#small-ish in either the brightest colors

[iznsfw]

Tutor eunbi where she rewards you increasingly everytime you get an answer correct starting from clothed groping and ending up with creampie

(inspired by a jav that uhhh... my friend saw definitely not me)

[KWON-0927] "P-please be gentle!" Busty School Tutor Whimpers Cutely As You Go Down On Her Curvy Figure After A Rough Revising And Has Her Sensitive Nipples Played With! Never Gonna Fail An Exam Again!

IZ Days of Christmas: Day 1 - Kwon Eunbi

First Part of Dulce Periculum | Next Part

IZ*ONE's Kwon Eunbi x Male Reader Smut

8,131 words

Categories | tutor!Eunbi, uniform sex, rough sex, nipple play, corruption, titjob, mating press, tit play, fingering, creampie, squirting

Start of Iz*Mas! This is my EIGHTEENTH Eunbi fic. Me writing too much Eunbi.

Anyway, enjoy this :)

There's the stab of overmorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as ereyesterday. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look down into the textbook and realize there is a one-way path with this situation and it does not look safe at all. Everything goes downhill from here. There's the—

Three quick knocks pound onto your wooden door like silver rain on a rooftop. You close the textbook with jerky surprise, but you do not need to look into the eyehole to know who it is. The visitor is obviously her. It's obviously Kwon Eunbi, the smartest girl in your school.

You have requested her to help you revise for your exams, and accordingly, she comes to your home every Sunday since the start of September to do so. How you got so lucky to have such a pretty girl visiting you regularly, you'd like to say you have no idea. But you can only point to your report cards and feedback sections scribbled with dark red negativity. If the scathing words from exhausted teachers written on the back aren't enough to send the message, you will be straightforward: you aren't the brightest student.

You are quite average in other subjects, which is probably one of the two redeemable qualities about you. But English is just a ridiculous setup for failure. You do not like having people know you need help with it either, which makes your situation a bit more difficult than it already is if not for Eunbi being the sweetest girl in the world. (Besides being the prettiest.)

The fear partially washes away, like leftover combed seashells on sand. The phobia of failing has gone by a small surge, but a new one takes its place: one of Eunbi.

It's not that she's an overly strict and brutal tutor; in fact, she's as kind as a girl can get, and too pretty to be frightening anyway. But you are afraid of what you might do that can seem out of place if you want her to like you. If you want her to want you as much as you do her. It's such a stupid schoolgirl crush you have on her, yet you find no escape. Nor can you find a girl that can match the beauty she has, or a distracting enough video game to keep your mind off her.

Your heart aches with anticipation as you open the door. It is no big surprise to see that Eunbi looks beautiful. The pair of round black-rimmed glasses sits on her nose neatly, matching the color of her curled long hair. In addition to that, she is still wearing the school blouse and skirt, making her look like the perfect cute nerd in movies. It's a very usual and everyday outfit, nothing too model-ish or fashionable. But it still dumbs you down to nothing but admiration. How it wraps around her busty form and shows off her thighs oftentimes make you lose the answer to her questions even though it's on the tip of your tongue.

"Hi, oppa!" Eunbi says kindly. She is just a little younger than you, but definitely only by years. In terms of knowledge, she is way out of your league—she's miss Valedictorian, the biggest bookworm, writer of the year, and a good volleyball player. You... well, there's not much to go over.

She gives you a big hug. Emphasis on the "big." Her breasts practically push into your body and almost nudge you out of her embrace. The girl is adorably oblivious to it, only beaming with giddiness at seeing you, and hugs you tighter. Your breath sounds heavier than her giggle.

But wrap your arms around her a little too confidently. Her smooth back and taut stomach feel good under your fingertips. How much more if you were holding—

No. You can't think like that about her! She's your tutor, a completely innocent girl who doesn't deserve to be lewded by your thoughts depsite her insane body. But no matter how many times you remind yourself about it, you keep forgetting. Kind of similar to your relationship with sentences and predicaments.

But it is a different kind of forgetfulness when it's with Eunbi. Unlike the panic that grips you when you forget an essential fact while answering your test, you are blissful to delve in its ignorance. For a limited time, the world allows you to believe that she might like you. That you might have a chance with her. It's a little thing that makes you happier and sadder in the same breath, but you wear a big smile.

"Hi, Eunbi. Thanks for coming by so early!"

It's a statement free of sarcasm. You are glad to have Eunbi come by, especially when you are about to have a breakdown over English. But even with that aside, she's a beauty, and beautiful things are more than allowed in your home.

You lead her to your living room. Several of your textbooks, reviewers and fillers are already out and open on the coffee table. There is science... mathematics... history... they all make your head hurt more than any car ride could.

"Yeah, Miss Bae dismissed us early so I came here five minutes before time," she says with a giggle. But then her face suddenly loses its brightness and surges into fear. "I didn't disturb you, did I? I'm really sorry if I did! You know I could wait till you're settled!"

Oh, that cute downcast look. She is so painfully cute that you want to hug her again, and not just for the feel of her body. "No, not at all!" you say, calming her down. "I needed to work on revising early anyway. Will you help me a little more today? Maybe some extra time, too?" you add hopefully.

"Of course, it's my job! And you pay me very... abundantly." Eunbi gives you a cleverly-timed wink. "So I don't mind at all. Shall we start?"

She hands you the worksheets she has prepared. They're not too lengthy, and have her watermark: a clean red doodle of a bunny and her name in Korean. Nothing out of the ordinary. These letters in the questions aren't in Korean, though. Wait, why are they...

Oh dear God, no. It's English. English, the goddamned language you are forced to learn since everybody in the world knows it and writes it because one day, some stupid people decided to build the tallest tower in the world and made God angry. Or so you were told. But why couldn't you be the exception and go on without knowing the languages?

It's important to note that you are an overall average student. Not good enough to make the honors' list, but not bad enough to be one of the rejects sitting at lunch in the corner either. You barely pass exams, but something is still better than nothing. So, on other subjects, you lend in time to study without putting in much effort. However, this one is your weakness. While you still have hopes to pass in other subjects, the chances slim when you are put in the English spotlight.

You can never wrap your head around it. For example, why do "though," "tough," and "thorough" all have different pronunciations but are spelled nearly the same? Why does the menaing of a word or sometimes a whole sentence change your approach?

It is too broad of a language for you. You'd rather stick to the Hangeul characters you know by heart and say something in your native language. But you know Eunbi won't let that happen.

She sits there with her hands folded, patiently waiting for you to go on answering. But she notices the crease in your forehead and immediately knows what is going on; you have hit a rut, and she has to help you out of it. "Do you want me to go over some flashcards first?"

"I didn't know we were going for English first, but yeah, sure," you say, a little reluctantly. To you, flashcards are just the same as worksheets: difficult and senseless. So you do not understand why she thinks this will help. But hey, you're the student, she is the tutor slash teacher slash cutie. You have to trust her to do her thing well.

"Okay!" says Eunbi cheerfully. She brushes back long strands of curls behind her ear with another hand as she picks up a deck of cards with the other. She remains optimistic and bright-eyed throughout the first minutes of the session, even if you are the opposite. "What is a verb, and what does it do?"

The honey-colored card that invades your line of vision is hard to scrutinize. It is a basic question, really. But not for you, for in that second, every bit of the little knowledge you have about a verb dissolves to nothingness. Verb... verb... what the fuck is a verb?

You are stuck with nothing but a slacked jaw and an empty mouth. Even a third grader can answer this, so why can't you?

You look back at Eunbi with troubled eyes while her brown ones remain cheerful. Never lose your spark, little one. "Uhhh, I think—fuck, can I get a clue?"

"Haaah, oppa-ya!"

The little one has lost her spark. Your ignorance extinguished its heat. Eunbi bumps your shoulder with the force of both mock and real frustration. "There aren't gonna be any clues in the exam, y'know?" she scolds you. "You can't just go up and ask the teacher for a hint!"

You feel a little bad now. Your mind's habitual way of letting important pieces of knowledge slip from its grasp makes Eunbi feel bad, too. Because of it, she begins to doubt her own teaching ability. Is she not patient enough? Did she not choose the questions properly? All those things run in that pretty head of hers now that you have immediately failed to answer.

But it truly isn't her fault. She spends nights printing out your worksheets and reviewing your subjects beforehand, always trying to add a sweet touch to them with a scribble of encouragement on the margins. And you... you are just mind-numbingly forgetful and lazy. None of it is her doing.

But you want to answer the flashcard question with a little bit of help. At least just a tiny bit of help.

"But it's just a tutoring session right now, isn't it?" you reason with her. Look through those brown eyes and attempt to find a hint of patience she can use for you. It is only barely less than the forgiving glimmer that is there on the usual. "Just one hint can do."

You are desperate for it. They are not always helpful, but they do give you time to reflect on what you have studied. On rare occasions, they tap into long-forgotten memories of your other sessions with Eunbi. Sometimes they are about studying, sometimes they're about the little talks you have with her that aren't study-related. There's the right keyword sometimes to put two and two together. Only sometimes, but right now, all you have around that can be of assistance is a hint.

Eunbi is not dumb. She sees through your reasoning and understands why it makes sense. So, being the kind girl she is, she relents. You have the heavens and her parents to credit for making her so forgiving.

"Fine," she says sullenly. She looks adorable; her full lips are pulled downwards in a pout, paired with her spectacles. She looks like the perfect nerdy girlfriend. Oh, if only... "But if you still give no answer or a wrong one after this, we're going to review again. Do we have a deal?"

"I promise we do, Eunbi. With all my heart."

"Good oppa!" says Eunbi cheerfully, back to her normal self. "Here's the hint: it's what you, um, do. In that sense of the word."

Realization hits you, only by a little jab. "Oh! I think that's—um..."

"You just said a verb! Come on, you can do this!"

Then it hits you with unsure slap, as if it were doubtful that it hit the right victim. "The, the action that the subject of the sentence does—?"

"Ding, ding, ding! Yes, you got it!"

Eunbi claps happily, hugging you again. You are blissful, too. Maybe there is a chance of you succeeding after all. Maybe the path isn't so foggy.

"Do I get a prize for getting the correct answer?" you ask with much anticipation. Eunbi always has little treats for you to go by. After a particularly difficult mathematics session, she went with you to the café for a milkshake. Sometimes you would go out for a quick snack. But honestly, you'd take anything, just as long as she stays by your side.

But the Eunbi by your side currently does not look so sure of herself. You can identify well the look on her face because you wear it all the time: an expression of curiosity. You wonder what had gone on behind the scenes for her to look so insecure.

Her index fingers meet and part repeatedly as she gazes at you. Her eyes tell a story you cannot piece apart, but you can get the mood of it: a strange wistfulness left unattended to.

"It's all up to you, actually," she says, quietly, "and I just want to know what it feels like when it's from you. Just that."

"What do you mean, Eunbi?" you ask, with more confusion than ever.

"F-for your prize, you can touch my, um, chest."

"Huh? What happened, is your heart beating weird?"

"No, oppa, I want you to touch my breasts, pleaseee!"

She spurts out the statement with frustration and embarrassment. Eunbi's cheeks have grown bright red, and they only tone up when your hands start to fidget. You may have a hesitant mind of your own, but your hands have known what they wanted to do since the day Eunbi dropped that pencil and accidentally flashed you more than an eyeful. Ever since your eyes took in the beautiful yet limited sight of her breasts, you realized that there is more to Eunbi than a cute girl. And all the time, you thought that she didn't know of her own danger. You ignorantly thought that she is simply too young and innocent to find it out for herself, but she must have seen your provoked expression that day.

"Eunbi...?"

"Look." Eunbi pouts at you and unbuttons the first few buttons of her blouse. The two hills—no, mountains—of flowing cleavage rises into your view. "Does oppa want his prize or not?"

"Of, of course I do."

Tentatively wrap your deft fingers around Eunbi's tit. It feels even better than you imagined. Even with the partial cloth blocking you from its full glorious nakedness, its softness remains. You can feel her nipple harden under your thumb as you continue to squeeze her.

It is a new feeling to Eunbi, having a foreign hand touch where she is second most sensitive. Especially since she has not done any of this sex thing besides touching herself. And even the orgasms that had her whimpering and rocking against her pillow with desperation cannot compare to your fingers groping her.

"Mmm, oppa, that feels good." Her eyes close with all the pleasure you give to the softness of her heavy breasts. "So good... getting touched by you like this."

"Fuck, Eunbi"—your body inches closer to her busty figure, eager to press against its form—"I want to—"

"No, s-stop, we aren't done with reviewing yet!" Her weak voice sounds as if she is trying to convince herself rather than tell you off. With a reluctant look on her pretty face, she positions herself on the sofa normally, trying to proceed. "Don't be so greedy, oppa-ya."

"Seems like you're greedier than me, Eunbi. You were whining like a puppy," you counter her insult. While you understand that she still needs to go on with her job as a tutor, she does not need to pretend that her heart is burning with desire, too. Literally.

Eunbi crosses one thick thigh over the other and shakes her head with clear denial. "No, I'm not! I just... wanted to know what it feels like," she now confesses with a sullen look. "And, and I know you wanted to touch me for the longest time."

Longest time? Does she mean that she figured you out that day, too? Kwon Eunbi is not as oblivious as you originally deduced. She may be sweet and cute, yet she is undeniably intelligent. You might have not said anything verbally about it at the time, but it turns out that she read you like a book.

Eunbi hides her face behind your English textbook like a shy bunny, leaving only her eyes for you to see. "I thought that it would be nice if I let you, because you're really cute, oppa! And it can be motivation, right?"

"Smart girl, Eunbi-ya," you praise her. Her cheeks glow red. She hides her face behind the book even more.

But your cheeks are beet red, too. Did Kwon Eunbi—the Kwon Eunbi, straight-A student and the campus crush—just call you cute? How long has she thought that about you?

The tables have been turned and your back was, too. You were the unmindful one all along.

You are struck by how dumb you are. It's not like it isn't already a usual factor in your life, but you don't miss things like this. You can tell how someone feels right off the bat with just a look. You pride yourself with your certainty of the state of everything. But even when it's already outside of academic fields, she's bested you. Again.

Just how smart is Eunbi? You have never underestimated her intelligence. It is hard to when she is always on top of the honors' list and the first to announce that she's finished with the exams. But now you realize she notices little things, too, just like you.

A silence passes over the living room for a few seconds, but Eunbi proceeds to the next question anyway. The two of you are blushing too hard and are just eager to move on.

"Second question," says Eunbi, shoving a card in your face, "it is defined by Oxford Languages as 'a word or phrase naming an attribute, added to or grammatically related to a noun to modify or describe it.'"

You appreciate the sources from which she gathered the fancy definition, but the elaborate meaning just makes your head hurt. Why stretch a simple definition out to such flowery words? One particular keyword rings a bell, though.

"An adjective," you answer confidently.

"Yes! Give three examples."

"'Pretty,' 'small,' and 'smart.'"

Eunbi blushes then nods approvingly. She knows all those adjectives were about her since you keep giving her pointed glances as you list them. She flips the flashcard to show that you got the right answer.

"You're getting better at this!" she says happily. "Your next prize is you can touch my legs."

Eunbi does not wait for you to accept her prize. She swings both of her legs over your lap, pressing them firmly to your thighs. Just when you thought Eunbi could not get more dangerous, she has showed you up again. The skirt barely hides the roundness of her thick thighs, nor does it hide the shorts that hug them so tightly.

You do not hesitate this time. If Eunbi wants this, then you should give in. Your hand graces the toned muscles on her thighs, formed by her days as a varsity volleyball player, and runs down the rest of her smooth legs. They feel almost as good as her tits, although the only thing that can outdo them is her face. That pretty, pretty face that reacts almost instantly with parted lips and closed eyes. You watch her responses to your caresses with a few pants of your own; seeing her orgasmic reactions is a thing straight out of a JAV porn.

Her center moves against your thigh demandingly. You take that as a signal. Slip your hands underneath her skirt and feel for—

"Hah, no, no, no!" Eunbi's gasps sound like they're wrung out of breathless lungs. "We still have more questions... and the worksheets—mmmm!"

Part of being a good tutor is to have the high ground, but not make it seem like it. But Eunbi is slowly losing the upper hand, all because of your fingers brushing over the center of her underskirt shorts and feeling for the insides of her thighs. She tries to be a good tutor. She tries with all the strength she has in her little body, but they cannot fight against your lingering touch. Nor can they resist the prods of your fingertips at what you think is her clitoris. You might be right; a sharper whine is heard from her.

"Noooo, why does it have to feel so good?" Eunbi whispers. She tugs at your shirt, burying her head in the nook of your shoulder. "Please, oppa, you have to answer some questions still..."

"Oh, fine," you reply with a kiss on her hair. "What's the next question, Eunbi?"

Her free hand shuffles the flashcards. "A word that represents persons, concepts, things, and places. Answer this right and you'll get a bigger prize."

Suddenly, you become the best student there ever was in English. You remember almost everything you and Eunbi have gone over during your sessions. It turns out that all you needed is the promise of Eunbi's body. The promise of the freedom to do everything good to that body that is just begging and pleading to be fucked thoroughly.

"A noun," you answer.

"Correct! You can put them inside me now!"

Swift and ready, your fingers travel through the sides of Eunbi's underwear and shorts and take pleasure in their destination: her hot, tight cunt. When your two fingers enter her, she practically screams. The virginal clamp of her walls is hard to navigate, but they are only a foretold joy for another part of your body. So you truly don't mind spreading your fingers and parting them. They bring another pro: Eunbi's helpless whines.

"Kiss me," she demands. "Kiss Eunbi, please. Kiss her neck."

Your lips arrive at her full tiers, only for a moment for they line down her cheeks, jaw, and neck. Her scent invades and controls your senses. She cries out needily, and she's honestly evil for it. So completely evil for enunciating her sounds with such desire and submissiveness, even if you're sure it's completely unintentional. But you fall victim to her anyway. You bury your face in her hair and kiss her hard, like you've always wanted to.

That's probably as true as the illustrious tits heaving up and down before you.

She's quite inexperienced, and it shows with the quiver of her form with every kiss you place, in addition to her constant whines, as if she weren't oriented originally to the feeling of being penetrated by your diligent fingers. But she wants it. She wants more of you playing with her body, yet she's hesitant, too. Should she abandon her job as a tutor and instead become your fucktoy for the hour? Or should she return to the former Eunbi—the Eunbi who smiles and claps for her oppa because he asked for her help?

"Come on, oppa. I have to, hmph, read another question. Please let me."

The good Eunbi still lives on. You're so impressed by it that your next kiss is one of tenderness rather than lust. "Good girl, Eunbi. Go on."

Her fingers grasp at the flashcards desperately, trying to keep them visible. "It is the topic of a s-sentence, and can usually found at the beginning or end of the sentence," she reads. There's a pleading glint in her eyes, and they send you a message: Answer this correctly, I need you.

You thumb her clit firmly, causing her to buck against it. It's a sign of her upcoming orgasm, and you are surprised that it will arive earlier than expected. But Eunbi hasn't been touched like this other than by herself. She's new to all this, you have to let her off the hook.

Rack your mind for the answer while Eunbi whimpers at your ever-so-constant thrusts. As you consider the possible answers that present themselves in your mind, she whispers pleads for more. Her thighs squeeze around your arm, telling you to keep going, even though your arm aches. You needed the exercise anyway.

"P-parallelism?" you say dumbly.

"No!" Eunbi shakes her head. "Now you have to stop, oppa. You answered incorrect—no, please, please slow down!"

Frustration wrecks your senses and sends your fingers furiously jabbing in the direction of Eunbi's slit. They do more than just jab. They dive into her and wiggle in order for the tiny hole to allow them in. Eunbi sobs as your kisses get harder, not knowing what to do when the orgasm rips through her body. How can she handle all this?!

You're being too rough. You know you are, yet you keep pistoning your digits inside her like it's an addiction of yours that you simply can't let go of. The sounds of her pussy slick with wetness and juices intoxicate you and send your impulsive actions into a flurry. Meanwhile, Eunbi's screams are becoming more and more concerning.

"No, it's not your prize anymore! It's too much, you have to slow down!" All those words yet she moves in accordance with your actions, giving you mixed signals. "I want more, oppa, but I have to be a good tutor!"

"The only good you're going to be is my good little girl," you declare. Teeth capture her earlobe then her neck. "And my good girl is about to cum, isn't she?"

Eunbi blushes at your words. She nods. She can tell from the way the heat is becoming borderline unbearable. It's dangerous, it's hot, and most importantly, it's wrong. She shouldn't have offered her body as your prize in the first place. She should have yielded to the temptation and resisted her lust. But they are all would've-could've-should'ves now. Eunbi is trapped in you.

She isn't sure if she wants to find a way out.

"Then cum for me. Cum for oppa, be good for him."

Her tummy is becoming too tight. She's scared, she's turned on, and she is very very close. "But oppaaa! I can't!" she sobs. "I can't, it's too hot, I can't I can't I can't—!"

She says she cannot, yet the stream of liquid sprays on your hands anyway. Eunbi's legs flail and spread, allowing you to furiously pump her core to climax. She screams the whole time, blinded by pleasure along with the heat. It pushes her nipples to erection and her toes to curl tightly.

You could have cum on the spot just from watching her cum. The climax electrifies her being and makes her shake from it. You never thought you could ever see Eunbi cum. The world is funny like that, bringing out the unexpected and hiding them once it becomes the opposite. You thought that her climax would be accompanied by quiet pleads. Instead, she cums hardly and violently. Her core holds onto your fingers and her clit twitches with need.

The flashcards have long dropped on her skirt. The worksheets are stained and wet from her squirt. It's all greatly unprofessional and low. But to you, she's still a good tutor. Still your good girl.

"You okay, Eunbi?" you ask softly. "Are you alright, sweet girl?"

She's shuddering like she's cold. Anyone would have offered her a jacket. You, however, offer her a kiss.

"I'm okay," Eunbi says, both to calm your fears of having hurt her and herself. Her eyes are closed and her mouth hangs slightly open to let out heavy pants. "Eunbi's okay."

"Glad to hear that," you say with a relieved smile. She smiles back tiredly. "Still up to tutor me after this?"

She nods. Of course she is. She is yours now, after all, although the two of you haven't been able to grasp at saying it out loud yet.

"Any last questions?"

"Yes, of course."

Eunbi lies back into your chest with a sigh of exhaustion. It's the happy kind of tiredness though. It was quite the surreal experience. In just a matter of minutes and only with your finger, she saw stars and still needs to be brought back down to earth.

Her whole body is numb. She needs to feel something. "The answer was noun, by the way."

"I thought so."

"Sure you did. What's a pronoun?"

That, you know. It's easy to remember since they are used so often. "Words used to substitute for names and things so they don't get repetitive. Examples are 'it,' 'she,' 'him,' and so on."

"Correct! Your prize is this!"

Her fingers stretch the garter of her shorts, and let its material fall to the floor. Her underwear follows shortly after. Your dazed eyes follow each slip and descent with longing. Then you realize that you don't have to long and wish for it like you did all those days ago. You can actually have it. She wants you to have it, and that fact alone makes it all the more exciting.

The storm of lust takes her down. She crashes on the sofa of your living room. You splay her legs apart to prepare her for the second taking. Her teeth dig into her bottom lip as she watches you fish out your erection, which already leaks with desire.

Then she looks up at you.

Kwon Eunbi looks up at you with bewildered eyes, with her legs spread apart and the skirt unable to do even the slightest bit of covering up. Her tits look even bigger from this angle, because they're squished up behind her black bra and by the blouse.

But most importantly, there's her pretty pussy to admire.

And to savage.

All she tells you before it happens is one, simple request:

"P-please be gentle."

You, however, do not reply. You can't make promises you can't keep.

After that, only obscene sounds come spilling out of the valedictorian's mouth. And it's all because of your dick rushing into her hugging walls, forcing them apart. Eunbi cries out, grabbing for anything to keep her sane, yet her fingers only discover the pillows of your sofa. They aren't strong enough to be immune to the dig of her fingernails in them, nor are they soft enough for there to be any comfort for her panicked hands. So she uses her thighs as substitute. She holds her legs and pulls them whenever the pain returns again, somehow unknowingly putting herself in a mating press position.

Her narrow textured walls embrace your cock with unyielding tightness. You were so unprepared for it that you have to calm yourself down before thrusting again. But how can you calm down at all with Eunbi's face contorted in a mix of pleasure and pain, and her legs up in the air like that? Not to mention her round tits peeking through the unbuttoned fabric of her blouse?

"S-so big! Oh!" Eunbi flinches as you fire a harder thrust. Your cockhead pokes places even her long, pretty fingers can't reach. She feels so worked up, so utterly vulnerable that her eyes begin to water with tears behind her spectacles. "Please be gentle with me, oppa, you're too big!" she pleads once more. But it isn't the only beg she's going to ask of you this afternoon.

Consider being gentle. Consider engaging in loving, soft vanilla sex with her. But your cock says otherwise. It wants to dive into her with every bit of mercilessness you have, and corrupt this pretty little tutor more. And you are not one to withhold anything from what your cock desires.

But you settle for slow but hard drills first. Eunbi hums, full lips pursed as she tries to take the width and girth of your dick. Her senses still run high because she has just experienced an orgasm from you fingering her, so it's difficult to go through it all without sobbing a little. She's never felt this turned on before, and she is becoming a bit overwhelmed.

"Show me your tits, Eunbi," you ask of her. It's more of a demand, really. Their bounces are limited by the containment of them by her bra, and if you were to give in completely to your desires, you'd rip it straight off. But you want to see her take it off by herself. You've wanted to for as long as you can remember.

Slow down to let her take it off. It's a white lace bra, obviously a little too old and small for her since its clasps let go easily. Her heavy breasts spill from the soft cups and into your line of view.

If you were to use adjectives for Eunbi's bosom, you'd use three: round, soft, and pretty. Their areolas and nipples are pink, erect because of the arousal and the air. They begin to bounce repeatedly now that they are free from their fabric prison. You couldn't be more intrigued with their rising and falling movements. They are far more interesting than the rising and falling action of any stupid classic your English teacher requires you to read.

They drive you to strengthen the force of your pounds. Eunbi wails again. "Oppa!" she says. "Oppa, just let me ask you another question!"

"Ask it while I'm fucking you," you reply.

Her voice strains and cracks as she tries to speak. "What is a... p-predicament, and—oh, god!"

This is the only test Eunbi will ever fail. She cries because of the rough assault your cock offers to her virgin pussy, yet her walls still embrace it demandingly. They never cease with their squeeze, so she can do nothing but want to be subjected to your using even more. She wants you. She wants you to make her cum.

But being a tutor comes first.

"Oppa, please make me ask a question!"

The heave of your hips take a while before they get the message. You force yourself to a stop. God damn it, you were already so close. Screw school for cockblocking you.

Eunbi is both relieved and disappointed that you stopped. The tears that watered in her eyes have slid down her pale cheeks while the juices from her well-fucked pussy drip down the sofa like a waterfall. You've taken her so roughly that there are red marks of your hands on her legs. You feel a little sorry that you've treated such a sweet girl so harshly; she looks so spent. And to think that this is only her first time!

"I—I need to catch my breath," she says. Her eyes close while her mouth performs the opposite. It inhales sharp draws of breath that make her breasts heave and fall. You feel the slightest tinge of guilt that despite the rough session and the break the two of you are taking, you are still utterly turned on.

Lucky for you, there's only better things to look forward to in the hour.

"You were so big inside me, oppa," she moans. "I thought that I couldn't handle it... but I liked it so much."

Recall your earlier line and state it: "I thought so."

"I still have another question or two," she says.

"Hit me."

"Give three kinds of adverbs."

"Adverbs of time.... uh, place? And manner?"

"Correct. You've earned a tit...." Eunbi struggles to say it without getting flustered. "I'll just show you."

One gentle push from Eunbi and you're the one on the sofa now. Buttons are released and undone, and her two breasts wrap your length with its loving softness. It takes time for you to realize what is going on. So it hits you a little later to realize that Kwon Eunbi, your pretty little tutor, is giving you a titjob.

Where did she learn all of this? That she answers right after the thought touches on your mind.

"Does it feel good?" she asks nervously. "I tried to watch some, um, videos of it, but it always seemed so hard."

She moves her breasts up and down, trapping them in the jail that is the soft flesh squeezing your appendage and stimulating your senses. Her tits love the sensation, too, especially when Eunbu's fingers tap on her all-too-sensitive nipples. Whenever that happens, she closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath, in a feeble attempt to calm her thoughts.

"You're doing great, Eunbi," you groan out. More than great, in fact. Her bosom does most of the work, but her expressions contribute to your wants and needs as well. Those watery puppy eyes and the stretched frown of her lips make you want to fuck her mouth. See how much she can take and how much she can cry.

Next time.

Claustrophobia never overtakes your cock. They enjoy the pillowy closeness of the tiniest spaces of Eunbi's boobs. Eunbi looks on with utter fascination. She has never done this before, and never even thought that this was a thing. So she's a little surprised at how easy it is, and how good it feels for you. The breathy groans you make as you slide in and out of her voluptuous chest make her core wet with need.

You get off more easily and earlier than you expected. Just a few more upwards thrusts and you've ejaculated all over her. Eunbi gasps surprisedly at the sticky white substance that sprayed so suddenly. There's spurts on her collarbone, chin, and bosom. She looks so satisfyingly dirty that your guilt for arriving earlier almost completely washes away.

Her eyes connect to your tired gaze. Then, she fingers the wet semen and circles them on her nipples. She bites her lip, whimpering a little, but starts to tweak her nipples to deliver shudders of pleasure throughout her body. A drop of cum is swallowed from her finger.

"Eunbi-ya..." You're more than take aback. In a good way. "When did you get so dirty?"

"I had Sakuchan teach me." Her eyes close as she remembers what Sakura did to her. "She was a good tutor."

Sakura? Does she mean Miyawaki Sakura, the girl who wins a lot of the pageants at school? Oh. Well, the two of them do seem particularly close...

"Oppa."

You dash a look towards Eunbi inquisitively. "Yeah?" you ask. You can't believe her glasses have managed to stay on despite the rough fucking.

"I have one last question for you."

"And what might that be?"

Eunbi places her arms on your lap and rests her chin on one of them, tilting her head to the side. "Do you promise to treat me like your good girl?"

She's a seductive force to be reckoned with, one that was more of what she was born with rather than was taught. She climbs onto your lap like she has always known she's fit for it, and cages your sides with her beautiful legs. Her skirt lies on her thighs, a curtain disguising what is yet to come, while her hands drape themselves over your shoulders. They squeeze your tense muscles, yet your form never relaxes. Your body is too caught up with the lack of oxygen.

There she goes again with that pout. Downward tugs at the end of her plump lips, eyes glossy with the ghost of an innocence long gone. The specs allow her to see your hesitant face, so she spices the deal up.

"Do you promise," Eunbi says, "to make this memorable for me? Make it a good first time?"

Jesus, what was Sakura teaching her?

"Of course, Eunbi," is your answer. And apparently, the correct one. The only answer she'd take.

"Correct. For that, you can fill me up."

She has made plenty of requests over the time of the session: requests for you to go easy, to answer her questions correctly... too many to count. The word is starting to sound made up. But your head is only filled with thoughts of fucking her senseless.

Oh, you'll make it memorable for her, alright.

The tension breaks. You go wild, now that this second session won't be interrupted by academic questions. Those stupid questions that shouldn't dictate your worth, nor your future. Your job isn't going to ask you what time fucking Shakespeare was born. So why should you have to spend eternal hours studying for a test paper you're going to fail anyway? Why should you?

But surely there is no reason why you shouldn't fuck Eunbi. There is no reason why you shouldn't insert yourself inside the hole between those slick folds, see the pleasure run through her gorgeous face, and watch those exposed tits bounce. There is no reason for you not to grab her body and trap her against the sofa and take her pussy from between her widespread legs.

So you do it.

Switch positions. Grab Eunbi's shapely hips and turn around swiftly, pinning her down to the sofa. Swiftly enter her quivering form. She's still so hot and tight, you think, with a groan that mixes with Eunbi's moans.

Your brisk actions make her tense around you. She isn't sure if she is going to be able to take it again. Your erection still remains as large as ever. It penetrates her inexperienced body so well that she doesn't think she'll want any other dick to take her this way, even if she's only received one all this time: yours.

Her moans return. From there, you cannot hold back. You pound into Eunbi with gusto. She yelps everytime, squirming to make herself comfortable in this position and to bring herself closer to your cock. Not that it's leaving anytime soon; only a few inches exit with your in-and-out thrusts, driving your leaking mushroom head repeatedly to her cervix. Her cries are as constant as your drills.

You fight against the narrowness of her walls. You thrust in her with the intention to fuck her so good that you make them memorize the shape and length of your dick. Eunbi's tightness isn't a problem, though; it's easier to rub the texture of her walls this way. Easier to make her scream.

Her cum-covered tits now bounce freely. They've been released from the confinement of her bra and buttons earlier, so you are offered the pretty viee of them jiggling as you knock Eunbi up. Semen covers their nipples. It drips down to her toned stomach. You've been put in such a sex-crazed trance by them that it almost steals your attention away from her pleasured face.

Lopsided glasses remain before Eunbi's wide, fluttering eyes. You are using her thighs to pull yourself to her, and to spread them to allow more heavenly access. Her skirt has flown up to her taut tummy. She is such a mess for your cock in every way, yet you still find yourself wildly attracted to her. She's perfect, from her moans to her squirms, her whines and her cries.

"D-don't stop!" Eunbi tells you. There's no "please" attached to the starts or ends of her requests anymore. Her politeness has melted away. Its loss has allowed her to show that her screamed statement isn't a request. No, she's demanding that your thrusts don't falter nor pause. She's demanding for every might you have in your body to be delivered to her in the form of your pumping. "Make me cum, oppa! Make me... hngmph!"

You rub her wet pearl with your thumb, meriting a delightful pursed moan from her. You start to give it harsh and forced flicks. Eunbi responds with several gasped groans that sound higher than before. They're followed by raspier moans, which you didn't expect to love hearing from her. Her screams are better, though, you'd say.

Her celestial form writhes and shifts in its position on your sofa. Eunbi cries out everytime you swipe at her clit again, or throw a spank at her ass, which you only discover now is as equally deserving of appreciation as her tits or face. Every inch of her is perfect. Every inch of her deserves to be loved.

That is precisely why your hands touch everything. You lean over to take one of those pretty nipples in between your fingers and give it a firm squeeze. She sighs delightfully. After kissing her lips and taking in their strawberry bubblegum-like taste, you decide that it is time.

Grab her legs firmly, push them together, then shove them up in the air. Your stomach slaps the curves of her thighs while your dick joins her cervix once more. Eunbi's skirt has no purpose now. At least, not any purpose that is enough to hide her naked obscenity. But you care more for the yells that wickedly corrupt your heart that come from Eunbi's gorgeous set of lips—

For the panicked shake of her legs as your pounds obtain maximum strength—

For the severe cry she makes while her hands yearn and play with her breasts beautifully covered with your semen—

For the look of uncaged wildness in Eunbi's eyes; the one you recognize as the result of a freshly-broken innocence—

—are too much.

"Cum, cum— cumming!" she shrieks. Her whole body spasms and quakes, and you begin to have difficulties keeping her legs, which have been used even in the timespan of half an hour or so to spread for you, in the mating press position. "Oppa, slow down, slow down, can't keep—Ican'tkeepcumm—haaaaah!"

Paint the insides of the little slit with white while Eunbi renders the sofa fabric torn. Tears run down her cheeks. Her fingers, betwixt the red sofa blanket, have gone numb. Breathing becomes a chore; you're still going and going, draining yourself inside her to make the most out of it all.

Then, finally, slide yourself out. Eunbi's pussy has successfully been ejaculated on, just like her breasts and chest. You pray that the next time you find yourself inside her heavenly cunt, one of her name is already "mine."

Nervously, tentatively, lay Eunbi's legs down. Smooth her skirt back down on the pillows that are her thighs. The slightest whine escapes her mouth derived from the soreness. It's her first time, after all—it isn't going to be fine after just a few seconds.

————

"So, uh...." Strangely, you're the one asking the questions. now. Trading places with her, putting yourself in her shoes. Gaze at the exhausted Eunbi on the sofa and the anxiety returns to you. "You want anything? Frozen peas, a blanket, anything?"

"Thank you, but don't try to fool me," says Eunbi, smiling tiredly at what she thinks is your not-so-subtle way of trying to outrun responsibility. Unfortunately for you, responsibility can run nine marathons with the speed of twenty-seven horses.

She tries to spread her legs, but flinches when the pain hits. "You still have a test on T-Tuesday, remember?"

Of course. But you smile anyway. "I'm guessing you don't want another go then?"

A hopeful look passes over her eyes. "Do you still like me?"

Heart thumping against your throat, nod. "Yeah. A lot."

Eunbi nods understandingly. She asks another question that you are surprisingly ready for. "Are you still going to keep me stretched and filled up?"

"Of course. I'm still your oppa, aren't I?"

"And I suppose," Eunbi says quietly, as she looks down a little sullenly, "I'm still your tutor."

Understanding passes between the two of you, without words nor signs. You two dodge glances and avoid dialogue, and you're once again a little scared. You may have fucked Eunbi senselessly and impulsively, but you still have a massive crush on her. Has the sex ruined any chances of a relationship with her?

There's the stab of tomorrow's claws that sink into your skin as early as today. Add the fear that creeps into your heart when you look sideways at Eunbi and realize there is a two-way path with this situation and it does not look easy at all. Everything can go up or downhill from here. There's the phobia making your hands tingle, the shortness of your breath, the sweat on your face.

But there's also Eunbi's head on your shoulder, and her hands sliding into the comfort of yours. And although you still fear the depth the pierce of the future's claws can probe, the monster to whom they belong to doesn't seem so scary at all.

[urfavnegronerd]

dreaming of you- selena

trope: angst because i'm missing someone real hard rn so now its everyone's problem

published: july 20, 2023

warnings: sadness, possible errors (i edited it by myself so i did my best), tried rly hard to use regular punctuation, i haven't used y/n in a fic ever so for now we have a good ol character name that u can substitute if you'd like, alternates from past to present tense but let me know if i messed that up a bit so i can fix it for the sake of clarity, religious themes if you squint (a church, a saint and a prayer, nun too crazy mostly just honoring someone), i think that's it

pairing: oc (amari, gender neutral) x miles (1610 or e42, either works)

wc: 1.7k ish

cielito- little sky (at least that's how my family uses it), amor/ mi amor- love/ my love

Late at night when all the world is sleeping, I stay up and think of you

Time is fleeting, the days turn into months into years and however long. The concept of time is funny because doctors will tell you that you have a new dermal layer about every month. So my body has forgotten and forgotten him. It’s strange because he– Miles, is always in the back of my mind, tucked away quietly for me and only me.  

It’s been three years since Miles’ passing. 

and I wish on a star 

If I were to talk about Miles, I would tell you about his voice and how smooth it would sound 

“Amari,” he calls, reaching out for me. I hum a response, distracted by the calculus assignment in front of me. if I had known, I would have given him a proper answer. 

“Are you busy?” 

“ ’s just a little bit of calc” I mumble. 

“Oh. Do you need help?” I shook my head in response, too prideful to ask that of him. I felt him slowly and gently pad his way over next to me, the carpeting absorbing the sound, and put his head on my shoulder. His curls tickled my pierced ears, the scent of his hair overwhelming my senses. The smell of pomegranate and honey, something so soft and kind to me, to my nose, to my body. If I could go back, I would smell his hair over and over again, to keep that part of him with me, always.  

“I just wanted to feel you, Mari,” the mumbles into my shoulder sent butterflies into my stomach, the same way they always did. 

After I would tell you about his voice, I would tell you about his mind. 

Miles had the most beautiful mind, a painting of beauty in a warzone. A small rose, reaching up from the cracks in the concrete, fighting nature with pure willpower, a colorful muse in the bleakest of places. His mind was the birthplace of such beauties, and treasures, treasures that I will keep tucked away in my head. For me and only me. Something to tell the world, to tell Brooklyn, that Miles Morales was not invisible. He was the opposite. He was vibrant and kind.

“Amari, baby, do you like this with drips?” he asked looking back at me, standing on his tip-toes, his hands smeared with yellow spray paint, trying to reach an impossible spot with no one's shoulders to stand on. I look up from my book, perched on a tattered couch somewhere beyond the train tracks. The light he would use to paint throwies and murals was blinding, he would squint with his whole face starting with his nose and traveling to his eyes, brows, and forehead. 

“Yeah. I like the drips a lot baby,” he smiled something goofy, something whole-hearted and warm, no doubt the byproduct of the love he had in his home. In his heart. 

Miles was soft, too. 

He would lie on his back on the floor, staring at the sky on the rooftop and listening to music. He turned his head to me and stared. He stared at me like I was the brightest light he had to look at, like out of all the constellations I burned the brightest. At that moment, he was Galileo and I was the sky. 

“Cielito,” he whispered, taking the wired ear bud out of my ear and gently turning my face towards him. “I’ve never looked at someone as beautiful as you, knowing how much they love me. and I like you so much that I can hardly breathe Amari, and it's like I have this thunder in me, in my veins. You make me nervous. but also calm, calm from lovin'. Mari, I love you.” 

Instinctively, I blush, bringing the sweatshirt up and over my mouth. Smiling something fierce, I laugh and press my forehead to his. 

“I love you, Miles,” I whisper, staring into his eyes. I had never once been so sure about something in my life. But I was sure about Miles, I was sure about his hazel eyes and tightly wound curls. Sure about the way he looked at me like I was the only thing he could see. I was sure about the comfort and calm in his eyes, a small pearl in our Brooklyn neighborhood. 

I was sure about the way he kissed me next, sure about how softly his hands held my face. Sure about the small and rough callouses on his wrists, and how no matter how rough the world saw Spiderman, he was soft. comfort, warmth, and all of which are attributes of a home. And the more that I think about it, he was home. 

That somewhere you are thinking of me too 

I slam my hand on my alarm with a vengeance, and a seething ache in my heart arises as I look around my room. Sage green walls once clad with photos and posters, now stare back at me, tangled in bed, empty. All signs of a life that were once reflected on these walls are gone. Boxes litter my floor, and shelves once full of trophies, plaques, books, and jewelry, are empty. The only remnant I have of this room being full of warmth is in my head, tucked away neatly next to the memories of Miles. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes and tugging off my bonnet, I shimmy into cargo pants and a too-big hoodie. Miles’ hoodie. Folding up my pajamas, taking the sheets off my bed, and neatly folding them, I push the rest of my life into a box half full. 

I can’t tell if it’s anger or sadness that fuels me, but I push the boxes into one corner and sit on the edge of my now-stripped bed. I stare at the fire escape, the cool metal being the home to several sleepless nights, endless secret kisses and so much more. Memories of a life that’s been loved. 

A surge of emotion hikes in my chest, something that I don’t want to deal with, at least not yet. I pull on an old and battered pair of hightops and hike down the fire escape one last time. One last stop at the bodega down the block for flowers and a bag of sweet plantain chips, lightly salted. One last time to shove my metro card into the reader. 

Waiting for the train, I look up and see the sticker Miles stuck on the ceiling rail. I don't think Jefferson had the heart to take them down after he passed. Memories of a boy was loved beyond belief. Tugging the hood of my sweater over my head, I enter the train and grasp the cool metal. Something to ground me at this moment that feels surreal. Something to hold on to, an island in a hurricane.  

Stepping off the train, a shiver runs down my spine. The air hangs thick, despite the cool summer weather and a feeling of sorrow creeps up my throat again. Pushing it down, I walk. Walk past the small costume shop and endless coffee chains and then I stop. The church hangs ominously over me like it’s betting on me to turn back. To run from this nightmare, this anger, this pain in my chest. 

Shakily, I step forward, swerving behind the building and into the graveyard. Miles is next to Peter Parker, and I huff at the irony of it all. Clutching the chips and carnations in my hand, I walk to the heavily decorated graves. Emotions tug at my chest and prick my eyes. I finally let it leak from my tear ducts and streak my face. 

“Hi Miles,” I look at his headstone, half expecting him to respond in his slight Brooklyn drawl. I half expect him to reply Hi, Mari clear as day, like he used to. He doesn’t. 

“I leave for school today. It’s far, in Rhode Island.” 

I pause, my face contorting violently before finally letting out a choked sob. 

“You know, your mom keeps telling me that you wouldn’t want to see me like this. That I should let it out. And I feel so angry about it. Not at Rio, of course. Angry because who the hell gave you the idea that you could leave? Leave before Rio got to scream at our graduation. I’m not angry at you Miles, not in the slightest. You tried,” 

My voice breaks.

“So hard. You fought so hard, and I’m so proud of you. I just thought I should stop by before I leave. I brought you bodega flowers, and the chips you like. You don’t have to eat them.” 

I clean his grave up a bit, grabbing dead flowers, deflated balloons, and any sort of unsightly thing off his grave. There are a few unlit prayer candles left, no doubt from Rio’s extensive visits, almost all of them being Saint Micheal. Jabbing my hands into all my pockets desperately, I pull out an almost-dead lighter to light the five remaining candles.  

“May eternal rest be granted onto him,” I light the first candle, “let perpetual light be cast onto him,” the second, “for my faithful and departed soul, Miles” the third, “o lord” the fourth, “let his soul be at rest” the fifth, “and let him know that I love him.” 

I wipe my eyes one final time, kiss my three middle fingers, and gently press them onto the cold and gray granite.  

“Always good to see you, Cielito.” 

I stare at his headstone one last time. 

“I love you, Miles. You don’t have to say it back, mi amor.” 

The only thing pushing me to go back home is the fact that I have a long drive ahead of me. I would stay curled next to his headstone for the rest of my life. It kills me to think that he’s alone down there, probably cold. During his funeral, I remember placing his headphones on his chest before the casket closed. His hands were ice cold, the makeup made a poor attempt at covering the small and delicate freckles that littered his cheeks. The finality of it is forever etched in my mind. 

Somewhere, I hope he’s listening to music. 

I climb back up my fire escape and tumble into my now-empty room. Sitting on the floor, I fold my knees to my chest and stare at the walls. 

and there's nowhere in the world I’d rather be, than here in my room, dreaming about you and me.

fin <3

a/n: i didnt finish the get-down on Netflix, but zekes line where he confesses his love to mylene makes me cry every time, i had a really intense astronomy phase when i was little so i loved writing the galileo line it might show up in future fics idk. leave comments, constructive criticism and pointers!! and send reqs! love you goats 🩷

-rae

[baronessblixen]

I am so ready for Fall! When Autumn comes to D.C. Mulder shows up at Scully's apartment with coffee and maple scones and they walk through the neighborhood farmer's market, kicking at the fallen leaves and buying apples to make a pie and Mulder sees her cold-reddened cheeks and her bright eyes and can't help but kiss her right there is public. And Scully says let's go home and get warm and then . . . write it please? A drabble? A ficlet?

Fictober day 18! Been meaning to write this beautiful prompt forever. Set late season 6-ish. Pure fluff. Tagging @today-in-fic

The Sweetest Taste

The sun is slow to break through the fog this crisp October morning, tired of its job, ready for a break. Mulder, breathing in fall's bouquet of smells, is thankful. He makes his way through the lazy Sunday streets of D.C., smiling at old ladies, dogwalkers and the whole world. There are two hot coffees in his hands, one sprinkled with the hint of pumpkin spice. As much as Scully denies it, he knows she loves the sweet, spicy taste and he, selfishly, enjoys watching her eyes roll back when she takes that first sip, savoring it on her tongue, licking her lips.

"Good morning, sunshine," he greets her once she opens the door, pushing the coffee at her to let her know he comes in peace, work far from his mind. But his Scully is skeptical through and through, takes the cup with a raised eyebrow.

"Mulder, it's Sunday."

He nods, still grinning. "Get dressed," he says eyeing her robe, her messy ponytail, "The weather is too gorgeous to stay inside."

"Are you okay, Mulder? You just called the weather gorgeous."

"Please?" he asks, pouting just a bit. He's learned she's not immune to his pout. It works like a charm, every time. And if it doesn't, he has maple scones with him to bribe her. "You said you wanted to go to the Farmer's Market."

"You remembered that?" She sounds surprised.

"I do. So what do you say?" Mulder puts on his best, his brightest smile. He knows he has has her when her lips twitch.

"Let me put on my clothes."

He wouldn't say it, doesn't dare, but Scully looks adorable. Dressed in the same jacket she wore the night they played baseball, a warm, green-colored scarf and a matching knitted cap, she looks nothing like his tough Special Agent Dana Scully. Today, she is just Dana. And Mulder, knowing he's a lucky bastard, gets to spend the day with her.

The city looks different with her by his side. More colorful, more alive. He kicks a few leaves at her and she rolls her eyes, hiding a smile behind her Styrofoam cup. They stop and watch a squirrel hide nuts, smiling at the small animal, then at each other. A while back Scully asked him if he ever wanted to get out of the car, live a normal life. Back then, he laughed. Now, wondering if this is what she means by normal, by stopping the car, he thinks he might like it. A lot.

They're quiet, comfortably so, listening to the sound of leaves crunching under their boots. A few new ones fall to the ground, the trees bidding them goodbye.

"It's beautiful," Scully says, her voice as magical as the colorful foliage. "Thank you for inviting me, Mulder." He doesn't know what to reply, how to make her understand that he is the one who should be thanking her. Instead he crouches down, finds himself among muddy oranges, soft and bright yellows, mottled leaves unsure which color to take on, still in transition. Like their relationship. He looks up at Scully who watches him with careful, amused eyes. He's on his knees, in that particular way, and as much as he wants to ask her to marry him, he knows they're not in that place. He rakes his hand through the leaves, hears Scully giggle.

"This is for you," he says, holding up a leave in a fiery red, the edges crimson. She colors, a soft pink, and takes it. "Reminds me of your hair." Scully offers him a hand and helps him up. She keeps his hand on his arm as they keep walking and for once, the world is at peace.

The farmer's market is a whirl of people, scents and sights. Scully stays close to him, their shoulders brushing every second step. She's holding on to her coffee still, warming her hands. He'd offer to hold her hand, keep it warm, but that's another thing he doesn't quite dare yet.

"Oh look, apples!" He's never seen Scully so excited about apples. She walks over to the display of bright red apples, taking one out, testing and squeezing it.

"We should make an apple pie," Mulder says and earns two raised eyebrows.

"You know how to make pie?"

"I was hoping you knew," he admits.

"You're in luck," she says, picking up more and more apples, "My mom gave me the recipe for her famous apple pie. These look too delicious." Mulder pays for the apples as Scully takes one out of the bag, biting into it. He's mesmerized by it, watching her.

"You want a bite?" she asks, chewing slowly. He must nod, he thinks, because she comes closer, offers the sweet smelling fruit to him. He leans down, puts his hand over hers holding the apple and bites into the fruit. Juice trickles down their fingers, makes them sticky.

"Sorry," he mumbles with his mouth full, but Scully smiles, licks her fingers, looks at him, and licks his fingers clean, too.

"Tastes good, doesn't it?" Her eyes sparkle, look bluer and brighter than they've ever been, almost transparent. He swears he can see eternity in them. Her cheeks are pinched red, like the apple in her hand, giving her a healthy glow. Autumn looks good on her.

The breeze picks up, fills the air with a sense of urgency, of change. It speaks of the past, whispers of the future. Now or never, he thinks, then doesn't think, as he leans forward, and captures Scully's lips. She tastes like autumn, too, sweet and spicy, like all the colors surrounding them.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not," he says against her lips, red and swollen now, grinning.

"I'm not either. I've been wondering... waiting."

"For this?" he asks, his heart filling with joy.

Scully nods. "Mulder, this has been fun, but I'm cold. Let's go home?" She takes his hand and he's surprised how cold it is against his own.

"Good idea," he says, "We have an apple pie to make."

"We do. And then...," but she doesn't finish the sentiment and she doesn't need to. They'll figure it out. And he can't wait.

Feeling brave, he weaves their fingers together. They walk hand in hand, the bag with the apples swinging gently from his arm. Scully leans against him as if this was a regular Sunday for them, as if this wasn't the start of something new. The autumn air is full of possibility as they make their way home, together.

[haikyupid]

Order from Lovely NC,

Hello~ I said I would come back, so here I am~ My order is a Dalgona Matchup Latte. My mbt is ISFJ and I think my enneagram is The Giver. My personality is being extremely shy and awkward with new people, but I’m kind and lovable to my very close friends. My friends would describe me as cute and caring (because I always act cute towards them). I’m a 5’2 Asian girl who wears those aesthetic metal glasses because my vision sucks lmao. I am also about to graduate college (hawyee 😔✊🏼) so I spend most of my time studying and I love photography and journaling in my free time. I’m really into kpop like nct and gfriend (and many more) but I also like lofi hip hop music. I hate people who are rude to others for no reason and I dislike confrontation because of my shy/sensitive personality (I’m a cancer lololol) but i will atacc if someone is mean to my friends or family.

Thank you for being a frequent visitor and ordering here at Kyupid's Love Shop! One Dalgona Matchup Latte coming right up— oh, and the side effects are just in time; I matcha up with ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥

➞ the moment i finished reading your submission, bokuto just popped up in my mind and said “hey, hey, hey” so at that moment, i knew it was meant to be

➞ your guy’s relationship would be quite similar to the cliché ‘jock heartthrob falls madly in love with the shy cutie’

➞ obviously he was the first one to make a move, he didn’t even hesitate; he was just so… curious? like you’re so cute when you’re with friends and he can hear your adorable giggles, but with your other classmates you’re just quiet and shy… where’d the giggles and smiles go? 🥺

➞ so he thought ‘if i become her friend, then does that mean that i’ll also get to hear her laugh and see her cute smile?!’ and so that he did; boom, babie fell madly in love with your cuteself, and of course, he confessed to you.. kinda? well it went kind of like this:

“ah, ice cream tastes a 100 times better after practice!”

“haha, yes, bo, i agree. i love ice cream so much, it’s one of my favorites.”

“i love you, too!”

“…”

“…”

“…what?”

“oh, was i too quiet? sorry, i said i love you, too! you said you love ice cream so i thought i should talk about something i also lo—”

➞ tells you he loves you every minute of the day literally; he’s just like a puppy, okie? he just loves you so much, so he needs to say it to you at all times, ‘cause gosh forbid you’ll think he doesn’t love you anymore after he just told you he did 10 mins ago…

➞ oh, and lots and lots… did i already say lots? of innocent kisses! i’m lowkey jealous but that’s not the point— he literally bought a bunch of scented chapsticks because he was worried that you hated it when he peppered your face with kisses, and so to solve that he thought you’d like it if you ended up smelling like strawberries and cupcakes afterwards i— kyupid is now too soft to funtion.exe

➞ if you end up taking photos of him, and he catches you do so, he will asks you so many questions, but uh, babie can be a lil’ handful sometimes…

“honey, should i hug the tree or maybe i should climb on top of it—”

“bo, no! get down right now!”

“ooh, maybe we could use that duck as a prop! hold on, let me just catch—”

“baby, no!”

*cue the screams from both of you while getting chased by the duck* 

➞ when you’re studying, he’ll either hug you from the back like a koala, sit on your lap like a child would with santa (lmaooo, but then he’ll remember that you’re so small compared to him, so he’ll jump off and start saying sorry in pout while kissing your cheek several times)

➞ piggybacks are a must, he’ll pester you to get on his back every hour of the day, literally just straight up crouch in front of you and say, “hug my back, please!” and just scoop you up; and if you decline, bby owl will get very pouty

➞ the fukurodani vbc will always have you around during practices; they even make you a lil’ cubby to study in (if you needed to) daily, because they just know that bo becomes a very happy bby when you’re around

➞ let me tell you, if you ever need someone to dance with you while jamming to kpop, bokuto kotarou is your man; i won’t even lie, unless you’re a true dancer, man will probably grill your dancing, like he’s just too good help—

➞ prefers to dance to twice (bro, just imagine this rn, just close your eyes imagine this beautiful scenery) but his all time favorite song to dance to is boss by nct which is so different from his usual pick of cute dances; i headcanon that you get hella nosebleeds since he gets all serious and sexy when dancing this song i— sis, tell me i’m wrong, i dare you

➞ bo is such a cute puppy around you, so it scares you so much when he becomes so serious if someone ever messes with you (honestly, he attracts lots of girls, so maybe one of those) or someone you care for; but don’t worry! once his focus is on you again, his usual imaginary tail will wag and he’ll have the brightest smile on his face as if he didn’t sport the death look just seconds ago

➞ y’know how 99% of relationships have that first stage of all lovey-dovey (honeymoon-ish phase) then it just disperses, well guess what? you’re relationship with bokuto is stuck in that phase forever! you both will have everyone else jealous around you, especially other couples, since how can y’all be like that even if it’s already been 15 years since you got married!?

Kyupid hopes that you enjoyed your Dalgona Matchup Latte! Here’s a lil’ snippet of your lasting puppy-love relationship with Bokuto: when I push you into Bokuto since your shyself keeps on denying that he does in fact have feelings for you 😠 (yes, I added myself there, I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it); he loves it when you treat him like that during his ‘emo modes’ it just makes his heart flutter and he’s immediately recharged once you kiss him after hearing a much-needed pep talk from you (akaashi who? nah, we only bo’s one and only girl in this household); he still gets shy initiating handholding (lmao, but this man kisses you without a care in the world) so he does exactly what’s happening in the gif; the way you two walk to school, or just anywhere really, except Bo’s more giddy (because he’s holding your hand, and you’re right next to him, and he loves you so much—) so there’s a lil’ more jump to his steps; there are times when bo just looks at you at the most random moments where he realizes that he’s the luckiest man on earth to have you, and during those times, he just has the softest smile on his lips as he quietly embraces and whispers the most genuine “I love you” — but you’re just like “bro… nani!?” because he does it at the most random times (but you now know that he loves you so deeply, so it don’t matter where it happens)!

Thank you so much for being such a dear customer; I really hope to see you again in the near future! Have a fantastic day, babie ♡⋆.ೃ࿔*

an: you’re the sweetest lil’ cutie, thank you so much for interacting with me 🥺 i hope you liked your order, and pls give my bby bokuto all the love he asks for. btw, i’m also a cancer, bby!

skdksksk i also struggled to spell quietly for a whole ass minute, no joke, kyupid just be dumb sometimes. if you see anything wrong with your order (gif doesn't work, no colored letters) message me, okie?

bo is the cutest. all fax, no printer.

[lovecaitlined]

Chemistry // College! Jungkook AU BTS fic

College! Jungkook AU

In which everyone’s favorite maknae is your shy lab groupmate in Chemistry...and soon, your best friend too...

Who doesn’t know Jeon Jungkook?

Well...a lot of people, actually...

Including yourself.

He’s not the most talkative person in class—

Actually, you’d go as far as to call him shy and introverted,

which is saying a lot, considering how quiet you yourself are.

He seems pretty nice, though!

The first time you noticed him, like really noticed him, was when he sat diagonally in front of you in organic chemistry class,

And you couldn’t help but notice his cute dimple, and the glistening single earring in his left ear as he bent over his desk to take down notes.

OrgChem was that one subject you dreaded every single MWF,

Like sure, you had a pretty good prof who was great at explaining things, but it still managed to melt your brain like all those chemical concoctions.

His cute face sort of brightened up your day, even though he was pretty silent and spent all his time pushing up his glasses nervously with his left hand and furiously scribbling down notes with his right.

And speaking of chemical concoctions...

He was your groupmate in lab!

Other than being in your OrgChem class, you didn’t really notice him much until you realized he was your lab groupmate.

You actually feel kind of bad because you’re usually lost during lab...

Your 3rd groupmate was usually MIA (rumor has it that he left school to become a K-pop trainee), and well, let’s face it: You weren’t the brightest Bunsen burner in the room.

You were usually lost af...

As if pre-lab and post-lab weren’t already hell enough to process, you had the entire experiment to get over with.

Other groups boded well, you were sure of it,

But you were just always so lost?!

The heat of the lab would get to you, your eyes claustrophobic behind ginormous goggles, your hands sweating in gigantic white gloves,

And let’s not forget your lab coat, which was two sizes too big for you.

Jungkook didn’t seem to notice, though...

Actually, he didn’t seem to notice anything—

Or so you thought.

Anyway, Jungkook was always so nice.

He’d always let you order him around

Well, not really order. But you didn’t get a thing.

“Jungkook, did you get what Ma’am said? What was that about combining Test Tube A and Test Tube B—”

“She means to heat up the contents of Test Tube A first in the beaker before adding in Test Tube B. Here, I’ll do it for you.”

“No, no, that’s okay! That’s fine! Um...how do you turn on the Bunsen burner?”

You were a hopeless case.

But Jungkook didn’t mind!

In fact, he was so nice about it.

He was always so patient and willing to teach you everything.

Soon, you became less lost and you began to feel less guilty for how much he was carrying your group since you actually got to do you part now.

You soon began to appreciate Jungkook for who he really was.

A quiet dude, but really sweet and kind at that.

An introvert, but passionate in his studies.

He wasn’t one of those people who topped the class, but he did get good grades, mostly A’s and the occasional B+.

He was probably gonna get an A- in OrgChem, and frankly, you were slightly jealous.

But you really admired the passion and dedication he put into his studies, as well as his work ethic.

And Jungkook may be shy, but he was starting to warm up to you, too!

Like he’d flash you a smile from beneath those huge goggles during lab...

Or he’d crack a joke or two once in a while.

His favorite prank was dropping some explosive substance into the flames and silently laughing at your horrified face every time you yelled, “NO!!!!!!!!!”

He was always so quiet, so serious, so focused,

But in between lulls in the lesson, or waiting for something to change color, you guys would talk.

It was nothing much, just a lil small talk at first,

But they soon became full-fledged conversations.

Jungkook originally wanted to be a musician, but his parents wanted him to become a doctor. He refused, but as a compromise, he had to take chemical engineering instead.

You’d have taken chemical engineering too, but you thought you would find it too difficult. Chem wasn’t your strong point. So here you were, a civil engineering student, with a minor in Chemistry.

You told Jungkook how much you hated OrgChem and you were surprised when he said he could tutor you.

“Oh no, it’s fine! Really. You don’t have to—”

“I mean, I’m busy, but I could...”

You guys resolved to have him teach and clarify for you the hard bits of the lesson during lab when the experiments weren’t too busy...

And Jungkook had such a smooth voice, and he was pretty good at explaining things.

(Actually, you could see traces of his musical inclination here and there—he sang and hummer to himself a bit while listening to your professor)

Your chem grades improved; sure, they didn’t soar as high as his did, but that B+ was something to be proud of.

Even after the sem had ended, you’d still see him the next year around campus

You’d always bump into each other and exchange greetings.

“Hey, what’s up?”

You two ran into each other more than you should have, though

And since you had the same lunch break some days, you both thought, Why not eat with each other?

So eat with each other you did, and you enjoyed having him as a lunch buddy.

He was pretty cute with that sweet smile and dimple, but well, you weren’t ready to admit that to yourself, yet.

So you two would have lunch together at times,

Nothing fancy, though, just standard college cafeteria good, although you had to admit the food was pretty solid for what it was

And the company made it taste even better.

Jungkook became more animated when he was around you

Or at least you thought so.

One of his friends, Jimin, was in your English Literature class and one day, completely out of the blue when you were paired for a Shakespeare reading, he sincerely thanked you for being nice to his friend.

To which you were like, “Oh, no! It’s no problem! He’s probably helped me a lot more than I’ve helped him—”

But Jimin just replied, with a small, knowing smile on his face, “Trust me. I know. So thank you.”

“Jungkook has been happier these days because of you,” he added.

You felt kind of flustered and flattered and thanked him in a hurry before sprinting off to your next class. What was that about?

But honestly, you didn’t really mind having Jungkook around, either...

After a month or two, your friends would notice you hanging out more and more together...and would tease you about it...

They’d ask, “Are you and that guy, you know, a thing?”

To which you’d reply, “Me and Jeon Jungkook? No, no,” while laughing nervously.

But lunch buddies became library buddies became official friends...

Jungkook and you would talk a lot, about your hopes and dreams for the future.

“I want to be a singer or a musician or something,” he admitted to you sheepishly one day. “I mean, I know it’s ridiculous, because, don’t laugh, I’m, well, shy and all, but I’ve really wanted to be one for quite some time now!”

“I would never laugh at you!” you’d tell him. “In fact, that’s great. As your friend, I support.”

He looked a little sad that day, but you didn’t think too much about it.

After all, you kind of envied him a bit then and there. Imagine having so much passion and hard work for a dream, and working so diligently at a college course you weren’t even interested in.

At least he had dreams. What did you have?

Must be nice to have you ish together.

But you two continued to hang out more and more.

One day, after your Coding class, you walked out the computer lab to find him standing in the hallway.

You looked at him, agape. “J...Jungkook?”

He looked sheepish. “Hey.”

You smiled. “How did you know my schedule?”

“I, uh, you must have sent it to me once.”

“Ah. I see.”

Awkward silence.

Then, you asked, “Did...did you want to tell me something?”

He grinds his teeth. “Erm, yeah. Do you want to have dinner with me on Friday night?”

Your eyes widened. “What?!” you exclaimed.

“Ah, no, no, no!” he said, shaking his head and waving his hands quickly. “You...you don’t have to if you don’t want to!”

You laughed. “Calm down! I mean...I would love to! I’m just...shocked, I guess, that you would ask me that.”

He smiles, showing his dimply face again, while looking at the ground. “Yeah.”

It was Wednesday then. It took all of two days for that fated night to come,

And you weren’t gonna deny, you thought about it constantly all the time.

You didn’t really have any classes with him anymore then, but it was still strange that you didn’t seem him anywhere around campus, almost as if...as if he were avoiding you? Your anxiety began to kick in: What if he stood you up?

No. No, no, no. Stop that, you told yourself. You’re being ridiculous. Jungkook would never do that.

He met you outside your dorm at exactly 6pm. He was dressed casually but nicely, in a white button-down and jeans, and beat-up sneakers.

You had on a nice halter top and denim skirt, with the strappy, pointy black flats you got on sale recently. You hoped you weren’t underdressed.

He smiled when he saw you at the doorway. “You look great! Shall we?”

The night went pretty well!!! You two had dinner in that new pasta restaurant a few train stops away from the university, and you walked around the park for a bit.

Talking. That’s what you did. You’d never seen Jungkook more animated than ever then, and you didn’t have to try, either. The conversation flowed as smoothly and nicely as could be. It was, frankly, invigorating.

By the time you guys cared to check the time again, it was getting late. Jungkook looked at his watch. “9PM. Your dorm curfew is 10, right?”

You nodded. “Right.”

“Well, let’s catch the bus now while there still time...” his voice trailed off. “But first...”

There was an element of alarm in his voice, making you look up. “Yes?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “I...I wanted to tell you something.”

Your heart drops.

“I...I like you.”

You’re not sure just exactly what you felt at that moment, but you smiled. Finally, after months and months of getting to know each other and friendship.

Honestly, you weren’t sure either. But he was the sweetest and kindest person in the world, and you were glad you met him.

Jungkook wouldn’t look you in the eye any longer after he said that, so you take your hand and make sure you make eye contact with him.

“Jeon Jungkook, I like you, too.”

He looked up to you then and smiled the biggest smile you’d ever seen him smile.

Jungkook isn’t a guy of many words, but that’s okay, so are you

Though arguably, you’re the more talkative, more animated one in your relationship.

Your friends and his friends would tease you too, saying things like, “Finally” or “It’s been months!” or “I bet he only said ‘I like you’ for his confession instead of some grand speech” and, well...couldn’t really argue with that.

But his conversations with you are always your favorite, because that’s when you see him for who he truly is, and because that’s when he pours his heart out.

You two are only yourselves when you’re with each other, after all.

(Even when he begins to show his crazier side, like pranking you, scaring you, or making horrible puns like “I guess we really had some chemistry, huh,” and you really want to smack him but you don’t because you love him that much.)

He’s still very passionate about the things he loves, like music and chemistry, which you love—

And he would never stop to work hard at fulfilling his dreams.

But you know what that means?

It means that he’s really passionate about you, too.

The End

♡

[luxheroica]

The Next Time Round [CritRole Exalted AU]

So @blackestglass asked me for a Perc’ahlia Reincarnated Soulmates AU, and I’m saving the prompt for a write-later type of circumstance, but I decided to take the opportunity to write the very specific AU that I’m probably the only person interested in based on one of my very favorite Tabletop RPGs. So, for all five people who are interested, have a Critical Role Exalted AU. (You probably don’t need knowledge of Exalted to know what the hell is going on, but it might help.)

[Also on AO3]

[More about the AU]

-

The Nexus jail cell was a filthy wreck. Vex’s sense of smell revolted at the stench of standing water, mildew and human waste. She had taken point for their motley band which for this venture did not include the two Solars because they were both-- rather conspicuous in their own way. Beside her Trinket groaned and Vex winced, wondering how much worse her bear must experience these smells. Her boot squelched in something unrecognizable. Vex made a face, and prayed that she had not just stepped in shit. These boots were new-ish.

“Brother,” Vex said, sickeningly sweet. “The Clasp is really starting to become a pain in the behind.”

The Clasp was one of the many gangs of thieves that had the run of Nexus, a thieves paradise. Vax had been one of them once, right after the both of them had Exalted, which made dealing with them kind of a pain in the ass. They couldn’t exactly say no when a Lunar decided he was done with gangs but they could make any future dealings unpleasant.

“Do you really expect me to disagree with that?” Vax asked. Vex sighed and shook her head. “The sooner we get through this the sooner Spireling Shenn introduces us to his Guilt contacts and we can be on our way.”

“How did you get involved in the Clasp anyways?” Keyleth asked, coming up behind Vax.  

“It’s a long story,” Vax said.

Vex rolled her eyes. “Just drop it Keyleth-- he won’t even tell me. It’s something to do with how he Exalted.”

Neither Vex nor Vax had ever told one another about their Exaltations. It was maybe the only thing the twins had not shared with each other. Vex could still recall perfectly that iron cage, the feeling of being helpless, then grabbing the poacher’s knife and butchering him with it and the rush of divine power that flowed through her as she did. She’d stumbled home with a bear cub and the blessing of Luna and no way to explain either to her brother only to find that he had secrets of his own he wished to keep.

“Oh,” Keyleth said, looking doe-eyed at Vax. “Well I’m always curious about other Lunars-- I’d love to hear it.”

“Maybe later,” was all that Vax said, which was more than Vex had ever gotten out of her twin concerning his Exaltation.

Vex’ahlia’s mentor had told her and Vax that the proper term for a group of Lunars working together was a “pack”. Vex wasn’t fully sold on the idea that Keyleth and Grog behind her were pack material but they’d been in a few scrapes together and she’d started to slowly trust them. Keyleth was one of those sweetness-and-light, we all must come together to protect Gaia type of Lunars. She’d gotten very excited about all of the Lunars going on an adventure together.

Grog Strongjaw was, on the other hand, the fight everything and ask questions later type of Lunar. He had already handily dispatched the guards of this tiny prison, turning into a hulking creature that was part-man part-hippopotamus and all-destruction and tearing them apart like they were tissue paper. Vex hadn’t even had to draw her bow.  

“Hey guys,” he said, waving at a dark spot not illuminated by the dim torchlight. “I think there’s another floor down here.”

Vex walked over to investigate. There was indeed a rickety ladder leading down another level into pitch blackness. The mildew was worse down there but the scent of human excrement less so. Vex could just barely see stale water shining down at the bottom.

“Me and Vax will go down,” she decided, glancing around at the small group. “You and Keyleth search and see if you can find a desk or a satchel or-- somewhere else where they might keep papers here.”

Trinket whined, a plaintive what-about-me noise.

“Trinket can stay up here with us,” Keyleth suggested. She scratched Trinket under the chin and the bear readily accepted the affection. “Don’t you want to stick with us, Trinket?”

Trinket growled happily. Vex waved her bear on.

Trinket lumbered off after Keyleth and Grog to search the rest of the floor. Vex took a deep breath and leaped down the hole rather than trust her weight to the rotting ladder. She landed with a satisfying splash, spraying stale water everywhere.

It was pitch black down in the hole, the torchlight from up above illuminating only a tiny circle around Vex. She put two fingers to her forehead and concentrated. The area blazed, lit up by moonlight a hundred times stronger than the brightest full moon emanating from Vex’s forehead. It lit up another long bank of cells.

With the light came an itch at the back of Vex’s feet. Keep walking, it said, the physical need to keep moving forward almost overpowering. Just a little further.

Vex, seeing no reason to ignore this inner urge and needing to give Vax room for the jump down, continued further into the prison. She did not run forwards as her feet were telling her. Vex had spent her time cultivating good sense and she wasn’t about to go running into the unknown.

“What do you see down there?” Vax’s voice echoed from up above. “Do you see any papers?”

“No papers!” Vex called back. “Come join me down here, it’s very lovely!”

“Quit pulling my leg.”

“No really, it’s like the Imperial Palace down here! Silk sheets and gold leaf and servants carrying exotic fruits on platters! The Empress would be jealous of this place.”

“Haha,” Vax said sarcastically. It was accompanied by a strangled laugh in the darkness.

Vex went perfectly still, looking for where that laugh came from. Water drip-drip-dripped in the long silence. “Is someone there?” she called loudly.

“You’re looking for paperwork, aren’t you?” a voice said at last out of the darkness. Male, cultured, with maybe a hint of a Northern accent? “I’ll help you find it if you let me out of here.”

Vex crept forward, one tiny footstep at a time, on guard for anything. She wouldn’t put it past the Clasp to get the jump on them by making them put their guard down for a prisoner. But something-- something that she couldn’t have explained if she were asked-- said that this wasn’t the case. The light of her caste mark illuminating everything with a pale glow, Vex rounded the corner and peered into the jail cell.

The man inside was filthy, covered top to toe in dirt, so that Vex couldn’t even see what color his coat was. His shock of white hair was plastered to his forehead by a steady drip of water from above, and he’d retreated to the only dry patch of floor. Vex’s first thought was pity. She’d seen plenty of wretchedness in this wretched city, but he just looked so miserable.

The man in the cell looked up and his blue eyes met Vex’s.

Vex just stared. She was rooted to the spot, could not move if she tried. Something deep in her soul shifted, turned, came right.

She found herself lost in memory she���d never had. A workshop full of ancient tools she had no names for but which were intimately familiar, leaning over an oak workbench that smelled of soot and chemicals. The remembered smell was so strong it overpowered the stagnant water smell of the cell. The man in the workshop wore a different face but he was the same man.

A hand on her shoulder jolted Vex out of-- whatever that was.

“Vex?” Vax asked, concerned. “Are you alright?”

Vex blinked and she was fine and whatever strangeness that had come over her looking at the man in the cell was gone. “Yes, fine,” she said. “Can you get this lock? He says he knows where the papers we’re looking for are.”

The man in the cell nodded. “Yes,” he said, some bit of that urbane charm disturbed. Vex wondered if he’d experienced just the same strangeness she had. “I can show you to where they’re kept if you’d open the cell. I’d like to get out, if I can.”

Vax frowned, sizing up the stranger. Vex also took another long look at him, wondering just what about him had triggered such a strong reaction. Whatever it was had ebbed.

“Look, I hope you don’t mind if we have you walk in front of us,” Vax said darkly. “We’re not very trusting folk lately.”

The man in the cell nodded. “I understand,” he said. “You’re Exalts, aren’t you? That’s not a fight I want to pick-- not that I was thinking of it in the first place, mind you.”

Vex raised an eyebrow, surprised that he’d used the proper term instead of the more popular “anathema”. He didn’t recoil from the brand burning on Vex’s forehead either, instead seeming quite comfortable with the concept. Most people in Nexus would work with Anathema if the price was right, but there was usually a visual discomfort.

“That’s right,” Vax said. “So don’t try anything.”

Vex watched as her brother pulled out his lockpicks. The white haired man in the cell remained towards the back wall, but he leaned unconsciously towards the door, towards freedom. At last the iron door swung open with a creak.

The white haired man exited the cell while Vex and Vax waited. He started to lead the way briskly down the hall, towards the end of the row of cells. Vex exchanged a look with Vax and then followed closely behind.

“Thank you for getting me out of there,” the white-haired man said. “It’s not a place I would have chosen to stay, if I’d had any choice in the matter.”

“I doubt it’s a place anyone would choose to stay,” Vex said. “No offense but you look like you need a bath-- badly.”

The white-haired man chuckled. Once again it tugged something in Vex. “The warden kept his papers through here,” he said. “And I’ll be able to retrieve my weapons as well.”

“Weapons?” Vex asked, suspicious.

“If you broke in here, there’s probably more guards on the way,” the white-haired man said. He carefully opened the door to what appeared to be an office, furnished with several moldering bookshelves. “You might be a couple of very powerful Exalts, but I’d rather not trust my fate just to your skill.”

Vex and Vax exchanged another look, Vax silently asking if Vex trusted this stranger and Vex shrugging as if to say, ‘I’m not sure but I think between us we could take him.’

“You don’t call us anathema,” Vex said, peering at the man as he started going through the desk drawers. He opened a drawer and drew out a shortsword and a curved rod with a barrel at the end of some construction Vex had never seen. “Why not?”

The white-haired man made a face that Vex couldn’t quite decipher. “Let’s just say I have some experience with the subject, and I don’t subscribe to Immaculate teachings.” He secured the strange device in his coat and stepped back from the desk. “Whatever papers you’re looking for should be in there.”

Vax started going through the desk while Vex watched their unexpected ally closely.

“You have some experience with the subject?” Vex repeated the white-haired man’s phrasing, cocking her eyebrow at him. “What’s that?”

“A very long story,” the man said. “One I’d be all too happy to tell once we get out of here, and have a bit more time.”

Vex frowned, wondering if she should trust that. But he was right, they were working on a bit of a time crunch. “Well then, can we at least know your name?”

The white-haired man held out his hand to shake. “Percival Fredrickstein von Mussel Klossowski de Rolo III,” he said.

Vex reached out and shook the hand of Percival Fredrickstein von Mussel Klossowski de Rolo III. When her hand touched his, a tangible shock ran up her arm. From the surprised look in Percival’s eyes, he felt it too.

“Seems like nothing about you is short, Percy,” Vex said. That earned a quick smile from him, and Vex found herself smiling back, though she wasn’t entirely sure why. “I’m Vex and that’s my brother Vax, and we’ve got two more upstairs.”

“Excellent,” Percy said. “Then let’s get out of here.”

[kristxff-bjxrgman]

TASK 001 — DIG A LITTLE DEEPER !

(Answering this as Kristoff because it’s more fun that way.)

BASIC INFORMATION.

What is your full name ? 

Kristoff Andersson Bjorgman

How is it pronounced ? 

Kris-tohf Ann-duhr-sohn Buh-your-g-man

Is there a meaning behind it ? 

Kristoff - basically Scandinavian for Christopher, which I’m told means carrier of Christ (okay...)

Andersson - son of Andrew (I don’t know who Andrew is)

Bjorgman - .....I absolutely have no idea about this one.

Do you have any nicknames ? 

Christopher (this was by Anna, when I first met her, in which I immediately corrected her), Ice Dude, Woodsy Guy, Tall Guy, Hey You, Weirdo (by my cousins)

When and where were you born ?

I am adopted, so I’m not exactly sure where, but my birth date is on May 3.

What’s your zodiac sign and what traits do you most relate to ?

Zodiac, schmodiac. I don’t really believe all that stuff. But if you really insist, they all say I’m a Taurus. That’s the bull one, right? Awesome.

Traits? Well, it says here on the Internet that Taurus men are down-to-earth, stubborn, reserved, and can be aggressive and competitive. Well, I guess that’s me alright. It also says here that Taurus men are supposed to be well-traveled and highly successful financially. Now, I highly doubt these though.... Who came up with this stuff, anyway?

Oh, but it does say that when we fall in love, we fall in love deeply and completely. Okay, that’s sounds good. And that, we’re also great at se-- *coughs* Okay, I think that’s enough for now.

What’s your nationality ?

American, but we’re basically ethnically Scandinavian.

What’s your occupation ?

The most stable job at the moment is helping out with the family’s lumber business. I mean, I’m still in college, and will continue with the family business in time. 

What gender do you identify yourself as ?

Unabashedly male.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE.

What’s your eye color ?

Brown

Do you wear glasses or contacts ?

No.

Hair color ?

Uh, light brown?

Have you ever dyed your hair or wanted to ?

What? No.

Height ?

Um...tall? I’m pretty sure I’m past the 6 feet mark..

Body build ?

Athletic? But also sorta slim? I mean, I dunno.

Do you have any birthmarks ? 

Nope. 

Do you have any piercings or tattoos ?

Also, nope.

If not, do you want to get some ?

Not at the moment no. I mean, I don’t think I’ll look good with them anyway.

Do you have a healthy life style ?

Yes, I’d like to think so. I mean, after all, I LOVE carrots.

How easy do you get sick ?

Not pretty easy. My mom usually says I’m like a rock. Not easy to break.

Any marks on your body ( injuries, … ) ?

I do have some small scars in my arms and also a bit on my legs. Mostly due to my mountain climbing, but nothing too serious.

What’s your personal style/how do you like to dress ?

Um, comfortable wear? I’m no fashion expert, ya know. I’ve heard others say that my style can be either a combination between ‘lumberjack and mountaineer’ or ‘exhausted college student and hobo’.

What is your favorite and least favorite feature about yourself ?

I like me. All of me. But then again, I think being taller than most people I know is a total bummer.

PERSONALITY.

Positive traits ?

Loyal. Hardworking. Resourceful. Protective. Frank and Intelligent. I can go on and on, ya know, but I think that’d be too selfish of me.

Negative traits ?

Stubborn. Introverted. Awkward. Sometimes bossy. Quirky. Shy. A loner. Well, so they say.

What do you consider to be the best and the worst part of your personality?

Loyal and protective, for my best traits. And my worst? Um, being stubborn and bossy, I guess.

Are you more extroverted or introverted ?

Introverted

Any talents ?

Expert at hiking, mountain climbing and camping. Also great at all things lumber. And ice. And a decent lute player.

What are your fears ?

Losing my family. Or Sven. Or anyone I love. *coughs*

Do they have any phobias ?

No, nothing that I can think of, no.

What is your soft spot ?

I have a soft spot for animals. Usually.

List 3 pet-peeves you can’t stand.

High prices at Oaken’s. Like, seriously man. I do not believe that carrots can be that EXPENSIVE.

Complaining about having to walk, instead of riding in a truck. Look, riding in a truck is great for travelling long-ish distances, but if it’s not that far, then we should just walk, right?

The thought of committing yourself to someone for the rest of your life, without getting to know each other THOROUGHLY first.

EDUCATION.

How far did you go in school ? Are you still studying ?

Currently a junior at college. Trying to see if I can graduate with a degree in business management.

Do/Did you like school ?

Eh, it’s alright, I guess.

What type of student are/were you ?

Let’s just say that I’m not the brightest, and I’m also not the dumbest in my class.

What is/was your favorite subject ?

I loved woodworking. And also Biology, I guess. Music too.

And your least favorite?

English, I guess.

What were you/would you have been voted as “most likely to…” in the yearbook ?

Most Likely to be a hermit and live in the woods for the rest of his life

FAMILY.

Who are your parents ? 

Clifford “Cliff” Stefan Bjorgman - adoptive father; current proprietor/manager of Bjorgman Lumber.

Hulda Inge Bjorgman - adoptive mother; a crystal “healer” in her spare time

How would you describe them ?

Well, dad is...dad. He’s cool, as far as dads go. Doesn’t really speak or socialize much, so I guess, we’re similar at that aspect. Loves the business as much as he loves us.

Mom...well, she’s a bit chattier than us boys in the family. And by chattier, I guess you could say that she and Anna get along very well. She can be quite meddlesome, but I think she only does that because she wants to take care of us, and that she just wants the best for us.

Do they have any siblings ?

No. I got TONS of cousins though.

Are they close with their family?

Oh, yes. Very.

ROMANCE & SEXUALITY.

What’s your romantic and sexual orientation ?

I guess you can say that I’m heteroromantic and heterosexual.

Are you seeing anyone right now ?

*coughs* Um... I mean... *coughs* Um, no? 

Have you ever been in an relationship ?

Well....no. Not really...?

Have they ever been in love ?

*shrugs* I guess. Maybe. Yeah, maybe you can that it’s a yes.

How easy do they fall for someone ?

Not easily. Really.

In their view, why didn’t any past relationships work out ?

*sighs* I dunno. Maybe because they just don’t understand or appreciate me the way I am...?

What do you look for in someone ?

Well, I’m just really on the lookout for someone who likes me for...well, me. If some girl can appreciate that, then heck yeah, maybe I can like her back too.

Do you believe in love at first sight ? or fate ?

Ugh. My mom is going to tease me sooo hard for this.

Falling in love at first sight. No. I believe that you get to know first before falling in love with them. After all, you’d never know if he or she picks his or her nose if you don’t get to know them better, right?

On fate... Well, I guess I slightly believe more on that. 

What’s your views on romance ? Do you go after it or avoid it ?

Oh, I mean, romance is great. I don’t exactly avoid it, but I also don’t actively chase it. I mean, I’m romantic, but on my own pace, ya know.

Did you have your first time already ? How was it in your point of view ?

*coughs* Uh, it was...alright, I guess. *coughs*

What is your view on sex ?

Sex is...great, um, okay? I mean... Why are you seriously asking me these questions though?

What are your turn ons and turn offs ?

What the---? *coughs* Okay, I’m not gonna say ‘turn on’ or ‘turn off’. Well, in girls, I like it when they are funny, and can also get my sense of humor. Also, it helps if they can tolerate me. 

Were you ever cheated on or have you cheated on someone ?

Never cheated on anyone, and no one has cheated on me...not that I know of.

Do you want to get married in the future ?

Yeah, sure. Someday.

Have kids ?

Not right now. Maybe someday.

QUIRKS.

Are you right or left handed ?

Right.

What’s a word that’s always on your lips?

What?

Is there a saying you keep on repeating ?

‘You almost set me on fire.’ 

I find myself constantly saying this when in the company of a certain someone. *coughs*

Do you curse ?

Sometimes. Secretly. I try as much as possible not to.

What’s your worst habit ? 

I...tend to smell sometimes...? *shrugs* I shower, I swear! But I guess that’s not really a habit, right? If we’re talking habits, I guess it’s my frequent preference to just...be outside. That’s a habit, right?

Do you drink or smoke ? How frequently ?

I drink...occasionally. But not that much anyway. And no, I don’t smoke.

Are they an early bird or a night owl ?

Definitely an early bird.

How tidy is your room ?

Eh...not really that tidy.

How long do you usually take getting ready in the morning ?

I like getting ready in a jiffy, so most probably, around 30 minutes tops?

FAVORITES.

What’s their favorite color ?

Shades of blue and green.

Favorite movie ?

Oh, the Lord of the Rings franchise. Definitely.

Music Genre ?

Folk.

Food ?

Um...all of it? But, the healthy ones of course.

Book ?

The Road by Cormac McCarthy

Favorite non-alcoholic drink ?

Fruit juice.

Ice Cream Flavor ?

Rocky Road

Indoors or outdoors ?

Outdoors, definitely.