sinking back into the couch, I let out a deep sigh and try to block out the hushed whispers spilling from the kitchen. I feel the weight of Richard’s body as he sits down next to me, then one of his large hands squeezes my thigh. When I turn to face him, he hands me my wine glass, which I gratefully accept.

“I’m sorry about my dad.”

“Well, at least your mum doesn’t look like she’d accuse me of witchcraft if given the chance.”

I chuckle at that, then lean against his broad shoulder. “Still, I’m sorry.”

When my parents come back into the sitting room, Richard takes his hand off my thigh.

“So, you were just about to tell me where you two met,” mum says as she takes her place on her armchair.

“Right,” I say, glancing at dad as he leans back on the other sofa. I don’t remember ever thinking dad looked as intimidating as he does now. “We, er, we met when I first moved to Oxford. Richard offered to show me around, and here we are.” I briefly glance at Richard, who is looking back at me. Not technically a lie, right?

“Oh, how lovely!” mum replies, and I smile in relief. “Lorelei knows this of course, but that’s how her dad and I met. I had just moved up here from Brighton after being offered a teaching position at the elementary school just down the road. We bumped into each other at the shop and we instantly hit it off. Isn’t that right James?”

Dad merely leans forward and glares at Richard. “So what do you do for a living, Richard?”

Even mum rolls her eyes at his tactlessness.

“He’s a professor, too,” I hasten to say as I feel Richard tense next to me. “At a different college, of course.”

“Is Richard unable to answer for himself?”

I bite the inside of my cheek, growing increasingly annoyed by dad’s behaviour. Not that I expected any different, of course.

“So what do you teach?”

“Er, literature, as well. Shakespeare, more specifically.”

“Dad, you like Shakespeare, right?”

“Who doesn’t?” he retorts, and I don’t bother to hold back my annoyed sigh. But I will not give up so easily.

“Richard did his master’s at Birmingham just like you. Isn’t that a cool coincidence?”

“Oh really?” Richard says in surprise.

“Class of 82,” dad affirms. “What about you?”

“I graduated in 94, sir.”

Dad nods slowly. “So that makes you twenty years older than my daughter, doesn’t it?”

We walked right into that one, didn’t we?

“Almost twenty, dad—”

“That’s splitting hairs and you know it,” he answers, his disapproval now clear in his narrowed eyes, and I cannot deny how much it hurts. Mum puts down her wine glass and rubs her forehead.

“Dad, come on! We’re both consenting adults!” I retort, my voice growing louder than I intended. “And quite frankly, it’s none of your business—”

Richard interrupts me, his hand coming to rest reassuringly on my thigh. “Mr Browning, I can understand what you might think. But you must know, I care about your daughter so much—more than words will allow me to express. I have never felt the way I feel about Lorelei about anyone before. From the moment we met, I knew there was something special about her, and it quickly became evident to us that the age gap between us doesn’t matter. It changes nothing to how we feel about each other.”

Deeply touched by his words, I reach for his hand and squeeze it tight. He responds by intertwining our fingers, and the gentle brush of his thumb against mine is like a warm blanket on a cold winter day around my heart. Dad remains silent for a long while, pondering over Richard’s words as mum and I exchange an uncertain glance. Then, just as the log on the fire pops, dad sighs.

“Lorelei is my daughter. My only daughter. And I know she’s almost thirty now, but to me, she’s still the little girl who always stayed up way past her bedtime to read a book that was probably heavier than she was at the time.” Mum chuckles at this, and when dad’s eyes meet mine, I notice the softness shining in them, and, despite everything, I offer him a small smile. “I am just trying to protect her. Maybe you mean well, but I can’t know that for sure because I don’t know you. And I do not give my trust to just anyone.”

Richard’s fingers tighten against mine. “I respect that, sir.”

Dad nods and sinks back into his chair, now directing his attention to mum. “Dinner smells delicious, love.”

Mum smiles. “It should be ready soon. I just need to set the table,” she says. “Lorelei, darling, could you help me with that?”

“Er…” I glance at Richard hesitantly, but he nods to let me know he will be fine. “Alright.”

Once in the kitchen, I take plates out of the cupboard, then bring them into the dining room, which overlooks the backyard, now submerged in the starry night. A dark linen tablecloth, which I gifted to mum a few years ago for Christmas, shields the antique table from spills and adds just the right touch of coziness to the panelled room. When I turn around to go gather utensils, I find mum standing in the doorway. The low, orange glow coming from the pendant light above the table softens her face, but I don’t miss the slight frown creasing her forehead.

“Don’t be too hard on your dad for tonight.”

“I rather think he’s the one being too hard,” I retort, crossing my arms over my chest. “Richard did nothing wrong, and yet dad acts as if I invited Grendel over for dinner!”

She tilts her head, telling me my joke was not well received. “Twenty years is a big age gap, darling.”

“Oh, not you, too,” I groan.

“Lorelei, please,” she speaks in a voice that tells me I ought to be silent and listen. “I am just looking out for you. I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Biting my lips, I think of the difficult week I just went through. The agonizing tension between Richard and me. The fragility of our secret. But I also think of all the precious memories that have warmed my heart for the past two months. Our first date, cuddling while watching telly, reading together in bed, our trip to Bath. Every single moment spent with Richard has been more perfect than I ever could have imagined.

“I’m happy,” I reply with a smile. “ I’m happy with him.”

Mum smiles in return. “Then I’m happy for you.” A huge weight falls off my shoulders when she hugs me tight. Then she steps into the sitting room to invite the others to the table, and I take a deep breath to prepare myself, hoping my dad will warm up to Richard soon.

Richard’s hair is slightly more tousled when he comes to sit next to me, telling me that his nervousness has not yet passed, so I reach out to squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Did I mention I’m sorry?” I say, causing him to chuckle. Then, biting my lips, I lean in closer and whisper in his ear, “I’ll make it up to you.”

He squeezes my arm in response, but further discussion is impeded as mum asks me to bring the veggies and mashed potatoes to the table. Once everything is set and everyone seated, I eagerly dig into my meal, grateful for the distraction it brings.

“Everything is delicious, Mrs Browning,” Richard says, and mum smiles warmly.

“Thank you! And please, call me Heather. ‘Mrs Browning’ makes me feel so old,” she says, causing Richard to chuckle. “You know, we are so happy to have you here. It’s been so long since Lorelei introduced us to a boyfriend of hers.”

“Mum!”

“What? It’s true,” she replies with a shrug, seemingly oblivious to my embarrassment. “You and Jason broke up years ago and there’s been no one since—”

“Mum, I am begging you, can we please talk about anything other than my dating history?”

“Alright, alright,” she says, then takes a sip of wine. “How’s work then?” she asks as she hands me the mashed potatoes.

“Great!” I reply, grateful for the new subject. “I’m swamped lately because of finals, but I love correcting assignments so I don’t mind it that much.”

“I wish I could get you to correct things for me,” Richard says, causing me to chuckle.

Mum laughs and then shakes her head. “How long have you been teaching at Oxford, Richard?”

“Eight years,” he replies as he puts down his wine glass. “I still can’t quite believe how I managed to get where I am.”

“Richard is too modest,” I say, reaching out to caress his arm. “He’s earned his place at Oxford; he’s a top researcher in his field … and all his students love him.” Those last words earn me a dirty look from Richard, but he fails to hide his smirk. “Just last week, we were in Bath for a Shakespeare conference where Richard was the keynote speaker. I’m telling you, I’ve never seen anyone get so many research proposals and invitations to conferences.”

“That’s wonderful!” mum says with a genuine smile on her face, causing Richard’s already deep blush to darken.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I tell him hastily, squeezing his shoulder. “He gets embarrassed when I praise him like that but I can’t help it.” I look up at him once more. “I’m proud of you.”

Mum’s smile softens, but dad still seems less than impressed.

“Why don’t you tell them about your new project?” Richard suggests.

“What new project?” dad asks.

“A colleague and I are organizing a conference at the college—dedicated to otherworlds in medieval literature. We actually just got the news this week that the college approved it all and would give us the funds we asked for.”

“That’s amazing, Lorelei, congratulations!” mum exclaims.

“Your mum and I are very proud of you,” dad adds, and I smile all the more.

“Thanks, dad. That means a lot.”

“You have every reason to be proud of her,” Richard affirms. “She really is a brilliant scholar and professor. Everyone in our department is impressed by her.”

I turn to face Richard, and I melt under the softness in his deep blue eyes. I usually get embarrassed when he praises me like that, but now I’m simply grateful for his unwavering support.

“‘Our’ department?”

I frown. “What?”

“You said ‘our’ department,” dad says, glaring at Richard.

A pause.

“I thought you said you worked at different colleges?”

Fuck.

Richard glances at me, then sighs, ignoring the look I give him. “No, we work together. In the same department at Exeter.”

“Richard—”

“Is that true?” mum asks, and when I notice the disapproval in her eyes, my heart tightens in my throat.

“Yeah, it’s true,” I admit in defeat, pressing my lips together.

“Why didn't you say that before?”

I try to remain calm, but the words tumble from my lips with an edge. “Because I knew you would make those faces!”

“Can you blame us?” dad retorts, his face twisted into a deep frown. “Aren’t you worried about what might happen if you two break up? What does your boss think of this?”

“We aren’t breaking any rules or laws, I don’t understand why this is such a big deal,” I say, though I know I don’t sound convincing.

“So your boss is okay with this?”

I find myself unable to meet his gaze as I say, “We haven’t told anyone yet.”

“Why not?”

I can’t answer that. Not here. Not now. I can feel Richard eyeing me from aside, and though his hand is right next to mine, he does not reach out to hold me.

“You’ve worked so hard to get where you are,” dad goes on, “are you really willing to risk that for him?”

“Of course not!” I reply before I can think twice about my words. “But … it’s not about that—”

“No? It seems perfectly clear to me that you are jeopardizing your career by dating him! I mean, really,”—his fist bangs against the table as he looks at Richard— “you claim to care about my daughter, but you let her lie to her boss for you?”

“Dad, you have no idea what you’re talking about! It’s not his fault—”

“Sir, believe me, the last thing I want is for our relationship to get in the way of her career,” Richard interjects, his voice soft despite the storm I can feel brewing inside him. “ I kept my feelings hidden for a long time because I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea, but there is no doubt in me now that it is. We do intend to let our boss know about our relationship in due time, but we chose to wait—”

“You should have told your boss right away. It’s the right thing to do,” dad interjects, now looking down at his half-eaten dinner.

“Your dad is right, darling,” mum says, her voice calm. “It’s not a good idea to lie to your boss when it’s your first semester at the college.”

I want to respond with something clever and unassailable that will convince them that I’m not acting unprofessionally or putting my career at risk, but the truth is that I cannot even convince myself of that fact.

The realization hits me like a punch straight in my chest, and I take an uneven breath as I rise from my seat and mumble, “I need to, er, powder my nose,” before rushing out of the dining room.

Once the bathroom door is locked behind me, I lean against the sink and let out a deep sigh. My head is pounding, as though my mind is trying to escape the chaos inside me. I’m sick of this secret—sick of disappointing Richard, but I’m too scared of what might happen if we reveal our relationship to the world. I don’t even have the courage to go back into the dining room and face my parents again. All I want is to go home and let Richard hold me until I fall asleep.

A knock on the door startles me, then Richard calls out my name, instilling both relief and unease inside me. When I open the door, he towers over me as he leans against the door frame.

“Are you okay?” he asks in a strained voice as he scratches his beard.

I shrug. “Sorry I left you out there. I just— I just really needed a break.”

Richard nods, then raises a hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. “Your mum says dessert is almost ready.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Okay.”

“We should just go, I think,” I say, looking down at my feet.

Not waiting for an answer, I take a deep breath and walk back into the kitchen, where mum and dad are putting the dishes in the dishwasher. They exchange an uncertain glance as they notice us, but I speak before they can say anything more.

“We’re gonna get going.”

Dad crosses his arms over his chest as mum says, “Oh no, I was just setting the table for dessert.”

I offer her an apologetic smile, but I don’t need to say anything more for her to understand. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Of course,” she replies, smiling hesitantly. “And Richard, you are welcome back anytime.”

I recognize guilt in her voice, and if I didn’t feel so awful, I would have appreciated that at least she was remorseful for how poorly they had treated Richard.

After a quick goodbye, Richard and I step out into the cold, dark night. It has started to rain, and as we hop into the car, water streams down the foggy windows. Neither of us says a word for a long time as we drive away. The mere sound of my shaking breaths feels too loud, and I press my lips together, trying to swallow all the emotions clogging my throat. It’s strange, really, how quickly things can fall apart. Just last weekend, we were in Bath, and everything seemed perfect. But now … now everything feels astray . I want to believe him when he says that everything between us is fine, but I know him well enough to sense that tonight, something has changed. And it terrifies me.

“Lorelei, talk to me,” Richard breaks the silence in a pleading voice.

I shrug. “What do you want me to say?”

The trees on each side of the narrow road create a tunnel that seems to be slowly closing in on us.

“I don’t know … Are you okay? Are we okay?”

The worry and insecurity in his voice pull at my heartstrings, yet somehow, I find myself saying, “Why did you tell them?”

“What?”

“Why did you tell my parents we work together?” I groan.

“It just slipped!” he replies, raising his free hand. “Wait—you’re not actually blaming me for this?”

“No, I just—”

“What does it matter if they know?”

“What does it matter? Don’t tell me you enjoyed being put on trial by my parents?”

“Of course not but—Christ, Lorelei—you really would have preferred that I lie to your parents? Are you that ashamed of our relationship?”

“What—of course not!” I hasten to say despite the knot forming in my throat at his raised voice.

“No matter what I do, you’re never ready to take the next step. It feels like you’ll never be ready to tell people about us.”

His words, sharp and unexpected, are like a claw around my heart, and suddenly I feel very alone.

“I asked you just a few days ago if you were still alright with this—with us being a secret. And you said you were! You said you would wait until I was ready!”

Richard tightens his hold on the steering wheel as we enter Oxford via High Street. “And I meant it! But it’s one thing to want to keep our relationship secret from our coworkers and another thing entirely to ask me to lie to your parents. And you didn’t even tell them about us at first. I just … I want to be with you, but lately it feels like I’m more invested in this relationship than you are.”

I stare at him, feeling small in the face of his rebuke and my eyes shining with unshed tears. My heart tears further in my chest, and I wonder how I could have failed to see the depth of his insecurity until now. These aren’t words he has thrown suddenly and carelessly at me; these are feelings that have festered inside him for a long time.

“Richard…” I take a deep breath past the painful constriction in my throat, but my voice remains brittle. “I know I haven’t always been the best girlfriend but … but I want to be with you! I’m just not ready—”

“I get it, alright?” he snaps, and this time I can’t hold back my tears. “You’re not ready to tell everyone about us. You’ve said that a thousand times before.”

Suddenly, the car stops, and I belatedly realize that we have arrived at my flat. The street is deserted, but in the distance, I can hear loud music and the cheers of partying students.

“You’re not coming in?” I ask when I notice that Richard isn’t moving. He simply stares back at me, his eyes filled with tears, and I swallow hard. “Richard, please, come in. We can talk about this in the morning—”

“Be honest, Lorelei,” he interrupts me, his voice thick with emotion, “Are you really just worried about what our colleagues might think about us? Or are you just not willing to commit to this—to us?”

“How can you even ask me that?”

“I’m asking.”

I blink, trying to clear my blurred vision. “Look, I’m just trying—everything is still so new to me. This city, this job—everything! I’m still figuring it all out!”

“Then maybe this isn’t the right time for us. Maybe you need to figure it out before you’re ready for a relationship.”

“Don’t say that,” I hasten to say, shaking my head. “You don’t mean that.”

At last, he reaches out to hold my hand, and I cling to him desperately, even if I know he will let go before I’m ready.

“Lorelei…” His voice cracks as he speaks my name. “I just … I can’t do this. I can’t keep holding on when you won’t even fight for us.”

“Please … don’t say that,” I plead, no longer caring about the tears streaming down my face. “Please, I want … I can’t—”

I swallow back my words when he shakes his head, and lets go of my hand. And just like that, I know. I know no matter what I say, it’s over.

I stare at him a moment more, as though hoping he will gaze back at me and pull me tightly into his arms to kiss me, but of course, he does no such thing, and before I lose control entirely, I grab my bag and haul myself out of the car.

Standing on the pavement , I watch him drive away, my hand tingling from the memory of his touch, and a sob breaks free from my trembling lips. A few months ago, I was terrified of getting hurt, but in the end, I am the one who hurt him.

—

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[rose-pearls]

The Amy March of Hawkins

This happens just before the halloween party in season two. The only warning here is that there is angst!

I have always loved the book Little Women, the story of the four sisters has always been a safety net when everything seemed to go to hell like Demogorgon’s in Hawkins. I never really had a favorite sister, but I have always liked the evolution of Amy March. These past months have been nothing but crazy so imagine my surprise when I find myself in a situation just like Amy March. For your information I do not have an excellent talent for painting like her, I can draw a few things but that is it. 

I have found myself in the same love situation as Amy, loving Steve Harrington aka Laurie while he loves my older sister Nancy. 

Steve Harrington has always been the popular guy who seems to have the world at his feet and last year he took an interest in Nancy. Now this was on one side positive because I could get to know him better but on the other side, he was stupidly in love with Nancy in a way that I wanted him to be with me. Just like Laurie he wasn’t perfect I mean he wrote on the towns theater that my sister was a slut, and he was a bit of a douchebag but this past year he seemed to have grown. Not that my sister would see any of that, maybe that is the reason why we are arguing right now. 

“He has maybe helped clean up the words that HE had written but he still broke Jonathan’s camera!”, Nancy yelled at me while throwing her hands in the air.

“Right Jonathan! Again! May I remind you that he took pictures of YOU naked! So sorry if I do not feel sorry for his camera when he acts like a creep”, I yelled right back at her while trying to make her understand my point. She seemed to have gotten closer to the older Byers and while I never had a problem with him the story with his camera always seemed to creep me out. But then again, the professor with whom Jo ends up with in the book was a bit creepy so maybe they belong together.

“He was trying to find his brother!”, Nancy told me while trying to find her clothes for her party with Steve tonight.

“Right, well next time I’m trying to find Mike I will go take a picture of you naked or from someone else! Plus, Steve bought Jonathan another camera.”, I told her the last bit with a winning smile thinking that I had won this argument. Somehow everything always goes wrong when I start to have confidence in me because Nancy didn’t start screaming back at me but just looked at me for a long time, before saying something that I never wished to hear from her. 

“You love him”, she seemed as shocked as me when she said it “It makes sense, you always defend him and always try to talk to him and have his attention.”, I felt weak as a heard her speak and no matter how hard I tried I could not speak and say that it wasn’t true. 

For the first time of our lives Nancy and I stood in her room in silence looking at each other. At first she looked betrayed – her own sister in love with her boyfriend – but then she looked at me with a mix of sadness and pity while I looked at her with tears in my eyes that I refuse to let fall. 

I whispered a pathetic sorry, not knowing for what I was excusing myself of. Before any of us could say something, the doorbell rang, and our mother screamed through the house.

“Nancy, Steve is here to pick you up for the Halloween party!”, Nancy shook her head as if trying to regain her senses. She seemed exhausted, but it has been the case since Barb disappeared and that she tried to forget it. 

“I should go”, she said with a tired whisper. I just nodded my head and let her go to the party where she had asked me not to go because of me being a year younger and not old enough.

As the door of her room closes, I feel the tears starting to fall and my body shaking. As I sit down on her bed, I see a picture of Steve and Nancy at Christmas and I know that even though Amy March got Laurie in the end I would never get Steve Harrington.

[hyunsuks-beanie]

I Love You Too, Love

Bang Chan x reader; just some good ol' tooth-rotting fluff

A/N: My first attempt at writing a real scenario lmao. Do lmk how it was❤Also, it's funny how I'm an anti-romantic to the core, but it all goes out the window when it's Chan

Coming back home at night after a long day at uni/work, you wanted nothing more than to cuddle and watch a nice movie with Chan. Your best friend had been on tour with his group, Stray Kids, for the past three months, and the daily messages and FaceTime calls were not nearly enough to stop you from missing him like crazy. The teeny tiny (or so you insisted) crush that you had on him, didn't help either. You missed his voice, his tight hugs, the way he would always listen to rant about your day, the way he would always know what to say, the way his smile would light up your day, everything. While he did try to fill the gap by still listening to your rants on a daily basis on FaceTime, it just wasn't the same without him being there in person.

Sighing, you unlock your door, expecting to be met with pitch darkness. Instead, what you saw made you drop your bag to the floor, as tears welled up in your eyes. There, standing in the middle of your living room, was Chan, your best friend, who was supposed to be away for yet another month. Not able to believe your eyes, you pinch yourself, only to realize that he is indeed there, in the flesh, smiling at you as if you mean the world to him (unbeknownst to you, you most certainly do).

"Missed me?," he asks, and you suddenly find yourself running towards him at full speed, crashing into his chest and wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug ever. This causes Chan to slightly lose his balance, and makes him laugh heartily before placing a gentle kiss atop your head. "I missed you too, love. So so so much."

After staying like that for a solid two minutes, you finally break free, glaring up at him playfully. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming home?," You ask, trying your best to suppress your smile and appear angry. This causes him to chuckle before cheekily saying, "If I had told you, I wouldn't have been able to seen your true happiness at seeing me. If you already knew, you would probably have acted as if you're disgusted that I'm back, and we didn't want that now, did we?"

You shove his chest slightly, before finally turning your head towards the dining table, only to be met with the sight and aroma of all your favourite dishes, that Chan had apparently spent all evening trying to make. "You must be hungry. Freshen up and let's dig in, I'm starving," He says, pushing you lightly towards the bathroom. While getting changed, you finally register the fact that your heart is hammering in your chest, reminding you that the man standing in your living room means so much more to you than just your best friend.

Being away from Chan for months has made you realize that what you feel for him is much more than just a crush. You may very well be in love with him, but you're too scared to admit it because neither do you want to face rejection, nor can you bring yourself to put his career at risk. With these thoughts in mind, you finally exit the bathroom, sighing deeply to yourself.

You don't, however, notice that Chan too, is in a dilemma of his own. Before going on tour, he too, knew that he liked you. But being away from you made him realize that you are his home, and that he would much rather be with you than with anyone else. He has been planning to confess today, and has been trying to gauge your feelings ever since you came back home. Your sigh doesn't escape him, and, full of concern, he asks, "What's wrong, love? Got something on your mind? You know you can always tell me." Truth be told, he's worried and scared that you already know about his feelings, and don't reciprocate them. He fails to see your knees going week and a blush creeping up your cheeks at the nickname, and instead, all he notices is you giving him a small smile and saying, "Not at all Channie, I'm completely fine. Now let's eat up before the food goes cold."

Once you guys get a couple bites in, the awkward atmosphere starts easing once again. Chan tells you all about the tour and all the places he saw. "London was the best, but I wish you were there. You would have enjoyed the London Eye." "Well then, you'll have to take me there one day." You tell him about how life has been back in Seoul, ranting about your annoying professor/boss, and he tells you about all the small trinkets that he saw at souvenir shops that reminded him of you. "That charm bracelet was so you, I just had to buy it." "You didn't have to Chan. I don't need any gifts, having you back home is enough."

After dessert, you ask him if he'd stay the night, and he says that since he has the week off, the boys don't expect him to back at dorms until the following morning. "So.....you're staying?," You ask with a small smile tugging at your lips. He smiles back at you lovingly, and ruffles your hair before saying, "Yes love, I'm staying. Now let's watch a movie."

After picking the movie, you come back to sit on the couch next to Chan, throwing your legs across his lap. Now it's his turn to blush, but unlike him, you're not oblivious to his reddening cheeks. "Awww, is Channie blushing? Why? This isn't the first time I've thrown my legs over your lap," You chuckle, causing him to hide his face in his hands. "Yeah but, I've really missed this being away from you all this while," He smiles warmly.

The first half of the movie goes by with the both of you making random comments about it. At one particular scene where the characters are having nachos, Chan suddenly exclaims, "Salsa reminds me, the boys and I learnt a little Salsa during our time in Italy, and I really wanted to teach you some of the moves." "Me?," You ask, bewildered, causing Chan to become shy and start stuttering. "I-I m-mean if you w-want to. It's o-okay if y-you don't."

You're having a hard time trying not to melt into a puddle at his cuteness, as you force your mouth to open, and say, "No Chan, I'd love to." "Really?," He returns to his giggly self, as he gets up off the couch and extends his hand out for your to take. You smile and take his hand, and he brings you to the center of the room. "Just one sec," He says, pausing to pick the music on his phone. Once he's done, he places his phone on the table, and starts guiding you through the dance, one step at a time, with the movie being nothing more than a long-forgotten background noise. "Left foot forward, right foot backward. That's right, now dip, and come back. Now place your leg on my waist....," You both freeze at this, realizing what he just said. It's only then that you notice just how close you are to him, and the familiar feeling of your heart racing comes back. You both stare at each other, hypnotized, before your eyes flick to his lips and back up to his eyes. When he does the same, you timidly ask, "Can I kiss you?"

That's all it takes to break Chan out of his trance, as he crashes his lips onto yours, kissing you as if his life depends on it. You don't even notice that he is backing you up, until you feel your back hit the wall. His lips taste sweet and a little spicy, which you attribute to the food you had earlier. The kiss is soft but full of emotions, and even though it does seem a bit cliche, you can feel fireworks fly. The butterflies in your stomach every time you see Chan seem to have been replaced by a whole zoo, and you can't help but smile into the kiss. This causes Chan to break into a smile as well, before he gently lets go.

"I really want to keep kissing you because God have I been waiting to do that for years, but I feel like I need to get this off my chest first," He says, shy once again. "I like you, a hell lot. Actually no, screw that, I think I'm already in love with you. I've known this for a long time, but I was just scared to admit it. Being away from you during the tour made me realize that I want to be more than just 'best friends' with you. I want to call you 'mine,' and I want to be yours." "Oh Channie, you don't know how much I have wanted to hear you say that you love me too, this distance has been a wake-up call for me too, but I was just so scared of jeopardizing either our friendship, or your career. And I can't have either of those two." "Don't worry about my career, we'll find a way out love. Just say the word, say that you love me." To this, you gawk at him, before saying, "I gave you a speech on that just now, didn't I? Of course I love you." "Yeah but you didn't explicitly say that you love me, idiot. But now that you've said the right words, I legit feel like the happiest man on earth." You shove him slightly before wrapping your arms around his torso. "So, now that we've got our feelings sorted, what does that mean for us?" "Well, for starters, I think it means that my nickname for you just took on a literal meaning," Chan smirks. You pout at this, but then say, "I love you Channie." He places his chin in your head, and says, "I love you too, love."

[yeoldontknow]

love; always | jhs (m)

A/N: written as fulfillment for the june house game at @bangtansorciere   ❂ A Summer Night’s Dream       ⁂ Hosted by: Professor Dove @dulcetvk through @bangtansorciere AU Type: Long & Luminous (soulmates au) Themes: Pen-pals, Reincarnation, Pining Kinks: biting, marking, scratching, spanking, fingering, cunnilingus, edging, face riding, sex toy usage, exhibitionism, praise kink

↝ Creative Content Contributor: @jamaisjoons​ who created this amazing moodboard isnt it so gorgeous, i cry ;~~; ↝ Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (oc; female) ↝ Genre: soulmate au; reincarnation au; pen-pals; letters au; romance; angst; immense pining; smut ↝ Rating: NC-17 ↝ Summary: At the start of quarantine, you signed up for a pen-pal website to keep yourself occupied during the pandemic. Jung Hoseok’s name stood out to you, for reasons you assumed were insignificant. Over the next year, as your relationship develops, you both come to realize this is not the first time you have exchanged letters, it is not the first time you have loved him, and it very likely will not be the last. Told in a series of letters throughout time, this is the story of a love that has endured throughout history. ↝ Warnings: explicit sexual references; explicit sexual discussions; dirty talk; explicit discussions of: biting, marking, spanking, face riding, fingering (f receiving), cunnilingus, exhibitionism, clit biting, crying, hair pulling, very light breast play, slight pain kink, edging; light dom x sub themes; explicit use of sex toys; praise kink ↝ Word Count: 7.3K        ↝ special thank you to @jamaisjoons​ and @kithtaehyung​ for reading parts of this and being so encouraging! 

July 3, 1902

My Sparrow,

Your letter arrived on Sunday and I have since spent the passage of time between then (the moment my hands clutched the thick wrapping of the envelope) and now (the moment in which I am sitting on my bed and I am remembering you, a version of you, a day in Paris when you wore pink and gold and you held my hand along the Seine) revisiting the distance between the words you wrote. The letters were so carefully structured, I ran my nail over the shape of my name over and over, certain the ink would erode beneath my fervent caress. I often wonder if you mean to make me crave you with such impressive magnitude, my own pathetic attempts to place blame for my inexcusable longing for you. But even as I think on you, and us, and the memory of your every name in my mouth, it seems all I ever manage is the distinct feeling that you pervade my very existence. 

I admit I held your letter against my chest as I fell back against my bed, imagining it was your breast. We breathed together like this, silently, although not truly breathing at all, and I begged for the music of your voice. My room grew dark as the sun began to set, time creeping over me slowly, the whisper of your voice lurking in the shadows that grew long, pages turning in our story without my complete attention. But I held you against me, your letter, the paper, your words, and I imagined us falling into sleep. Your hair was in my mouth, thick, flowing, messy, yours. Did I imagine it? Or was it another trick of our existence? An accident of time? You were not there, not even myself. Perhaps I fell through to another when, another day, another moment in which I belonged to you, for they are always the same.

I have not much else to say here, only that I love you. I long for you and I love you. We have not met, not truly, a chance encounter along the bridge in which I found your hair pin; your gloved, outstretched hand unfurled in my direction and I swooned. It took one day, not nearly an hour, and I loved you. I have always loved you. The dreams are getting stronger, my love, promise you will meet me there.

Ever yours, inexpressibly, 

H

March 19, 2021

Hoseok,

Happy one year anniversary! 

Can you believe it’s been one year since we became pen-pals? I joined that website on a whim at the start of quarantine and sent a letter to your address; terrified, and not expecting a reply, yet still so desperately hopeful. Who knew one short letter would lead to all of this. This.  A word that feels so heavy, even as I write it. I still haven’t told anyone about it. How can I? Where would I even begin? 

I’m glad to hear your job is going well. After such a long time searching, I’m glad you’ve found something that makes you feel engaged and fulfilled. You worked so hard for this, but please don’t wear yourself down comparing yourself to your seniors. You’ll have plenty of time to catch up to them. For now, just enjoy where you are, what you’re becoming. Is that too much? Am I speaking too soon? There I go again, inferring things just because I feel like they are true, or right, or maybe it’s because we’re so similar and deep down, all I ever want is to help. I want to be of use for you. 

No. 

None of this is what I truly want to say.

For you, I want to matter. I want to be important. I want you by my side, so I can witness you. Your smile, your care, your anger, your rage. I am selfish like this, and you know it. You recognized it after three letters, calling me out with such an incisive smile (I saw it behind the curve, in the way you wrote my name, like you were careful with it, and still so teasing). 

I dreamed of you again last night. It wasn’t you, but it was. It was both of us. I was outside myself, witnessing the way we loved each other. You clasped my hand in yours and slow danced with me during the golden hour. I don’t know when it was, or where. The clothes we wore were not modern, were so plain and so insignificant against the light that nestled along your cheek. You hummed into my ear, and I watched my hair move, trembling with your breath. We moved languidly, in time with one another, eyes closed as if we had seen enough of the world and chose instead to remain in the dark, together. You glowed like walking embers, and I remember willing the other version of myself to see you, to look at you, to take it in, so I wouldn’t be alone in this awe. It struck me, then, that she had seen it countless times before, and chose, instead, to feel it.

Is it possible to be jealous of oneself? To crave that which you have already seen? I, she, we - had already seen you in glory over and over again, overrun with such a vision, and I envied every moment of it. How terrible that I should only have pictures of you, an Instagram account that compresses your every nuance into intangible pixels. How horrid that I get only FaceTime calls with you, fleeting moments in which we are both awake before one of us falls asleep or the sun rises, or sets, because time zones are their own barrier. 

How long have I been without you? How long have we lived like this, used to memories rather than touch? I’m dramatic, I know this. I’m irrational, I know this. But I can’t help myself, not when it’s about you. 

See. This is why I shouldn’t write back to you in the daylight, where I think I can see you. I see you so much better at night, when the darkness is kind to me, and the world seems to open. In the dark, I find myself grounded in the moment, when I can focus, and I lean into another life that happens in parallel to ours. One where we are together. 

One where your hands on me are not a memory.

Write to me the moment you get this. I’m hungry for your voice. I’m hungry for you.

Don’t let your mother see this. Not like last time, when you left the letter out on your desk, and she, so innocent and well meaning, placed your laundry on your bed and read three explicit words. I want you all to myself. 

Yours, endlessly,

Y/N

March 25, 2021

Y/N,

Your letter could not have come at a better time. For you, it was 3am and you were fighting sleep, eyes drooping every few seconds as you battled the slow wind down of your breath. I don’t think you saw me smiling at you. If you did, you didn’t mention it. Still, I wanted you to. There’s something so addicting about the way you pout. Anyway, it was the middle of night for you. When you finally fell asleep, I hung up after a few minutes of watching you, trying to pretend I was someone productive - more like...convincing myself I was not distracted by you. That I am not distracted by you. Even when you aren’t here. 

Anyway. 

I was mourning the loss of you when the mail came. There you were, pen to paper instead of face to...screen. I must be unbelievably lucky to spend this whole day with you. 

It’s 5pm for me, now, and I am obeying your wishes. I just clocked out of work and took to writing, even though I don’t really know what to say. I never do. I never have plans for things I’d like to tell you, words just seem to come when I think about sharing any amount of time with you. 

That dream sounds like heaven, though I admit my dreams of you are getting stronger, too. Did you hear anything in the dream, apart from me humming? Was there music? Did you say my name? My own dreams are getting stronger, though sometimes they don’t include you. Those are painful, because you’re not there, but I think they might be worth sharing, at least in some way. 

I’ve seen myself - several different versions of me. Sometimes, my hair is dark and other times it’s red, and one time it was greyed into old age. In that dream, I found myself reaching for your hand across lace sheets, eagerly seeking your touch and grimacing when I only found cold cotton. I never know when I am or where I am, but I have seen countless moments and days and lives I once lived. I don’t think there is any particular or singular importance to them, only that they were mine and in them I was yours.   

In each, I am in love with you which leads me to believe I am alive to love you. Every time, I look different. Not me, not me, but an amalgamation of features I still have in different lighting. Yesterday, I washed my face before bed and caught a glimpse of the angle of my jaw. I looked old. And young. And Other. But I didn’t feel scared. I think it’s because no matter who I am, I have you. Loving you is as much a purpose of my existence as it is a symptom, as if you are the universe and I am not myself unless I am within you. 

I haven’t told anyone about this either. My mother has yet to mention the letters again, though I suppose it’s easier to ignore them now that I’m moving out. Namjoon knows I have a pen-pal, and I’m sure I could tell him what’s been going on for the past year. He’s always so sensible and so sensitive. But at this point...I want you to myself, too. 

It’s funny you mentioned your first letter. I found it the other day - I say found. What I really mean is: I read back nearly everything you sent me when I miss you, which is all the time; I read back everything you sent me when I want to remember you, the other parts of you, the history of you, which is all the time. Anyway. I read back your first letter and I laughed at how innocuous it was. So short and simple, a fond hello and some information about you. Your whole existence confined and constrained to a template. Did you know those details would be the single most important lines I would ever read? They ignited something within me, forcing me to stand at the edge of a future that will no longer be mine, but ours. Our future, which will eventually become our remains. 

You, your age, your name, your location, your hobbies. As if these very things mattered so little in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps they did, and maybe they do, but I felt, as I’ve said before, like I knew you from the first stroke of your pen. A year inside, with nothing to truly entertain or frustrate me as much as you, has been bliss. It frightens me sometimes, to think of another life. A life we don’t talk about. In which we did not start speaking, or writing, and I didn’t add my name to that list because there would be no reason to. My life was rich and full, and it still is, but it’s colored now, filled with textures of lives rather than a single life. 

This is getting quite long, again, but I feel like I have so much more to tell you. So, I will tell you this, the most important of my somethings: 

I will love you today, and I will love you tomorrow, as I have been doing and as, it seems, I have always done. You say you’d like to be of use to me, that you would like to matter, but my dear I think you matter more to me than the Sun. The thought that there could be moments in which we do not exist together, or that you do not exist, torments me.

I know I told you over FaceTime, but it must always be said: I’d like to trace the tendons of your neck with my tongue, just to hear you breathe my name against my skin. I’d like to press my hips against yours and feel you writhe in unsurmountable pleasure; I’d laugh, and you would blush, and I’d do it again just to watch the flow of your blood. The spread of your legs delights me, and I’ve grown passionate about the space I will one day occupy between your thighs. 

Think of me fondly in your dreams. Kiss me like you mean it. Suck my breath into your lungs and keep me there. Maybe I will nap just to find you.

Yours,

Hoseok

October 11, 1772

H.J.,

My Sunlight. My Joy. My Nightingale. 

I think so often of your swollen lips against my breasts, I fear I might suffocate beneath this desire. I should have never let you into my bed. You must have vexed me, hexed me, for I can still smell you in the rough muslin and hay. You imparted a piece of yourself with me, and I cling to it nightly. When the moon is high, I press myself against it, aching for the course movement of your hands over my skin. How many more weeks at sea must you be apart from me? How much longer must I be abandoned? The slit between my thighs drips at the thought of you, and not even the dawn can separate your shadow from my soul; the dawn is always worse.

I’m getting ahead of myself.

The frost came the morning after you left, a chill descending upon the earth, mourning you - much like me. My mother watched me embroider in the parlor, her eyes moving over me carefully, studiously. I wondered if she noticed the change in me, the aching center of my core that throbbed with you. You told me not to hold your essence inside me, and as she watched me, gaze unyielding, I felt terribly tempestuous. I wished you were still dripping down my thighs, thick creamy white against the ample expanse. I’d have shown her - I’d have shown everyone, lewd and horrid as I am. I want everyone to know you are mine, and I am yours. I want everyone to know you have had me, and will have me again, over and over, until my body seeks the ash of yours in our grave. 

Although it is only October, we’ve had to light a fire as the nights grow longer, deeper, colder. What trick of man are you to take the sun when you go away? Still, we lit the fire and I continued to embroider your name into the pillow slip, watching it turn amber and feeling as though you had blessed it. I told everyone I was making it for myself, when, really, it is for us. With each stitch, I imagined your head next to mine; your fingers slipping beneath my bodice to tease my erect nipples - as you so often do; my head pressing into the goose feathers as I take you deeper, harder. Distracted, I pricked myself on the needle, watching my blood drip, drip, drip, onto the fabric, and it reminded me of how I stained my sheets with you inside me. 

The stain won’t be removed, darling. I rather think we’d both like it to stay. 

It will be weeks before you read this, months, perhaps, should the sea prove ill tempered. I’ve grown envious of the water and the fish and the crabs you spend so much time hunting. Hunt me, darling. Make me your prey. Waiting for your mouth on me once more is a torment I am uncertain I can endure. 

When you come back to me, press your teeth into the flesh of my breast. Mark me, draw my blood upward into your wet mouth, and bruise me. I’d wear you against my heart, inside my core, warmed and aching the totality of you. Until then, I will spread myself open in the scent of your damp flesh that still lingers in my bed. I will spread myself, and make myself ready for you, remembering the way you burned inside me; remembering how it feels to clutch the sun between my bones.

Until then, remember how it felt to taste me, darling. You will come home to me. You will read the letters I have written for you daily and you must detail for me the torture you endured without my thighs around your hips. Tell me, honestly, how your mouth has hungered for the juice that spills from my core, and I will drip for you once again.

Ever yours, completely,

Y/N

April 11, 2020

Y/N,

I was so relieved to receive your letter this week. After my awkward reply, I was convinced maybe you had found someone else to write from the website haha. I really liked the added decorations with the cloud stickers and the stars. By far and away, it had the most personality in my letterbox. Much nicer than the spam letters from credit card companies. There’s something so exciting about receiving mail intended just for you, a thrill that takes you back to childhood in a single instant. It was thrilling to see your letter there, and I couldn’t help but smile.

I’m glad to hear that working from home has been relaxing for you, at least in some capacity. In small apartments, it can be hard to adjust. Are you finding you’re more productive at home? Initially, I was. There are less distractions, and no one is here to interrupt me with questions. I’m more stationary, more quiet - I’m still deciding if this is a good thing or a bad thing. It’s strange to notice I can go many hours without speaking at all, and my apartment becomes so grey. In some ways, I find it lonely, but is it better than being in the office all day? This, too, I’m still deciding. 

Sorry about all the canceled spring plans. I had a bunch of plans lined up for this, and next month, too, but I guess it’s good we’re staying home and saving money. I -- - maybe I shouldn’t say this, but it means maybe I’d get more time to write you. That’s a lot to say for only my second letter, but I looked forward to your reply more than I thought I would. I looked forward to you more than I thought I would. Did you maybe feel the same way too? I don’t know, I’m just glad you found my name, and that you picked me. It almost seems like I’d been expecting your letter.

I don’t have any whiteout so I guess that will stay. I’m too lazy to write this all again. I don’t like repeating myself, and writing everything back would feel redundant, all the energy removed from the words. Does that make sense? Am I making sense? Once again, this will be a strange letter. I’m sorry haha, I promise I will get better at this. Your letters are always so rich and full, you’re so much better at this than I am. I’ve never really sat down to write out thoughts like talking, but your letters make me want to try. For you, I will try.

I’ve said so many silly things in this letter, so now I’m not really sure what more to add. It’s nice, though, seeing that this letter is longer than the last. I didn’t realize I had so much to say.

Write soon,

Hoseok

April 21, 2020 

Hoseok,

You said a lot of really important things in your letter, please don’t feel like they were silly! 

Actually, there is something I wanted to address that you mentioned. You said you looked forward to my letters, that you were glad I picked your name, that you were glad I’m writing to you and not someone else. You wondered if I felt the same way, and the answer is yes.

I’ll be honest - I saw your name and it felt like sunlight, like the word itself was comforting and, maybe, radiant. There, I have said something equally silly, something just as universally true. It was a knee to the chest, a gasp and a click of my mouse to see your address. Even as I wrote that introductory letter, it felt painful to stick to the website formatting. I was stifled. Smothered. Nothing in the template felt good or right or important enough as my first hello to you. 

I was so nervous sending my letter because it felt so important. I kept telling myself there was no way you’d reply, but I wanted you to. I don’t think I’ve wanted many things half as much, so I forced myself to stay optimistic. It’s reassuring to know it’s not just me. It’s not just me who writes a letter and then grieves the ever expanding length of time between that moment and your reply. It’s not just me who is glad that maybe I’ll have longer letters simply because I’ll have more time, or maybe shorter letters because there won’t be much to say and I will say just enough. It’s not just me who is glad you replied. 

I’m smart enough to know it’s not really supposed to be this way, is it? Do pen-pals look forward this much to seeing the other person’s handwriting? Do pen-pals look forward this much to another 10 minutes with words that are little more than an echo? When I was in grade school, I had to take a language class. Our first project was writing pen-pals in our target language. It was set up by the school, and it was sterile and impersonal. I was excited at first to write to this French girl who was my age and maybe liked the same things I did, but she replied only once. Even then, I wasn’t as disappointed as I am in the anticipation of your reply. I grow fearful as days of silence pass, wondering if maybe things are coming to an end. And it’s not childhood fears resurfacing, it feels so much worse, so much heavier. 

It’s only been four letters between us but this feels like so much more. It feels like so much else.

Write soon,

Y/N

June 4, 2020

Y/N,

It happened again last night. 

By the time you get this letter, you’ll have already received the one I mailed yesterday. If I’m lucky, customs will hold them together and they’ll get to you at the same time. If I’m less lucky, they might be a day or so apart. If I’m not lucky at all, they will be staggered and I’ll have to spend even more time waiting for your reply, waiting to see if it’s happening like this for you, too. 

And I know I could just message this to you, and I know I could send this through Instagram or KKT or literally any other messaging platform we’ve started to use. But I think it’s important I handwrite this. Because...if I don’t, then it remains digital, and that feels wrong. No, that’s not exactly what I mean. If I don’t write it, then it’s not real. It will be just a message, and it can be deleted or unsent or some other compound adjective of negativity and I don’t want that. If I message this instead of write it, I will read it back always always always and feel ridiculous, or spend too much time picking it apart until I convince myself it’s not real. Messaging makes it feel worse, and so I’m sorry you have to wait to read things like this, but once you get this we can talk or message, but just this time, for me, I have to write it out. Otherwise, it will feel like...insomnia. A product of a sleep I know I had, but fabricated just the same. 

Like I said in yesterday’s letter, ever since you told me about that YouTube channel with that spiritual woman - the one who does mediations and energy readings - it’s like my axis has been thrown off. Like I am not myself, or I don’t belong to myself. Was I too flippant when you first mentioned this? It’s just that it seemed so crazy to me - not that you are crazy, but that any of this could be happening, and neither of us even knows what it means. 

Anyway. 

Ever since you told me about that channel, I’ve been dreaming. I know lots of people dream, but I rarely do. And now, my dreams are vivid. The one I wrote you about was pretty intense, but last night’s…I’m starting to think these aren’t dreams. They feel too real, too much, like memories I’ve kept in dark places rather than images fabricated by a brain that’s gone lucid. It felt...like I lived in this dream. When I woke up, I thought days had passed - many days, maybe even months, and I was comfortable and certain my life was resumed in that world. It felt easy, and it felt normal, and I could read. I remember you saying it’s rare to be able to read in dreams, but I read letters...from you, not you but a different one, one who felt exactly like you; I read menus and I read books, I read so much in the dream and that isn’t even the half of it.

Here’s that most important aspect of the dream:

Spring had just started and warmth had entered the kitchen. It was our kitchen, in a home we made, and shared, and nurtured. The house smelled of warm bread and lavender - your favorite - and even from the footpath to the door I could smell it, as though you were erupting between the seams of the window sills. At the door, you greeted me. I knew it was you the same way I knew I had been expecting your first letter in March; the same way I knew you were familiar from my first look at your Instagram; as if, all your energy has been golden since the dawn of time, and I have learned to see your shades rather than your faces - because your face is many but your soul is just one, and I seem to have known it from the first moment of my existence. Still, you greeted me with a kiss and I fell into it, into you. Your breath enveloped me, so human in its wet nature, and I clung to your hips with purpose. Impatient, I moved a hand to your skirts and hoisted them up, feeling you laugh against my lips as my fingers sought the separation of fabric in your bloomers. 

‘You’re already wet for me,’ I said, feeling you drip into my rough palm, soaked and wanting.

‘The sun makes everyone hot,’ you teased, and my chest started to swell - because you were mine, and I was proud that even after all the years we’d been together (years, I knew it was years, because neither of our skin was taught and perfect anymore) you still burned for me alone. 

I pressed my fingers between your folds to the knuckle, and you whimpered, resting your forehead on my shoulder. It was then you started explaining to me that you needed me - you’d wanted me since the moment you woke.

‘You left with the dawn and I was left craving the thickness of your girth between my thighs,’ you moaned, and I found a motion of swiftness within my hand, thrust up against your velvet, hearing the squelch of your juices against my skin. ‘You make such a habit of leaving me lonely.’

I hated this, probably more than I hate it when we hang up or when there’s a delay in customs because of the pandemic, or any of the other myriad of reasons that we are separated. I hated so much the idea of leaving you aching that I removed my hand from you altogether and walked you up the stairs. We said nothing else while we undressed, and I was still so amused by the sheer amount of fabric women seem to wear in their fashions. I was done before you, and sat on the bed watching you undress. Your exposed breasts were rounded with age, but your nipples still stood erect for me, beckoning for my mouth. But I leaned back on my hands and spread my legs, letting my cock lure you forward, and only when you were completely naked did you pay it any attention. You let me admire you as you turned, and bent to collect the clothing at your feet, giving me a sight of your ass. I wanted my hands on it, I wanted my teeth on it, and I groaned, knowing that you were doing this to give me just a taste of what you had been going through since I left to pick wildflowers for you, our table, the kitchen, and the places we share with no one else. 

I fucked you, in the most visceral of ways. Even now, I still remember the feeling of your teeth on my shoulder, the burning of your tongue as it wandered over my collarbone. My hips still throb with the force of burying myself deep inside you, and so now - now, Y/N, I have to ask if you dreamed the same thing?

I’ve had dreams like this before - obviously. I had them as a teenager, I’ve had them as an adult, and I have never been ashamed about the intensity of my libido. But I have never had a dream that clung to me like this, never had a dream that woke me up and made me weep to go back home - because it was home. You are home. I was at home between your thighs, pressed against the barrier of your cervix, your whimpering in my ear, and I have been hard all day, thinking of you. Every version of you, but especially you, now, this current you, who is thousands of miles away and has no idea how badly I want to press my tongue against her clit just to hear her beg.

Are you dreaming like this? In your dreams, do you want me this much? In daylight, do you want me at all?

Write me the moment you get this,

Hobi

June 12, 2020

Hobi,

I want you all the time. I want you constantly.

Yes, I have been dreaming like this. Yes, they have all been of you.

But reading your letter inspired only one question:

If you could have me now, how would you want me?

Yours,

Y/N

June 20, 2020

Y/N,

I can’t answer that.

I can’t answer that because you have no idea what I’m like. I can be downright beastly if I want someone badly enough, and I think you always slightly underestimate how badly I want you.

So let’s start with, how do you want me to have you?

I’ll do it, I promise.

Tell me and I won’t forget.

Hobi

June 29, 2020

Hobi,

The other night I woke from a dream of you buried so deep inside me I was certain I could taste you on my tongue.

I want you like that, but honestly I want you worse. I want more than any other version of us (because, at this point, I am convinced they are of us. I’m convinced every life we live is ours to share, and I am half of you the same way you are half of me, and if I am to want someone, I will always be wanting you). Every version of me, except this one, has had you. And now I want you so badly I think my bones are starting to quake from the force of it. 

Yesterday, I laid on my bed and pressed my vibrator against my cunt, thinking of this:

I want to rest on my hands and knees, on my bed, naked and waiting. I want you to make me wait for you, because I think at this point anticipation is synonymous with who we are. I want to wait for you, with you so close behind me my skin crawls with you. The electric presence of your energy behind me would raise goosebumps on my skin, and I will tremble for you. You are the reason for the shifting of my tectonic plates. I want you to punish me, punish something, for keeping us separated for so long. Take it out on me, darling, and redden my flesh with the palm of your hand. 

Spank me once. I will whisper your name and keep myself quiet, obedient. 

Spank me again. I will gasp from the force and lower my forehead to the fabric of the pillow, a prayer. 

Spank me a third time, and this time tears will prick at my eyelids. Do not be gentle, for I don’t think we are gentle. We don’t have it in us anymore. The universe has been cruel this time, and I am angry. I want to feel the force of it ripple through my spine, down my thighs, into the soles of my feet. 

Spank me a fourth time. This time, the tears will break and I will cry, choking on your name. Spreading my legs wider, I will beg for something hard between the slit of my cunt. The action will cause me to leak for you, the slick evidence of my desire for you streaking down my thighs. I want you to take two fingers and catch it all, taste it, tell me that you like it. Tell me that you like me. Tell me that I’m good, and sweet, and honeyed just for you. I’ll preen under such praise, and ask you to spank me again.

Don’t deny me. Spank me a fifth time. I will choke once more on your name and rear myself backwards, pressing into your palm as you soothe me. I will have an ulterior motive for this, seeking the tip of your cock to bury it inside me, desperate to be full of you.

Pull my hair when I do this, tell me that I have to be patient, tell me that you will make it worth my while. I can do anything if you tell me to do it.

Spank me a sixth time for this imprudence. I will fall forward slightly, feeling the sheets rub against my breasts and I will cry out again, my lips wet with saliva from my ecstatic gasping. This time, tell me to keep quiet. Tell me that if I am not quiet and good you will gag me, stuff me full of things that are not you. I will nod, and obey, but I will look back at you, hoping to see that you are as far gone as I am.

Look at me all you like when I do this. Be it none, or a little, or so much that you almost forget that my swollen ass is held within your palm; so much so that I almost forget there has been any distance between us at all, and that my legs are shaking. I will not forget the aching at my core, the clenching of my walls around nothing causing more of my juices to coat my thighs, falling onto the sheets. I cannot forget that wanting, since it has been a constant since your fifth letter - perhaps, even before then.

Spank me a seventh time, a reminder that I must focus. At this point, I will grip the sheets and exclaim in surprise that I could maybe cum like this, the nerves down my thighs and in my cunt so sensitive I am telling lies to myself for relief. My clit will throb, and I will whimper in realization that I am, in fact, lying. 

Spank me an eighth time for this dishonesty. Tell me that you will not let me cum until you are balls deep inside me, throbbing; that I am only allowed to cum once you are at your limit. 

Arms weakened, I will fall forward onto the bed, and nod, lips chapped from biting and my effort to be good for you, quiet for you, your favorite person, your favorite thing, the absolute best you have ever had. Take my hips in your hands and lift them, bruise my flesh with the tips of your fingers so I can wear these marks - the blue and the purple and the red of your hand - for days. Mark me and wound me so that I can’t sit without thinking of the spaces in me you have learned to occupy. 

Kiss both cheeks of my ass before lowering to kiss at the exposed and swollen folds of my cunt. Then, and only then, may you flip me over. Spread my legs wide and place yourself between them, lowering your face to my cunt where you will suck and bite at my clit, moving just slightly to bury your tongue inside me. Unable to contain myself, I will scream, and you laugh, licking and licking at my core until we no longer can tell what is your saliva and what are my juices - no. You will know. Because you will taste it. I want you to taste me, drink me. Consume me, but still do not let me cum.

With my hands still fisted in the sheets, I will arc off the bed and thrust against your tongue, riding your face and using any part of you to find release. Be still for me as I do this, just keep drinking me down, let me smear your face with my cunt and use you for my pleasure. You are my pleasure. All of it. Every piece of you gives me more pleasure than life itself. 

But still, do not let me cum. 

Pull away from me and watch me cry out in despair. Smile at me then, for only your warm smiles - brighter than sunshine, I tell you, the brightest things I have ever seen - can placate me. My orgasm will have lingered within my belly, threatening to erupt three times by now, and I will be petulant and tired and aching, begging, to cum for you. My cheeks will be soaked with tears, and my brow will be dampened with sweat, but your smile will only make me burn brighter, harder for you. 

Smile at me, tell me that you are aching for me, too.

Thrust yourself into me. Bury yourself to the hilt, and bite at my breasts as you do so. I will wind my fingers into your hair, meeting you thrust for thrust, and will hold you against my heart, showing you the way it is under your command. 

It is then that I want you to tell me,

‘I was made to stretch this pretty cunt.’ 

Tell me,

‘You’ve been such a good girl for me.’

Hearing that I’ve been good will make me clench around you, my eyes wide as I look to the ceiling, the crown of your head, the place where our bodies meet, anywhere that makes me feel as though my soul is leaving my body to join yours.

Tell me,

‘I won’t last if you keep doing that.’

Tell me,

‘If you moan like that again, I’m going to stuff my cock inside your mouth.’

Tell me you love me.

Tell me that you love me.

I promise once you tell me that, I will wait for you to spill yourself inside me. I will clutch the cheeks of your ass and press you deeper as you cum, forcing you against my cervix. In retaliation, move a hand to my clit and press rough circles over it. I will cum around you in relief, rejoicing at the feel of your thickness, your cum as it spills out of my cunt, and my hands will move to your back, scratching marks at your shoulders to give you wings. 

I thought of all of this yesterday, moving my vibrator into my cunt and using my middle finger to swirl over my clit. It was empty, and it wasn’t you. Squeezing my eyes closed, I felt myself on the brink, about to cum and needing you. I thought of your face, I imagined your hands. I imagined it was your hand controlling the vibrator, and I imagined how quickly and how strongly you would have pressed it inside me. I fucked myself hard enough to hurt, pretending it was you, dripping onto my sheets and making my skin smell with the memory of your cum all over me. I wanted it so badly.

I still want it. 

I want it so much I pressed this sheet of paper against my cunt before I started writing. I am still wet for you. I soaked myself into this page, Hoseok. 

When you get this letter, press your lips against it and taste me.

When you write me, seal your envelope with your cum and package it again so I’m the only one who holds it. 

One day, I will lick you clean.

One day, you will fuck me so hard my throat will bleed screaming your name.

Until then, this is how I want you.

Do you think you can do this for me, my love?

Can I have you this way?

Yours,

Y/N

May 20, 1022

My love,

I’ve figured it out. I’ve figured out why I cannot seem to stay away from you. I have figured out why I seemed to sense you long before you came to me.

Do you remember it, my love? Our home, the cottage, that smelled of fig and bloomed with orchids? Do you remember it, my love? The butterflies in the field beyond our window? Our first life, not our last life, for we made a promise. 

Do you remember it, my love? Was it our last night on earth or was it a different day, an unimportant day? You will remember it better than I, for it was your idea. Hands clasped tightly, we placed the rings over one another’s fingers and swore a life without one was not a life at all. How I will follow you throughout time just to see you smile. How you would find me, always you starting it, always you initiating it, because you are so much stronger than I am my love, you are always so much more faithful. 

I have never been a pious man, but for you I have learned the endurance of loyalty. For you, I would give the sky. 

Do you remember it, my love? 

When I return home, I will give you this letter and wait patiently for your reply. I will find my home between your legs and ask if you remember, remember, remember. 

I do. 

I will never forget.

Yours, always,

J. H. 

[seriouslysnape]

Hello there. Can I request a lupin x reader where lupin is flirting with the reader but the reader flirts back making him flustered? Thank you for your time

Of course, love! Enjoy!

(Below the cut) :)

Flirtatious Encounters

__

Remus Lupin x Fem. Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,666

“That color really brings out your eyes.”

__

You were all the talk around Hogwarts for the last several weeks. You were the topic of all the curious chatter amongst students and professors alike. Your arrival was highly anticipated, and looked forward to. You were filling in for Professor Sprout for the next few months who was recovering from an ankle injury. She had simply tripped and sprained her ankle while working out in the greenhouse, and Pomfrey found it best for her to lay low for a few weeks.

Pomona Sprout wasn’t one to assign her duties to just anyone. She was head of the Hufflepuffs and Herbology, both of which she took very seriously. Headmaster Dumbledore had given her the liberty of choosing herself a substitute, which is why she was so keen on choosing someone who was highly competent.

Pomona had been a family friend for years, and always adored the way you were so passionate for Herbology. She had thoroughly enjoyed your time at Hogwarts, and would even admit she shed many tears after your graduation. It was a no brainer to ask you to take over her job for a while. Within a week, you were prepared and ready to go.  Pomona had told you what to expect while you were there.

You had been quite the star in your years at Hogwarts, you had definitely made a name for yourself and were still talked about to this day.

So she told you that the current students would be stoked to see you in person and ask you questions about your glory days at Hogwarts. She told you to feel free to use any of the professor amenities and take advantage of your time there. For all you knew, you might be offered a job by the end of it. You were a little nervous at first, but after the first day, you knew it was going to be a blast.

Students of all ages and Houses crowded you the moment you entered the castle, throwing out questions and praises all over the place. You tried your hardest to answer each of them as best you could, happily overwhelmed at their excitement. Dumbledore shooed them away, assuring them that’d they’d have plenty of time to ask their burning questions.

Dinnertime was probably your favorite time of your first day. It felt so strange to sit at the professor’s table that you had looked at for so many years. It felt even weirder to be sitting with professors that were now your peers rather than authority figures. You remembered each of them vividly and their classes.

You remembered Charms with Flitwick and the first time you learned a spell. You recalled Potions with Snape and how you never dared to break eye contact when he was speaking. You laughed at the memory of Transfiguration with McGonagall and how you accidentally turned your best friend into a slug one time. You had many fond memories of all the professors at the table.

All except for one.

There was one unfamiliar face that you couldn’t seem to identify. He had reddish-brown hair, a few scars on his face, as well as light facial hair. He looked fairly young in comparison to the other Hogwarts’ instructors, and based on the way Professor Snape had glared at him when he walked in, you were sure he was a Gryffindor. He was seated to your immediate right, and had offered you a kind smile when you arrived.

“You must be [Y/N].” Lupin said, extending his hand.

You took his hand to shake it, smiling back at him.

“I am. However, I’m afraid I don’t know you.” You said, thinking you had never seen him before.

He brushed it off with a light laugh. He wasn’t surprised that you didn’t remember him.

“I wasn’t a professor during your time here,” He replied with a certain glow on his cheeks; “Remus Lupin.” He introduced.

You felt relief. That would’ve been embarrassing if you had forgotten a professor. It hadn’t been THAT long since you had been through Hogwarts. Despite the fact that he didn’t look familiar, the name rang a bell.

“Lupin...oh!” You said, suddenly remembering how you knew him; “You graduated two years ahead of me. You were friends with James Potter and Sirius Black! There was a third one with you guys too..Peter something.”

Remus snorted at that. Peter was always the odd man out.

“Pettigrew.” Remus corrected.

You sighed in realization.

“Right. I suppose it’s been longer since I’ve been here than I thought.” You said, feeling a little embarrassed that you didn’t automatically recognize him; “Are you teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

He nodded.

Everyone knew Potter, Lupin, Pettigrew, and Black during their time here. It was a shame what had happened to James Potter and his wife. You had spotted their son earlier that day. Harry was exactly what you expected through stories you had heard.

He was a spitting image of James and he had Lily’s eyes.

You wondered what Pettigrew and Black were up to these days, but Remus moved on before you could ask.

“Our paths never quite crossed. It’s a shame. I would’ve loved to have known you better back then.” He said, taking his goblet into his hand.

You felt a heat creep over your cheeks. It was true. You were your own version of popular and you were always so busy that you never quite had the opportunity to hang out with Remus and his friends. You always had a feeling that you’d fit in well though.

One thing was for sure, Remus was still just as handsome as he was then.

“Well, consider this making up for lost time.” You responded, reaching for your own cup.

He raised a brow with an amused grin. He spoke clearly before clinking his cup against yours.

“For lost time.”

After that, a friendship began to blossom between you and Remus Lupin. You would visit him in his office after classes or stop to chat when you passed in the halls. He quickly realized why you were just so popular when you were a student there.

You were such a joy to talk to.

“Good morning, [Y/N].” Remus said, entering Professor Sprout’s (which for the time being was yours) office.

You looked up from your course schedule, smiling as he entered.

“Hi, Remus. Here so early?” You glanced at the clock, noting that it wasn’t even 8:00 AM yet.

“I’ve always been an early riser.” He stated. He motioned towards the seat in front of the desk; “May I?”

“Of course, of course.” You granted.

He took a seat and you set your class planning aside for now. You’d much rather speak with him.

“How are your classes going this week?” You queried.

Remus grinned at that.

“As well as they could I guess,” He said; “The kids are still ecstatic about your presence here. It’s hard to get them to focus on much else.”

You sheepishly laughed. You didn’t mind, but you had been bombarded with students over the last few weeks.

“I didn’t know I had made such a lasting impact.” You admitted.

He agreed that you definitely had. You were strikingly beautiful, he could barely keep his gaze off of you. Even if you hadn’t been close during your time at Hogwarts, he had always had a bit of a crush on you. Now you were here and he still found himself giddy with glee that he was talking to you.

It was so strange how life often came full circle.

“That color really brings out your eyes.” He complimented.

You looked down at the sweater you were wearing. You had thought nothing of it when you had gotten dressed earlier.

“Does it?”

“Mmhm. Positively stunning.” He graced.

You felt yet another burn in your face. Had he always been this charming?

“Thank you, Remus. I appreciate it.” You smiled bashfully.

He looked around Sprout’s office. There were plants of all kinds on every wall, which wasn’t surprising in the least.

“So, tell me. How did such a gorgeous woman end up teaching at Hogwarts?” He wondered.

You cocked your head to the side at his confidence and how smoothly he had said it. You thought for a second. Was he flirting with you? Remus Lupin, one of the Gryffindor House’s most infamous members, hitting on you? You were flattered, but two could play at that game.

“I could ask you the same. I was surprised that The Marauders’ very own boy toy ended up here again.” You returned with a sly smirk.

Remus’ face went bright red. His heartbeat quickened and he found himself nervous. He didn’t expect you to come back like that.

“I, uh...well, not me certainly. Sirius was always much more...flirtatious than I am.” He said fiddling with his hands.

You raised a brow, knowingness clear in your expression.

“Is that so? That’s odd. I always thought you were the best looking of the four.” You said rather seductively.

Remus let out a bashful laugh. His face was so hot now that he was sure he was sweating.

“Ah, well, you’re very kind. I-I’m not so sure. Harry always- I mean, James always drew much more attention than Peter and me.” He confessed.

“Really? That’s surprising.” You added.

Remus paused and let out more of a giggle now, like an awkward teen trying to ask his admirers to the Yule Ball. He stood from his chair.

“You’re lovely- ah, it’s been lovely talking to you, [Y/N], as always,” He said going to leave; “I hope to see you at dinner later.”

“Yes, I’ll see you.” You said, holding back a round of laughter.

Remus basically ran out, humiliated, yet entertained at how he choked. He didn’t expect you to be so forward. But he knew he liked it. As much as he adored Professor Sprout;

He hoped she wasn’t coming back anytime soon

[2jaehs]

ETHICS  l  QIAN KUN

genre: smut, daddy!

warning: Dilf!Kun, profressor!Kun, Student!Reader, semi-public, semi-cheating, cursing, alcohol

word count: 5,6k

Your new ethics professor may not be as good as the subject he is teaching.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a chilly evening and your parents were hosting a couple of friends from work for dinner. Your mother, a professor at your university, was always ready to break in a new lecturer especially if it meant it would benefit you in any way.

The professor who was invited was soon to be your new ethics lecturer for the second semester,  all you knew of him was that he too had a kid at the university and your mother was hoping you’d get along with them.

“Did you find out who’s Mr Qian’s kid yet?” Your mother sipped her tea as she hovered over your desk, scrunching her nose at your Facebook page.

“No mom, you know people my age don’t use Facebook” you groaned and clicked the university page to find the tagged alumni. After a few clicks you noticed the new lecturer had been added and with another click you were on his Facebook page.

“God he is handsome isn’t he ?” Your mom marveled and you shook your head, “you have a husband you know” Your mom let out a laugh and playfully slapped you on your shoulder, “I’m not like that, plus the man teaches ethics he’d be horrified if I was trying anything.”

You shrugged and scanned the professors page until you noticed a post with a familiar looking boy. The two of them stood next to a brand new car and the caption read ‘congrats on the new wheels son.’

“This is.....Minghao, he’s a year below me” you pressed your lips together and looked up at your mother, “he’s pretty chilled I’m sure it will go fine.”

Your mother let out a sigh of relief and patted your back, “okay good so you’ll be able to keep him company tonight then, Hey maybe Mr Qian will give you special treatment after tonight.”

You wished your mom knew how accurate her guess was in the weeks to come.

————————————————————————

You slipped into a comfortable long floral dress and did a light make up look before creeping out of your bedroom to greet your mother’s guests.

“Ah there’s my princess” your dad bellowed to the guests who looked up at you as you made your way downstairs, already wishing you could hide away from your dad’s embarrassing words.

“Hi I’m y/n” you greeted, shaking everyone’s hands. There was a woman in her late 40s and Minghao the boy you had seen around your department from time to time.

“My dads just getting the wine from our cab” Minghao scratched the back of his head nervously as he took a seat across from his mother at the dinner table.

You slipped into the seat next to him, your mother mouthing a thank you for your bare minimum efforts and placed the last cooked dish on the table in front of you.

“I almost thought you were drinking all of that on your own” your dad chuckled as a man shimmied through the door holding two bottles of wine. You felt your heartbeat race when he came into full view, possibly the most handsome man you had ever laid your eyes on. Mr Qian had a wide friendly smile spread across his face as he sat the wine down on the kitchen counter and removed his coat, revealing his extremely toned arms stretching the fabric of his white buttoned shirt.

“Oh you must be y/n” he ran his fingers through his hair and took a seat at the head of the table, in between you and his wife.

“Eh yeah it’s nice to meet you Mr Qian” you smiled politely, trying to keep your eyes off his pouty lips.

You couldn’t believe you were checking out your lecturer right now, in the presence of his wife and son for fucksakes. But he was so unbelievably gorgeous, the way his ash blonde hair was styled framed his face perfectly, and his soft eyes bore into yours as he spoke.

“Please call me Kun” he chuckled sweetly, “unless I’m teaching you then we can switch back to the formalities.”

You nodded and he shot you another friendly smile before your dad began pouring everyone a glass of wine.

You and Minghao zoned out as your mother began talking about the university and let Kun know the basics, from campus etiquette to where he can buy the best coffee.

“Well I’m looking forward to everything” Kun raised his glass to your mother and downed the last bit of it.

“Y/n darling sort the dishes out will you ? We’re going to head to the patio for more drinks” your mother called. All you wanted to do was return to your room, but after letting out a groan you did as you were told.

You scrubbed the dishes as you noticed Minghao was entertaining himself with a game on his phone in the living room. He wasn’t much of a talker and you were grateful for that, you really weren’t in the mood to be sociable with a stranger.

“Sorry to disturb but where is the wine opener ?”

You jumped at the sudden voice and the next thing you knew the leftover suds from your gloves were on Kun’s shirt.

“Shit- I mean sorry I’m sorry” you tore off your gloves and grabbed a paper towel ready to clean up your mess.

“It’s okay y/n” he chuckled and took hold of your wrist as you looked up at him, “it’s just a little water.”

Kun smiled down at you sweetly but you noticed a hint of curiosity in his eyes as you stood still under his touch, not bothered to move under the sudden contact.

“A-are you sure it’s okay?” You asked in a small voice still looking up at him and unconsciously bit down on your lip as your eyes drifted to his plump ones for the 4th time that night.

Kun cocked his head to the side, slowly let go of your wrist, and  wet his bottom lip with his tongue before taking a step back,

“Can I have that wine opener y/n ?” He asked in a low tone.

“Oh right” you pulled open a drawer and retrieved the item, handing it to Kun who grazed his fingers against yours as he received it.

“Thank you.”

————————————————————————

You were in your bedroom reliving that moment over and over again. You were not delusional right ? There definitely was a little tension between you and Mr Qian and you had no idea why.

Did he sense that you were attracted to him ? He probably thought you were awful for even making it known to him since he was married. He taught ethics for heaven's sake, he probably thought you were a horrible person.

Sighing, you turned on your stomach and listened to the voices coming from the patio downstairs. You heard your dad pretty clearly, he was loud but when drunk even louder.

“Y/n is a good student but her mind wanders a lot”

“It’s true, she’s just like her dad”

“Hey!”

You groaned at the sound of your parents yapping and hearing Kun and his wife laugh along only made things worse. How the hell were you going to get through a whole semester of ethics with Mr Qian when he’s already met your insane family ?

A few minutes had passed and you heard a knock on your door. Before you could respond your mother flung open your door and you noticed Mr Qian was lingering right behind her.

Great.

“Sweetheart do you mind giving Kun your notes and essays from last semester” she hiccuped as Kun chuckled softly at her antics.

“Mom I -“

“It’s okay” Kun raised his hands, “you can bring it to me on Monday”

“Nonsense you’re here right now” you mom silenced him, “oh I’ll also fetch the old schedule just so you have an idea of what it all looks like.”

Your mom disappeared down the hall to her study and you expected Mr Qian to follow her but instead he leaned against your doorframe and watched you.

“I didn’t save much...so”

“I thought you were a good student y/n” Kun teased, his dimple showing as he grinned.

You rummaged through your drawers, “I am a good student” you pulled out your old ethics file and got to your feet,

“Not all the time though.”

Kun raised his eyebrow at your words and received the file from you before checking the hallway for your tipsy mother.

“Oh I’ve noticed” he said lowly, his eyes looked around your bedroom then met your stare, “I just hope you will pay attention in my class Miss y/l/n”

“I’ll try my best sir” you responded, chewing on your bottom lip before your mother reappeared and dragged Kun back downstairs.

Kun turned back to get one last look at you. He was taken back that you were still staring at him, those barely innocent eyes enticed him and the way your lips were caught between your teeth made him-

“My daughter is ecstatic for the new semester. Please look after her,” your mother said, handing the last of her notes to Kun.

Kun nodded and thanked her before collecting his family and headed to their cab outside. He pondered on her words and looked over at his wife, “sweet family aren’t they ?”

————————————————————————

It was another chilly winter morning and you were making your way over to your 8am ethics lecture with your best friend Xiaojun. “Dami said the new ethics lecturer is hot as hell” Xiaojun sipped his coffee as you two turned into the corridor, avoiding the lingering students,

“He came to my house over the weekend, he's pretty handsome yeah” you said, feeling butterflies in your stomach just talking about him. Xiaojun was about to speak until the two of you heard a low voice from behind you,

“Good morning you two” Mr Qian greeted with a cheeky smile and slipped into the classroom with his briefcase and coffee.

“Shit do you think he heard me ? shit shit shit” you cursed under your breath as Xiaojun pulled you into the front row of seats. The classroom began filling up and almost every person who walked in did a double take at Kun, it could've been his newness or the fact that he was now the best looking professor in this department.

“Why are we sitting upfront ? this feels weird” you whispered to Xiaojun.

“I want him to think that we pay attention” Xiaojun nudged you as the two of you watched Mr Qian remove his blazer and fold up his dress shirt sleeves. Your breathing hitched as you monitored his veiny arms while he navigated his laptop, thinking back to when he had his hand around your wrist and looked down at you with his almond eyes.

“Hello everyone, I'm Professor Qian, you can refer to me as Mr Qian or...sir” his eyes dropped to you on the last word as if it were reserved just for you.

You couldn't concentrate at all on the lecture and it wasn't due to Xiaojun talking his head off. Every movement Kun made had you adjusting your seating position and every glance had you adjusting your hair or wetting your lips. Every damn second you had to remind yourself that he was married and you were his student, an ethics student. But you couldn't help but wonder if what you were feeling was being reciprocated. You concluded that he was either oblivious and naturally charming or he was toying with you. Either way you looked at it, you knew you were like putty in his hands.

“I hope everyone has a good day and don't forget tomorrow I’ll be doing a short quiz in order to check your process” Mr Qian smiled sweetly and took a seat at his desk, waving off the first student's to leave his room.

You gathered your books and began making your way out when Mr Qian cleared his throat, “y/n can I see you for a bit?” Xiaojun nudged you and winked which only made your face redder than it already was. Spinning on your heels you pressed your lips together and made your way over to his desk.

“Y-yes Mr Qian ?”

“Please take a seat” He smiled and waited until the last person exited the room and shut the door. You returned to your original seat and a nervous feeling overcame you when you realized you were now alone with him.

“I just wanted to return some of the notes you gave me” He began pacing in front of you with his hands stuffed into his pocket, “and I just wanted to check if you were paying attention today”

“I did, I mean I usually go over the slides again later” you bit down on your lip. The chirpy tone of your voice made you cringe, why did you want him to think so highly of you ? that you were a good girl, not slacking off.

Kun nodded and pressed his lips together before retrieving your notes from his desk and handed it to you. You swallowed hard when he leaned over you, his large hands pressing into the desk and a strand of his blonde hair fell out of place and curled over his eyebrow.

“It’s not because you think i'm handsome that you're so distracted now are you?”

A shiver went down your spine at the sound of his silky voice matching his daring eyes as if he was waiting for you to act on it. You looked up at him, he could see his reflection in your doe-like eyes and it made him unconsciously lick his lips.

“I uhm….I'm sorry” you battered your eyelashes at him, hoping he would keep this information to himself and not out your words to your mother.

“Im sorry...who?” his voice was stern. Something dark had overcome him and it excited you.

“Im sorry...sir”

You watched his eyes light up by your words and it was enough indication that you weren't being delusional about him. Kun took a step back and returned to his desk signaling the end of your conversation. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip and grabbed your notes heading straight for the door.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

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Most of the next three weeks Kun was pretty normal. He treated you just like every other student in the room and it made you feel a tad jealous. You waited for his glances or him asking you to stay after class but he completely ignored you. Maybe he came to his senses and felt guilty flirting with a student when he was married. That was until Friday came around and you were sitting in your mom’s office.

“One sign of pleasant weather actually got you wearing a skirt ?” Your mother teased as she bit into her salad.

“I've never worn it before and I think it looks cute” you pouted looking down at your beige and chocolate brown checkered mini skirt.

“You do look cute sweetheart and you'd look even cuter organizing my store room”

You groaned at your mothers request but jumped to your feet knowing you didn't have anything else to do. It sucked that the weather was actually perfect for an outfit to tease Mr Qian in but his lecture had been cancelled for the day. You opened the store room only to be greeted by dust and darkness, not surprised that the state of the shelves were a mess in a few short weeks since you last cleaned them.

Grabbing a flashlight you got started on the lower shelves when you heard a knock on your mom’s door and Kun walked in holding a box of folders.

“You're done already ?” Your mom said, mouth filled with her chicken wrap as Kun placed the box on her desk,

“Yes I scanned them onto my usb, It’s easier catching up that way” he replied politely,

“Okay well I’ll tell y/n to put these away, I'm still trying to finish these reports and my lunch”

Kun tutted at your mother’s words and began unpacking the box, carrying the folders over to the storeroom, “I'm not doing anything right now and we cant let y/n do everything on her own now can we?”

Your eyes widened as he joined you in the dark storeroom, his figure completely hidden from your mother as she continued snacking on her wrap and eyes engrossed in her computer,

“Kun you're too kind, okay you two have fun.”

You held your breath as you felt his arm brush against your back as he worked on the shelf behind you. His perfume was sweet, the scent tickled your nose while he moved around the compact room.

“Where’s section R 20-30 ?” Kun asked you softly, squinting as the flashlight you held caught his eye.

“Oh sorry uhm it's down here you can give it to me-”

“It's okay I got it” Kun mused and crouched down next to your bare legs trying to find the placement of the file in hand. You kept your focus on the shelf in front you, freezing when you felt the tips of his hair brush against your knee. Kun slid the file in its place and allowed his fingers to dance along your legs as he stood up, scanning your face for a reaction. When you gathered yourself you turned back to placing files in their respectful spots earning a scoff from Kun. He cocked his head to the side, amused by your composure. He touched you a few feet away from your mother and you didn't budge, he was impressed.

You thought his teasing was over until Kun stood beside you, shielded in the dark and you felt his warm breath against your neck. You froze when you felt his fingers on your inner thigh, slowly moving up until he pinched and you squealed, bumping into the shelf.

“Darling are you okay ?” Your mom called from her desk.

“Answer her y/n” Kun whispered before placing an open mouth kiss on your neck.

You cleared your throat and prayed your voice wouldn't crack, “Im okay just tripped over something, the usual” You heard your mother chuckle, thanking the heavens that she was so oblivious to what was going on in her store room right now.

You felt Kun smile against your neck and his fingers returned to your inner thigh, moving up until he grazed against your lace panties. Kun hummed when he felt how wet you were for him, you couldn't believe how wet you were for your professor at this moment. Kun skillfully moved your underwear to the side and felt your wetness before bringing his finger up to your mouth.

His lips curled into a smile waiting to see how dirty you were. All of this seemed like a test to you, as if he wanted to see how much you could endure before he had his way with you. The way he looked at you made you want him right then and there. Guys your age couldn't handle a girl like this as much as they tried to convince themselves. Your sex life was boring, all of them were the same but this, this was exhilarating.

Kun’s mouth parted as he watched your pouted lips meet his finger and lick his finger clean. The way he looked at you made you feel proud, he made you feel like you aced your assignment.

“Dammit I have a last minute meeting, sorry sweety I can't drive you home today should I call a cab ?” your mother sighed as you and Kun innocently stepped out of the store room.

“I don't mind giving her a ride home,” Kun offered, his attention fully on your mother despite feeling your glance on him.

“Kun you are a lifesaver seriously, how do I repay you ?” Your mom grabbed her satchel from her desk and made her way to the door.

“How about dinner? Jia and I really enjoyed your hosting” Kun offered, helping your mom lock up. You felt weird when he mentioned his wife’s name, hating that you were jealous of the woman who actually got to call him hers. It also made you feel as if you were just a play thing for him, and that none of this would affect him but rather you.

You were lost in your own thoughts until you realized your mother had already agreed to his offer and you were now standing alone in the corridor with Kun.

“Shall we ?” Kun gestured for you to lead the way and the two of you walked in silence until you got to his car.

The first ten minutes were silent, all that could be heard was the faint voices on the radio and the tyres of the vehicle moving against the gravel road. Kun smiled to himself as he watched you pull out your phone to distract yourself from the uncomfortable silence.

“y/n do you have a boyfriend ?” He asked a little too casually for your liking.

“No I don't”

“Why is that?”  His question made you look up at him, confused as to why he would ask you a question like this after he had already explored most of you just a couple minutes ago.

“Not interested in what this campus has to offer” you shrugged and looked out of the window, “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Does your wife know you have a professor student kink?”

Kun clenched his jaw at your words and suddenly pulled into a vacant parking lot of a fast food joint. Before you could say another word Kun wrapped his hand around your throat and pulled you in for a rough kiss. It was absolutely tantalizing, the way he tasted, the way his tongue fought with yours but it ended abruptly.

“You're a brat you know that ?” he chuckled dryly, “Jia and I are soon to be divorced, we only do work social activities because It makes a good impression.”

You felt a sense of relief and excitement. Even though it was a pretty fucked up arrangement going on currently, it lifts a burden off your shoulder knowing they will no longer be married.

“Why...me?” you bit down on your lip and looked up at him. Kun softened up and slumped into his seat, running his fingers through his ash blonde hair, “I don't know, the shallow answer is that I find you incredibly attractive”

“What's the other answer ?”

“Look,” Kun turned to face you, “We hardly know each other but I feel an instant connection to you, I tested your morality, which is fucked up, to see if you were like me, someone like me preaching ethics yet borderline fucked up?”

You could tell there was more to it, a personal war with himself especially since he was about to get divorced. Of Course you wished there was more to it but he was probably not ready to get involved with someone especially after years of marriage to then hook up with one of his students at that.

“Mr Qian everyone is fucked up I mean that's why we have to study ethics isn't it ?” you reached out to console him, rubbing his shoulder as he chuckled at your words. Kun leaned in and gave you a soft kiss on your lips,

“How did I come across someone like you y/n..”

“All im saying is I’ll be happy to be your rebound, your play thing whatever you need….Sir”

Kun shifted in his seat as he watched you lift his hand, making him palm your face as you took his thumb into your mouth and sucked on him gently. You heard his muffled curses as he adjusted his pants, trying his best to keep a tent from forming as he felt your tongue swirl around his thumb.

Kun quickly snapped out of the trance you had him in and restarted the car, getting back on the route to your house. You snickered to yourself as you noticed how red his ears were from the ordeal, it was nice being the dominant one for once.

He pulled up to your house and unlocked the car door for you, “I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow, wear a dress for me okay sweetheart ?”

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It was saturday evening and being an obedient student you wore one of your most...accessible dresses. You made it look classy despite the length barely sitting above your knee and topped it off with a glossy makeup finish. Your mom had told you that Minghao wasn't attending tonight and you might get bored from their conversations, little did she know that this might be one thrilling night.

You helped your mom set up the table while your dad organized the drinks and played soft music in the background to set the ambience. Just as you finished the last utensil arrangement you heard the doorbell ring and the butterflies in your stomach had returned.

“Kun good to have you back man” your dad went in for a handshake as Kun and his wife stepped in. Kun was good at playing the innocent professor. The way he greeted you with such poise as if his hand wasn't up your skirt 24 hours ago.

“Let's not get too drunk now shall we, we're driving home this time” Jia tutted as she handed your mom a bottle of wine.

Suddenly the room was filled with a bright light followed by thunder, making you and your mom jump at the loud noise. “Seems like you're not driving home at all buddy” your dad said peering outside as the harsh rain began pouring down, already starting to flood the driveway.

“He’s right, you guys can stay in our spare bedroom for tonight,” your mom added. You and Kun both shared a quick glance before your dad pulled him into another conversation.

“Honey can you make sure the room is set up ?” your mother turned to you and you nodded, smiling politely as Jia thanked you.

By the time you were done with the bedroom you were welcomed by everyone already seated at the dinner table waiting for you. Unsure if it was planned by Kun but your seat was placed right next to him, with Jia at the head of the table conversing with your mom on her opposite end.

Kun poured you a glass of wine and you silently thanked him as your dad continued his intense conversation about whatever he watched on the news network this week. You sighed poking at your potatoes, being bored as your mom predicted you would be until you felt a hand on your thigh.

Keeping your eye focused on your dinner you scooted a little closer to Kun until his hand was able to fully grope your thigh without anyone at the table noticing a thing. You felt the icy cold sensation from his ring as he caressed your skin, not doing anything too drastic since everyone was in close proximity. You inwardly groaned when he eventually pulled his hand away, completely engrossed in the conversation happening between your mom and Jia. As Kun added his piece to the conversation you used the opportunity to  do a bit of your own exploring and let your hand slip into his lap.

Kun pressed his lips together as he tried to focus on the chat instead of the hand that was now palming him under the table. You took a sip of your wine as you continued rubbing him through his black trousers, already feeling him get extremely hard under your touch. Until it was getting too much for him to handle, Kun pushed your hand away and excused himself from the table,

“I'm gonna use the bathroom, please excuse me”

“y/n why don't you show Mr Qian where the bathroom is” Your mom said, still chatting along with Jia and your dad.

You sighed and played the good daughter, leading Kun upstairs until the two of you were out of sight. With one swift movement Kun had you against the wall in the hallway, his hand wrapped around your throat and his erection pressed against your abdomen.

“Are you fucking insane ? you want me to fuck you in front of your parents is that it ?” he growled,

“Oh so you can have fun but I can't ?” you rolled your eyes only causing Kun to press into you harder.

“God you're so bratty, I can't wait to teach you a lesson” Kun bit into your neck, sucking until he was satisfied with its purple colour, “I'm going to go downstairs and telling your parents that you went to your bedroom, keep that dress on until I visit your room later tonight understand ?”

“Yes sir.”

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You waited in your room, doing as you were told and even heard your parents, Kun and Jia head upstairs and say their drunken goodnights. The sound of Kun’s voice just outside your door made you squirm in bed, wanting, waiting for him to just show up and have his way with you.

It was around 2am, your eyes were heavy and you sighed as you looked at the time on your desk clock. What were you thinking ? There was no way Kun could pull this off without his wife suspecting him or even your parents hearing someone sneaking around the house. But then again everyone was so damn drunk a criminal could break in and they'd have no idea.

Suddenly your door creaked open and in the darkness you saw a figure creep in, locking the door behind them. You sat up in bed and Kun quickly rushed over, placing a hand over your mouth and brought his lips to your ear,

“You have to be real quiet baby, even with all this rain and thunder, we have to be careful”

You nodded at his words and Kun placed a kiss on your forehead before pulling the covers off your body and switched on your bedside lamp in order to look at your body. He traced his fingers along your legs, over your abdomen and between your breasts until his thumb grazed your lips, parting them slightly.

Taking the hint you sat up and positioned yourself in front of Kun as he began unbuckling his trousers and let them pool around his ankles. You looked up at him as you palmed him through his boxers, watching him throw his head back sighing from the sensation. You pulled down his boxers and licked your lips once getting a full view of his erection, wasting no time in taking him fully into your mouth until he touched the back of your throat.

“Fuck” Kun mumbled softly as you began sucking him off, slowly in order to lessen the noise and to keep him fairly quiet.

Kun tugged on your hair and bit down on his lip watching your saliva drop from your mouth as he pulled out of you. You looked absolutely delicious, all he wanted to do was ruin you.

You stood up facing him until he began kissing you softly, unzipping your dress revealing your white lacy set and giving him his first taste of your naked figure. “You're beautiful” he cooed as he left soft pecks across your neck, especially on the spot where he had marked you earlier on.

Kun removed his shirt and unhooked your bra before pressing your back into your bed and his hips began grinding into yours, slowly, making you feel every part of him as the two of you returned to each other's lips.

“You're such a bad girl you know that” Kun groaned as he slipped his hand into your underwear and rubbed circles with his thumb, making you squirm underneath him.

“Teach me a lesson daddy” you sighed and the nickname made Kun growl into your ear. Kun pulled off your underwear and turned you until you were on all fours. He positioned himself behind you and as he pushed in he clasped down on your mouth and bit down on your shoulder, preventing both of you from moaning too loudly.

Kun’s hips slammed into yours erratically, switching from fast to slow strokes in order to drown out any suspecting sounds.

“I want to ride you daddy” you managed to whisper through his fingers and again Kun caved to the nickname and pulled out, falling onto his back as he awaited your offer. You slowly straddled him and took in his length once more, as Kun sat up, meeting your thrusts and held onto your ass and throat as you rode him as best as you could. Kun felt you tighten around him as you neared your climax and flipped you around until you were underneath him and he was now in control of both of your orgasms.

“Im so close..” you whined as Kun hit your sweet spot repeatedly.

“Me too baby, lets keep it quiet okay I promise I’ll make it up to you soon”

Kun brought you to your climax and he followed quickly after, his sweaty body falling on top of you as he tried to catch his breath. You reached for the covers and Kun turned onto his back and allowed you to cuddle into his chest. You smiled as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead and stroked your head,

“Thank you, God I want more, I can't wait for more” he whispered as you giggled,

“I’ll be here, and besides you're going to help me pass ethics right ? “ you pouted. Kun chuckled softly and massaged his temples, “okay how about you study hard and i’ll reward you with whatever you want sweetheart,”

“Deal” you gleamed, “Thank you sir.”

[songmingisthighs]

[15.08] badboy!seonghwa × reader

⇀ had you known that's why he confessed, would you have accepted him ? Or smack his annoyingly perfect face with your laptop ?

⇁ part 1 / 2

⇁ prologue part 1 / 2 / 3

Things had gone great between you and Seonghwa. You and he would often meet at your dorm or at the diner at least three times a week.

You'd ask him why you both never hung at his dorm but his answer was that he doesn't want the boys to disturb your 'quality time'.

Normally you'd question answers like that, but the way he looks at you and holds your hand made you forget why you even wanna ask that in the first place.

But like all things, everything dissipates with time.

Nearing the end of the semester, group projects lessen and solo assignments accumulate which put a strain between your and Seonghwa's hangout time. You've tried convincing him that you both can hang out whilst doing your solo assignments but you remembered how his eyes trailed after a girl as you spoke at one of your last hangouts at the diner.

Seems like he's lost interest in you too.

Which, it sure hurts, but you both were never official and neither had verbally confirmed to the other about their feelings. It sucks.

But you power through.

You pretend that his silence during class's group discussion didn't affect you, you pretend that when he immediately pack up his stuff to leave the class and only throwing you a polite smile didn't make your heart wrench, you pretend that him ghosting you didn't make you feel both embarrassed and angry at the same time.

You're light and breezy.

Heck, you're so light and breezy, you still go to that diner every Friday all alone. And it's not because you had hoped to see one particular man.

Even though you did.

When he was on a date with some girl who's obviously very pretty.

On the booth you both had 'claimed' as 'your booth' without ever verbally saying it.

"Hi, excuse me," a voice broke your train of thoughts.

You look up from your book to see a really handsome man standing in front of you with a smile on his face. He looks very handsome, definitely mixed-race, and he has this chill aura on him that is honestly refreshing to you.

"Sorry to bother you, but can I sit here?" He asked. You look around to see that there are a lot of other places left in the library where he could've sat.

Sensing your apprehension, the man raised both of his hands, "I'm not a creep or a weirdo, I'm just very particular about where I work,"

He's got a point. So you just nodded, "sure, it's not my table or anything anyways, you could've just taken a seat without asking my permission," he shrugged as he put his things across you, "I mean sure, but you seemed like you don't wanna be bothered and this particular spot has the best walking distance to anywhere at all and plus the secret charging port? Genius," he said, grinning proudly.

You raised your eyebrows at him, "you seem to know your way around the table, mister..." you trailed off to which he immediately caught on, "Hansol, Choi Hansol, but my friends calls me Vernon," he held his hand out for you to shake, "(Y/N), (Y/N) (Y/L/N), and why Vernon?" "My english name, I'm half American,"

And with that, you got yourself a new friend.

Vernon is a computer science major, and the other thing major about him is his nerdiness. And his hotness. Which is a ridiculous combination.

Ever since that day in the library, you both somehow find the other popping up everywhere. Just a day after your first meeting in the library, he came into the café you part-timed at. He came in to order 13 drinks and several pastries, shocking you at first but then he told you he lives in a frat house with 12 other guys and that he's not a caffeine addict.

Then you both bonded over the many sessions in the library which eventually venture out to sitting together during lunch, and then suddenly you both started meeting outside campus.

And this did not go unnoticed by Seonghwa.

"Hey, Seonghwa, how well do you know (Y/N)?" Hongjoong asked, breaking Seonghwa's glare on you and Vernon from all the way across the cafeteria.

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow at him, "(Y/N) from my statistics class?" As if he hadn't considered you as something more at some point, "I'd say well enough as a groupmate, why?" He asked back.

Hongjoong nodded towards you and Vernon with his chin, "Vernon there saw you both working together and he wants to make sure he won't be stepping on anyone's toes when he's making a move on her,"

At that moment, Seonghwa almost choked on his fries. Too surprised with the fact that you've possibly moved on from him so quickly.

It's only been a month and a half since you both stopped hanging out outside of obligation.

Hearing that made his blood boil and he's pretty sure it's not jealousy. Most likely territorialism. HE took interest in you first waaaaay before Vernon did.

The smile and laugh you give Vernon was supposed to be for him. He used to make you laugh so hard at any stupid pun he concocted in his head. No matter how stupid it is nor how much it doesn't make any sense.

To be completely honest, he didn't know why he pulled away from you in the first place. He had been so comfortable with you, never once had he ever let his guard down and just be carefree, not even with his closest friends.

He needs to get you back to him.

No matter what.

So he made his move the next time you both had statistics again.

Unlucky for him though, the professor decided to not have any group discussion that day which threw Seonghwa's plan out the window. But thankfully he still remembered your schedule, you don't have any class after statistics which means you'd be grabbing a simple lunch before your part-time job starts until 8 pm.

So he waited patiently for the bell to ring.

Legs bouncing in anticipation as his eyes flit towards the clock every five minutes.

When the professor finally dismissed the class (10 minutes later than he's supposed to, as per usual), he immediately put all his belongings back in his bag and ran after you. Somehow you've mastered the art of cleaning up quickly over the month and a half without him.

"(Y/N)! Wait!" Seonghwa called.

You stopped in your tracks and turn your head to see Seonghwa jogging towards you with that stupid, charming smile on his face.

Damn his good looks.

"Yeah? Is there something wrong?" you asked him when he caught up to you. He raised an eyebrow at you, confused as to why you'd think there'd be anything wrong.

"Ah!" you suddenly exclaimed, "Is this about my part of the presentation? Don't worry, I'm close to finishing it, I should be able to compile it in the PPT tonight by... 9.30-ish? I have to finish my shift at the café," you explained.

He chuckled at you, deep voice that you oh so missed ringing in your ears, "wha- no, (Y/N), I'm not here to talk about our project, I just wanna... talk with you," he said, tilting his head to the side slightly. It somehow made him look both hot and cute at the same time. Which doesn't make sense.

Now it was your turn to raise an eyebrow at him while crossing your arms, "why? No offence, Seonghwa, but you've kinda been blowing me off for the past month and a half now, what makes you think I'd have anything to talk with you about?"

Those words coming out of your mouth shocked him. It's not like he didn't expect some apprehension from you, but hostility? Boy, you must've been really affected by his shitty doings.

"I-I- no, (Y/N), I haven't been blowing you off," bullshit, even he knows that, "I've just been really-" "really... what? Absent? Ghosty? Hot and cold? Whatever it is, Seonghwa, you don't owe me any explanation," you tried your best to not roll your eyes at him because honestly, how dare he blew you off and now acting like he didn't whilst hoping you don't notice what he has been doing.

What did he take you for? One of his brainless bimbos?

Surprised at your words, Seonghwa was left stunned. You waited for a solid 10 seconds for him to say something. Anything.

Literally, how hard is it to say sorry?

Realizing he wouldn't realize what he's supposed to do, you just shook your head at him, "I'll finish inputting and editing my part by tonight, I'll see you in class next week, Seonghwa," you said before walking away.

You would've thought that he'd take the hint and go back to ignoring you.

But now, of course not. He's stubborn and he plays by his own rules. It's an understatement to say that you were shocked when you saw him entering the café nearing the end of your shift.

Despite the shock of seeing him, you pretended like nothing's wrong and do what you're supposed to do to any other customer as per usual.

Heck, you'd give yourself a pat on the back, head, and butt for being so calm whilst handling Seonghwa. You managed to keep that "strictly professional" smile on your face as you take his orders, you didn't fumble when he made small talks as you typed in his orders into the computer (like really, who the heck said "good thing tonight's not cloudly, love the moonlight," ??), and you didn't flinch when your hands accidently touch as you hand him his strawberry frappucino.

Yes, the badboy strictly and secretly drink sweet, fruity drinks.

You'd thought that his presence was merely a coincidence. As he waited in his table, you had assumed that he's waiting for some girl (who isn't you, sadly) so all you wanna do is run out of there as soon as you can.

"Hey, Jaemin," you called your co-worker who's in the middle of sipping his 6 shot americano at 8 pm, "I'm gonna head out, okay? Think you can hold the fort until Yena's here? She said she has to turn in an assignment, that's why she's late,"

Jaemin just rolled his eyes at you, "(Y/N), I'm drinking coffee that's powerful enough to paralyze a horse, I can definitely handle the slow Wednesday night crowd," he said sarcastically to which you laugh.

After getting your things from your locker in the back room, you proceed to go out through the front door.

Unbeknownst to you, Seonghwa had followed behind.

You were only several steps away from the café when suddenly Seonghwa caught up to you and grab your hand.

Knowing that it's quite late and it's dark, Seonghwa should've known better. You honestly only feel slightly bad for punching his chest.

Slightly.

Like 2%.

"Jesus fucking Christ, Seonghwa you scared the devil out of me!" You exclaimed after realizing that it was just him, pulling your hand away from his grip. He coughed, trying to ease oxygen back to his lungs after you had brutally knocked them out.

"Guess I deserved that," he coughed out, but he was smirking as if he's amused by your attack, "sorry, I was just- I need to talk to you," he said, looking at you pleadingly.

"Well, it doesn't seem like that for the past month and a half, Seonghwa, you seemed just about done with me," you said while crossing your arms, your expression showing nothing but disdain at him. He seems to feel remorse after seeing how you looked at him. Never once did you showed any negativity nor hostility to him during the time you both spent together.

Seonghwa didn't really know what made him pull away from you. All he was sure of is that he felt something so strongly about you to the point that it scared him so much. He never felt the need to be with someone as much as when he was with you. He found himself thinking about you when you're both not together, he found himself only focusing on you and nothing else when you both are together, and he found his vulnerabilities open for you to access.

It scared him to hell and back when he realizes that there is a possibility of him wanting something more from you.

With you.

The man before you sighed, "I... Have no excuse for how I acted recently but believe me when I said that I regret pulling myself away from you because I'm scared, you're too good to and for someone like me, you deserve the best and I wanna be the best for you," he stepped closer to take both your hands in his, his eyes were genuine which rendered you incapable of being too mad at him, "I wish I could rewind the time and take back what I did, I never should have pulled away from you, I should have just told you the truth," he said.

For a second, he forgot about his image and he just let whatever he was feeling out, he wanted to make sure that you understand how he truly feels.

Both of you stood in silence, just staring at each other as he rubs his thumb on the back of your hand. With the way you're staring at him now, he was sure that your initial resolve had completely melted.

But suddenly from his peripheral vision, he saw Vernon coming out of a bookstore across the road and was looking around.

Remembering what prompted him to get closer to you again, he pulled you in close into his arms, a hand to your cheek and lips just centimetres away from his.

"So? Would you please give me another chance to show you how much you mean to me? Not as just some guy from your statistics class," his words made you chuckle and roll your eyes, "but as your boyfriend," he said before he could stop himself.

Your eyes widened, "m-me? With y-you? Boyfriend and girlfriend?" you choked out, not believing your ears in the first place. You wanted to make sure that he's not kidding, making a joke or making a fool out of you.

Instead of answering, however, he simply leaned in and places his lips softly on yours. The kiss was sweet, it conveyed how much he wants and misses you. For some reason it made you feel comforted, he feels like home and his arms makes you feel safe.

So then and there, you kiss him back as a form of an answer to him.

When you both finally pull away, you both could see dumb smiles decorating the other's face, proof of happiness over what just happen.

Remembering that you're in the middle of the road and there are people around you, you pulled away from his arms first but reached to tangle your hand in his.

"Come on, I believe I owed my groupmate my part of the presentation," you started as you walk, pulling him with you.

But as you walk, you turn your head at him to throw a flirty smirk, "boyfriend" you said, making him grin so wide, it could rival a Cheshire cat.

Maybe you and he isn't a bad idea at all.

All you can do now is hope that he won't break you.