#but also i’m going to start making my teacher oc and by teacher oc i’m thinking of making her a coach

[moodriingz]

Waiting Room | Q. Hughes

Summary | Reader works for the Canucks’ socials and has an unrequited crush on Quinn. Based off of Waiting room by Phoebe Bridgers.

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | unrequited love, angst, moving on?

Author's Note | Oh my gosh this ended up so much longer than intended, so buckle in it’s a long one. I thought about trying to shorten it but I had so many ideas about what to include. I was also so nervous to write this one that it took me forever to finish. Also thinking of writing a part two, but let me know what you think. Please send in requests for other players!

Masterlist

If you were a teacher, I would fail your class

Take it over and over 'til you noticed me

“This is why you are the best person ever,” Quinn said as you carried an insane amount of coffee for some of the team and the Canucks social staff.

“Oh, it’s no big deal I always just pick some up when I get mine,” you say as you almost drop the lattes from your hands. “I’m going to find Elias and drop his off and then head to my desk. See you at practice.”

“Y/N how did you know I didn’t get the chance to pick up my coffee?” Elias asked with a smirk. “Or did you just get extra so it wouldn’t be obvious you love to get Quinn’s coffee?”

“Goodbye Elias! I’ll see you on the ice in a bit!” You shout as you walk down the hall to the social media office.

You set down the last two coffees on your desk, go through your emails, and write down some ideas for content before your morning meeting. 

“Y/N you have to stop buying his coffee, you're just torturing yourself,” Megan says as she sets her bag down. “But please don’t stop bringing me coffee because I never have enough time to get some myself.”

“Ok Megan I’ll keep that in mind, but I don’t get it just for Quinn, I also got it for Elias today,” you say with a blush covering your cheeks.

“Yeah alright. Let’s go get this meeting started.”

If you were a waiting room, I would never see a doctor

I would sit there with my first aid kit and bleed

After the meeting with the rest of the social media and communications team, it’s decided that you have to go on the ice to capture content today. Usually, you can just film from the bench, but your boss wanted some trending content that required you to skate with the team. The only bad thing about filming on the ice was your awful case of clumsiness.

You were filming content with Brock when you tripped over your own two feet. Normally, you’d laugh it off after getting up, but your left foot twisted under your body. 

You wince as Brock helps you stand to skate off the pain but yelp the second you put your weight on the foot. Quinn watches as Brock’s hands are on your waste and immediately skates over the second you cry out in pain.

“Are you ok? What happened?” Quinn asked, putting your arm around his shoulders to support you as he took you to the bench.

“I-I’m fine. I just twisted my ankle as I fell,” You say looking into his worried eyes.

“Ok, let me take the skate off, and then we can go to the trainers and get you ice,” Quinn grimaces as he takes the skate off and sees your ankle already swelling.

“It’s probably just a sprain, but we need to get ice on this ASAP. I’ll take you to the trainers, let's go,” Quinn says standing to help you up.

“But what about practice? You guys have your East Coast road trip coming up, and I’m not going to be the reason you skip out on practice,” You say trying to figure your way to get ice or wait until Megan comes to help. 

Truthfully though, you don’t want him to take you because the way Quinn is taking care of you makes you fall harder for him.

“Don’t be crazy. Practice is almost over and they won’t miss me for the five minutes it’ll take me to make sure you’re ok,” Quinn says as you nod reluctantly. You feel your blush coming back and know you’re never going to get over your silly crush on Quinn Hughes.

I want to be the power ballad that lifts you up and holds you down

I wanna be the broken love song that feeds your misery

The next night the Canucks lost to the Flyers with just a game left before the two-week road trip. The loss was hard following Christmas, and Quinn was beating himself up over the game. You found him after finishing up your content for the night and he finished his interviews. He tried to smile at you, but it looked like a grimace from how tight his lips were.

“Hey how are you,” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” You say sheepishly.

“Yeah, I guess. Are you busy tonight? I was hoping we could hang out at my place and watch some movies,” Quinn’s question surprised you. You’ve only really hung out in group settings or when the team went out after a game.

“I’m free, let me just finish wrapping some stuff up and then we can go,” You say with butterflies forming in your chest. 

You go and find Megan and tell her everything that happened with Quinn.

“Shut up you’re going, right?” She asks.

“Yeah of course I am, I think I’d be stupid not to. I’m just nervous,” You respond. 

“Don’t be. He asked you over for a reason he must not hate you.” Megan says practically pushing you out the door.

You nod and go back to find Quinn talking to Elias while he waits for you to come back. 

“Hey ready to go?” You ask.

“You’re replacing me for our movie nights?” Elias blurts out of jealousy.

“No, not completely replacing you. I just didn’t want to wallow alone. Plus I figured Y/N would be free,” Quinn says nonchalantly. There’s a pang in your chest because not only is this a tradition with someone else, but that he just assumed you’re at his beck and call. You both arrive at his apartment after a silent drive from Rogers arena.

“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, swaying back and forth. Is he nervous? Why would he be? It's not like this is a date or anything. This is something he always does with Elias. 

“Can I just have water?” You say quieter than intended. You felt small and out of place in his apartment.

“Of course. Do you want to pick out the movie? I figure you should do the honors for your first movie night,” He says as he pours your water. 

You think for a second and immediately know you should put on your favorite rom-com 13 going on 30. It’s kind of a comfort movie and you might calm down with something familiar. Once it’s pulled up he sits down with you on the couch.

And I can wish all that I want, but it won't bring us together

Plus I know whatever happens to me, I know it's for the better

He told you he’s never seen the movie as he sits down and watches intently until the birthday scene.

“Man, I feel so bad for that Matty kid.”

“Why,” you say, keeping your attention on the tv.

“His unrequited love with Jenna,” He says it so plainly like he’s toying with you for your confession.

“Yeah unrequited love is the worst,” You say finally looking over at him.

“Why do you have feelings like that for someone,” He chuckles at the idea. You realize he doesn’t know that you have feelings for him.

“No. I did at one point,” You say, and the subject is dropped. You watch the rest of the movie and he orders you an Uber home. You realized that night that your crush needs to end no matter how hard it is.

And when broken bodies are washed ashore

Who am I to ask for more, more, more?

Quinn seems to be in a much better mood from the loss the night before. But you want to avoid him at all costs today. Your boss asks you to do something with him later. There’s nothing you rather do than work with Quinn, but You want to stay in your boss’ good graces.

She asked you to shoot a video with a concept that had been performing well on socials with other players. You find Quinn before he steps out for practice to let him know you’re following him for the day.

“Hopefully you can keep a better balance than you did with Brock,” He chuckles.

“Yeah I’ll try my best not to fall today,” you say with your signature blush covering your cheeks.

“Well if you do I’ll catch you. Can’t have my favorite staffer breaking something.” Oh, he must be playing with you. Your face is completely flushed and you give a court nod before running to the restroom to calm down.

You start to think over your last couple of conversations. Had he been flirting? Or giving you more attention than usual? You think about how he rushed to your side and left practice just to help you even if it got him in trouble. You think about his smile when you bring his coffee. You think about last night how he was so tuned into unrequited love.

“No Y/N there are bigger things than a silly little crush. You have to go do your job.” You say to yourself in the mirror. After your pep talk, you go out on the ice, shoot your content quickly, and then go back to your office to edit. You tell yourself that you need to stop focusing so much on Quinn.

But you're breathing in my open mouth

You're the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out

The Canucks win the next game, and before you can make it into the locker room to shoot content Brock stops you.

“Y/N! Are you coming out with us tonight?” He asks. You can see Quinn’s head pick up waiting for your response.

“Yeah, I can. I just need to film a couple of the post-game interviews and then I can leave,” you say excited for a drink.

When you all arrive at the usual bar you head straight up to the bar. You give a once-over of the crowd and how many people are there tonight. You go find the boys at their usual table. And you find Quinn’s eyes already staring at yours. 

“I think I’m going to go dance,” You tell Elias before turning around to head to the dance floor.

“Where’s she going,” Quinn asks Elias, watching your retreating figure.

“Going to dance. Are you going to replace me there too?” He jokes.

“Haha, very funny. I’ll be back in a bit,” Quinn says as he leaves to find you.

Of course, you’re in the middle of the crowd and once he finds you’re already making new friends. Quinn laughs to himself because you’re so sociable unlike him. 

“Are you ok if I join you,” Quinn says leaning in. You can only nod and note his proximity but brush it off due to the crowded area.

He dances close to you as music plays over the speakers. His energy and presence make you feel alive. He follows your moves as you’re face to face and you never want this night to end. However, at the end of the song, he notices your glass is empty and offers you another drink. You nod and follow him back to the bar.

“Aren’t you going to order something?” You ask after he only requests your drink. He shakes his head no and gets closer.

“I figured I’d be the designated driver to take you home tonight,” he says with his breath hitting your ear. The alcohol already going straight to your head makes the room spin and gives you confidence.

“Usually I only take guys home after the third date,” You joke, instantly regretting it. He laughs it off and says that you need more water instead of a drink. Even though you’re tipsy you remember that this crush is going to hurt you regardless of how he feels.

I want to make you drive all night just because I said maybe you should come over

I want to make you fall in love as hard as my poor parents' teenage daughter

At the end of the night, Quinn keeps his promise as he ushers you into his car. You’re giggling as he pulls you towards safety and you say goodnight to all of the team.

“Goodnight Pettyyyyy,” you slur and yell as you get further from him. He just waves and chuckles. 

“Get her home safe Huggy,” Elias shouts back drunkenly.

“Will do. See you tomorrow,” Quinn says finally getting you in the car.

“You know my dad used to drive my mom back from bars back in the day,” you say once he starts driving as you stare out the window.

“Oh yeah?” Quinn chuckles at your drunken state.

You feel so grateful that he decided to take you home. You hate taking Uber, especially after drinking. You take note that the bar is nowhere close to your apartment and his place is on the other side of town. It wasn’t an easy thing for him to do, but he did it without you even having to ask. Maybe your unrequited love isn’t so unrequited and you fall asleep in your bed hopeful for what the next day could contain.

She'll be the best you ever had if you let her

The next morning was rough to get out of bed, but get excited when memories of Quinn going out of his way to bring you home come back to you. You get ready and go to the coffee shop you always stop at with a pep in your step.

Once you get to the arena you go straight to the locker room as usual except you stop right outside of the door when you hear Elias and Quinn talking.

“So you and Y/N,” Elias said with a suggestive and teasing tone.

“Nothing happened between us. She’s sweet and all, but I’m not into her that way,” He says quickly. Your heart shattered and you turned around to leave before you could be caught.

You drop your things off at your desk and run to the restroom to let out a good cry. After a minute or two you compose yourself before going back to your desk and delivering the coffee like nothing happened.

You hand Quinn's coffee and he thanks you with his usual stupid smile like he didn’t say anything ten minutes ago. You give Elias his coffee and leave the locker room without saying a word. Little did you know, Elias followed you out and caught up to you in the hallway.

“You heard him didn’t you?” He asks you with sad eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s ok I knew this would happen. I’ll be ok. It’s just going to be awkward on the plane because we always sit together for roadies,” you say with a sigh.

“Sit with me,” Elias says simply and you just look at him perplexed. “I’ll just say I wanted my own movie night with you.” You nod and tell Elias you have to go for your meeting before you all leave.

I know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You walk into the plane after your meeting and you finalize some posts to be uploaded while you’re flying. You see Quinn watching you expectantly for you to take your unassigned seat next to him. However, You miss the surprised and sad gaze he has after you walk past him to sit with Elias.

Elias always sits near the back of the plane, and Quinn knows you hate sitting so far back. He hears you and Elias pick a movie to watch during the flight and he gets jealous. It’s small but Quinn always wanted to do that on flights with you, but you always were more interested in reading or sleeping. 

“Do you want to watch 27 Dresses? Isn’t that your favorite?” Quinn hears Elias ask you and Quinn scoffs. He knew even before you came over to watch a movie that 13 going on 30 was your favorite move. That’s why he watched it before he invited you over so he’d have good commentary for your movie night.

You grab Elias’ hand as the plane lifts and apologize and say it’s muscle memory. You always get nervous on planes but Quinn always calms you down. You and Elias have fun for the rest of the flight. Watching movies even though it was something you wanted to do with Quinn. But you know getting over your crush is for the better. You and Quinn wouldn’t have worked out anyway.

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

The next day you wake up in your hotel room after letting yourself sleep in a little bit. Even on road trips, you would make a point of getting Quinn’s coffee. But you decided now that you know he doesn’t feel the same, so you didn’t see the point in doing it anymore. You come down from your hotel room and see Quinn in the lobby. 

“Oh hey, I was just going to wait for you to come back from getting coffee for everyone,” Quinn says sheepishly.

“Oh yeah, I guess I forgot to set an alarm and overslept. I can’t go today because I have to go meet the Blue’s social team before the game to go over rules for the game,” You say with little emotion.

“Oh ok, that makes sense. I guess I just see you at the arena,” Quinn says sadly.

“See you there!” You say with a smile leaving the lobby. This was the first time you felt like you could maybe get over Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

The team returns from a successful road trip and you feel energized, which rarely happens after traveling for two weeks straight. You and Elias became good friends over the trip and now realize there is a lot more to your work than just Quinn.

After your meeting, you and Megan are talking about your plans as you settle back into Vancouver.

“You should let me set you up,” Megan blurts out, cutting off your list of chores.

“What? Who would it even be?” You’re intrigued where she’s going with this.

“My friend Evan just got out of a relationship a couple of months ago. I feel like you guys would really get along. Plus it could be good for-”

“You know what I’m in. Can you send me his number or something?” You decided you were ready to move on.

“Yes! I’ll send it right now. I'm so excited.”

You go to the ice to get ready for some practice content. Quinn is out first and gives you a weak smile. You feel a mixture of butterflies and your heart clenches. You missed Quinn. You haven’t had a full conversation with him since you all went out. Even though you’re trying to convince yourself to, you don’t know if you’ll be able to move on from Quinn Hughes.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

Your date with Evan is today and you’re excited. You feel giddy all day thinking about the prospect of dating again. Your boss lets you go home early because you’ve finished your content and are ahead of schedule. As you walk out to your car you see the team going back to the locker room from practice.

“Hey Y/N are you coming out with us tonight? It’s nothing crazy we just wanted to go out to celebrate the road trip,” Brock asks 

“I would love to, but I actually have a date tonight,” You say with a grin and blush on your face.

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

There’s a couple of wolf whistles from the team when you tell them your plans. Quinn’s heart drops at the idea of you going out with someone else. He knew you guys hadn't talked a lot during the trip, but he just figured it was because you were busy with work or tired. He didn’t think it was because you started talking to someone.

He sulks as he gets ready to go home, and can’t stop thinking about who your date could be with and what you’re doing. He knows you look great no matter what you wear, but the idea of you dressing up for some other guy makes him uneasy. 

Quinn gets home and thinks about texting you, but what would he even say? “Good luck on your date hope you have fun” when he prays it goes badly so he has a shot again? He thinks about texting you to not go on the date, but knows it’s not his place and you might not feel the same way.

Instead he texts Elias if he wants to hang out. Elias comes over and immediately notices his sour mood. 

“What’s got you so down?”

“Nothing I guess I’m just in my head,” Quinn says.

“Is it about Y/N? I thought you said you don’t have feelings for her,” Elias says as a joke knowing Quinn would never admit it out loud.

“I didn’t think I did, but I’ve really missed her over the last couple of weeks and it made me think about her a lot. I just don’t know what to do,” Quinn says with his head in his hands. Elias is shocked at his revelation and doesn’t know what to say.

“I doubt the date is going to be that great. Tell her how you feel after,” Elias says and Quinn just nods his head. 

Know it's for the better

Know it's for the better

Know it’s for the better

You get ready for your date and get even more excited as it gets closer to your date. You know it might not go anywhere with Evan, but you’re just proud of yourself for trying to move on from Quinn.

You go to meet Evan at a restaurant downtown, and give him a hug when you see him. You quickly notice he’s the complete opposite of Quinn; he has brown eyes instead of Quinn’s blue eyes. Evan’s hair is light brown and barely has a wave vs Quinn’s dark brown curls. 

You quickly take note that Evan is more talkative and has a bigger personality than Quinn. He doesn’t seem to like silence and is always asking you more questions about yourself even as you try to look over the menu. Then you realize that if you truly want to get over Quinn, you’ve to stop comparing Evan to him.

That's when you guys hit it off. You realize he’s really funny and also understands your humor. You both have a lot in common too. You can’t stop smiling throughout the rest of the night. 

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

After your dinner you both don’t want the date to be over just yet so you decide to take a walk down the street to continue your conversation. You have no idea how long you guys have been together, but haven’t gotten bored of each other for the night.

You stumble across an ice cream shop, and both note how much you love ice cream. And even though it’s freezing outside you both decide to get some to end the night. After you finish you both decide to call it a night and He walks you back to your car.

Know It’s for the better

Know It’s for the better

Know it’s for the better

“I hate to say it this way, but I didn’t think I could have this much fun on a date,” Evan says looking down at you.

“No me too, but I had an amazing time.”

“Do you want to go out again soon? I don’t know what your schedule looks like, but-” Evan rambles on and you decide to cut him off.

“I would love to. I’ll let you know when I’m free,” You say with a smile.

You get in the car and can wipe the grin off of your face as you drive home. You get ready for bed and almost want to text Elias, but know he’s with the team and didn’t want to interrupt their fun. 

Know it's for the better

I never grew up with you

And you’re not my waiting room

The next day you go into the office with your smile still wide. You see Megan in the parking lot and walk in together telling her about your date. 

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too” Megan squeals and tells you she’s so excited for you. 

Little did you know that Quinn was nearby and heard everything. You spot him not thinking much about it and he gives you a small smile. You realize that your life will continue on after your crush on Quinn and you’re ok with that.

#quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x y/n #nhl #quinn hughes fic #vancouver canucks fic #Spotify

[topguncortez]

The Origin of Honeybee

pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female Reader (OC: Bea Clark) word count: 3.5k warnings: angsty, smutty, language, teen pregnancy, religious trauma themes Bob & Bea Masterlist | Opposites Attract Masterlist

It was a fairy tale love story. The two high school sweethearts who were never seen apart. But, it had started before that fateful day in junior year when Bob found the bravery to ask you out officially. He knew you were going to be his from the first day you walked into his father’s 5th grade classroom. You had started the school year late, beginning in October. Your mom had taken over for a teacher who decided to quit during the school year. Mr. Floyd had introduced you to his class, and Bob couldn’t take his eyes off you. 

You were mesmerizing, your eyes hidden behind a pair of blue glasses, your hair in pigtails which you had fought your mom on saying that they made you seem too little kiddish, and the most noticeable, a bright pink cast on your right arm. You had taken the only open seat, right next to Bob, by his father’s desk. You two didn’t say anything, paying attention to the math lesson his dad was teaching. It wasn’t until you went to lunch, you sat at the only empty table, opening your purple lunch box and pulling out the PB&J your dad had packed. Bob walked over to you, you looked up at him,

“Can I sit with you?” He asked shyly and you nodded. He sat across from you, opening his Superman lunch box. The two of you sat in silence for a couple moments, eating your home lunches until Bob spoke up. 

“I’m Bobby,” Bob introduced himself softly.

“Beatrice, but everyone calls me Bea,” You said.

“What happened to your arm?” He asked.

“Fell off a four wheeler at my grandma’s house,” You said wiggling your fingers, “They had to put a metal rod in,”

“Are you serious?” Bob asked, his blue eyes wide. 

“So serious,” You said with a smile. The two of you didn’t separate for the rest of the day, getting to know one another. At the end of the day, Bob walked over to you, he didn’t say anything but held up a black magic marker. You nodded and held out your casted arm, and in very scribbly handwriting Bob wrote his name.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

It was from that point on, the two of you were inseparable. No one ever saw Bob without Bea, and vice versa. They had moved on from playdates after school, to begging parents and older siblings to take them to the roller rink, to sneaking sips of alcohol at Bob’s older brother Ben’s legendary bon fires. You were lucky to have someone by your side to battle that awkward first of high school, where everyone was starting to change, but they never seemed to change. The only change was that Bob’s father had died your freshman year. You sat by his side the whole time during the funeral, holding his hand and occasionally wiping a tear from his face. 

“Have you been asked to homecoming?” Ben asked you, as he sat on the couch in the Floyd family basement. 

You shrugged, you were shy, no one had noticed you outside of your friends. You had gotten braces over the summer, and were constantly checking the wires on your teeth in the screen of your phone. You had also started the joyous life of being a woman. Puberty had hit both you and Bob. You guys had now started to move into that awkward phase of life, where you were trying to figure out what was happening and if you found someone else attractive or if it was just the newly released hormones.

“Well since it’s your first homecoming, I’ll take you. . . and Bob.” Ben said and glared at his younger brother who was setting up his model train set. 

Bob was thankful that Ben had asked you to go with both of them. It made it easier for him to suppress his feelings a little longer. The only person who he confided in about how he felt was Ben. Bob wasn’t jealous of your relationship with his brother, your and Ben’s relationship was brother-sister. You constantly butt heads but would make up with a joke or buying the other food. Ben had purposely ditched the two of you at Homecoming to dance with Megan Stevens, making you and Bob have to not only talk to each other alone, but dance with each other too.

Freshman year fall faded into the summer, and the boys were busy working on the ranch. You hardly saw the two of them unless you were helping their mother Elizabeth cook dinner, or they needed your help with something. While Bob was sweating in the sun every day, you tried out for the cheer team and made it. You had fallen in love with the varsity quarterback, Logan Brooks, and had decided to join the cheer team. You got your braces off and had figured out a good hair care routine. Your new found confidence was radiant, and the boys could see it.

Much to Bob’s dismay, you had started to slip away from him, spending more time with your new cheer friends and boyfriend. Bob had fought his shyness and stood next to his older brother in the front row of the stands during every football game. Ben knew that Bob didn’t care much about the team, but was there to watch your bright smile as you cheered along the side lines. 

“I don’t even understand football,” Bob said.

“It's easy,” Ben said, explaining the game to him, but Bob absent mindedly nodded along, his eyes looking at you cheering in front of him. 

“If you don’t ask Bea to prom this year, I’m gonna ask her,” Ben said, snapping Bob out of his daze.

“What? Why would you do that? And what makes you think she won’t go with Logan?” Bob said.

“Cause Logan’s eyes aren’t staring at Bea’s ass right now,” Ben said and pointed towards the quarterback, who’s eyes were looking at another girl. 

Bob grimaced and frowned. He saw the way you smiled and hugged Logan’s sweaty frame as he walked off the field after winning. Bob also saw the way Logan was looking at another girl from the other team, as you talked to him about how good he did during the game.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

“I don’t even know what I did wrong?” You cried, rubbing your nose with a crumbled up Kleenex. Ben was standing in the doorway to his and Bob’s room, as you sat on Bob’s bed. Some sad song was playing on the record player and Bob was handing you more Kleenex. 

Logan had started to be secretive and distant. He was constantly on his phone, hiding it from you. The nicknames and PDA had stopped, and so did most of the daily conversations between the two of you. It wasn’t until you went to deliver him some cookies for his birthday that you had spotted the white BMW in the driveway. He opened the door, shirtless and light bruises covered his abs and collar bone. He didn’t even have to say anything, but you knew. Logan had called out to you as you threw the cookie dish at his car and flipped him off walking away.

“We should go egg his house,” Ben said, “Or go all Carrie Underwood with a Louisville slugger,”

“Ben,” Bob said and shook his head no, “He’s an idiot, honeybee.” The nickname that Elizabeth had given her years ago fell so easily from Bob’s lips, “He didn’t even realize how lucky he was to have you,” You looked up at Bob, those E/C that he had fallen in love with wet with tears. He sat next to you on your bed, his arm thrown around you, while Sam sat in your beanbag chair, “You want to watch a movie?”

“Tommy Boy?” You asked, it was your favorite movie, you could almost quote it word for word.

“Well, thank you both for the invite but I gotta go pick up Olivia for our date,” Ben said, winking at his younger brother. Ben came and kissed your forehead, “It’ll all be okay, Bea. But if you wake up and see my face on the front page for egging or slashing a hole in all four tires, it was for a good cause,”

You laughed at the boy and Bob said goodbye to his brother. You two settled in, watching the movie. At some point in time you had both fallen asleep, but when you woke up, Bob’s arms were wrapped around your waist and your head was on his chest. It was then that you realized that you were falling in love with your best friend.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

There was an obvious shift between the two of you. Everyone could see it, Bob’s siblings, Ben, your parents, Bob’s mom. It was just a matter of time until you two could see it. You both felt the love you had for each other, but both were too stubborn and scared to act on it. It wasn’t until you brought home another boy that Bob knew his window of opportunity was closing. So while you were walking around, pacing the basement floor ranting about whatever his name was, Bob stood up.

“Bea, he doesn’t deserve you. None of them do,” Bob said, “Does he even know your favorite flower? Or what color do you prefer of your favorite flower?”

“No but-“

“It’s orange roses,” Bob said, “You said you hate the cliche white and red, that you prefer orange but will settle for yellow. You fell in love with them when your grandma accidentally planted an orange rose bush when she got sick with dementia. She tried to dig them up, but your grandpa told her that they were unique and beautiful just like she was. You said that was the moment you believed in true love.”

You looked at Bob, his honey brown eyes staring into yours. Your body moved quicker than your brain, and you grabbed his face, connecting your lips together. He grabbed your hips, pulling you into him as you both melted into the kiss. It was like time stopped, and fireworks exploded behind you.

“Ah!” Ben yelled, opening the basement door, “Mom! It’s happening!” He smiled and ran over to go get his mom, leaving the two teens who now had deep red blushes across their cheeks.

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

You and Bob seemed to be even closer than ever before. Like always, where anyone saw Bob, you were surely to follow. When they told their friends that they had finally started dating, everyone let out a sigh in relief followed by a “finally”. It seemed as though you and Bob were the only ones who were oblivious to the love that you both had for each other. 

Prom was supposed to be the most important night of a young girl's life, but you were absolutely terrified. You had been hyper fixating on your dress and thinking of all the things that can go wrong when you put it on. Your mother did your hair, deciding to curl it and leave it down. Your dress was black, you went for simple (partially because it was what you could afford). Bob was just as nervous as you as he sat on your couch, your dad staring him down. He held onto the plastic box with your corsage with all his might. He was sure that he was sweating through the rental tux. The moment he heard your mother come down the stairs and he stood up, his blue eyes going wide. 

“My god, honeybee,” Bob sighed out and your father glared at him. Bob walked from the couch over to the bottom of the stairs and held his hand out for you. You smiled and took his hand, “You’re gorgeous.” 

“Thank you,” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “You clean up nicely.” 

“Oh, Bea, be nice to that boy,” Your mom said, “Get close for pictures!” 

You probably took a thousand pictures in front of your fireplace. Your face was hurting from smiling so much. Bob had spent all morning cleaning his truck so you didn’t get your dress dirty. He helped you get into the old Ford, making sure that no part of the dress would get stuck in the door. Your mom smiled fondly at the two of you as you drove off. 

“They’re going to get married someday,” Your dad muttered and looked at his wife, “He looks at her the way I look at you.” 

“I know,” Your mom said and kissed her husband. 

You and Bob danced until your feet hurt and he ended up carrying you in his arms back to his truck at the end of the night. There was too much excitement in the air to just go home and go to sleep, so instead, Bob drove you out to the old Oak tree in the middle of his family’s ranch. The night was clear and you could see all of the stars from where you laid in the back of his truck. He put a blanket down so you wouldn’t dirty your dress and you would be somewhat comfortable. 

Though stargazing only lasted so long, and soon enough you were in a heated make out session in the back of Bob’s truck. His hands were grazing all over your body as if he couldn’t get enough of you. Your hands tugged on his long locks, his curls curling a bit under his ears. You loved his longer hair, you thought it made him look perfectly older. 

“Bob,” You moaned as he kissed your neck. 

“Yeah?” He asked, grinding his hips into yours. 

“Make me yours,” You said barely above a whisper. Bob pulled away from you and looked at you. 

“Are-are you sure?” He asked, caressing your cheek, “We don’t have to do anything just cause it’s prom night. Hell, that’s such a dumb-” You cut him off by kissing him. 

“Bobby,” You said, holding his jaw with your hand, “Make me yours.” 

“Don’t gotta tell me twice, honeybee,” Bob said, his voice a bit raspy as he leaned back in and kissed you. You guys fell into a frenzy of roaming hands and kisses, stripping each other of your clothes. You guys looked at each other, having to see each other naked and being intimate for the first time. You laid under Bob, eyes roaming all over his body, “You are even more perfect than I imagined,”

“You imagined me?” You smirked and Bob blushed.

“Once or twice,” He said and leaned in to kiss you, “Do you want to do this?” He asked you again, his blue eyes full of love.

“Make me yours, Bobby.”

— — — 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 🌼🐝 — — — 

You had been sicker than a dog for nearly three weeks. Bob was starting to worry when you missed yet another day of school, but you were just too weak to even climb out of bed. He had gathered your homework and planned on stopping by to give it to you after school. But the frantic text from you had him rushing into the parking lot and speeding to get to you. 

You were sitting on the couch in tears when he arrived, your mother and father sitting across from you. Bob felt like he just walked into the middle of an intervention, the air was thick with tension. He called out for you, but you shook your head and your father stood up from his chair. 

“Robert Floyd,” Your father’s voice was gruff and all Bob could do was nod, “You got my little girl pregnant?” Bob’s head snapped to you and you seemed to be crying harder than before. 

“I’m so sorry,” You cried and Bob looked back at your dad and nodded. Your mom let out a gasp and left the room quickly, not being able to look at you any longer. 

Your father ran a hand down his face and then put his hands on his hips. His eyes looked at you, “Get out of my house, Beatrice.” 

“Daddy,” You stood up from the couch.

“Wait, Mr. Clark-” 

“You disobeyed the bible!” Your father’s voice was loud and rattled you to your core. Bob watched as you began shaking like a leaf in the wind, “I will not have a sinner and a bastard child under my roof! Look what you did to your mother!” Your dad pointed to the direction your mother went crying, “Gather your things, and get out of my house.” 

Your father stormed out of the room, leaving you and Bob alone. Bob quickly rushed to your side and wrapped you up in his arms. You held onto him tightly, afraid he might disappear on you. Sobs racked your body as Bob tried to shush your tears. 

“Shh, honeybee, breathe,” Bob said, rubbing your back. He couldn’t help the tears welling up in his eyes at the sound of your cries. He wasn’t 100% sure what was going on other than the fact that you were possibly pregnant and your parents had just kicked you out. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” You said and Bob pulled back from you. He gently held your face in his hands and wiped your tears away with his thumb, “I didn’t mean for this to happen, Bobby, you have to believe-” 

“I’m not blaming you for anything,” Bob shook his head, “Is what your dad said true? You’re pregnant?” 

You nodded and sniffled, “I haven’t been feeling good for weeks, and I missed my period. I drove to Davis to the drug store and got a pregnancy test and it came back positive. I’m sorry.” 

“Hey, quit apologizing, alright,” Bob said and kissed your forehead, “We’re gonna get through this, together. I’m not leaving you.” 

“What about the Navy? Bob, you have been dreaming of that since you were a kid.” One of  the first things Bob had told you back in the fifth grade, while you dangling upside down from the monkey bars was that he wanted to join the Navy. His dad had been in for a couple years to pay off his student debt, and he loved it. Bob had grown up watching air shows in Virginia beach during the Fourth of July. 

“I’ll figure it out. Whatever you want,” Bob said, and took both your hands in his, “You and this baby are my future, okay,” You nodded and bit your lip as brand new tears threatened to spill. 

“I have no place to go,” You cried and Bob shook his head. 

“Yes you do,” He said, “What do you need? I’ll go get it.” You rattled off a couple items that you can think of off the top of your head and Bob ran up to your room and packed you a bag. Your parents were hiding in the kitchen, far away from you and Bob. They must’ve really been ashamed of you if they couldn’t even say anything as Bob guided you out to his truck. 

The ride to the Floyd ranch was painfully silent. You looked out the window the whole time, resting your hand on your stomach. Bob would steal glances over at you every once in a while. You had stopped crying which was a plus, but your cheeks and nose were still red. When you pulled up in front of the old farmhouse, Bob jogged around to your side of the truck and helped you out. He held your hand the whole time as you walked into the house, the smell of dinner hitting both of your noses. You both could hear Elizabeth Floyd yelling at her younger kids, and the squeals of children running around. 

“Allison Floyd, if you don’t stop messing with your sister!” Elizabeth’s voice was firm as you and Bob walked into the kitchen. She took one look at you and knew what was going on. Call it a mother’s intuition. 

“She needs a place to stay. . . for a while,” Bob said and Elizabeth nodded. 

“You can take Benny’s room down in the basement,” Elizabeth said. You nodded and took your bag from Bob’s hands and made your way down to the familiar room that the eldest Floyd child once inhabited. When you were out of ear shot, Elizabeth looked at her son, “Her parents found out?” 

“Yeah,” Bob said, placing his hands on the back of the chair in front of him, “Kicked her out. I didn’t even know until I got there”

“And what are you gonna do? You gonna step up?” 

Bob nodded, “Of course. That’s my baby. I’m not gonna leave her high and dry. I’ll do whatever she wants to do.” 

“You better not, Robert Floyd. I raised you better than that. Now,” Elizabeth said and walked over to the pantry. Bob watched her a bit confused until she walked out with a sleeve of saltine crackers and a ginger ale, “Go give these to her. Poor girl looks like she hasn’t kept anything down in days.” 

Bob nodded again and took the items from his mom’s hands, “How did you know?”  

Elizabeth sighed, “Cause I had that same look on my face when we told your grandparents I was pregnant with Ben. Now go on, no time for questions.” 

“Thank you,” Bob said and went downstairs to find you.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd fan fic #bob floyd fan fiction #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x oc #Robert floyd #Robert bob floyd #bob & bea #opposites attract things! #top gun #top gun fan fic #top gun fan fiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fan fic #top gun maverick fan fiction #top gun maverick imagine

[pparadiselost]

the death of a wallflower.

university professor hinata shoyo x university student fem reader your crush on the hot new professor gets out of hand. warning(s): nsfw, unhealthy relationship dynamic (teacher x student), named best friend oc, reader has an unnamed ex, pov change for one of the scenes, non-virgin reader, use of american university setting minors do not interact.

XX UNIVERSITY

XX SEMESTER

WEEK 2

“no, like, our new professor is seriously so hot. like, forget-your-shitty-ex kinda hot. ugh, just wait till you’re in class! you have to believe me!”

minnie’s words echo like the foreshadowing of some porno as you gather yourself outside of the classroom. leave it to your roommate and self-proclaimed best friend to describe the newest professor at your university as “hot,” when most of the faculty are pushing 70 and have the self-awareness of a brick. you honestly have no reason to be this nervous before lecture, but while it might be the start of a boring week two of the semester for your scholarly peers, it’s your first day.

it’s also just your luck to end up with the world’s most horrendous stomach bug right before the semester started. after a few heated email exchanges and a lot of heavy-lifting from minnie, your advisor and dean begrudgingly excused you from classes until you were feeling better.

and now here you are. you took the liberty of showing up to class just a few minutes early to try and talk to your professor to see what exactly you missed, and maybe find a seat. you assumed at this point everyone had their unofficial “official” seats, and you were praying that you could score one somewhere close to minnie.

whatever.

you shake your head like a dog to clear whatever doubts tumbling around in your skull. you’ve dealt with your share of mean professors before, and between forcing yourself to go to class and puking on the floor and dealing with whatever screaming gripe they’ll give you now, you had sagely decided the latter was the better option.

you brace yourself, and you tiptoe into the classroom.

the door squeaks open, and you shuffle inside, almost scared to see what’s on the other side of the door. the classroom is empty, unsurprisingly, and the fairly sized classroom zooms in on a central point: at the professor’s desk. a bag is slumped next to it, and some papers are placed into somewhat neat piles on the desk. a projector illuminates the blackboard behind with its default display.

“ah, welcome in! you’re early!”

you nearly jump out of your own skin at the energetic voice that greets you. standing a few paces from the desk is a young man, dressed crisply in a white button down and formal pants. your eyes crawl up his physique, trailing over the undone button at his throat and the sleeves tastefully rolled up to reveal his toned arms. they’re all classically handsome features, but nothing to write home about—nothing a quick swipe on tinder won’t satiate. 

you step a bit closer. “uh- good morning… i’m a student in your class. i think i emailed you about this a while back, but i was the one that got really sick last week and couldn’t come in.”

you braced yourself for the tirade that you were so used to, the mountain of homework and make up lectures that were bound to be awaiting you. god, you weren’t some kind of study freak, but no one ever likes starting the semester on the wrong foot, especially when that wrong foot means making up a week’s worth of classes all across the board. 

except the tirade never really comes. the man laughs, “so that’s who you are! gotcha, gotcha. well, i can say for sure that it’s much better to see you in person rather than the little yearbook picture i have on my class roster. um… minerva, was it? she said she’d fill you in on the notes that you’ve missed.”

you perk up. “yeah, minnie’s my roommate. and she’s helped me catch up the best she can.”

“awesome! it’s good to hear students helping each other. i mean, that’s what having classmates and roommates is all about anyway,” he continues. you can’t help but notice the charm in his voice, the light rhythm that makes it feel like he’s dancing with his words rather than rambling. “reminds me of my own roommate. tall guy. super awkward. only cared about volleyball. he had this god awful middle part that chased away any girl that remotely found him attractive.”

you fight back a small giggle. he was funny. “i’m glad to say that minnie isn’t anything like that. if anything, i’d say she’s the opposite…”

“oh?” your professor quickly quips. “bit of a boy magnet, is she? i’m just messing with you. but yeah, like i said, it’s lovely to finally meet you. if you have any troubles, don’t ever feel scared to reach out to me. i’d rather that i know what’s going on than to be left guessing, and i promise you whatever ‘stupid’ thing you’re worrying about, i’ve definitely done dumber in my own undergrad years. sound cool?”

your eyes trail upwards again, from the outline of his small waist and broad chest. your mind wanders momentarily, wondering what his workout routine must be. you gloss over his smooth face, marveling at the smooth skin and the sunshine-like smile that tickles his mouth. he really couldn’t be that much older than you, despite being a professor, and if you saw him on the streets, outside of this academic setting, you would have never guessed him to hold such a position of authority with a face this young. his eyes are just like yours, lively but with a tinge of timidness that invites you to probe a bit deeper, a bit closer. and his hair: it’s the most beautiful, sensual shade of sunset orange.

it isn’t like your breath is being taken away in one fell swoop. rather, it feels like he’s coaxing it from you, stealing it away subtly so that you’re left to lean in, fiending for it like a fish caught out of water. 

your gaze meets his, and you’re shoved back down to the correct plane of reality. fuck—you were not about to be caught staring like a creep at your professor on day one on all days…!

you nod shakily. “it’s nice to meet you too, professor-”

“-hinata,” he finishes, beaming even wider at you. “although, i told the class they can call me shoyo if they want to. i’m still pretty new to the whole teaching thing, so being called ‘professor’ feels a bit weird.”

“ah,” your voice drops in volume a tad, “i’m personally more comfortable with ‘professor’, so i’ll stick to that, i think. if it’s okay.”

he holds his hand up in mock surrender. “totally chill. whatever rocks your boat. if you don’t have any more questions, then make yourself comfortable. i think minnie tends to sit… over there, if you wanna get settled down. i know you already got the notes from her, but i promise you didn’t miss much in the first week, so don’t sweat anything.”

“thank you!” you breathe, getting ready to turn on your heel and march to the area professor hinata pointed out. something inside your rib cage trembles as if shocked with electricity, an anticipation for a breath of fresh air that only the beginning of a new semester could bring. you don’t know what to call it exactly. it isn’t quite excitement nor is it giddiness, but a liminal middle ground in between all of it where dread, the need for poise, and opportunity intermingle.

“hey.” 

you glance over your shoulder at the sound of your professor’s voice. your professor grins at you, and in that split second, at you alone. his eyes twinkle fondly.

your breath catches in the back of your throat. 

“let’s have a good semester together, you and i.” 

the brown of his irises feel as if they’re going to swallow you whole. 

you tear your eyes away. 

…

…

…

“sooooooooo,” minnie practically slams your dorm room’s door shut and corners you in the small excuse of a room that you call home while at school. her eyes are brimming with the mischievous glimmer that you know all too well, and she stares you down with the most expectant look on her face. “isn’t the new professor hot? exactly like i told you?”

you dump your bag on the ground, crawling into your bed and immediately finding your place under the sheets. it’s been a long first day for you, and despite feverishly praying to whatever divinity was up above that the rest of your professors would be as kind as professor hinata was, it looks like your calls went wholly unanswered.

you massage the slight ache in your shoulders. “i mean, yeah, he’s an attractive man, and i guess he’s pretty nice. but nothing super out of the ordinary.”

minnie sticks her tongue out, and she pretends to boo you. she huffs her chest out and plants her hands squarely on her hips, clearly not impressed by your review of the new eye candy she’s scoped out. “you’re no fun! i bet you’re only saying this because you’re still hung up about that pathetic scum of a human being you call an ex. c’mon! the best way to get over a shitty boy is to simply find another one!”

something inside your chest twinges with a dull ache, and you flop back onto your bed. “as much as i would love to share your optimism, i don’t think hopping from one boy to another will make me feel any less shitty about this breakup.”

“well, you gotta give me something to work with! and besides,” she sidles up to the side of your bed, and she leans in close to your face, as if she’s whispering a secret to you. “professor hinata isn’t a boy. he’s a man.”

you hold back the urge to throw a pillow at your roommate. you’re grateful that you have minnie to get you out of your own mind sometimes, but at the same time, she better be grateful that she has you to ground her to reality. 

“he’s our professor, minnie!” you pretend to scold her, but you fail at holding back an exasperated smile. “i’m all for you homie hopping through whatever ligma sigma dickma frat you’ve got your eyes on, but faculty are strictly off limits!”

“hey, be nice to me!” she laughs back, reaching over to poke at your cheeks. “doesn’t professor hinata look super young though? like he can’t be that far off from our age. that doesn’t make it that bad, does it?”

you shake your head. “i don’t care how old he is! pursuing your professor is a huge no-no!”

“ughhhhh! i’m trying to find the silver lining for you here! i’d much rather you drool over your hot professor than mope around in bed over your ex all day, okay? besides, it’s not every semester that we get to have a class together AND have a professor that doesn’t dress like fucking paddington,” she groans dramatically. she’s basically swooning at this point, acting as if the notion of a new, handsome romantic prospect for her to chase after and you being disinterested is the end of the world for her. you’re used to this song and dance by now, and you know she’s being theatrical just to get on your nerves. 

it’s funny to you. minnie has a talent for making you laugh over the stupidest things. you barely stifle back a giggle. “leave paddington out of this! the poor guy has done nothing wrong.”

“you get my point!”

you settle back into your cozy spot on your bed, snuggling into your sheets. you don’t want to open up the can of worms that catching up on homework would be just yet, and as fantastical as minnie’s romantic endeavors could be, they make for a good distraction from all the responsibilities you don’t want to face yet. she glances at you lovingly, her fingers drumming against your rackety bed frame.

“but you do think he’s hot, yeah?” she starts. you snort.

“i said i found him to be an attractive man but nothing special, minnie.” you chew over your words, and your eyes flicker up to the white expanse of your ceiling. your mind conjures up images of your new professor, and the relief you had felt when he had treated you so warmly.

he was such a sunny young man, and true to minnie’s guess, probably not that much older than you were. most definitely fresh out of school and figuring things out for himself, your quick interaction with him before class felt more like talking to a classmate or a teacher’s assistant at best, rather than a well-educated professor trying to test his craft and wrangle throngs of antsy college students. you liked talking to him. 

“i’d say he’s more charismatic than hot,” you offer up. minnie guffaws at your answer, and it’s her turn to roll her eyes.

“fine, fine, i get it! you’re not going to bite at whatever temptation i throw at you. that’s my roommate for you, always the toughest nut to crack,” she sighs and shakes her head at you as if you’re hopeless, but you know she means well. there’s nobody else in the world who would care for you like this, go this much out of her way to make sure you don’t feel alone. 

it’s almost enough to dispel the thoughts of your new professor from your mind. 

almost.

your heart softens around the edges when your mind pushes the image of him alone with you into your mind. just that one cadence, no longer than thirty seconds at most, when it was only the two of you in that empty classroom, with no other soul in the room to shield you from the incoming stranger wedging his way into your life—just you and him, caught in that suspended moment.

he’s still so beautiful in your memory. 

“-anyways,” minnie’s loud voice jostles you from your thoughts. heat rushes to your face in embarrassment, as if you had been caught doing something bad red-handed. she doesn’t seem to notice, and you choke back your guilt on losing track of yourself over your new professor in favor of whatever minnie’s spouting next. she purses her lips in thought. “i’m feeling kinda peckish, so what do you say about getting takeout for dinner?”

“we have food in our fridge,” you curtly remind her.

she groans in utter defeat, flopping onto you over the side of your bed. “you’re such a goody two shoes! what in the world will ever get you to break?”

…

…

…

WEEK 4

what in the world, indeed. 

you fidget listlessly inside professor hinata’s office. you’ve never seen him with glasses before, but a pair is perched slightly crooked on his nose as he clicks at the big monitors on his desk, probably pulling up whatever answer you scrawled out on the google form he had sent out a few days prior. you’ve always been a little antsy whenever meeting with a professor in general, but make it a mandatory one-on-one meeting with a certain professor that seems to make your heart act up and you’re vibrating so hard that you might as well cause an earthquake.

“so…,” he starts, skimming your response, “i really like what you wrote here. think you can tell me more about what you have planned for your final project?”

you lick your lips and swallow, and you’re suddenly aware of how dry your mouth is. “uh, yeah. i’m sure minnie’s already told you most of it-”

you stop dead in your tracks when professor hinata raises a hand, cutting you off. you pause, a prickle of dread swirling in your stomach.

he smiles apologetically. “sorry, i really don’t like interrupting students. but this is your final project, and i want to hear your ideas. not minnie’s. i know you wrote that you two want to do it as a pair, and that’s fine. but your ideas are just as valuable as yours are, and this time is reserved so i can pick at your brain, not hers.”

“r-right…,” you murmur. your heart flutters the slightest bit when you realize he’s paying special attention to you, but you shut any excitement down immediately. you were a goddamn adult and a college student. what kind of person would you be if you couldn’t hold it together around your professor, who 100% without a doubt saw you as a pupil? you mentally scold yourself for finding your instructor’s undivided attention appealing.

“like you said,” you start up, your voice still quiet, “i thought it’d be nice to do a joint research thing with minnie, and we wanted to focus on our campus’ experience with single versus shared dorm life. we figured something like that would be easy to find professional data for on a much larger scale, so we can compare and contrast with our own findings.”

he hums to himself. you keep your eyes fixed on a point on the wall behind him, not wanting your eyes to wander. it isn’t like professor hinata always comes to class impeccably dressed in a suit and tie or anything, but he also has a horrendously good sense of fashion that makes you instinctively shy away a bit. he’s dressed nicely today too: in a sweater with a white button down underneath that peeks over the collar of the sweater and what should be loose black pants that fit tightly around his thighs. you hate yourself for noticing these details. 

“that sounds like a pretty solid plan to me. i like how far you’re thinking ahead. research like this usually takes a lot of time and energy, so it’s good to have a vision for what you plan to do at the end. do you have any thoughts as to how you’re going to collect data? i suppose reaching out to housing would help with pure numbers, but for tackling the more social and emotional parts, you’ll need to do that yourself.” 

you’re keenly aware of when he glances towards you, his gaze burning into you like a magnifying glass held up to the sun. god, you shouldn’t be so on edge around him, and yet something about how casual he is with you and just how sweet he is with you makes you that much more stiff. you don’t dare meet his eyes.

maybe it’s that vulnerable intimate one-on-one that’s making you so much more aware of his presence, or maybe it’s the close confines of his office, but you know you’re going to waver if you make eye contact with him. 

“minnie and i wanted to conduct physical surveys. we were planning on contacting the different r.a.s of each housing building and asking the school for the information to off campus housing managers. that way we can distribute questions as far as we can,” you recited stately. “we even considered maybe putting in a raffle reward for responses, which would incentivize people to actually respond instead of ignoring it.”

professor hinata whistles. “i’m impressed. you two have really thoroughly thought all of this through! you never fail to impress me with how much attention to detail you put with your schoolwork. i wish all of my students were as diligent as you were sometimes.”

you bite down on your tongue, and it takes all of your willpower to not let some kind of fucked up glee swell inside your chest. “thank you, professor. the idea was originally minnie’s idea, but i was the one that really did most of the work ironing out the kinks.”

he laughs heartily. “i can imagine. between the two of you, i can tell that you’re the more responsible one by a long shot. don’t get me wrong: minnie’s a wonderful student. but at the end of the day, it’s still you cleaning up her messes, isn’t it?”

“yeah,” you bashfully admit. you can’t even count the number of times you’ve been the one to pick her up from her drunken escapades or be the one to force her into bed after holding her hair while she pukes. as much emotional stability as she gives you, she does need a tad bit of mothering. “but she’s still a great friend. i couldn’t ask for a better roommate. we might have opposite personalities, but we balance each other out perfectly, i think.”

“that’s good to hear! it’s always nice to know my students are getting along. especially quieter ones like you.” he leans forward in his seat, almost as if he’s whispering a secret to you. “us professors aren’t allowed to have favorites, but it’s human nature to always root a little for the well-behaved underdogs.”

you swallow a bit more harshly. there’s a lump in your throat. you really, really need to do something about whatever you feel towards your professor, because you know deep down that it’s wrong to keep wanting his attention like this. he’s being friendly and watching out for you, because he knows you’re the plain mouse-like student amongst a sea of wild young adults carving their way in the world. he’s only helping you, only complimenting you because he’s genuine and wants to see you do well, and you’re hoarding that attention and craving it like a man starved.

“she’s done a lot to get me where i am right now,” you admit, wanting to deflect. “i broke up with my now ex-boyfriend over the summer, and she did so much to make sure i was doing okay. i know you probably don’t care that much about messy college student drama, but… she has my back until the end.”

he raises an eyebrow. “i don’t mind. trust me, professors love hearing about student drama as much as the students do. also if it helps me get to know you better, then it doesn’t hurt, does it? having more information, no matter how silly, is better than knowing nothing about you at all.”

“i mean, it really is silly.” you’re trying very hard not to look him in the face. your eyes flit everywhere but, looking at your hands, the neckline of his sweater, the peeling wallpaper, anything. “i really liked that guy, and he ran off and cheated on me. i caught him red handed and did the right thing by confronting him and immediately breaking things off, but it’s not like you can wake up and decide that you don’t like someone anymore, no matter how awful he was to me.”

“i’m sorry that happened to you. it’s never fun to feel betrayed by someone you trusted, especially romantically.” he taps his fingers together.

you wave him off, shrugging. “i’m a lot better about it now! it hurts every now and then, but i’m choosing to focus on myself. i did nothing wrong, and it’s better for me to have cut him off than to turn a blind eye. and minnie’s always inviting me out to all sorts of things to take my mind off of it too.”

“that’s good. i wish i could say relationships get easier once you become an adult, but… there’s no cheat key to things like love. you gotta roll up your sleeves and do the nitty gritty work.” he feigns rolling his sleeves up, and he shakes his head. a blur of orange flickers like candle light in the corner of your eye. “even full grown adults do terrible things to each other. but just like you said, it makes you appreciate the bonds that stay true to you even through your hardships.”

“clearly,” you breathe. your voice is airy, almost strained. god, he was just so easy to spill your heart to. why couldn’t your ex be like this? professor hinata is thoughtful, intelligent, and emotionally mature. you need to step away, need to keep your distance, but even your attempts to deflect yourself away from the growing attachment you have to your instructor only ends with him expertly spinning things into his favor.

he chuckles to himself and leans back into his seat. “my mom would always say that it’s better to be single and free than to be miserable and tied down. besides, you’re only in college! the big wide world is waiting for you! i promise you, there are far better guys out there that can treat you the way you deserve to be treated. one failed college relationship isn’t going to doom you for the rest of your life, okay? take this one from your prof.”

“i’m sure.” 

you don’t doubt his words. the little resolve, the sliver of morality lingering inside your turmoiled brain, is crackling. it’s wrong to lean this forward towards your professor, to grasp and grip at the stray straws you can see, and yet, it feels so good. the heady silence that settles over the two of you is reminiscent of your first meeting with him, back to the moment when it was only you and him in the same way it is now. 

but things are different today. he knows more about you. you’ve learned to trust him. he’s always respected you, but it’s clear that he treats you like an adult on equal footing with him rather than your other professors who act as if you were born yesterday. he genuinely cares for you.

you subconsciously steel your stomach, and you sneak your eyes upwards from the hemline of his sweater. your gaze trickles cautiously over his broad chest and his neck, over the detail of his lips and nose, apple-like cheeks, before eventually meeting his inquisitive one. you unintentionally let out a choked sigh, like the wind is being squeezed out from your lungs.

his eyes light up and smile at you, as if to say “finally.” 

you can’t breathe.

you want to lean in; you want to close that impossible gap that tenses and pulses between the two of you. what kind of tension is this? something so forbidden, so magnetic, so undeniable yet unavailable for the taking… it feels like torture, to see your meek reflection staring back at you in the wide sclera and captivating brown irises of professor hinata’s eyes, and to be able to do nothing about it. this was the devastating nature of attraction, knowing that your personal insanity might amount to nothing the very instant you handed your fate over to another.

knock knock knock. 

you nearly splutter over your own inhale before jerking away back into your seat. a loud knocking noise repeats itself around the small confines of his office, and you’re left stunned, your heart hammering like a death toll inside your tense ribcage. you drop your face down to the floor, not daring to tear your eyes away from anywhere other than the anchoring, humiliating safety of the ground.

“ah, looks like our time is up. it seems like the next student is here,” professor hinata explains, much to your simultaneous dismay and relief. this isn’t a line you can cross, and yet you crossed some kind of personal boundary you set up for yourself right there when you snuck a glimpse into your professor’s eyes. 

“i-i’ll get going. thank you for the meeting,” you stammer, hurriedly grabbing your things and almost stumbling over your feet to get to the door. “i’ll keep working on my project- and uh- i’ll reach out to you if i have any questions…!”

you don’t know what kind of face he must be making, not when you don’t have the courage to look at him again. you sprint out of the door, away from the tense sparks that lay dying out into fumes between the two of you, surely a machination of your deprived brain. the hallway echoes with the sound of your footsteps as you half-run-half-speed-walk away from the office, wanting to go anywhere else as quickly as your clumsy feet would take you.

how could you be so stupid? not only do you end up blabbing about a bad breakup to him, revealing that you’re single, but you’re idiotic enough to think that his goodwill is something you can entertain into something further.

you hate to admit it.

you’re falling in love with your professor. 

…

…

…

WEEK 7

“you should go out with me this weekend.”

“i’ll think about it.”

“pleaseeeeeeee? i basically have my outfit picked out, and i’m dying to get a matching one for you! it’s been so long since you let me dress you up, and i’m itching to do something fun with you for the weekend! please? pretty please? with sprinkles and oreos and whipped cream and cherries on top?”

you groan, tempted to slam your head into your desk. “minnie, i said i’ll think about it. i’ve already seen the five million instagram dms you’ve sent me begging to go to whatever frat party is being thrown.”

“it’s sig-chi,” she reminds you, as if that’s the important part. some of the students next to you shoot the two of you odd glances, and you flash a weak smile, inwardly apologizing for minnie’s obliviousness when it came to blurting your business. it wasn’t like the entire class heard, thank god, but the noise levels weren’t high enough where you could act a bit more stealthily. you wish it was, even if it was only to spare you from whatever social embarrassment your mostly well-meaning roommate was bound to put you through.

you turn your attention back to the work you’re trying to get done. you’re grateful professor hinata gives you time in class to work on your final projects. after that fateful instance in office hours with him where you came face-to-face with your feelings, you haven’t been able to really act normally around your instructor. fearing for your own sanity, you’ve done everything you possibly can to avoid interacting with him one-on-one. it’s not like something like that is particularly difficult to do, but your heart still skips a beat and lodges itself in the back of your throat when he catches you in the hallway, greeting you with a light “good to see you!” before squeezing past you.  

your cheeks sting with heat when you think about him. you bite down only your tongue, willing for the dull pain to ground you. minnie hums absentmindedly next to you, completely unaware of the hell that she’s partially responsible for, and she taps away at her phone. 

“hey, hey, look at this! isn’t this outfit sooooo cute? it would look perfect on you! and if i order it today, it should get here in time for the sig-chi function!” she sticks her phone screen in your face, and you instinctively recoil away. 

your blood runs cold when you see the outfit she’s showing you. it’s a cute sparkly little number, except for the fact that it would cover barely anything if you were to put it on. one wrong move in it, and your whole chest and ass would be out for the world to see. and that’s not including the already exposed midriff it would entail. “it’s cute, but- i don’t know if i could wear something like that…”

“nonsense! i can see you perfectly in it! it’ll be awesome!” she quickly cuts you off. “a cute but still slutty outfit is key to every good party! i bet you’ll have all of the guys in there chasing after you in this. oh, the color will sooooo make your eyes pop, and i think i can really make your features shine with a bit of my make up too…”

you wish the ground would open up and swallow you whole. embarrassment prickles like red-hot thorns underneath your face, and you try to grab at minnie’s phone. “minnie! you know i don’t wear things like that!”

“exactly! it’s all the more reason why! i’m trying to help you make your debut on the university dating scene,” the girl responds as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “you’ll be thanking me once you have a drop dead gorgeous six foot something basketball player wrapped around your little finger. trust me, i’m the expert in these kinds of things.”

“that’s not the point!” you hiss. ugh, you should really know better than to talk reason into her during one of her frenzied rants. you have absolutely zero intention of actually going out to one of these sleazy frat parties, let alone wear a skimpy outfit in order to bait a boy! you need time and patience to heal your broken heart, not… her wild schemes. you would rather bite off your tongue than go through whatever public humiliation ritual is involved with flirting at a frat party.

“ladies,” a deep yet sunny voice cuts through your annoyed inner monologue like a hot knife through butter, “i hope we’re actually getting work done. you wouldn’t be goofing off in my class, would you?”

your blood turns into ice for the second time within minutes, and when you peel your eyes up from your desk, your fear comes true when you see professor hinata standing there. his hands are on his hips, and despite his teasingly scolding tone, he’s sporting a bright smile.

you curse yourself inwardly, and you’re mentally scrambling to make an excuse.

“professor! look at this! wouldn’t this look so good on (y/n)?” minnie’s a step ahead of you. you audibly splutter over your breath, and you shove your head into your hands. she giggles as she sticks her phone in your professor’s face, and you’ve never been more mortified in your life.

professor hinata’s eyes widen at the more-lingerie-than-actual-clothing that’s being bombarded into his eyes, and he coughs, waving his hand. “woah, i’m not sure if i’m the right person to be asking that, minnie! why don’t we save the party talk for after class?”

she pretends to be exasperated, and she jokingly rolls her eyes. “ugh, you two are hopeless! you have to help me out here, professor. i’m trying to get (y/n) to loosen up a bit and have some fun with me! isn’t it true that you feel loads better when you do a bit of dolling up?”

“well, yes, but it looks like (y/n) here isn’t too keen on that idea. take it easy on the party going, and let’s focus more on your final project. trust me when i say your deadlines will be creeping up on you fast,” he easily brushes minnie off. she smiles brightly and nods, and only then does she finally turn to her computer and start compiling her research.

you want lightning to strike you down and burn you to a crisp. you peel your head out of your hands, and your weary eyes meet your professor’s. he grins understandingly at you, and he reaches forward to squeeze your shoulder empathetically.

“...!”

you grit your teeth, your eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights as electricity courses through your body. the skin where his hand just was feels like it had been burned, thrown completely off guard by the sudden contact.

“are you doing okay?” he whispers. his voice is soft and quiet, coaxing you out of your panicked state. it’s a voice reserved solely for you, one that only you can hear, and your blood is being weighed down by figurative iron when your heart flutters. “take it easy now. don’t let her goad you into doing something you don’t want to do.”

your lips feel clumsy. “she means well. i’m fine. she talks big, but she won’t actually do anything without my express permission.”

he’s more of a danger to you than minnie will ever be. you wish you had the courage or brainlessness to blurt something like that, but the bitter revelation stays curled up into the flesh of your still tongue, burning and scalding you like the unspoken confession it is.

“that’s good to hear. take care of yourself though. if she keeps fretting over you, you’ll make me worry too, you hear?” his nose crinkles a little when he squeezes your shoulder again. did he always have freckles? or are you only noticing them now that he’s up close and you have nowhere else to focus except for his face? you hate it, hate this tension, hate the way you can’t control yourself despite knowing better.

you hang your head, forcibly tearing your eyes away from your handsome professor. you lie through your teeth. “i’ll be okay, professor.”

…

…

…

“ohhhhh, fuck…!”

shoyo double, triple, quadruple-checked to make sure that his office door was firmly locked around him. it would be the literal death of his academic career if someone were to catch him doing what he was about to do, and he wasn’t that keen on throwing aside his future just yet. 

he had made a beeline for his office the moment class let out. it took every bone in his body, every last bit of willpower he has ever known in his entire life to keep his sunny facade up and to make sure no one would see his mask slip. he can’t afford it, and yet he’s still gambling too riskily. he’s cutting it too close to safety to relax fully, but he can’t stop.

his cock twitches and strains in his pants, begging for his attention. he leans his back against the firm wooden door, his breathing shallowing as lewd images flash behind his eyes. fuck—he really should know how to control himself better than this, actually listen to the angel in his brain telling him that he should really quit being so attracted to his students.

correction: student. 

correction again: you.

his fingers unconsciously unbuckle his belt, and his pants drop down to his ankles. he grits his teeth, a strangled breath escaping his clenched teeth as he palms the prominent bulge in his boxers. it was one thing to ride out his delusions on his own, savoring the forbidden dregs of toeing the line between professionalism and a taboo romance. 

you played the part so well too. like a frightened doe that would run away if he moved too quickly, you were good at keeping your walls up and fending off his quiet advances enough. the push and pull had him reeling: part of him wanting him to do better and to act properly as a new professor should, and another wondering how much cuter you’d be bent over his desk and your pretty cunt stuffed full of his cock.

“...shit-,” he hisses as his hands slip underneath his boxers. it only takes a few strokes for his cock to fully get hard, and the cool air of the office hits his sensitive skin like a flurry of ice. heat courses through his body, and he feels awful.

he shouldn’t be doing this. he shouldn’t be getting aroused by his student and jerking off in his office, but here he was. the last straw was seeing your roommate pitch that damn slutty outfit. you looked so innocent and so sweet, clearly not a party animal, but how often did your roommate swing you around? did you get down and wild if pushed far enough? shit, was your good girl thing just a ruse to get brownie points with him?

“fuck- fuuuuck…!” he starts stroking himself, palm swiping from base to tip, squeezing his cockhead a hair. dull pleasure swirls deep inside of his stomach, and he moves his hips into his palm, the friction downright addictive.

he imagines you in that outfit, your tits and ass basically out for the world to see. maybe you’d let your friend drag you out to her silly party. maybe you’d act shy there too, skirting around the sidelines of the dance room, sipping nervously on your drink. maybe the alcohol would make your head buzz a bit and you’d get a bit bolder. maybe you’d let some douchey frat bro feel you up, that dumb bastard not knowing how good he has it by getting your attention.

shoyo groans under his breath. god, you shouldn’t be wasting your energy and time on stupid college boys. all they would do is exploit you and leave you for dead, even though you were clearly the best thing to walk into their lives. 

he thumbs over his weeping tip, moaning throatily as he presses into his slit. his chest rises and falls, the electric feeling making his knees go weak. touching himself never felt this good. nothing came close to that buzzing high of being deprived of you.

his mind doesn’t stop wandering. raunchy thoughts of you dancing floods his brain. he imagines you grinding up against him, your soft ass pressing up against his crotch. he’d buck his hips against yours, let the heat mount as his hands wander over your body, that skimpy outfit of you doing nothing to protect you from him. you’d glance back at him, feeling his strong chest up on your back, the muscles of his arms tensing when you pull him flush against you. your eyes would have that drunken haze to them, intoxicated off of whatever was in your cup and getting down and dirty with your professor. 

it reminds him of his own idiotic undergraduate days, ones he thought he matured past when he became a proper working adult. clearly not, if the thought of dancing with you and feeling you up has him furiously fisting his hard cock. 

he needs to be inside you. he doesn’t want to feel his hand on his cock anymore. he wants to ruin that pristine image you have. he wants to see you crying and moaning, going from his stellar unassuming pupil to some cock crazed slut, begging for him to fuck you harder, to fuck you deeper, completely at his mercy. he wants to see your clothes in tatters with nothing to shield you from his almost animalistic lust, for you to see him as a proper grown man who wants to pamper you as much as he wants to ruin you rather than some stuffy professor.

it’s downright problematic how much he needs you. it’s more than just wanting to fuck you. no, he’s a gentleman. he wants you to want him, even if it’s only to ease the guilt nagging at his heart. you’re too smart for your own good, and yet when you’re surrounded by all these bad apples nipping at your heels and waiting for you to stumble, it’s no wonder that you’ve become so holed in.

you simply need someone who’ll treat you right. who’ll make you shine. who’ll be a proper lover, someone that can actually step up to that mantle.

“hah- god fucking dammit…! fuck- fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck- shit…! fucking hell, god- fuck!” his grip on his cock tightens, and he thinks his body is going to break. the dopamine buzz in his mind is almost explosive, and he knows he can’t control himself for much longer. he's close, so close, egged onto the edge by fantasizing about the thought of his student in a revealing party outfit. 

what kind of scum did that make him? if his mind was any clearer, he might know, but it isn’t. all that his sex-riddled brain can make out is how badly he wants your body. he craves the weird sick satisfaction of being the one to stretch out your sweet hole with his girthy length, to fill every little bit of your womb up with pumps of his hot cum, to pleasure you so thoroughly that he’ll ruin sex for the rest of your life—unless it’s with him, of course.

you flicker behind his eyes again. your body trembles against his as he pretends he’s thrusting into you rather than his pre-cum drenched hand. your cunt quivers and tightens around him, and your face is stained with your tears. mascara runs down your cheeks, and your lipstick is smeared messily all over your mouth. your legs shake around his hips as he fucks into you, tip easily squeezing and abusing that sweet spot deep inside your body.

“what a pretty girl.” he’d praise you, take his sweet time making sure you get all the loving you deserve. “how could someone as pretty as you stay out of my sight for so long?”

the image of you in his mind bucks your hips back against him, and the pleasure that explodes around his cock has him weak in the knees. he’s so close, so close to giving you his seed, to marking you as his. he’s humping into you desperately, wanting you to feel that impeccable stretch, pierced and plowed by him, driven to madness by his infatuation.

“i’m here! i’m yours!” you pant out. you’re starstruck. smitten. everything he’s wanted.

“-kgh…!” 

warmth overtakes his entire body, and strong ropes of cum escape from him. he grits his teeth, clenching his jaw and willing himself to keep his moans to himself. he’s dead meat if he gets caught masturbating to the thought of his student in his office. cum spills out all over his office floor and coats his hands, spilling and spilling like the pent up frustration bottled away in his heart. he furiously strokes himself through his orgasm, and sparks fly in his brain, pleasure coursing through his veins like one giant shockwave.

he throws his head back, gasping for air as his cock sputters, the last drops of virile cum leaking out and covering his fingers. his cock slowly softens in his hand, and he sucks in deep inhales, the cool air soothing the heat enveloping his entire body. 

shoyo’s mind feels fuzzy and distant, like he’s been shoved out of this plane of existence temporarily. his limbs are weak, and his abs tense and coil in on itself as he forces himself to steady his breathing. his vision is blurred slightly around the edges, but the world emerges back into focus with each passing inhale and exhale.

he hasn’t even fully come down from his high, but he knows that the lack of guilt he’s feeling is wrong. he should feel bad, he should feel dirty, he should feel like he’s done something criminal. what professor jerks off to his student and doesn’t feel any sort of post-nut clarity? he swallows heavily, but the knot in his throat that should be there is nowhere to be found.

he doesn’t want to give his growing interest in you any more attention than it needs. the last thing he should be doing is fanning the flames, and just now, he fed the monster when he should be depriving it, starving it.

his gaze crests downwards, towards the pristine streaks of pearly cum all over his hand and the floor. he knows he’s beyond saving when he bitterly wishes all of it could have gone inside of you and your sweet pussy instead of being wasted on nothing.

“...let’s clean up,” he whispers to no one in particular. he hates the apathy he feels, reaching almost robotically for the kleenex he kept on his desk, not a single prick of guilt or wrongdoing stirring in his body as he moves clumsily through the aftershocks of his orgasm to rid the proof that he had even touched himself to the thought of you to begin with. you don’t have to know that he ever jerked off to you or the fact that his desire for you grows and festers like a rotten wound inside of his heart. because that is what it is in the eyes of everything that is moral and good: rotten.

but what you don’t know can’t kill you.

…

…

…

WEEK 10

you had dreaded the next mandatory meeting with professor hinata for a while now. you had done such a good job of keeping a low profile for a while now, only ever addressing your instructor when it was absolutely necessary and whatever interactions you needed so that he wouldn’t pick up on the fact that you were purposefully avoiding him.

you had also done a good job at keeping minnie’s eagerness at bay. your final project for professor hinata’s class was a very handy excuse to avoid going out to parties with her, and crunching the data also did an exceptional job at keeping you busy instead of moping about in your room alone.

you’d think at this point in the semester you’d have quit being so hung up over your ex and your general failure of a love life, but seeing that your romantic prospect was a crush on your professor that you were actively trying to get over for your own sake, clearly things weren’t looking great for you.

but this was something you couldn’t escape. you sit on your hands to keep yourself from more or less bolting out of professor hinata’s office. his eyes are glued to the monitors on his desk in good professor-like fashion, scanning over the work you’ve handed in for him to check.

you’ve done this song and dance before. you’ve been stuck in his office before, too scared to make eye contact with your professor out of fear as to your heart betraying you. you have to keep a firm grip on yourself, and you look at your professor but make it a point not to look at his face.

“man, i know i say this every time i look over your progress, but you really do outdo yourself. you deserve a pat on the back,” he remarks, smiling proudly as he leans back in his seat. “you’re definitely in a good place for where we are in the semester, and as long as you keep at it, i’d say you’ll easily get an a for your final grade.”

“thank you,” you quietly state. he’s dressed simply today, in a black turtleneck and jeans. it makes his bright orange hair stand out that much more, and you try with all your might not to stare too hard at the obvious outlines of his toned pecs and waist straining against the fabric of the sweater.

he looks good today too. you want to eat your own fist and curl up into a ball to cry. it was like for every step forward your determination took to keep yourself in check, professor hinata threw a screwball at you to make you take two steps back.

you wish things would go as smoothly as it did the last time you were here, vulnerable to his scrutiny and left with your own flimsy defenses. the same thick tension hangs in the air again, and you pray that you won’t act out of place.

“so,” his voice cuts through your thoughts, like it always does. he knows how to catch you right off guard, wedging himself right into the split-second crack in your judgment. “all i’ve got to say is that i’m excited to see your actual final all put together. your findings are going to be really interesting, and i’m also looking forward to comparing what you find against whatever conclusions minnie draws from the same data. i don’t mean to get so personal again, but the two of you are so different that i wonder if your findings will be that stark too.”

you inhale, fixing your eyes on a spot behind him as if it was ritual to ground yourself that way. “i won’t spoil too much of her stuff, but she also has some pretty cool ideas. she’s told me some things that i wouldn’t have thought to consider in her part of the project, so… just something to get you more hyped!”

he chuckles, the low cadence of his voice making your heart flutter a beat. “i’ll take your word for it. i hope she’s treating you well. i know that you know your bond with her better than i ever will, but i really hope her energetic personality isn’t too overbearing for you. you come to me if you have any issues, okay?”

“i appreciate it. but i’m fine, really. she’s a lot, i know, but she means it out of love,” you reply methodically. this isn’t the first time someone has scrutinized your relationship with her, often misconstruing her enthusiasm and your more quiet personality to her mistreating you. sure, you two don’t see eye-to-eye about everything, but you wouldn’t hold her so close if she wasn’t someone who would see things through thick and thin for you. 

he nods. “alright, i trust you. but it never hurts to be vigilant. take it from someone with a bit more life experience than you do: people can still hurt you and claim that it’s from a place of love. this isn’t to say that minnie’s a bad person, but you and i have something special. i want you to stay safe.”

something lodges in the back of your throat. your mind swirls dangerously, and you can’t think. special? you and him have something special? you almost laugh unconsciously; it’s like despite all the work you did to keep your heart under lock and key, he’s determined to burrow his way in there. 

you hate how easily you crumble. all it took him was one well timed sentence with that stupidly charming voice of his, and it made weeks on weeks of self-imposed deprivation disappear like dust.

“don’t worry, i’ve been doing a lot of work to take care of myself. do you remember that ex i told you about? after him, i did a lot of work reevaluating the people closest to me and whether or not i trusted them blindly,” you hesitate, pursing your lips and sucking your cheeks in a little. you comb over your next thoughts carefully. talking with professor hinata is a mental game of its own, and you feel like you’re playing against an impossible opponent. “there’s… definitely a more eloquent way for me to have phrased all of that, but… you get the point.”

“i do. god, you poor thing. how could anyone hurt someone like you like he did? i know i’m biased as your professor, but even then… you’re so bright and kind. he really fumbled. that’s my two cents.” his shoulders shake a bit as he laughs, the sound coming from somewhere deep inside of his chest. your stomach feels queasy, and every part of your body wants to swoon. your attraction to him is trouble. it’s fatal. 

you dig your nails into the flesh of your palms. the stinging pain does little to bring you back to your good conscience, but it’s something to focus on other than the hazy lapses in judgment that dance inside your mind. “it’s all growing pains. this is what being an adult means, doesn’t it? you said so yourself last time we talked. there’s bound to be someone better out there in the world.”

you don’t need to look at him to know that he’s looking at you. the office feels constricting and so much smaller than you remember it to be, as if the walls are actively moving in closer and keeping you trapped in there with your deathly charismatic professor. 

“yes.” his voice drops a bit in volume, and it sounds almost intimate. “yes, i did say that.”

something possesses you. it creeps in quietly, like a drop of ink dispersed into a glass of clear water. no, you shouldn’t say that; whatever was plaguing you had taken root months ago. whatever you were trying to save was just a remnant of the ruin in your head. you swallow thickly, almost like you were trying to press your logic, your goodness, your moral conscience back down into nothingness.

you lift your face. his sweet eyes are there to greet you, and they light up when you meet his gaze. his eyes are warm and welcoming, and you’re instantly entranced. he’s beautiful, insanely beautiful, and the brown color has you floored. you want to reach out and cup his face, and you want to just stare into his eyes forever. it’s like he’s a siren that’s called out to you specifically, tempting you to inch closer and to let him take you away, entranced forever. your lips start quivering. you can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t reflect and let out one last pathetic struggle to cling to what you know to be right.

maybe things would have been different then. maybe if you tried harder, you’d have picked the morally correct thing. maybe you’d walk out of professor hinata’s office unscathed, your relationship tense but still at the boundary it should be at, and you’d graduate and put your crush behind you as nothing more than a silly infatuation. 

but you don’t. some repressed part of your mind slips. the words tumble from your mouth before you can stop yourself.

“i wish it could be you.”

you instantly throw your hands over your mouth, your eyes widening in shock. regret flashes through your entire being, and your face burns with shame. professor hinata gasps softly, but he doesn’t say anything.

“sorry-,” you fumble, your stomach twisting into horrid knots. panic shoots through your brain, and you’re screaming internally at yourself. you want to say something, anything, apologize profusely, but the gears in your head won’t turn. your entire mental processes are overrun with nothing but sheer panic, and you feel like your brain has turned into a piece of useless metal. “i-i’m sorry…! i didn’t mean it like that- i wasn’t thinking… i just- i don’t know what came over me.”

“hey, hey, calm down.” he reaches forward, leaning over his desk, and a firm hand plants itself on your knee. you almost jerk away from him, like his touch would hurt you, and your professor can see the wild, feral fear in your eyes.

it’s one thing to deal with your illicit feelings on your own, but to accidentally blurt them and make them known to him? to professor hinata? the very object of your forbidden affections?

“it’s okay. it’s okay. i’m being serious, it’s alright. there’s no need to freak out.” his words cut into the blinding flurry of thoughts in your head. “talk to me, here. you good?”

you nod frantically, forcing a deep breath in through your nose. “i’m fine. i’m okay, i promise. i… please ignore what i just said.”

he retracts his hand. he swallows, and you can see his adam’s apple bob underneath the neckline of his turtleneck sweater. you should know better than to look into his eyes again, not when every time looking into his face spelled trouble for you, but when you stare up at him helplessly, he looks nothing like the bubbly, carefree professor you knew.

his pupils are blown wide open, and there’s a kind of intensity settling inside of his eyes that you’ve never seen before. his lips are parted just slightly, like he’s about to say something but the words are caught on the tip of his tongue. a shiver tiptoes down your spine. he looks like a man haunted, the once cordial candlelight-esque brown of his irises running big and reckless like a wildfire. 

you don’t recognize this side of him, but you don’t dislike it either. you lick your lips quickly, suddenly aware of your extremely dry mouth.

he lets out a deep exhale through his nose. “...i need you to listen to me.”

“i am,” you squeak back. your mind flashes back to minnie, to your superstar queen bee of a roommate. how would she navigate something like this? knowing her, she would navigate this gracefully. she could probably play it off as a joke and laugh around with professor hinata. she could bat her eyelashes and charm him, maybe pass this off as a bit of awkward flirting and walk away scot free. you’ve never had the same social grace that she manages to pull off so effortlessly. 

“i… i apologize if i’m reading too much in between the lines.” he sounds strained, as if he’s holding a part of him back. his eyes are locked onto you, honed in as if you’ll skirt away out of his sight. “but i don’t think either of us can ignore whatever it is we have going on. i want to make myself clear here. i am your professor, and you are my student. the mature, responsible thing for me to do as your instructor is to ignore your remark and to move on. if that is what you want, then i will let you walk out of my office. we can pretend nothing happened. everything that happened here stays between us.”

you pause, and you wring your hands together. you know that that’s the choice you should take. that your relegated role in this song and dance is to be the good kid and to never stray away from your place as a nobody bookworm with good grades and nothing special. and yet your mouth moves, “...is there another option?”

he clenches his jaw. he has to be at his limit, just as much as you are. you see the edge in his eyes, flaring like sparks, waiting for you to touch and him to come away burned. you don’t care. you’re hurtling straight at the point of no return, and you’re burning up, beautiful and flaming and waiting to be consumed into nothingness.

“i… we take care of this whole thing. but i want to make sure you want this as much as i do. i hope you understand the gravity of what this means for both of us. it’s very, very wrong for a teacher and a student to be in love with each other.” professor hinata takes a big breath in, and he shoves his hand through the wild tufts of his orange hair. “but if you are insistent on pursuing this route with me, so long as you’re willing to accept your responsibility, then…” 

he stops, and he whispers the last part, barely and only loud enough for your ears, “...i can’t say that i can refuse you.”

your hands curl into decisive fists in your lap. so this is where you are. these are the conditions that life has mercilessly thrown at your feet. your heart and brain are at odds with each other. your mind screams at you to think of your future, that your life would certainly be ruined if anyone would find out that you had an illicit relationship with your professor. and what about him? it would spell a certain social death for him too if he were to be found out.

but your heart begs. you’ve ignored its cries for basically your entire life now, always picking the expected thing, pushing down your own wants in exchange for the security and the safety of a quiet life. this is one time in your life that you’ve truly wanted something, truly yearned for it with your entire existence. how is it fair to deny this from yourself? haven’t you given enough up? you gave up sociability when making friends with minnie, gave up a chance at normalcy when breaking up with your ex, and now love with professor hinata?

“i know there’s a right answer, professor hinata,” you hang your head. uneasiness claws at your ribcage, but the desire bubbling up inside of you hurts even more. “but i’m sorry. i don’t think i have it in me to be good anymore.”

he waits a beat, and the silence hangs above you like the weight of a million sins. the laugh he lets out is airy, relieved. “i was hoping you’d say that. well… come here. let me have you.”

you don’t know how you don’t trip over your own feet as you get up. you walk over to him as if in a trance, looking down at your professor with shaking eyes. he looks so confident as he grins up at you, legs spread slightly in that old office chair of his, every part of him just as inviting and tempting as the day you first laid eyes on him.

you’re practically crawling into his lap, and his strong arms are around you. his mouth is instantly on yours, and you gasp, the feeling of soft lips consuming you entirely. this wasn’t your first kiss by a long shot, but it was your first kiss with him. and god, it was everything those stupid romance movies made a kiss out to be: electric, addictive, leaving you dizzy and giddy and reeling in his embrace.

you’re glad he’s there to hold you. you place your hands shyly on his chest, warmth pooling in your stomach when you can feel the strong tension of his muscles. you never realized you were this downright touch starved, basically melting into putty in his hands as he kisses you over and over again, the hushed sounds of your lips locked together and breathless pants filling the room. 

your head spins. this must be the charm of an experienced lover. his touches mold into yours, adjusting to you and making you feel as if you can put your trust wholly into him. his tongue laps at your lips, and you let him in, let him swirl his tongue deep into your mouth. you feel so full on the inside, your chest swelling with everything you’re repressed coming out now in droves. his tongue moves around yours, and your ears drink up the lewd sounds of your french kissing. 

his hands grasp at you firmly, memorizing your touch and the way your body feels under his palms. his thick thighs make for the perfect seat, and you cling to him as he kisses you. making out with him feels like an eternity but also as if no time has passed at all, whisked away into the special place meant solely for lovers, sincerely lost in your own world with him. he feels so good around you and under your skin, even better than the fleeting fantasies you might allow yourself to have.

a strand of saliva connects the two of you when he pulls away from you finally. your chest heaves as you gulp down oxygen, your fingertips shaking as you curl them into the soft fabric of his sweater. 

“you…,” he gasps, unable to tear his eyes away from your clearly shaken form, “you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do that to you.”

heat nestles deep inside your stomach. it’s wicked and possessive, but you want to be special to him. and now you know that you are, your desire to have more of him is insatiable. something throbs and pulses within your core, and it’s pitiful just how weak you are to him after a handful of well-executed kisses. fuck having any kind of stupid romance with some dumb college boy your age: none of them could even dream of leaving you this stunned and your body itching for literally anything more.

you grasp at him. “please- please, more- kiss me again… i need it- i need more-”

“-shhh, i’ve got you, pretty.” he moves in so close to your face, his lips only a breath away from yours. you’ve never had someone kiss you so carnally before, his desire emanating off of him in thick waves. you’re probably no better, begging for your hot professor to make out more with you as if his tongue wasn’t down your throat mere seconds ago and as if it isn’t his spit that’s coating your lips thickly. 

it feels right. there’s no other way for you to describe him kissing you again. his lips move so gently against yours and yet brims with a kind of brutish need. it’s like he doesn’t want to scare you away but can barely contain himself, not when he has you right where he wants you. you don’t mind. you want him to be greedy, and you want him to take you wholly. 

you’re so happy, and you love it when his tongue is in your mouth, guiding your clumsy movements. it’s lewd kissing you’ve only seen couples do through the drunken haze of some seedy frat basement during a crazy party or in a raunchy porn video, and you get it. it finally clicks inside your head why people go crazy for these kinds of things, why people lose their minds when they’re unable to fully get a grasp over their own sexual needs. it’s like an awakening for you, as if some monster that had been caged in your heart is now breaking free of its restraints.

you moan shamelessly into professor hinata’s mouth. you need more. just kissing isn’t enough, only having his tongue in your mouth isn’t enough. the pounding between your hips won’t go away, and if anything, it’s getting worse with each passing second. he’s turning you on, and your body refuses to listen to you. but why should you hold back? he’s right there for you, and you’re willing to give yourself to him without any room for regret.

“please-,” you sound so needy, so desperate, so unlike any part of the removed personality you kept around your professor. “touch me more… i need you, professor-”

“-don’t call me that,” he whispers against your mouth. “shoyo. call me shoyo. i’m not your professor right now.”

“shoyo,” the name tastes like sticky sweet honey against your mouth, “touch me, shoyo.”

his hands snake down to your waist, and he looks at you expectantly as his fingertips slip under your shirt. you shudder when his fingertips press firmly into your skin and flesh, like a reminder of what you’re getting yourself into. “good girl. do you want me to go all the way with you right now?”

“yes! god, please, yes- shoyo, take me.” you bury your head into the crook of his neck. his calming scent floods your nose, and you think you’re going into heat. “i’ve never needed someone more in my life.”

something hard presses up against your crotch. he grunts, “that’s a dangerous thing to say to me.”

you let him lift your shirt away from your body, coaxing it gently over your head before tossing it somewhere onto his office floor. your body heats up, blood pumping under your skin. you prickle slightly against the cold office air, and you bite down a bit on your tongue. his hands crawl up the expanse of your stomach and up to your chest, and he looks at you as if he’s been starved.

“god, you drive me crazy,” he breathes. your voice catches somewhere in the back of your throat. you can feel the warmth of his palms hovering over your breasts, the thin fabric of your bra doing nothing to protect you from him. “to think you’ve been hiding from me this entire time, right under my nose…”

you gasp when he gropes you through your bra, his hands molding against your breasts. you fill his palms out so easily, and you grind down against his lap, sparks flying inside of your mind. you grip onto him again, breathing needily against the crook of his neck as he plays with your chest, letting you adjust to the feeling of his heavy hands on your body. 

he touches you so sweetly and so beautifully. not like the clumsy horny ways boys your age would, but with confidence and reverence, like he purposefully wants to take his time with you. you whimper when his fingers hook into the cups of your bra, and you let him yank it down to fully free your chest. 

your pussy throbs when his hands are on your bare breasts. he massages the soft flesh, chuckling softly whenever he hears you keen and choke out a breath into his neck. his fingers find your nipples quickly, and heat flares under your cheeks and inside your gut when he pinches at them gently, your body reacting faster to his touch than your mind can.

you grind down onto his lap, feeling his hard bulge in between your thighs. you need more, need something inside you. 

he grits his teeth when he feels you trying to hump his clothed cock. “careful, sweetheart. i’m trying to take my time with you.”

his hands move to your back, fully undoing your bra and letting it drop forgotten to the floor. you don’t care. you want him all over your body. you want his calloused hands all over your tits, pinching and teasing your nipples, filling out his hands with your breasts, like your body was made to match his. 

“i know-,” you sound shaky. you are shaky, barely holding yourself together. you clench your eyes shut as he plays with your tits again. pleasure surges downwards every time he plays with your sensitive nipples, rubbing his fingertips into them or just letting the skin-to-skin contact get to your head. “i just- i can’t- i can’t control myself anymore, shoyo-”

“i got you, i got you,” he laughs. if only you could know his own madness, the insanity that runs rampant in his mind knowing that he can have you in any way he wants. “shit, and i thought i’d take it slow. be a good gentleman for you. clearly that isn’t making the cut.”

you let out a small shriek as he lifts you from his lap, and the next thing you know, you’re slumped over his desk. your bare chest is against the cold wood of his workspace, and he hovers above your back, your ass against his crotch. you whimper into his desk, and your breath fogs up against the polished wood.

your cunt clenches painfully around nothing as he grinds his hips into your ass, his erection rubbing all over your thighs and butt. your saliva pools inside your mouth when you hear him groan and buck his hips into you, mimicking the motions of penetrative sex as he drinks up the friction. his hands hold firmly at your hips and waist, anchoring himself to your body.

he doesn’t need to do much. if you can already feel him this prominently, just how big was his dick? 

“i-i can feel so much of you already.” you glance back at him. the thrums of arousal inside you are almost unbearable. you don’t feel like yourself, only like a husk of person fiending for release. 

“yeah?” his grip on you tightens slightly, and he peers down at you. “fuck- have you had sex before? is this your first time?”

“no, it isn’t- i’ve had sex before- with a few guys on campus and mostly with my ex…,” you trail off, not wanting to think about it any further. “it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t count.”

he chuckles, shaking his head at your small joke. “can you feel how hard i am? how big i am?”

“yes,” you exhale. you want him inside you. you want him to take your pants off already and stick his cock inside your cunt. you want him to make a mess out of your insides, to take the weeks of pent up lust and to let it loose. you want your pussy to be ravaged by him, for him to not stop until you’re a wreck underneath him. “so big… i want it so bad…”

“am i bigger than your ex?” it’s a question posed dangerously, a blade wrapped in cloth. you dip your face down so that your forehead touches the wood. you nod shakily, glad that you have his desk to hold onto for support so that your knees don’t give out. 

he smirks. the ends of his mouth curl upwards into a cruel smile. it’s the satisfaction of a predator right as it’s about to sink its teeth into its prey, relishing the sadistic thrill of knowing that his influence, that his power remains on top.

“forget everything about that boy,” he spits the last word, as if it’s something bitter. “you feel me? feel this cock? yeah, i know you do. this is how big a real man’s cock is.”

you might as well have had the wind knocked out of you. his hands make their way to your pants, and you move with him, letting them fall by your ankles. your panties follow suit, and you’re left shivering with anticipation against his desk, fully naked. nothing can protect you from his wandering eyes now, and while you can’t see him, you can feel his gaze boring into your exposed cunt. 

you can feel how wet you are, your imagination doing the most in making you feel like you were going to overheat while making out with him. your slick drips out of your hole, and your cunt weeps, begging for something to fill you up and get rid of that incessant ache in your belly.

“turn over,” he commands you. any sense of the warm professor you used to shirk around is gone, replaced by an intensity entirely foreign to you. you comply, and you gasp when shoyo sinks down to his knees. his hands are on your knees, and he pries your legs apart to slot himself. you’re fully laying on his desk at this point, and his face is mere inches away from your hole.

“i-...” you don’t know what to say. you feel like you’re going to choke on your own breath, embarrassment at having a man so close to your pussy threatening to consume you whole. 

shoyo, on the other hand, is utterly entranced. the sight of your bare cunt has him bewitched. his cock throbs painfully inside of his pants. the little tease he got from you trying to grind down on him and then rubbing himself against your ass has done nothing but wet his appetite, and he knows how much he’s been waiting painstakingly for this moment.

your voice dies out in the back of your throat when he grabs your thighs, and before you know it, his mouth is on your cunt. he kisses your pussy, and you nearly buck your hips into his mouth. his tongue laps in between your lower lips sensually, coating his mouth in as much of your juices as he can. his grip on you is firm, making sure that you can’t wiggle away from him. he wants you to feel every single second of him eating you out, make sure you feel his tongue against every part of your hole.

his tongue captures your clit, swirling slowly around the sensitive bud. you clench your eyes shut, and the first shockwaves of pleasure shoot straight to your brain. “ah- shoyo- fuck-!”

he keeps kissing and sucking at your clit, determined to shower you with so much attention. he takes his time. he flicks the tip of his tongue against the bud, leaving you recoiling against the cool material of his desk, and he presses the broad of his tongue against it, letting you grind down how you want into his mouth. he mimics your movements, and you’re left gasping and mewling when he moves down. teasing your clit turns into broad licks up your slit, and your thighs shake and threaten to close around his head if it weren’t for his firm grip on you.

his tongue circles your hole, and he smirks into you when he can feel you quiver and clench around him. he’s snaking himself all over your cunt, lavishing each part of your pussy with a good dosage of love and spit. every time he drags his tongue against your slit, threatening to slip into your hole but not quite, you’re left reeling in the aftermath. you need something inside you, anything. you’re so horrendously turned on, and as much as the clitoral stimulation has you seeing stars, you need more.

“shoyo…” god, he loves it when you moan out his name. he just can’t get enough of the way the syllables roll off of your tongue, and you choke out his name, elongated the sound and clinging to his name as if he’s the only thing you’ve ever known. 

your pussy continues to drool for him, and he’s smacking his lips, drinking up every drop of your juices as if he can’t get enough. it’s a perfect reminder of how much he wants you. he thinks you’re perfect, a gift sent down from whatever divinity might be out there, hand-crafted to take his love and to love him in return. you taste heavenly on his tongue, your slick coating his mouth thickly. with each swallow, it’s like you’re becoming a part of him, and it makes him dizzy.

you tremble under his touch. he keeps capturing your clit the way you like it best. he teases you, lets you feel pleasure. the pleasured hums of his voice vibrate against your clit, constantly stimulated by his tongue and lips. the throngs of arousal inside your gut keep mounting, growing, twisting and coiling it on itself, keeling to be freed, to be let loose so you can cum all over his mouth as if you’ve lost all control of your body.

“feels good-,” your breathing shakes as you reach down, grabbing a fistful of his bright orange hair. the man moans in such a depraved manner against you, and you clench painfully, your pussy feeling as if it’s contorting into a way physically impossible from how sheerly aroused you are. “make me cum, please! ‘m so close- wanna cum- wanna cum in your mouth, shoyo…! you’re making me feel so good!”

“yeah?” he detaches himself momentarily. he licks his lips and swallows, chest heaving at your sweet taste overwhelming all of his senses. his brain is screaming for him to fuck you, but he doesn’t want to. he wants to see you feel good from just his mouth first, to coax one orgasm out of you so that your nerves are properly awakened. that would make fucking your pussy out on his cock so much more worthwhile. “am i making you feel good, pretty girl? enough to beg for it?”

you nod feverishly, even though you should know that he can’t see you. your drenched pussy speaks enough for itself. he’s too good at this, the experience under his belt shining through. there’s no stupid boy your age that would even think of doing you a courtesy like eating you out until you’re shaking, and here’s shoyo, eagerly lapping at your cunt without you even needing to ask. 

“cumming- gonna cum- please, please, fuck…! your tongue feels so good- love it so much when you lick at me like that…,” you whimper. your back arches against the desk, and your body twitches, wanting to ride his tongue and make a mess all over his mouth. shoyo doesn’t stop his relentless movements, and he continues to suck at your clit. 

arousal curls and unfurls like a pulse deep inside your stomach. you’re teetering on the edge, and you feel like you’re going crazy. your mind is turning into jelly, your wildest fantasies about your professor coming true right before your eyes, and your pussy can’t take everything happening to you. you shut your eyes again, gritting your teeth and bracing yourself for the orgasm that you’re sure is going to slam into you like a brick wall.

his tongue slithers expertly against your drenched cunt, and he presses a sticky kiss to your clit. your stomach curls inward at the intimate touch, with him pleasuring you as if it's his given duty as your lover, and that’s all it takes.

“shoyo!” you cry out, your thighs nearly wrenching themselves out of his hands. “i’m cumming- fuck! fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuck-...! fuck me, fuck me, please! ah- i’m cumming…!”

he keeps on pressing his mouth all over your pussy as you cum on his mouth. red hot pleasure floods your entire body, sweeping you away from head to toe, and your thighs quiver like mad. your body feels so hot, so overwhelmed by a pleasure you’ve never had before, and your vision spins. you can’t think, not when every inch of your body has been tossed into overdrive so effortlessly by him, and your inner walls twist achingly. 

you wish it was his cock you were cumming on. you’re breathless and succumbing to how good it feels to have your hole ravished by his mouth, and he eats you out through your orgasm. he’s determined to swallow up every drop of your slick, and it’s not until you’re whimpering again and pushing his forehead back weakly that he detaches himself from between your legs.

“shit, you taste so fucking sweet,” shoyo groans. he sounds almost disappointed that you pushed him off of you, your slit tingling and desperate for something bigger. the lower half of his face is shiny with your juices and spit mingling together, and he licks his lips, making sure not to let a single drop escape him. “fuck- i could eat you out all day if you’d let me. pretty girl’s got a pretty pussy too.”

your hole flutters in excitement at his praise. heat and embarrassment at the sudden intimacy flickers underneath your face, and your head is still buzzing, not fully done with your sexual high. your chest rises and falls as you rest on his desk, splayed out for him to admire as he gets up from his knees and undoes pants. you can hear the shuffling of fabric and metal as he takes off his belt and pants. your mouth goes dry as you think about his cock and how big it felt when the two of you were grinding and humping each other for a split second, and now you’re finally getting him to fuck you on it.

he lets out a low, throaty moan as he takes the last of his clothing off, and his cock is nice and hard, drops of pearly pre-cum dripping from his tip. he’s aroused that it hurts, but there’s something about seeing you still recoiling from your orgasm, the rush of pride he gets knowing that he got you off using just his mouth, makes the pain of waiting a bit longer to fuck you so much more worth it.

“how are you feeling? you doing okay?” he asks you. he grabs his cock, stroking himself a few times from base to tip, his thumb sliding over his sensitive slit to spread his pre-cum all over himself. you nod wordlessly, starting to come back down to your plane of reality as you let him slide himself in between your legs again.

you freeze when you feel his cock against your slit, and he rubs himself up and down in between your lower lips. the dull pangs of arousal are bubbling up in your gut once more, and your slick is mixing with his pre-cum to coat his cock in a makeshift kind of lube.

“d-do you have any condoms…?” you eke out. it’s his bare dick against your body right now, and as intoxicating as the thought of taking him raw and letting him stuff every inch of your womb with his cum is, you still have to think straight.

he grabs at your hips, bringing himself flush against your body. a moan catches in the back of your throat when his tip grazes against your sensitive clit, and he chuckles to himself when he sees you twitch. “not at the moment. i’ll take care of you. can you trust me?”

there’s a lump in your throat, and some deeply dead part of you sobs out that you should be responsible. but you don’t care, not when you’re this close to finally having him inside you, not when he promises to take responsibility for you. you move your head, unable to fully meet his eyes, and you nod your head yes.

“good girl,” he laughs sweetly. “you ready for me?”

“yes! please, i want you inside me… want you to fuck me…,” you whine, your head lolling onto the desk underneath you. your pussy clenches at the thought of his raw bare cock rubbing against your insides, your walls clinging to every inch of his thick cock, and you’re so, so ready to take him.

he grips the base of his cock, and he lines himself up. he watches, enraptured, as your hole pulses around his cockhead. you groan needily as he fucks his tip in and out of you, just to watch your pussy cling to him, wanting to pull him in fully. you’re just about to whine and complain when he finally pushes himself in, and your breathing dies out in your chest as your walls stretches out to adjust to him being inside you.

“...fuck-! ah- you’re so big-,” your voice immediately starts slurring as he pushes past the resistance. it burns yet it feels deathly euphoric to have something stretching you out like that, to feel every bit of your pussy being invaded and stuffed out onto shoyo’s girthy cock. you’re coaxing him in effortlessly, and his fingers curl into the flesh of your waist and hips as he tries to ground himself.

he sucks in a harsh inhale through his gritted teeth, his eyebrows furrowing. you’re so tight and wet and downright heavenly wrapped around his length. he can’t stop looking between your legs, right where the two of you are joined together for the first time, but you’re squeezing and fluttering around him just right even though all he did was put it in. it’s taking all of his concentration not to waver and lose himself in the feeling. 

jerking off desperately by himself doesn’t even come close to how good your pussy feels. he could stay like this forever, feeling your velvety walls pulse around him, wanting to pull his cock in even further until he swears his tip is kissing the entrance to your womb. he takes in a deep breath, and he does his best to clear his head so he can start fucking you properly. 

“you’re so fucking tight… shit, did you want my cock that badly?” he manages out shakily. “fuck, it’s like your pussy’s milking me already, sweetheart.”

“mhm… it’s so, so big…,” you murmur, dazed. “never- never had cock like this before- you’re filling me up… feels like you’re in my stomach.”

“yeah? does it feel good?” he’s waiting for you to give him the all clear. your face is scrunched up, and as desperate as he is to start fucking into you like an animal, he knows better than to be a ruffian. your pleasure always comes first. that’s what real men do.

you nod weakly for what feels like the millionth time. your nerves are on fire, your previous orgasm only accentuating how much you can feel him pressed against you. his cock rubs just right against your sensitive walls, and you can’t imagine what actually having him thrusting into you is going to do to your body. “yes- so good- i’m gonna lose my mind, shoyo…”

“good answer.” he reaches over to move a strand of your hair away from your face. “i’m gonna start moving, okay? if something hurts or doesn’t feel right, you tell me right away. i’m here to make you feel good, and nothing else.”

your heart skips a beat. in a sea of fuckboys and idiot college boys that couldn’t care less about your well-being, someone like him feels less like a real person and more like a character straight from a fairy tale. “okay- you can fuck me- i want you to fuck me.”

he draws his hips back and thrusts slowly into you. you gasp, acutely aware of the sensation deep inside of you. your pussy revels at how he rubs against you, gripping onto his cock for dear life as he fucks his length in and out of you. it’s such a painfully slow pace, but you savor the feeling, savor the new stimulus of having your professor’s cock buried deep inside you. you want to commit to memory, because it’s unlike anything you’ve ever had before.

heat flares back up inside your belly again, settling and slithering in repeated coils between your hips. your vision blurs once more, and arousal creeps back into your mind, threatening to overtake every single one of your conscious thoughts. “faster, shoyo- wanna feel more of you- you’re torturing me…!”

“sorry- i can’t help it,” he laughs bitterly, his voice hushed and under his breath. “can you blame me for being obsessed with you? fuck- you’re so tight, hugging me like this… it’s like you were made to take me.”

your stomach curls in on itself at the sweet praise. you hate how easily he toys with your heart, how easily he can make you swoon and fall for him all over again, leaving you dancing and squirming right underneath the palm of his hand. literally. you swallow deeply, and it feels like there’s no inch of your body that the unbearable heat hasn’t spread to. 

“faster, please- i need you so bad!” you sob, nearing your limit. cumming from his tongue was only an appetizer, and you’re hungry for more. you’ve starved yourself long enough, and his slow pace isn’t doing any favors for you. you roll your head left and right on his desk, unable to control yourself.

“you want it? prove it to me.” his voice drops a few notes, and your cunt unconsciously clenches at how dark his words sound. it’s yet another potent reminder of the man buried inside of you right now, a real man who’s determined to make you his, prince and criminal, craved and craving, dreamy and filthy all at once. “look me in the eye then. look me dead on as i fuck you.”

you let out a loud moan. his words are fucking dirty, and when he rolls his hips into you, drinking up the excruciatingly addictive way your pussy clings to his dick, you think your body is actually going to give out on you. it’s not like he’s asking for you to do anything obscene or impossible, but there’s something so disgustingly erotic and intimate about him asking you to look him straight in his face—in his eyes—as he makes love to you.

the desk is warm underneath your body, all warmed up thanks to your body heat. it’s become your subconscious refuge, taking all of your thrashing as he had his way with you, and you don’t want to think about the sure mess you’re bound to leave in your wake. your breathing trembles as you forcibly turn your face towards his, ripping your wavering gaze away from the safety of whatever else you were staring at.

your eyes meet his, and he smiles at you adoringly. there’s no more running away from him, nowhere to escape to, your eyes locked together and dancing in his pupils. you’re rendered breathless again at the vibrant color, like your own life is being squeezed from between your lips. you can’t move, and your chest feels like it’s about to cave in on itself, your ribs giving out and your heart melting into a puddle of useless muscle and putty. but this time, strangely enough, you welcome the helpless feeling. he’s got you wrapped around his pinky finger, and you finally realize that you never stood a chance. 

that very first day, in that fatefully empty classroom, when you first met eyes with him, you were a fucking goner. you always were. always had been. and it was all his fault, all professor hinata’s fault. 

all hinata shoyo’s fault. 

“good girl.” he looks at you in a way only a lover would. his eyes soften around the edges and crinkles up as he grins. “don’t ever look away from me.”

“i won’t,” you promise. it’s the last thing you could dream of doing. not when you want it so badly, and not when he’s asking you verbatim. how could you deny him of the very thing he’s asking you to do? especially when it’s something that you’ve always been mustering up the courage to do? this is your big leap forward, your chance to prove to yourself that you can change.

he leans forward, and he lets you wrap your arms around his neck. you refuse to drop your gaze from his face, admiring every small detail of his features and letting yourself drown fully in the wide expanses of his eyes. he presses one last romantic kiss to your mouth, and that’s the last warning you get, the last bit of sweetness and gentleness you get. 

he draws his hips back, and he slams himself back into you roughly. you choke out a small moan, pleasure flooding your head. he doesn’t give you any time to recover from the recoil before he’s thrusting wildly back into you again. your hole is already slick and dripping wet from his teasing and your previous climax, and it makes it all the more easy for him to slide his length in and out of you, pace picking up speed and leaving you crying out as your surprise quickly morphs into electric pleasure.

“shit- so fucking tight- god, you’re going to kill me,” he grunts. you mewl and moan incoherently, clinging to him for dear life as he fucks into you over and over again. his tip prods against your deepest parts, and surges of pleasure climb all over your nerves. his hips slam against yours, and his balls slap against the curve of your ass. lewd, wet lovemaking noises echo throughout the small office, and it echoes even louder against your ears. 

it feels good, it feels so good. you never knew pleasure like this was possible, that it even existed. you thought you knew everything there was to sex already, but clearly not, if shoyo has you practically melting in his arms, your limbs numb and surrendering wholly to how good he’s making you feel. your walls keep fluttering around him, and every thrust has you crying out. 

“fuck- you feel so good- shoyo- shoyo, i’m losing my mind…!” you gasp. your nails dig into his back, and you claw at him like a feral cat. your thighs quiver around his hips, but he doesn’t let up his brutal pace. with each roll of his hips, it feels like he’s knocking the wind out of you. he’s determined to fuck you stupid, and it’s working. your grip on reality is slipping fast, with the throbbing pleasure in your head taking precedence over everything.

“go crazy for me then. you feel me inside you, don’t you? good. then you can feel firsthand how fucking crazy you make me.” he grabs your hips, and he angles them ever-so-slightly before ramming into you. you grit your teeth as a tense cry escapes from you.

the new angle has you seeing stars. you’re scratching at his back, your insides lurching and reeling and being stirred up like wild. “you’re so deep… so deep inside me! nnmgh…! you’re gonna make me cum so fast- make me cum again-“

“shit, already? am i fucking you that good?” his stomach is doing flips. you’re a sight for sore eyes, refusing to look away from him as if your life depended on it. his abs strain against him as he enjoys the experience of having sex with you, sex with the student that’s been dancing around him forever. you’re splayed out like a piece of art underneath him: all sweaty, breasts bouncing, legs spread with your soft cunt eagerly taking every inch of him.

your foreheads are basically touching when you nod your head. “yes! no one’s ever made me feel this good before- never had cock like yours-“

he almost laughs. oh, he’s bet you’ve never had anyone like him. what would your ex, your past flings know about pleasing women? all he wanted was to make you go crazy like this. he wants to sink you deep into pleasure, and he wants to make it so that you don’t ever think about other men after he’s done with you. he wants you in your entirety. he can’t do halfway.

“i told you already,” he purrs. his words drip off of his tongue like sticky syrup. “it’s because you’re having sex with a man this time. not with a boy. a real, grown man. someone that can take care of you. someone that can treat you right.”

it’s hard to think. he speeds up, leaving you fighting to keep your eyes open. the intense look in shoyo’s eyes are nothing like your own fucked out look, but at the same time, you’re sure the intoxicated gleam in his is the same as yours. is it love or desire that connects you two?

“most importantly…” his fingers dig into your flesh, securing your hips in place and leaving you at his mercy. you can feel your juices leaking out, coating your ass and making wet sounds whenever his hips smash into yours. he cranes his head, and his lips are almost on top of yours, threatening to close the gap and brush his lips across yours. “someone that can actually fuck you.”

oh fuck. you don’t stand a fucking chance against him. all of the sensations are rapidly racking up in your body, and with how deep he’s thrusting into you, you can barely hold onto yourself. you’re gonna cum soon again, you just know it. you feel the tightness inside your belly, and with how effectively he’s seducing you, whispering all kinds of lewd things and making sure that you keep your eyes locked on him while fucking you, you have nowhere to run away.

“i can’t take it- so rough- can’t take much more-,” you whimper. your mind is going blank, and all that you can think of is him. his body feels heavy and good on top of you, and having you scratch his back out of pleasure only spurs him on. he can feel you slipping and losing control of yourself, and he rocks you close to himself. he wonders if you can feel his heartbeat hammering in his chest, huffing short breaths as he keeps up his steady yet brutal pace.

he looks at you, and a smirk dangles off of his face. “yes, you can. you can take it. i know you can. you’ll be good for me, won’t you? let me make you feel good.”

your breathing hitches. it’s taking all of your mental strength not to topple over the edge right now. everything’s rushing too fast to your head right now, and all of your nerves are standing on edge, enthusiastically lapping up the pure euphoria coursing through your veins. but you want to make shoyo happy, you want to cum together with him, and as much as he said this lovemaking session was about you, you want to be able to match the pace he set.

“for you- just for you-,” you struggle to get the words out, the final syllables slurring together into a slight babble. so much for your usually well-put together, prudent academic facade. any trace of the well-trained, well-behaved student is long gone, replaced by a dirty, senseless, corrupted, and lascivious soul that lives and dies for shoyo’s love. “wanna be good- wanna be good only for you…”

“good. you’re mine. all mine,” he murmurs. the pleasure is sharp and dull all at once, all consuming and delicate, sinking you down into the murky waves inside the recesses of your mind only to drag you back to the surface, leaving you shuddering and grasping as if you had been drowned for real. shoyo likes it. he adores the reactions he gets out of you.

this is a kind of pleasure only he can give you. you’ve never had this with anyone else before, and he’ll make it so that you can’t find it from anyone else, not unless it’s with him. these faces you’re making, twisting in ecstasy and crying out with a voice like a songbird, are for him to enjoy only. they’re exclusive to him, only meant for his eyes, and he consumes it, fiending for more.

“shoyo- can’t- ‘t’s too good- i’m going crazy…!” you strain to breathe, your chest feeling inhumanly tight. parts of your brain light up like wired lights, blooming and flickering. you’re terribly close, and you know this one is going to take you whole and blow out any sense of being in your body. “shoyo- shoyo…”

“fucking christ- if you moan my name like that… you’ll make me want to do horrible things to you. so much more fucking worse than what i’m doing to you right now, sweetheart. this is just the start right here.” something pricks at your hips, and he digs his nails into your hips. he never thought himself to be such a possessive man, but he can’t deny the insanity that’s taken root in his brain for weeks now. it does something to him, to have his dick inside of you but to also hear you calling for him. him, him specifically, his name, emerging from your mouth as if he’s someone you revere. maybe at one point you did, but his yearning to have you turned him into something monstrous and all too human.

but perhaps that same madness overtook you and that was what brought the two of you together. shoyo finds it funny: the idea of something as sacred as love growing from something so depraved. and yet he’s fascinated by it, fascinated by the possibility that you’re no better than him, that your respect for him may just as easily be swapped for a kind of convenience to quell your own heart.

he doesn’t know what it all means. now isn’t the time for him to get philosophical. he’s balls-deep inside the pretty student he’s been pining over, and he’s so close to getting you to cum. wouldn’t that be a better reward than anything else he’s carefully built up? years of self preservation and swallowing down his personal desires for what’s “best” for his future be damned, he wants you. he wants you, he wants, he wants you.

you wonder if this is the end of your rope. you’re so close, so near the edge, and you’re clenching so desperately around his cock. you’re eclipsed entirely by the sight of your frightened and frantic reflection in his wide eyes, and you barely recognize yourself. so this is what you look like when you’re being mercilessly railed by your hot professor. your mouth is agape as you moan out for the male on top of you, face flushed and sweat beading your forehead like some kind of crown. 

“gonna cum- gonna cum! shoyo- just a bit more-” your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. your body isn’t yours at this point, having given up in exchange for the fire that burns your core, the snakes inside your belly hissing and twisting and pulsing. “i’m cumming- gonna cum- i can’t hold back anymore-!!”

“go ahead,” he whispers. his mouth itches to kiss you, to swallow up your wounded gasps. he wants to feel your body go slack again like he had done once before, to push you into that wonderful place where nothing and everything was real at once. he’s sure your body’s overrun with complex sensations and pure euphoria, and he loves watching you turn into a shell of yourself. “cum on my cock, pretty girl. you’ll be mine, won’t you?”

you barely nod your head, and shoyo’s drawing his hips back and snapping them back into you at a particularly rough angle. you tense up underneath him, back arching and limbs going stiff. your eyes widen, gaze still connected with him, and your body fully gives out.

“sh- shoyo…!” your voice is shrill as you sob out one final moan, and your orgasm grips the entirety of your body. it feels good, it aches, it throbs, and it demands so much of you. your velvety walls clamp down on his thick cock like a vice, milking him and clinging to him, and your climax refuses to give shoyo a chance to breathe. he digs his ankles into the ground and keeps thrusting wildly into you, wanting to keep the flare swallowing you up going for a bit longer. he grits his teeth as you squirm underneath him, and you can barely keep your eyes open. you want to clench them shut and throw your head back so bad, but whatever little control you have remaining on your conscious keeps them open, just for him.

you’re fighting against the currents swirling and whirlpooling inside your brain. whatever heat was bottled up inside your body rushes out, and you’re cumming all over shoyo’s girth. he’s keeping you stretched out, and your stomach feels like it’s going to cave in on itself. it’s nothing but pure bliss, the kind that makes you feel as if you’re floating, and you’re rendered breathless, each inhale precious and fleeting and almost incognizant. your vision swims, and tears settle on your waterline, just threatening to topple over. your field of sight is blurry, and yet even amongst all of the chaos, you can make out the dapples of brown in shoyo’s eyes, forever in tandem with him as if he were a planet in orbit around your sun.

you’re gasping for air, finally having gotten the release you had been chasing for what felt like an eternity. shoyo breathes heavily and raggedly, as if he had run a marathon, and he’s barely holding on himself. your insides are fucking massaging him, stroking his cock all over, squeezing and hugging and rubbing all up against his sensitive length.

“shit- fuck-,” he chokes out. fuck- he didn’t expect that seeing you cum would take so much out of him. his mind is teetering, and his muscles strain against him, his abs prominent. you’re refusing to let go of him, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can genuinely hold on for. he should be responsible, at least try to pick up the pieces of the mess that you two made, and pull out, cum into a napkin or a trash can or his hand or literally anywhere inside of your sweet cunt, but whatever resolve inside his chest whimpers as if he’s killing it when the thought brushes against his mind.

he wants to cum inside you. he has to. he needs to go that extra step, cement himself physically into you, promise to take care of you again and again for whatever happens next. he’s a real lover, someone who’ll take all of your brokenness and insecurity and fear and make them dissolve and melt away as if it were sugar. he’s sure they’d be equally as sweet to, so long as it came from you.

“god- fuck- take me- i’ll take care of you- take care of anything that happens next- fuck- just… just stay with me-,” he breathes out, body shaking. a cry catches in the back of your throat when he fucks himself in as deep as he can go, his cockhead pressing right up against your cervix. he buries himself into you, and he leans forward, capturing your lips in one last deep kiss, tongue swirling in your mouth and filling up your senses entirely with him.

your moans are muffled by him when you feel him cum deep inside you. something hot and heavy floods your cunt, pumping into you in generous spurts. it’s warm, and his cock takes on a second pulse inside of you, like a heartbeat as semen trickles into your womb and all through your cunt. your body feels hot, every inch of your pussy drenched and coated with shoyo’s cum. a few stray drops escape from you, but with him pressing his body flush against you and his cock still stuffed inside your cunt, most of the cum remains plugged inside you as he gasps for air, his high overtaking him.

“fuck… fu-uck,” his voice is gruff and airy. “god- you keep fucking milking me- shit, i came inside too- oh god…”

he nearly collapses on top of you, and his chest is on yours. the two of you lay there, breathing deeply and just enjoying the post-sex warmth of each others’ bodies. you’re still buzzing slightly, your head heavy as if you had just woken up from a long nap, but regular feeling is starting to seep back into your limbs. your body is pulling itself out from the haze, and while exhausted and quite literally fucked out of your mind, you’re regaining control over yourself as the minutes pass.

you admire shoyo’s form, the beautiful curves of muscle all over his back and shoulders, the lines on his face that could come only with age. it’s too early for you to worry, too early to really know the true consequences of your actions, and yet, there’s something bittersweet at the tip of your tongue when you look down adoringly at shoyo. morally, you know that this can’t continue. the best course of action you could have taken was to not fuck him, but now that you’ve gone and crossed that bridge, the next best thing you can do is to nip this in the bud and to avoid making a habit of this.

but you already know that you’re not strong enough to do that. you can’t go back, not when you’ve had a taste of everything you’ve already wanted.

you wrap your arms around shoyo a bit tighter, and you hold him closer to your heart. he buries his head into the crook of your neck, the shaky eye contact that you had kept up with him now broken. he inhales deeply and takes in your scent, and you wordlessly both celebrate and mourn everything that had built up and broken in between you and the man you had pined after for so long.

“...i’ll go buy some plan b for you.” he’s the first to break the silence. “there are some napkins in my office that i can clean you up with. you stay put. i… i lost control of myself there, and i don’t want you to strain yourself. do you think you can eat and drink a bit?”

your mind is nowhere near as clear as you’d want it to be, but you rasp out quietly, “yeah. i’m okay.”

“do you have any classes after this? fuck- i lost track of time too. i can write you a note and email whatever professor you have after me. i’m sorry- i really shouldn’t have gotten that carried away.” shoyo peels himself off of your body, and a whimper of protest dies out in your mouth. 

“i don’t have any classes. i’m basically free for the rest of the day, so you don’t need to worry about it. i- uh- i appreciate it though…” your arms feel cold and empty without him, and he maneuvers himself to grab a wad of napkins to position underneath your ass to catch the cum dripping out of you as he drags his now soft cock out.

you simultaneously feel empty and full all at once. his cum still undoubtedly lingers inside you, but without him physically in you, you feel as if something big has been sucked out of your soul. your stream of consciousness meanders to the idea of soulmates, and if this is what it must feel like.

you don’t know how to breach any further though. he’s immediately flipped his professional switch back on, cleaning both of you up without any further words, and you don’t think it’s proper though to keep demanding more from him. in his eyes, this might be nothing more than a bad lapse in judgment and not something he wants to keep pursuing in the same way you want to. 

a lump forms in your throat at the thought, and your heart shakes. your heart physically hurts. it aches and throbs as if it were torn apart, the stringy sinews and muscles begging for at least a bone to be thrown your way.

you hang your head, swallowing your despair back down the best you can. it’s not your place. it’s not your place.

he hands you an unopened water bottle, and you mutter a solemn word of thanks before cracking the lid and gulping a few mouthfuls down. he’s bent over and collecting all of your clothes, mixed together with him, and despite still being naked in front of him, you don’t feel any shame at all. this whole charade shouldn’t have felt as good and guiltless as it does, and you don’t want this to leave on the melancholy note that it is.

but as shoyo slips his sweater back on over his head and adjusts his hair, it’s hard not to mistake his professionalism for distance. you’re aware that you aren’t proper lovers, no boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, but what kind of sane human doesn’t yearn for a sense of connection and reassurance after something so intimate? all you want is to cuddle with him for a few minutes longer, have him smile sheepishly up at you as he peppers kisses onto your face, his big calloused hands holding you firmly.

you set the water bottle down. reality is never as clear cut nor as easy as fantasy is, and at this point, that should be a revelation you’ve carved into your heart by now. you steel your resolve the best you can, the one thing you’ve learned better than any other lesson your painful years of adulthood have taught you, and you reach for your own clothes.

you look messy with your clothes haphazardly thrown on and trepidation clinging like a fog to your psyche, and you’re ready to basically skitter out of his office as you always do and keep your head down until the semester ends. then you’ll be out of his hair and hopefully this would be nothing more than another minor heartbreak for you to get past. 

“where are you going? if you don’t mind staying put for a little bit longer, i’ll go fetch the plan b.” a hand lands on your shoulder as you prepare to leave, and you stop dead in your tracks. you look over, and shoyo looks down at you as if he’s confused. 

you hold your breath. you know better than to hope, and yet the flash of emotion that flies across your chest is undeniable. “you… don’t want me to go?”

his face immediately morphs into a deep frown, and his brows furrow. he looks horrified, as if you had picked out the worst words for the situation and spat them at his feet. “no! of course not. who do you think i am? why would i kick you out right after having sex? after harping on for so long about treating you right? gosh, you think so lowly of me. i was only cleaning up! here, there should be some snacks i keep stashed away in the second drawer over there. i’ll be zippity quick with the plan b run, i promise. get something in your tummy in the meantime, and then we can chat.”

chat? the word dangles above you like a loaded bullet. not everything is some kind of fucked up mental game, but it stuns you how he constantly manages to stay a step ahead you in everything.

you want to ask about what. about the future state of your relationship? about how both of your lives are going to undoubtedly be marked in a different way now because of this? about how the rest of the semester is going to go? about how you might never be able to muster the courage to show your face to society again, depending on how the conversation proceeds? there’s a whole slew of questions waiting to be asked, but when he beams at you, his smile more boyish and endearing than anything else, it’s like he simply melts away all of your anxieties.

it’s downright unfair, the sheer effect he has on you. but you don’t want it to stop, ever. you want him to continue confusing you and amazing you, leaving you questioning yourself and all of your worldviews. you don’t understand him, not one bit, and yet it feels like you know too much, used too much of your wiles to force him into showing his hand and leave both of you at some kind of stalemate. 

“what comes after that then?” that’s all you manage to blurt out amidst all of your fluctuating emotions. you don’t want him to leave, don’t want the beautiful man to slip away from your fingers after you only just got to keep him, no matter how short or necessary it might be. you’re not thinking straight, but what part of any of this came from logical thinking anyway? good behavior only got you so far, and good behavior isn’t going to keep him.

he grins, a smile that could rival sunshine even through your internalized storm. “that’s easy. you said you were free, yeah? i drop you off at home for a little bit so you can properly get cleaned up and get a fresh change of clothes. then i pick you up again, surprise you with a big bouquet of roses, and i buy you a nice dinner. dessert and drinks included. then i drop you back off home, and if you’re down for it, we do that a few times. then, y’know… i ask you out properly on our third or fourth date.”

your heart flutters in your chest. your heart has always been a caged bird, the last part of yourself you could never fully tame. stuffing it in a constricted box and ignoring it has gotten you only so far, and shoyo presses the key to the cage into your hand and coaxes you into unlocking and opening up the impenetrable door. your eyes widen slightly. it’s too early to get your hopes up again, but at the same time, when he’s stating his interest and desire to make something serious out of this, to actually take you on as a proper girlfriend and not as a one time fling, to go the whole nine yards and make it the romantic experience you’ve always wanted deep deep down, you think it’s only fair that you let yourself have this.

after years and years of repression, you’re getting your first reprieve. the first sign of spring after what felt like an unending winter, the long awaited gulp of water after wallowing in the murky depths, the fabled light at the end of the tunnel, a reminder that everything truly isn’t as hopeless as your twisted mind likes to make it, that you’re just as deserving of goodness and love and rightfulness as much as those around you, no matter how vehemently you once denied it against the very wishes of your heart. you’re done stifling your own desires, and while it won’t be something you fix overnight, you’re sure it’s shoyo that drew out those first steps.

“i don’t like ruining the surprise like this, but… i’m sure you don’t mind. still, do me a favor and act surprised when i do bring you flowers and take you out on a dinner date, okay?” he winks at you, laughing to himself. he looks so happy with himself, truly giddy like a boy waiting to ask his crush out. you don’t know how he can go in between being the cool professor you fell for and the man that charmed you so effortlessly, but you aren’t complaining. you want to acquaint yourself with every side there is to shoyo and to fall deeply in love with each and every part of him you discover.

you smile back softly in return. you play the innocent card, and you tilt your head slightly in a show of fake confusion. “don’t worry. date? what date? aren’t you running out to get me just plan b?”

“atta girl. you always catch on quickly. it’s that smart mind of yours,” he laughs again, louder this time. his voice reminds you of bells ringing in the morning sun. each syllable feels like he’s thawing you out, and it’s something to be venerated with every part of your soul. he approaches you to steal a kiss from your lips, and the touch is so sweet and gone too quickly. you want another, but you know he’ll be back soon and you’ll have as many kisses as you’d like, as many as he’d let you have.

he cups your face with one hand, and his thumb rubs over the apple of your cheek. it’s such a gentle touch, and yet it makes you feel weak in the knees, like your body feels a sense of magnetic attraction to him that makes you want him to hold you and nothing else. he leans down ever so slightly, enough so that he can look at you directly in your eyes again.

you don’t think you’ll ever get used to the way he leaves you breathless when he gazes at you, the intense look always leaving you stunned and glued in your place, the same split second that proved to be the first taste of the forbidden fruit. something bristles and hangs in the air, like electricity, and this time, you recognize it to be the anticipation of getting something you’ve wanted, like an excitement gripping at your throat, and the happiness of your heart beating not just for you but for someone else, for the very first time.

shoyo grins at you, at you alone. his eyes twinkle fondly.

“i love you,” he whispers without any trace of doubt in his voice.

your lips move, “i love you too, shoyo.”

you don’t blink. you won’t blink so long as he’s looking at you.

and you swear to never look away from those beautiful, beautiful eyes.

author's note: i owe @thomae a million thank yous for letting me write her idea! thank you thank you thank you so much for letting me bounce all of my ideas off of you and bothering you incessantly about this fic!! it ended up getting a lot longer than i originally intended (×﹏×) but regardless, i hope everyone enjoyed reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! (´ ε ` )♡ please stay safe in the new year, and if you enjoyed my writing, you can show your appreciation by donating to the humanitarian cause in gaza!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #hinata shoyo #x reader #fem reader #my writing

[chaoticbeanz]

Hellfire's Girl

Summary- A new girl moves to Hawkins and has already made an impression. 

Pairing- Eddie Munson x Fem!oc

Warnings- friends to lovers, slow burn, she/her pronouns, cursing, mainly nickname will be used, 

Notes- This is my first Eddie fic. Also, I will be straying from the storyline. Please don't forget to comment. I'd love to hear feedback.

Masterlist

~Lena~

Moving to Hawkins wasn't as bad as I had originally thought. Sure it sucks that I had to leave, but knowing I was only about 3 hours away from my friends made me feel better about it.

Starting my senior year in a new high school on the other hand… blows.

Well, it would have if I cared about fitting in. Back home no one judged. But here? Oh boy did they. I had to keep some of my hobbies on the down low, for now at least. Apparently, Dungeons and Dragons was considered “Devil worshipping”. So much for me trying to find people to teach me how to play. Or so I thought. Barely one week in Hawkins High is all it took for me to make a friend. Or a few.

~English class~

I was sitting in the back because I couldn't pay attention today. I was a passing student so I wasn't worried. 

As I tuned out the teacher, I started doodling on what should've been my notes. The only thing on my mind was smoking my last joint that was tucked away in my car. I was unconsciously drawing clouds around the leaf I had made on my paper.

“Hey, New girl.” I heard whispers next to me. Turning my head to see a boy wearing a shirt with the words “Hellfire Club”. Maybe it was a new band?

“Do you partake or just like drawing?”

This felt like a trick question. Was he trying to get me caught or being friendly? I've learned quickly not to trust anyone yet. The jocks and the cheerleaders are the royalty in the ranks. Any lower on the food chain and you're a target no matter what.

He felt my hesitation to the question so he continued, “I only ask because if you need “flower”- he points to my picture- I know a guy.”

That sounds even more suspicious! I lean in slightly whispering, “You do realize how that sounds like a total set up right? Why should I trust you?”

The boy puts his hands up in defense.“That's fair. But wouldn't me asking you just be me outing myself? Why would I rat both of us out?”

“Touche.”

“I’m Gareth by the way.”

“Lena. And hypothetically if I were to say I had “flower”. Would you partake?”

“Uh Duh.” We both laughed silently.

“You seem pretty cool Gareth.” I could tell that took him by surprise but he tried to cover it up. 

“Uh, thanks. So do you.” he paused for a second “Would you wanna come sit with me and my friends during lunch? I can't guarantee that you'll think they'll be as cool as me but…” I giggled.

“I’d love to. And trust me if they're like you I'll like them way better than the “royalty”.”

With that said the bell had rung, dismissing everyone for lunch. I put my notebook in my bag seeing Gareth standing in the corner of my eye. Like he's waiting for me. How sweet.

“I have to put some stuff in my locker. You can go ahead and I'll find you.” I smiled at him. He nodded his head but looked unsure. Like he thought I was lying about sitting with them. Nonetheless, he walks out of the room towards the lunch room while I head to my locker.

~3rd Person~

As Gareth walked to the lunch room, he thought about Lena. Was she being serious about sitting with them? Regardless he would have to mention her to his friends. Even if she didn't sit with them she was one of the good ones.

As he walks through the doors, a roar of multiple conversations bounces off the walls. He grabs his lunch and then heads to his table with his dungeon master and best friend seated at the head of the table.

The kiddies arrived just as he sat down. Now was his chance.

“Hey guys, I invited the new girl to sit with us.”

Everyone at the table paused as if processing what Gareth had said. Then a chorus of laughs erupted from the group. “I’m serious!”

Eddie wipes a fake tear from his eye. “Good one Gare.”

“Yeah like a girl is gonna sit with us.”Jeff rolls his eyes.

“You're delusional man!”

With Gareth trying to defend himself and the group in denial, they had not noticed Lena approaching their table.

~Lena~

I rushed to my locker to dump whatever I didn't need for my next classes. Then into the bathroom to make sure I didn't look crazy. I wanted to make a good first impression on Gareth's friends. It’d be nice to have real people to hang out with who are not snobby rich fakers.

When I got to the cafeteria I scanned the room to find Gareth while going through the line to just get some fruit. Surprised that they had peaches I grabbed two then spotted Gareth after I paid. 

As I was heading to the table, a blonde cheerleader I met earlier stopped me. I think her name was Chrissy.

“Hey, would you like to sit with me and the girls?” she smiled sweetly.

“Oh thanks but I've got a seat already.” offering her a smile back. I didn't want to hurt her feelings because she seemed like the only genuine popular girl I'd met.

“Oh, that's okay! Maybe next time.” she then walked away to her table.

I started walking again and as I approached the table it seemed like they were arguing about something. Before you could catch what was going on they all fell quiet when you stood in front of their table. Looking at the boy standing at the opposite side of the table. 

~3rd Person~

Eddie was not buying it for one second as soon as the sentence left Gareth's mouth. A new girl sitting with them? The freaks of Hawkins High? Yeah right. But alas Eddie believed that Gareth was committed to the bit til he had enough. He stood from his chair and slammed his hands on the table.

“For fucks sake! Why would she…” 

He never finished his sentence. Once he saw her walking and stop right in front of his table he was speechless. No one ever makes Eddie Munson speechless. 

The boys turned to see why he shut up and were equally astonished, besides Gareth of course. He wore a smug smile, crossing his arms and leaning back into his chair. 

“Uh hi. Gareth said I could sit with you guys.”

Silence from the whole table. They just couldn't believe that Gareth was telling the truth. With no response, she tried again.

~Lena~

“Is that okay?” I asked as I looked at the boy directly across from me. He seemed like the leader of the pack so I awaited his response. But nothing. They all just stared at me like they had never seen a girl before. I don't know if I should be flattered or concerned. Before I could feel embarrassed and think this was a bad idea, Gareth spoke up.

“Here, you can sit next to me.” He scooted the chair next to him out for me to sit.

I sat down hesitantly, eyeing everyone as they still didn't speak. Lingering a little longer on the curly long-haired boy. He was cute no doubt. I toss that thought immediately away. Friends Lena. You're making friends. It was too soon to be having a crush on someone.

“Don't mind them. They didn't believe me when I said you were sitting with us.”

Gareth went around the table, introducing everyone to me. Next to him was Jeff. Across from me was Mike, and to his right was Dustin and Doug. Lastly, at the head of the table was Eddie. “Guys, this is Lena.”

I gave them all a smile and waved. Also noticed that they all wore the same shirt. I made a mental note to ask about it.

 Dustin seemed to be the first of the group to come to his senses. “So, where are you from?”

“Harrison. It's about a half hour outside of Cincinnati.”

“What made you come to Hawkins?” Mike asked with a confused face.

“Uh, well my dad overlooks construction jobs. The company he works for has a new location. So he decided to move closer since he’ll be running that place.”

Everyone seemed to become more comfortable as I answered their questions. Seemingly deciding that I wasn't a threat. As I talked I subconsciously worked on opening my peach. It was what I always did to them. Slightly crack open the top, and run my finger all the way around. Now and then lick my finger to stop the juice from running down my hand then twist until it splits in half.  Once opened I took a bite and noticed they all were staring again.

“What?” I said wiping the corner of my mouth.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” Jeff asked.

I couldn't help but giggle. “It’s my party trick.” I took another bite.

~3rd Person~

“Is that okay?”

The way she looked at Eddie stirred something inside of him. Genuinely asking for permission. His permission to sit with them. He was so dumbfounded to speak. Just taking her in. From her pretty brown eyes to the Queen t-shirt and jeans she wore that hugged her curves in all the right places to her ring-adorned hands holding peaches. She looked godsent. Well, at least that's what Eddie was thinking. He got a weird feeling as he saw you take the seat next to Gareth. Jealousy? What? No way he was already crushing on the new girl?! He barely even spoke a word to her, just listened to her answer any questions the guys had.

He watched her as she absentmindedly moved her fingers through the peach. His mind started creating naughty thoughts he couldn't shake away. The way she licked her fingers, completely oblivious to what she was doing to him. The juice of the peach slipped out the corner of her mouth as she took a bite. All he wanted to do was lick it off her. Oh, how he was already done for. 

Jeff was the first to express his bewilderedness. Man, hearing her giggle? Eddie wanted to bottle it up and keep it forever.

“It’s how I've always eaten peaches. They're my favorite,” she says like it is the most obvious answer in the world. Before anyone could ask about the side with the pit, she does the same trick to split it again in half and then pop the clean pit out. She holds out a slice offering it up to anyone. Before Eddie could act, Dustin took the offering.

“Well in that case should we be calling you Peaches then?” Gareth joked.

She pondered the thought and then shrugged with a smile. “I wouldn't mind that.” Right at that moment, Hellfire as a collective decided that from now on they would only call her Peaches.

Tagged: @luv4peterba1lard @arlxtarts @midnyghtsolstice

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

If you would like to be tagged or share your thoughts please leave a comment. It would be greatly appreciated.

part 2 underway

#eddie imagines #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #hellfire club #eddie stranger things #eddie x fem!reader #x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #oc #hawkins high #friends to lovers #stranger things imagine #eddie the freak munson #eddie the banished #joseph quinn #slow burn #eddie munson x oc #stranger things eddie munson #eddie fanfic

[space-writes]

hello (again) writeblr! i decided to make a new intro that has all my current wips on it, since i have way more than when i first started out on here.

about me

I go by Space, my pronouns are they/he, and I’m in my third decade of existence, which is absolutely wild. I’ve been writing for most of it, so I like to think I’m pretty decent

I write mostly fantasy and erotica (sometimes at the same time), both original and fanfiction, and all of it's queer

You can find my work on my AO3 here, crossposted to my neocities here, and under my snippets tag

I’m open to tag and ask games, and my inbox is currently open to anything as well. I don’t always reply the fastest, but I’ll get to it eventually! (I don’t take part in chain asks, so please don’t send me them)

I use obsidian.md for all my writing, and it’s my favourite notes app ever, so I also talk about that occasionally. The tag for it is here, and I’m hoping to write some more showcases/tutorials this year!

my main goal is to actually finish some damn books and also to inflict my OC brainrot upon people. so far the second one is the only thing that’s actually happened, but i live in hope

My current wips are Chronicles of Valloroth (Renegade Prince being book one), Obedience, Obsession, and claws—summaries and links for all four are under the cut!

this is my writing sideblog, you can find my main @thespacelizard, and i follow/like from there

current wips

Chronicles of Valloroth

⚔ Genre: Fantasy Adventure

⚔ Features: Queer cast, found family, A Whole Entire Dragon, magical mishaps, The Mere Concept of Doing The Right Thing, a grumpy assassin, a sparkly mercenary, knock-off tieflings, a handsome prince (he’s gay), more banter than your average dungeons and dragons campaign

⚔ Status: Book One: First draft completed, re-drafting in-progress || Books Two & Three: outlined

⚔ One Sentence Summary (Book One): A runaway prince seeks freedom in a new world and must find a way to convince a rag-tag group to defeat an ancient dragon, all whilst he is being hunted by a band of mercenaries and an infamous assassin.

⚔ Series Tag: valloroth blogging

claws

🩸 Genre: Queer Horror

🩸 Features: teacher/student relationship (university edition), toxic romance, gender fuckery, broken identity, demonology, murder, self-harm, obsession, stalking, infidelity, a lot of blood, pact-based magic system, corruption, jealousy, eldritch entities, love is a wound, body horror, attempted suicide, and a little bit of arachnophilia

🩸 Status: First draft complete!

🩸 One Sentence Summary: A young student’s obsession with his demonology teacher sparks a twisted romance that draws him to the limits of his humanity—and into the web of an eldritch horror.

🩸 Series Tag: wip: claws

Obedience

💜 Genre: Erotic Romance, D&D fanfiction (original characters, Forgotten Realms setting & loose 5E ruleset)

💜 Features: a variety of BDSM scenarios, one closed off wizard dom, one enthusiastic nerdy sub, weird uses for dnd spells, a painful amount of pining, somehow; worldbuilding, emotional slow burn, as much self indulgence as I can possibly fit in a fanfic series

💜 Status: Arcs 1-3 are complete (read on AO3 here, or my neocities here). The first book of Arc 4, The Perils of Wanting is currently in edits. The second book of Arc 4, as yet untitled, is on its second draft.

💜 One Sentence Summary: A D/s M/M series featuring two wizard boys, the kinky magic they get up to, and the feelings they definitely don’t have for each other.

💜 Series Tag: obedience fic blogging (it began on my main, so the tag there has more snippets)

Obsession

🕷 Genre: War of the Spider Queen/Forgotten Realms fanfiction, also Erotica, Horror and a smidge of Dark Romance

🕷 Features: OC/canon, a nightmare transmasc wizard boy, obsession, stalking, jealousy, violent impulses, dubious consent, possessiveness, evil gender dysphoria, incest, gore, the inherent horror of Having a Body, and occasionally actual school things happening at Sorcere

🕷 Status: Ongoing serial, which you can read on AO3 here, or my neocities here

🕷 One Sentence Summary: Pharaun Mizzrym is everything to Vizaeth Thaezyr. He’ll do anything for him—even if Pharaun doesn’t know it yet.

🕷 Series Tag: obsession fic blogging (it also began on my main, so check the tag there for additional content!)

#writeblr #writeblr intro #writeblr introduction #writeblr reintro #writing community #writing #writers on tumblr #writers #i did it i remade the intro! #everyone cheer and clap for me #anyway hello to all the people who've joined me here since i started! #thanks for listening to me incessantly post about my blorbos

[filmofhybe]

Chilling Rivals - PSH

SYNOPSIS: you’re competitive and will not let anyone ever look down on you. What if the one and only ice skater -park sunghoon challenges you to a ice skating face off? Thinking the only sport you could ever do was ballet. What if he develops feelings for how fierce you are?

Pairing : ice skater PSH x Ballerina + ice skater fem! oc

Genre: rival to lovers au, fluff

warning: rude and dirty comments,

word count: 835

Everyone admired y/n for her competitiveness. She was a ballerina as well as a ice skater. Who has continuously won awards after awards. No one ever dared to challenge her because they know they would be humiliated by her group of dancers, who follows her around school like a lost puppy.

 

On the other hand, Park Sunghoon. The renowned figure skater, who’s also has the competitive spirit as y/n. Knows he is better than her. He’s confident that he will always be able to beat her ass in everything especially ice skating. Just because she learnt it doesn’t mean she’s a pro at it… "whatever you say sunghoon. She could add lots of ballet movement into ice skating as well." Jay explained as he rolled his eyes his ignorant friend.

 

"Girls quickly get into 4th position and relevé, Pirouette and spin!" The teacher yelled at the girls while clapping her hands, making sure all the girls are on time together before dismissing them.

 

"Alright you guys did fairly good today, please take some rest and y/n please hand this into the office as you leave." I took the register and we all thanked the teacher. As I was packing my stuff away, several girls asked where I’m I going after. "I have ice skating lessons. Wont be home until late."

The girls all starts chatting about it, before I stepped outside the door, I overheard one of them say "I heard sunghoon and Jay was talking about her. How sunghoon thinks she could never beat his ass."

"That’s such a lie, y/n will always beat him. He’s so self centered and obsessed with our captain. It makes me head pound." Giggles was spread around the room after. And before I knew it I was furious at his statement that was made about me. I swear to god if he thinks he’s better, I’ll just prove to him that he isn’t.

 

As a stepped into the ice rink. I quickly passed the people that’s already sat around the rink. I looked up and saw sunghoon gracefully glide across the ice effortlessly. The girls behind me squeaking as he did a loop. I focused on tying my laces following a deep voice calling my name.

 

"y/n y/l/n.. finally decided to appear." He chuckled leaning towards the board, as I met his gaze. I gave him a death stare.

 

"What do you want park sunghoon?" I asked as I took off my blade guards off. Gliding away from him. But he follows behind me like he’s a lost puppy. Making me irritated by his actions.

 

"I just want to have a face off with you. Because you’re competitive and so am I." He said with a disgusting smirk on his face. Him challenging me? Who does he think he is.

 

"Alright then. If you think you can beat me then show me your skills."

 

"You really think you can handle the challenges of ice skating?"

 

At this point, everyone around the rink was looking. Both of us were determined to prove our worth and showcase our talents. If Sunghoon really thinks my ballet background would limit my ability on the ice rink, then he got himself in the wrong position this time.

 

He wasted no time as he executed his routine with precision and effortless beauty. Captivating everyone’s attention around the rink with his breathtaking jumps, twizzles , toe loops, you name it, He finishes off with a hockey stop. The rink was filled with applause, he bowed, thanking everyone and their support.

 

He stopped in front of me. A slight shocked on my face. I admired his the artistry and the beauty in his routine. "Oh so you’re scared now." He laughed. "I’m not scared; I just think you could’ve kept your leg a bit straighter when you did those twizzles." I could tell he was now pissed off by my comment. But inside of me I know he did well, so god damn well..

I yearned to prove that my ballet skills could translate into the world of skating. I skated away from him before showcasing my unrevealed skills. I put as much strength and power into my footwork, graceful spins, and daring jumps.

 

I ended my routine with a loop jump. Gliding in front of Sunghoon As applause loudly echoed around the rink. I bowed and thanked them. I could see Sunghoon’s eye widening in astonishment. He has never seen such a mesmerizing fusion of elegance and fierce determination. He has never seen someone transition from ballet to ice skating with such ease.

 

"I guess you shouldn’t challenge someone with such competitiveness." I smiled at him before offering a handshake. "Don’t worry, love, I just went easy on you today. Don’t underestimate me." His grip around my hand was hard before he removed his hand from me. He winked and left the rink, the warm feeling leaving inside of me. Shit, I can’t lie, that was kind of cute of him.

 

Inside of Sunghoon. He was thinking the same thing, he was left in awe and admiration. He felt a newfound respect and admiration for her abilities. He finally understands why people won’t challenge her. But he will continue doing so just to see her beautiful figure gracefully glide around the ice. I just humiliated myself In front of such a beautiful girl.. this is what you get for challenging the queen of ballet. But whatever it was worth it. So worth it to see her beauty on the ice.

© filmofhybe on tumblr — do not copy , translate or share.

taglist : @surefornext

application form is now opened on my navigation post! If you want tag you can also comment here or dm me :)

a/n: miss my ice skating and dance era but anyway hope you all enjoy this imagine. It’s kinda bad icl but anything for my sunghoon fans out there. Have a nice day!!

#k labels #🐰 filmofhybe #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #sunghoon x y/n #park sunghoon #sunghoon fluff #enhypen fluff

[honeym4rk]

another mark friends-to-lovers au lol

part of the same storyline as my previous post !!!! where mark and oc are best friends in the same friend group in high school and oc starts falling for mark even though he likes to play into the running joke that they're some perfect couple.

i think i might make this another series of oneshots bc i... am not ready to write a whole full blown fic yet AHAHAHAH we'll see lol but i just wanted to put this up in case i never touch it again

here's the previous post!

---

It’s almost as if Mark wants to continue proving you wrong. Because as much as you think there’s already so much about him that’s attractive, endearing, hot, whatever; he seems to pile on even more labels and traits that make you want to melt into a puddle of nothingness. It's like he's aiming to become one of those... multi-hyphenates that the teachers in school like to talk about.

He got his stupid Driver’s License. 

And to be honest, you never really thought it was hot that people could drive- it’s literally just operating an automobile, a routine of turning the steering wheel and hitting pedals- so what about it could possibly ever evoke any sense of attractive quality to it?

Maybe you’re just biased because it’s Mark who’s driving right now, after so long of boasting about how he got his license and how he’s already “reeeaaalllyyy good”. You sit in the passenger’s seat as he drives you back home from another day at the Library, and you buckle your seatbelt just a little tighter, holding onto it in fear as he starts the car to pull out of the parking lot.

He punches at your shoulder lightly, “Hey! I promise I’m fine! Look, I can do the one handed thingy!”

“Literally, don’t. Isn’t it dangerous, or something?”

“I mean, kinda, but I swear I’ve got it down. See?”

And got it down, he does- and you can’t lie and say it wasn’t cool. Maybe even hot. His hand on the steering wheel, he turns around to look behind the car, leaning in a little closer to you, and you have to will yourself to look away from the concentration on his face, and how good he looks with his hair out and not hidden by a cap, his circle-rimmed glasses resting on his nose. Your eyes land on the knife of a jawline he has, and then they naturally travel up to his lips that are so incredibly pink and plump-

“Cool, right?” He manoeuvres successfully, and makes a straight to send you home, and you gulp, staring straight at the street in front of you. It’s almost as if his stare has a weight of its own, crushing you, pressing you to squeeze into the car door. It’s so embarrassing that you’re secretly harbouring all of these feelings, they’re so…. strange, and maybe even inappropriate since you’re just friends.

“Okay, fine, it is pretty cool. Now you just have to get me home in one piece.” You laugh, and just pray, that for the love of God, you can just get through another day without getting flustered over something stupid like this.

“Oh yeah, I wanted you to listen to this! Unlock my phone and go into my Spotify, it’s the top playlist.”

He hands you his phone, and continues, “You remember Phony Ppl, right? They had that song you liked with Megan Thee Stallion? Well, I found one of their new songs and someone in a YouTube comment said it was sampled on the first song in that playlist, but I swore it sounded like this old 5SOS song.”

Huh. Funny. The very first song in the playlist is titled ‘I Didn’t Mean To Turn You On,’ and you literally want to punch yourself in the face. You press play.

It’s a funky disco-beat- Mark’s recommendation playlist for you has been full of these songs lately. 

“Hmm, it’s fun! I love the synths, they’re going crazy. Also, love your car’s stereo? Wow!”

You’re starting to really like it, it’s groovy, it’s fun, and then she starts singing, so you look at the lyrics on his phone- they’re not synced to the song, so you just scroll, skimming through in curiosity. And in huge, bold, white letters, almost to mock you,

You read me wrong. I wasn’t trying to lead you on. I want a friend. I didn’t mean to turn you on.

Haha. Oh my God. Hahahaha. You nod your head in awkwardness, but then try to play it off by looking like you’re just doing it to the music. 

“Right?! It’s such a bop, man! And yeah, sometimes I have to stop myself from playing the music too loud. If not I can literally feel the vibrations in my fingers. Okay, anyways, the song itself is like, seven whole minutes, and gets kinda repetitive at the end, so you can just skip to the next one. Just listen to the intro!”

‘Nowhere But Up’ sounds pretty similar to the previous song, it’s pretty clear they did sample it, yet they’ve definitely made it their own since the vibe is completely different, and the lyrics are still on the screen, and Wow! They do not get any better.

So, like hold on, you, you wait, so you want me to chase you through this song? Huh, you sound crazy, you sound crazy. The last thing I remember is you said that you want me.

You chuckle sardonically before you can even stop yourself, and you should’ve seen this coming, but he asks you what’s so funny and you have to come up with a lie on the spot.

“Oh, no, the bass is ridiculously good! That part in the intro? It’s so good. This part.” You replay the part, and he agrees, “Yeah! Their bass lines are always so sick.” There is a moment of silence shared just to listen to the music, and the suffocating feeling of his eyes on you is back for a brief moment before he continues to tap the rhythm on the steering wheel, head bopping to the beat.

Then his phone buzzes, the ping interrupting your moment of solace, and you see the text message notification from Karina before he can even ask who it is. 

[karina ☺️, 2002] heeeey wru

Your heart drops to your stomach- it’s almost as if this is the perfect storm of events and it’s not even just your confirmation bias, almost as if he did play those songs to unknowingly reject you, no- almost as if he knew you how you felt, almost as if he was deliberately trying to shut you down. 

“Ooooooo! Karina just texted you.” You wiggle your eyebrows and try to force as much excitement and curiosity as possible for someone that just got their life and soul sucked out of their body. 

“Oh, um,” Mark, too, looks pretty shocked. “Can IIIIIIIII open it?” You stare intently at him, waiting for his answer, stare right at his face like he has something to explain to you. Which, he doesn’t, not necessarily. But you still feel this way anyway. He licks his lips, as if in contemplation.

“Yeah, sure. What’d she say?” 

“She just asked where you are. Are you supposed to be anywhere right now?” Hands clammy, you click on the notification. At first glance, it does look like they’ve been talking quite a bit- they even texted each other ‘gn’ three days ago. Everything is sending you into a frenzy, and you’re trying to convince yourself it’s just a normal thing people do. Friends do. You’ve texted Yeonjun ‘goodnight’ before, and it doesn’t mean anything. Where does he have to be? Are they supposed to go on a date? Where could they be possibly going on a Saturday Night? 

His voice cuts off your train of thought- “Oh, shit!” His voice cracks, and there’s just so much panic packed into the tiny space of his car, “I’m supposed to be in some Zoom Call right now, it’s for the project we’re doing. Uhhh, tell her I’m on the way home right now, I’ll be there in 5 minutes.”

You type away, and all the fear that struck terror in your soul seems to have deflated, yet it’s left your heart palpitating. You feel so stupid for feeling so worked up about this, it’s crazy. Never in your life had you thought you’d be overcome with jealousy, even if it was for a tiny moment, but you suppose that it’s really just the uncertainty that spurs it all. 

You know, since you don’t know how he feels about you. No clue at all about whether or not he reciprocates whatever stupid crush you have. He literally just recommended two songs that were about turning someone down. But then again, when has he ever sent cryptic messages through his song choices? It’s totally unlike him, and your leaping-to-conclusions- brain is just incredible at making complete nonsense of anything that’s happening. 

God, you need to convene with Minji and Ryujin again. Your hand is itching to whip your phone out to send a text, why in front of Mark you’re not too sure, maybe the desperation really has gotten to you.

“Can I take the call at your place? It’s only going to be, like, thirty minutes max, I think.” He’s come over multiple times, it really isn’t that big of a deal. It’s fine. Your mom likes him. Haha. 

“Yeah, sure, I think my mom’s home and she probably wouldn’t mind.”

The next song has started.

“Great, thanks! Oh, this was the last song I wanted to show you, the 5SOS one? Do you hear the similarity? Like the chord progressions, and the rhythm? It’s not the same synth sound, I mean, duh, it’s a guitar, but yeah.”

When you’re talking to your girls, do you talk about me? Do you tell’ em that you love me the way that I’ve been loving you?

You are seriously going to punch yourself in the face later.

---

LOL yeah um let me know what i should do with this fic should i try to flesh it out and write a whole story that really flows or just post the random scenarios agashgahee

also the songs are: i didn't mean to turn you on - cherelle nowhere but up - phony ppl girls talk boys - 5sos

go have a listen!!! they are such boppy songs lol.

#mark fluff #mark oneshot #mark blurb #mark angst #mark fanfic #mark imagine #mark au #mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee oneshot #mark lee blurb #mark lee angst #mark lee imagine #mark lee au #nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct fluff #nct oneshot #nct imagine #mark x reader #nct x reader

[igotanidea]

Outside the box: Spencer Reid x reader

A/N: OC in this story is Gideon’s daughter, Sienna, aged 28, part-time college lecturer, full time helping the BAU team, cause yes, she’s about to be the profiler like her father. Reader is a college student, aspiring to join BAU, friends with Sienna, but not her student (cause befriending your teacher would be unethical, right :D), she’s somewhere around 21. Spencer is 24, just like in season 1.

Reader and OC are obviously two different people.

Also, my first Criminal Minds fic, and I;m still on season 1 so please don't eat me alive cause I can sense heavy OOC.

Summary: someone had a stressful week, filled with task and cases and one failed exam which became the last straw in the mental breakdown. So what can be better than searching help from a friend?

@somest1 I really hope this will make you feel at least slightly better.

***

“Look who decided to show up! Did your students finally killed your enthusiasm for teaching them something?”

“Haha. Extremely funny, Morgan” Sienna scoffed and threw her backpack onto the nearest chair, stretching her back “Maybe I should ask you if my father finally killed your self-confidence, but from what I can see it’s clearly impossible.”

“I’m sorry, dr Gideon” Derek stood up and came closer to her, grabbing her waist and pulling her into his chest, making her squeak in the effect “I missed you, babe.” He added, breathing in her characteristic fresh smell.

“Stop it.” She punched his chest playfully “I had enough trouble convincing everyone I’m good and I got here only because of my knowledge and skills and not because of my father. I don’t need you trying to make my efforts futile.”

“Oh, come on. Us being together is not a secret.” He caressed her back and she shivered involuntarily.

“Sienna.” Jason’s Gideon voice came from behind and Morgan had no choice but to let her go. Normally he had no problem with PDA, but not exactly right in front of his girl’s father’s eye.

“Hello dad. Professor Brown send his regards. He’s missing you dearly.”

“I’m sure he is.” Jason muttered.  Brown was the first one to show his happiness when Gideon was called back on field.

“How’s the case going?”

“It would be going faster if you were helping…..”

“That is precisely why I am here” she grinned sending a wink towards Morgan, who just sighed deeply “Where is Mr IQ?”

“In the conference room with Elle. They are trying to put some pieces together.”

“I’m on my way to help. See you later, hon” not caring about her father gaze she raised on her tiptoes and kissed Morgan on the cheek before rushing to join Spencer and Elle.

“Don’t you got job to do as well, agent Morgan?” Jason smirked at the other man who just turned around and went to search for Patch. It was pretty funny how this macho man was turning into shy kitten whenever Gideon caught him with his daughter.

***

When Sienna got to the room the only person she found was Spencer, no Elle in sight.

“Hello, Spencer.”

“Hello Sienna. Your father mentioned you might be joining us.”

“My pleasure, so what are we working on here?”

Reid started to explain the case to her but before they got to the good part sudden commotion got their attention.

“Sienna!”

“Oh, shit, what the hell happened this time?” she muttered standing up, trying to look above the heads what or who might be the source of the furore. “WHAT?” she yelled at the top of her lungs making Reid cringe

“You are so different from your father, you know…. “ he muttered

“Yes, obviously, it’s my natural charm.”

“You got a guest, Sienna.” Patch showed himself up, crouching figure mincing behind him

“A guest? Here? Who would…..?”

“Sienna……” said figure sobbed

“Oh my god, Y/N? What happened? Why are you here?”

“I …. I had nowhere else to go….. I;m sorry. I know it’s your work and I should not interrupt, but …..”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous.” Sienna put an arm around her friends arms and led her to the nearest chair making the girl sit down out of the prying eyes of Reid and Hotch. “Go away” she mouthed at the later. “How did you get in here? I gotta admit I’m impressed, you know. Normally the security would just go through the whole procedure to let you in.

“I told them I came to see you….” Y/N sobbed “And seeing me like this….”

“Yeah, I get it. It was easy to believe you were a victim of some crime.”

“Mhm…..”

“Ok, so, stop crying and tell me what’s wrong.” Sienna put a hand on Y/N’s arm. Come on, whatever it is, I;m sure we can handle.”

“It’s professor Boston. He…. He….. I failed his test. And this whole week has just been a mess and I can’t handle all the stress….”

“Wait till you get to work…..” Sienna muttered

“Maybe you can talk to him? Convince him to cut me some slack?”

“Boston? Even my dad could not persuade that old prick to do a thing. I’m sorry, Y/N. But you know what, I got an idea” she almost jumped from her chair due to the excitement. “Just…. just wait here, ok? I’ll be right back.”

“It’s not like I have another choice, do I?” Y/N shrugged knowing her friend too well. Once Sienna set her mind into something there was no way of things going differently.

***

“Spencer. Spencer, Spencer, Spencer”

“Are you catatonic now?” Reid raised eyes onto Sienna who was now right in front of him, smiling as wide as ever.

“Not that I would know that, but no. I got a favor to ask.”

“A favor?”

“Mhm. You remember my friend, Y/n there? You have meet......”

“At the university. I know you have very little faith in me, but I remember people I work with.”

“Do you now?” Sienna raised an eyebrow, testing his patience. Around a month earlier, she forced convinced Reid to give a lecture to the students. Y/N was one of the most interested in the subject and when it ended she shyly approached him to ask some further questions. They spend like two hours talking and exchanging opinions. Also, later on, Y/N and a few more students joined some extracurricular classes that Reid also joined (meaning of course that Sienna made him join knowing it would be good for his people skills).

“She gave me some food for thoughts. She's a smart one."

“Really? What a great coincidence then. Cause I’m gonna need you to help her.”

“What? Why? With what?”

“She failed a test.”

“So? If she was studying more…..”

“Don’t be prick!” Sienna swat his head lightly “Didn’t you ever fail….. Oh, sorry, of course you did not. You got IQ of 175….”

“187.” He corrected with flat face

“you never done a thing wrong in your life.” She continued, unimpressed “You’re a genius, blah, blah, blah.”

“Now you’re just being mean.”

“Really? You don’t say." she mocked "I’m serious Reid. She could really use your help with studying.”

“I don’t think I have enough time …..”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this, damn my honor. Please, Spencer. If you refuse to help how about some comforting words at least, hm? You know, she admires you. All those things I just mocked? She believes you to be an amazing, interesting person. An all-rounder with extensive knowledge and even if I hate it I have to admit that you truly are. You’re like some role model for her…..”

“I am?” he raised an eyebrow, quite suprised.

“Sure. And I saw that look on your face when she approached you after class. You like her.”

“I don’t….. want…..”

“Go talk to her. Just that. Maybe something good will come from this or maybe not, but you got a chance to do something good to another living being. How does that sound?”

“Um…..”

“Come on, Spencer. Take a leap of faith….”

“But she’s a student….”

“She’s three years younger than you.  I know relationships with bigger age difference and they work well….” She looked across the room and her gaze focused on Morgan who was covered in some paperwork  “he’s so handsome when he’s working…..” she muttered like a love sick puppy “just glowing…..”

“Ok, fine, I’ll go! Just please stop…. Whatever this is you’re doing. “

“Thank you, Reid.” She grinned turning back to her normal self. Oh, she was a sneaky one.

***

“Y/N?”

“Yes? Doctor Reid?” the girl looked up at him, surely not expecting that this was the “idea” of Sienna. “I…. I ……”

“dr Gideon mentioned to me what happened. May I?” he asked pointing at the spot next to Y/N who eagerly nodded.

“Did she?” I’m going to kill her.

“Mhm. You know, it’s …. normal for people to mess up sometimes.”

“Speaking from experience?” she chuckled and he followed “Maybe I am just stupid…..”

“You’re not stupid.” He panted without any hesitation. ”This is just an inconvenience. Like in the investigation. We are begin misled dozens of times. We are being played with, questioned, fooled at times, forced to change the approach, the strategy. But all those little obstacles are what steer us in the right direction. Mistakes happen, sometimes regardless of us. And you are not stupid. You would never make it this far if you were.“

“How can you tell? You don’t know me.”

“I know enough from your classes and Sienna’s stories."

“She’s been talking about me?”

“sometimes. Quite impressive things. And I know first-handed she’s not the one to get easily impressed. Did you know she laughed at my IQ?” he blurted without thinking. Why was this girl affecting him like this?

“Sounds like her. “ Y/n laughed “But that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“ For now. “

“How so?”

“Moliere once said the greater the obstacle, the more glory in overcoming it. And you seem like a strong person. You…..you would be a good addition to the team. You have analytical brain and good instincts.”

“Again, how can you tell?”

“You asked me good questions back at those lectures. And I saw you working on the cases Sienna assigned to you as extra tasks. You are resilient, not giving up easily. And I'm sure you are not going to give up now."

"Now I can tell you are working with the profilers." she smiled sadly “but I don’t think that me putting in effort and being stubborn is enough. This class is ..... " she sighed, a few unmentionable words on the tip of her tounge "If I fail......"

"And what if you pass? Why not focus on the good outcome?"

"Oh, you;re a scientist. Don't bullshit me with wishful thinking."

"It's scientifically proven that good thoughts stimulate production of serotonin. And that helps you relax and focus better on the task."

"Hm." she muttered "I;d rather just have a piece of chocolate. I can't mess it up again."

“You won’t” he blurted out

“How…..?”

“I’ll help you. “

“You what now?” she spat angrily but quickly realised her wrongdoing “I'm sorry….” Her eyes widened in fear when she realized she was talking to the guy who was so much smarter and more esteemed than her “sorry, dr Reid, I did not mean to ….”

“You can call me Spencer. It’s … nice to be treated like a normal person, for once.”

“So…..” she looked at the floor “you’ll help me?”

“Yes. And then you’ll see that if anything you are rather too smart for this. Someone once told me to think outside the box….”

“Thank you!” she smiled through tears and without thinking hugged surprised boy who held his breath for a second. Just for a second and then relaxed.

“You’re welcome.” he patted her back awkwardly. This was suprisingly comforting. Maybe he could get used to that.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x oc #criminal minds

[wildskissed]

GET TO KNOW ME MEME ! !

NAME — pyro, but some of you know me by my name/name PRONOUNS — she/her SEXUALITY — demisexual, which is admittedly why a few of my more popular muses are as well, because it's easy to write, lol SINGLE / TAKEN — taken

THREE FACTS

— I used to teach preschool — I’m a published author — My ideas were used for a few episodes of a very popular cult phenomenon show that ran for 15 years...

EXPERIENCE

HOW LONG — Have I been writing? Since 6th grade. My teacher added an extra credit part to our weekly homework packets for me because I was always writing random short stories in class in my free time and she thought it would be fun if we all had a chance to do that. RPing? Since 2006, and it was on a Star Trek forum that no longer exists. It was also fully comprised of OCs only, so it boggled my mind--still does--that when I came to Tumblr that was so frowned upon, because that was all I knew. WHAT PLATFORMS — A couple of forums, one for Start Trek and one that was a world that my sister and I created that took off with our friends and some other people we never met in real life, lol. We also did Twitter RP for a while for FanFic characters, and then I ended up on Tumblr, and very rarely do a I sometimes do Discord RP. BEST EXPERIENCE — I love Tumblr most days, but those forums were hands down the best. We all collaborated on ideas, and we all gushed about each other's OC's, and we genuinely wanted everyone to have a good time. We also got really into editing and manips, which was why when I was involved in said cult phenomenon, I used to make fan videos too by meshing different shows and movies together. I still do that occasionally, but mostly I just work on my own novels, lol. Honestly, probably why Eve has taken off as she has with the group of you that I've surrounded myself with because we all do the same--we collaborate and gush and protect each other.

MUSE TYPE

FEMALE OR MALE — I heavily lean towards female muses. I don't know why that is, because I do have male muses that I have used in the past, and I love writing male characters, but I have never been able to stick with one that I RPed. Because of that, I absolutely RP females constantly. FLUFF , ANGST OR SMUT — I love them all! Angst is my niche though. I've been known for it in every serious writing group I have ever been in, but I still love fluff and I do love smut if I'm in the mood for it. I try not to turn cute threads into angst too, but I know that I'm guilty of that sometimes, haha. PLOTS OR MEMES — ALL OF THE ABOVE LONG OR SHORT REPLIES — I prefer longer replies, but I understand that those can take a toll, and sometimes, I'm more in the mood for a shorter quippy thread, you know? So, it really depends on the mood, and how my partner is feeling. BEST TIME TO WRITE — When I have the muse to. That's such a response, but, it's just true. I have such limited time because of my work schedule, so I'm mostly on in the mornings or on Sundays, but honestly, you can't force writing to happen. You really gotta go with the flow. ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S) — I mean...yes and no? I have muses that I have absolutely nothing in common with, but I also feel like, most of us pick muses that we at least see one trait in common with them? Easier to write what you know? Like I write L.ove Q.uinn, but I wouldn't say I am like her. I have a mothering streak like Eve does, and I can be a bit of an arrogant brat like Y.ennefer, but I don't know that I'd ever compare myself to my muses, lol.

TAGGED BY STOLEN FROM: the dash and i can't remember from whom TAGGING: @illithidploy, @arcanecast, @shadovan, @miidnighters, @dxnse-macabre, @fereldensheroes, @altrxisme, @luposcainus, @championsofthegate, @alittlebitofmuse, @wolf-eyes-wolf-soul, and you ! !

#╰•★ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏᴏᴅꜱ★ [ooc] #and that's on that lol

[diorkyeom]

‘✷’ : CHAPTER FOUR “in the eye of every beholder”

<< prev chapter | ao3 fic | next chapter >>

chapter word count: 3.6k+

chapter warnings: none (other than seokmin wanting to murder ksy)(with good intentions)

summary: "lately, seokmin had come to a realisation. joshua hong, seokmin thought, was a little bit of an enigma." - in which seokmin has known joshua for years, but he's always been a bit of a mystery to him. and as the days go by, he finds himself falling further and further for the enigmatic man, wanting to find out who the real Joshua Hong is behind his polite smiles and warm eyes and sweet words.

notes: introducing my oc teacher characters!!! i kinda wrote myself into a corner by having no one else in svt being teachers lmao so i had to make up new friends for seokmin when he’s at school haha ^^

“Good morning, Seokmin. Why do you look like you managed to get zero sleep last night?”

Seokmin laughed into his coffee as he set his bag down at his desk in their department office. “Uh, that might be because I didn’t.”

“You didn’t?” Yuna, one of the other teachers in the department, looked at him concernedly as she turned on her own computer. “Why? Don’t tell me you left your marking to the last minute again.”

Seokmin sipped his drink, contemplating for a moment, before just smiling. “You caught me there."

Telling the truth and saying that he'd been staying awake to talk with one of his not-quite-friends by the river until sunrise about anything and everything would have been weird, anyway. 

Before the woman had the chance to tell him off, however, the door to the department office swung open, and one of the other literature teachers swept in amongst a whirl of papers.

“Good morning, you two,” Hayoung chirped, dumping her papers down at her desk before grinning at them, pushing her glasses up as she bent down to pick up the papers that had been dropped. “Hey, why does Seokmin look like he’s half dead?”

Seokmin rolled his eyes at the two women, turning to his own computer and attempting to turn the monitor on. “You’re both so mean.”

Hayoung just laughed, shuffling her papers together and pulling out her own chair to sit down. “We care about you, brat. That’s all. Did something happen?”

“No,” Seokmin said, typing in his user and password. “I’m fine, I promise. Just procrastinated marking my children’s homework, that’s all.”

“Ah,” Hayoung said wisely. “Totally understandable. I do that all the time.”

Yuna sighed, shaking her head. “You two are utterly insane. I could never leave my marking that late.”

“Good morning!” another voice trilled, and all three literature teachers looked up to see another one of their colleagues hop into the room, looking buzzed up on far too much caffeine. “Did you hear that they’re already interviewing people to replace the teachers that left?”

“Minjun,” Yuna remarked dryly as the man accidentally bumped into Hayoung’s table and knocked over her pile of papers. “Why are you so hyper so early in the morning?”

“They’re already interviewing potential new teachers?” Seokmin asked interestedly. At the desk next to him, Hayoung wailed over the fallen papers that she’d just picked up. “That was fast.”

“I know right?” Minjun said, setting down his bag and his coat at his desk. “Apparently they’ve already found the new teachers they wanna hire for the music department. One of them is starting in a couple of weeks, actually.”

Seokmin shook his head. “That’s insane. I hope they’re prepared to deal with being thrown into the curriculum halfway through the year.”

Minjun laughed. “Yeah." He jabbed his finger in the direction of the door. "Also, the first class of the day started three minutes ago.”

All three literature teachers jumped at his words, looking over at the clock before collectively scrambling to gather their things and get to their students.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Seokmin said despairingly, accidentally stepping on some of Hayoung’s papers as he left the room. “Sorry, Hayoung!”

Minjun just continued laughing as he waved them out of the office. “I don’t have any classes until the afternoon. Have a nice day, you guys!”

Yuna yelled back something intelligible as both she and Seokmin hurried down the corridor, Hayoung still picking up her papers in the office. 

"I'll see you at break," Yuna said quickly before pushing open the door to her classroom, instantly calling out for her children to settle down. 

Seokmin shook his head, smiling, before walking into his own class too, pushing the door open with his foot and carrying his lesson materials in his arms. 

"Yes, yes, I'm here now," he said, and the delighted cries of "Mr. Lee!" made him smile even wider. "Good morning, has everyone's morning been good?"

He walked to the front of the classroom, humming interestedly and laughing as some of the children told him very seriously that they wouldn't mind at all if his lesson killed them so early on in the day just so they wouldn't have to proceed with their other classes. 

This particular grade class was, in fact, his favourite, and teaching these students always managed to bring a smile to his face purely because he could tell that so many of these bright children would go on to become adults that he could proudly tell others he had the privilege of teaching in their youth. 

“Today, we’ll be starting a new unit,” Seokmin announced as he set his things down in the classroom, “and it’ll be on poems.”

There were a mixture of groans and cheers in response to his announcement, and Seokmin grinned, clasping his hands together and walking across the front of the class. 

“I know, I know, but poetry is fun, I promise! Besides, I managed to convince them to look at a more interesting poem, which I'm sure you'll enjoy.” 

His statement was met with unimpressed stares, but Seokmin just grinned wider, moving back to the desk to pick up a marker and then walking over to the whiteboard. 

He uncapped the dry marker and wrote the word ‘Homer’ on the board, drawing a circle around it. “Now, what do you think of when you see this name? Yes, Hyeongjung?”

“Homer Simpson!”

Seokmin paused, narrowing his eyes playfully at the boy. “Okay, other than the Simpsons. How is the name Homer significant in literature? Jiyeon, what do you think?”

“Didn’t he write the Iliad?”

Seokmin smiled, writing ‘Iliad’ beside the name. “Well done. We don’t actually know if he did write the Iliad, but that epic poem, along with the Odyssey, are often attributed to Homer, so we call him the author anyway. The ‘Odyssey’ is what we’ll be focusing most on,” he said, writing down both the poems on the board, “but first, we’ll be taking a brief look at Greek mythology.”

There were gasps of excitement amongst the children, and Seokmin grinned again. 

“Now, can anyone name some of the Ancient Greek gods to me?”

───────────── ‘✷,

“See you tomorrow, you guys,” Seokmin said to the last few teachers still in the office as he shouldered his bag, getting ready to leave work for the day. “How long are you all planning to stay here?”

Yuna just hummed, clacking away at her keyboard. “I haven’t finished making quotation flashcards for my children yet. And I need to print and laminate them, too.”

Seokmin winced in sympathy. “Good luck. I tried making quotation flashcards for some of my classes last year, and it’s a lot of work.”

“Yeah, I know,” Yuna laughed. She waved a hand in Seokmin’s direction, not even looking at him. “I’ll be fine. You, however, need to get some sleep, Mr. Lee. You still look dead on your feet. See you tomorrow.”

“See you,” Seokmin said, taking the statement for the dismissal that it was, smiling. “Don’t work yourself too hard, okay?”

And with that, he stepped out of the office, fishing out his phone and texting him a quick "on my way!". The elder had messaged him, around an hour ago, asking if Seokmin wanted to meet up in one of the cafes near Seokmin’s school, and of course he’d said yes. Having coffee with Jeonghan was always fun, because it was never really about the coffee and more about the talking. 

It had been a while since he’d met up with Jeonghan one-on-one, anyways, so it would be fun.

“Jeonghan hyung!”

The moment Seokmin stepped into the cafe, the door’s wind chimes tinkling in his wake, he called out to Jeonghan and grinned as the elder looked up with a wave.

“Seokmin-ah,” Jeonghan said, smiling as he gestured to the chair opposite him for Seokmin to sit down. “How are you doing? How was work?”

"It was okay," Seokmin shrugged, before beaming as Jeonghan slid over a croissant. "Aw, hyung, did you buy this for me?"

"You have to pay me back," Jeonghan said, but he was smiling fondly. In all the years that Seokmin had known Jeonghan, he'd never really had to pay him back for anything he bought him. "This place is crazy expensive."

Seokmin just laughed, instantly pulling apart the croissant before his eyes lit up as Jeonghan also slid over a teacup, seemingly procuring it out of nowhere. "Why are we here then?"

"You like their mochas, don't you?" Jeonghan said, tapping the mug. "See, Seokmin, I know these things."

"I'm so honoured you pay so much attention to me, hyung," Seokmin said, half teasing, and happily sipped his coffee. "Mmm. Delicious."

Jeonghan grinned. 

It was earlier than Seokmin normally left work, and there were still people milling around in the cafe. The sun was lingering in the sky, not quite setting yet but also not quite high enough to look like it was doing anything other than drowsily going to bed, casting golden-orange light through the windows and across the tables. The buzz of chatter created a lively ambience, but it was a gentle liveliness that allowed Seokmin's shoulders to relax and smile over at Jeonghan as the elder leaned his elbows on the table, eyes glittering. 

"Speaking of knowing things, though," Jeonghan said, and Seokmin's shoulders reluctantly tensed once again. "I think you know what other thing I know about you, right?"

Seokmin groaned, about to faceplant into the table before he realised that a) they were in public and b) he had a hot coffee right where his head would have landed. So he settled with kicking Jeonghan under the table again. 

"Hey!" Jeonghan swiftly kicked him back and then carried on talking, grinning deviously. "Joshua talked about it with you, didn't he? During the last Game Night."

"Don't kick me back! I—wait, what?" Seokmin paused, frowning. "He… didn't talk about it at all."

Now that Seokmin thought about it, Joshua never brought up their encounters in conversations. Not the flower incident, or the gym incident, or the awkward "I've been asking all our friends about you" incident. It was as if he wasn't making a big deal out of it, waiting for Seokmin to talk about it first, making sure that Seokmin was comfortable with broaching the subject and if he wasn't, then Joshua wouldn't say anything. 

Wow. Seokmin blinked. He found himself really… touched.

Jeonghan, however, frowned, looking put-out by Joshua's thoughtfulness. "Aw. I thought he'd try to talk to you about it. That’s a shame.”

Seokmin looked over warily, slowly taking a bite out of his croissant, flakes of pastry getting all around his mouth. “Why is that a shame? What did you want him to say?”

“I wanted him to ask you about it, of course!” Jeonghan said. “I wanted him to ask you why you were doing that, because he kept asking me about it instead. And I said to him, “You gotta just ask Seokmin himself, Joshuji. I don’t know anything about it.”, but it appears that he didn’t follow my advice.”

“You just want to know yourself, don’t you?” Seokmin said. He wiped at the crumbs on his cheeks, failing in his attempts to clean his face since his fingers were all flake-covered too. “Don’t lie. Joshua hyung’s really sweet and chill. You’re the nosy one.”

Jeonghan laughed, not looking the least bit offended. “Well, you’re kind of right. But I’m still trying to get him to talk to you.”

“Huh?” Seokmin frowned. “Why?”

Jeonghan just hummed, giving Seokmin a tight-lipped smile and shook his head, drumming his fingers against the table. “Did anything interesting happen at work today? I do wanna know how your day went, Seokmin.”

It was a clear sign to change the topic, and Seokmin decided to take it. With enough wheedling, he would probably have been able to push Jeonghan for the answers he wanted on the Joshua thing, but he didn’t really have the energy. Jeonghan was weak for him, but not that weak. And after a long day at work, Seokmin was kinda tired.

“Um, apparently they’re already interviewing for the potential new teachers,” Seokmin said. “And they’ve found replacement music teachers that are gonna start in a few weeks.”

“New music teachers?” Jeonghan asked, tilting his head interestedly. “I see.”

Seokmin nodded, sipping his coffee. “It’s all just rumours for now. Minjun’s really good at getting accurate pieces of information, though, so there’s a pretty good chance that it’s the truth.”

“Minjun?” Jeonghan watched as Seokmin set down his coffee mug, before promptly swiping it and taking a sip thoughtfully, ignoring Seokmin’s indignant cry. “Why does that name sound familiar?”

Seokmin swiftly snatched back his coffee, taking another sip while pouting at Jeonghan. "He's been the head of my department for years, hyung. Maybe you heard it from me?"

"No, I think Joshua had a friend called Minjun," Jeonghan said, watching blankly as Seokmin finished the rest of his croissant. "They went to uni together. They were pretty decent friends, I think, promising to help each other with job offers and stuff."

"Well." Seokmin shrugged. "I dunno. Minjun's never mentioned a friend named Joshua. Maybe it's another Minjun?"

Jeonghan's gaze focused back on Seokmin again, and he grinned. "Maybe. Anyway, what about lessons? What were you teaching your kids this time?”

Seokmin beamed, visibly lighting up at the chance to talk about his students. “Oh! You know that one class which is my utter favourite? I’m going over the ‘Odyssey’ with them now, and we were studying Ancient Greek mythology today. Everyone has a weird fixation on Poseidon, though, and I gotta find a way to break it to them that he’s kinda as much of an asshole as Zeus is.”

Jeonghan snorted. “Tell them that story of how he kidnapped a woman, maybe?”

Seokmin blinked innocently. “Which one?”

That made the elder laugh, eyes twinkling. “Did you tell them the story of the golden apple, too? That one’s always fun. It’s like an introduction to the Trojan War, too.”

“I did! You know, the first thing I did was ask them, ‘Who is the prettiest god’ and the amount of people who said Aphrodite… like, oh boy. You’d think that people have learned their lesson by now,” Seokmin said. “But, did you hear about how Aphrodite isn’t just one type of beauty? She is beauty, embodying everything that it means to be beautiful. So she’s mysterious and kind and liked by everyone, and she’s beautiful in everyone’s eyes.”

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, huh?” Jeonghan said, leaning forward. His laughter had died down, and he looked curiously invested in what Seokmin was saying. “So… you could say she’s beautiful and… elusive at the same time?”

“Exactly!” Seokmin chirped. “She's an enigma. She changes to fit everyone else. Her beauty fits the eye of every beholder. In a really mysterious, it-kinda-makes-sense but also it-doesn’t-make-sense kind of way.”

Jeonghan quirked a grin. “Really? Tell me more, I wanna know.”

If it were anyone else saying that, with that decidedly devious grin on their face, Seokmin would have been more suspicious. But Jeonghan always either looked like he was plotting something or was about to fall asleep, and so Seokmin didn't think anything of it. 

Besides, if Jeonghan was plotting something, then the results would normally reveal themselves eventually. Most of the time, it was for a good cause, anyway. 

Hopefully. 

───────────── ‘✷,

"Kwon Soonyoung," Seokmin muttered through gritted teeth as he plodded down the street,"I am going to murder you."

Seokmin was late to school.

Well, he was late to work, but his work essentially was a school, so it was the same thing. And, like most misfortunes in Seokmin’s life, it was kind of all Soonyoung’s fault.

Soonyoung had fallen ill, having caught some sort of cold that rendered him unable to even move his head. Seokmin said it was from that time he’d worked overtime and had to come home in the rain with no umbrella. Soonyoung strongly disagreed. With pillows thrown at Seokmin's head. 

Nevertheless, Seokmin had had to take care of him that morning, running around while trying to get ready for work and dig out their tissue boxes from somewhere and give Soonyoung some painkillers with a glass of water and quickly make some canned soup because if Soonyoung didn’t have at least a bowl of soup on the first morning of a sickness, then he’d be ill for an entire month and complain to Seokmin the entire time.

By the end of it, the soup was only half eaten and most of the glass of water had made its way onto the floor and Seokmin hadn’t had time to have breakfast or brush his hair. And he was late.

The first lesson of the day was already in full swing by the time he managed to trudge into school, having given up on actually getting there on time, shooting a quick email to the office to get them to send a sub to his class. They’d better get used to subs just in case, anyway. Soonyoung managed to sneeze on him a total of fifteen times in an hour. There was a pretty good chance that Seokmin was sick too.

“Mr. Lee!” Dowoon, one of the history teachers, called out in surprise when Seokmin dragged himself into the staffroom, already exhausted. “You’re not normally here in the mornings.”

“Mr. Kang,” Seokmin greeted, immediately going over to the instant coffee machine. “Yeah, I had to take care of my sick friend this morning, so I ended up running late. I’ve given up on getting to my first two classes. It’s a double period,” he elaborated, “so it’s the same class of children. I’ll let them have two hours of free time to themselves.”

Dowoon chuckled, downing his own instant coffee. “You’re very generous,” he said. “Oh, did you hear that the new music teacher has started? Just began today, I believe.”

“Already?” Seokmin asked, surprised, taking out his coffee. “Wow, that was fast. Minjun was telling us that they’d start in two weeks, and I guess he was right.”

“That man and his crazy hunches,” Dowoon laughed, shaking his head. He put the empty paper cup into the bin, walking towards the door. “Well, enjoy your own free hour, Seokmin. I’ll be off now.”

“Have a nice day!” Seokmin called back.

And then the history teacher left, leaving a thoughtful silence in his wake.

It was calm in the staffroom, as it normally was on mornings. There were a few teachers sitting around, but most were in lessons, and the sun streamed into the largely empty room, casting light on the ornamental bookshelf and the weirdly shaped fake potted plant in the corner.

Seokmin’s lips twitched upwards. Joshua would have probably liked the strange decor in their staff room.

He leisurely finished his coffee, looking out through the windows at the green field by the side of the school, watching the children playing sports. Then, throwing the empty cup away, Seokmin shouldered his bag again and walked out of the room. There was still a decent amount of time before his next class, and he basically had the entirety of the school to himself to wander around in. He could snoop into wherever he wanted. 

Well. He grinned, turning down one corridor. Maybe it was time to visit the music department. Perhaps he’d find something interesting to tell Seungkwan.

The sound of singing filled his ears as he entered the music hallway, and he instinctively chuckled, recognising the tune of the school anthem they were singing. It must be one of the younger years in class right now, he mused. They sounded like they were learning the song for the first time. 

He carefully peered into the classroom through the window of the door, chuckling as he watched the teacher conduct the children as they dutifully sang along to the lyrics that were on the board. He drew away, however, when the sound of a door clicking open echoed from around the corner, and voices sounded. 

"—lively community here, sir, and we think that you'd be a brilliant addition to the music department. We could use your knowledge here to help strengthen our students." 

That was the voice of the head of the music department, which Seokmin recognised. Her voice was fluid, smooth and gentle and Minjun said that she'd been a world-famous opera singer before settling down at their school. Like most things Minjun said, it was probably true. 

"Thank you very much, Miss," a new voice said, and Seokmin stilled. He blinked, not sure whether he really did recognise that voice or whether his brain was playing tricks on him. 

"Of course," the woman said. "We hope you feel welcome here in our school."

There were more pleasantries exchanged, and then the sound of the office door swinging shut. Seokmin panicked as dress shoes clicked down the corridor, closer and closer to where he was, feeling oddly like a child having been caught eavesdropping as he straightened and stepped away from the wall, before accidentally ending up colliding right into the man who had been walking around the corner. 

"Hello!" The man said in surprise. Steady hands reached out to firmly hold onto his shoulders, and Seokmin was quickly pulled away from a warm and solid chest and found himself staring into big, brown eyes instead. Big, brown eyes that widened in shock and then melted into a look that was so soft and so familiar that it made Seokmin's heart immediately begin to beat faster. 

Seokmin sputtered, temporarily speechless. "Joshua?"

taglist (interact here/ send ask to be added): @fairyhaos @atinytinaa @my-moarmy-heart @weird-life-of-a-closet-fangirl @lilsafsafbooyah @stqrrgirle @bittersweet-folder @weird-bookworm @ultrara-re @tianakings @bangantokchy @tiinkerbell @ahuiahoe @trashmeowcan

#diorkyeom ᰔ fics #svt #seventeen #svt fic #dokyeom #joshua #seoksoo #seventeen fic #dokyeom fluff #joshua fluff #dokyeom fic #dk fic #joshua fic #joshua hong #svt dokyeom #svt joshua #svt seokmin #lee seokmin #svt x reader #svt au #seventeen imagines #svt imagines #ao3 #ao3 writer #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fluff #fanfic

[xxchocobunm]

Heyyya

Saw that you were accepting requests but Im not really sure if you do x reader.

If you can, can you write something Eito x reader? If you're fine with it of course ^o^

Like where it's like mutual pining, it looks like they're married but they haven't even touch each others' hands. (I'm fine with any gender you give to the reader rlly)

(feel free to ignore it if you're not comfortable or if you don't want to write it : ) )

Requested by Anonymous M ---

I had a fun time writing this because I get to sarcasm on some mutual pining couple XD

I was planning to make the reader a non-binary but I kinda sucks at writing one but one day, I will make an x non-binary reader

By the way, enjoy and I will continue to write on the other requests as well. I will also put this on my A03, feel free to check it's on my carrd.com

Just for a little info, I could do an x oc but forgive my neurodivergent brain because I will be needing more info than basics.

Ok, ok, now enjoy

Hidden feelings | Eito x F! Reader

Author's POV

It was those usual work days where Y/N was just working all of her teacher duties in the teacher’s room. Being an extra substitute teacher who guides art battlers makes her unpopular with the students. As a result, nobody bats an eye at the art substitute teacher when she walks around the school halls, except the teachers.

This results in you getting into the unpopular teacher club (unofficially). But well, there's one of the teachers that caught your eye.

Ifrit Djinn Eito, or what the others call Eito-sensei.

Eventually, he will be one of the official teachers who works fully there. But the reason he was in the unofficial unpopular teachers club was that he was a security teacher, but he was also in charge of a class from time to time. So he has barely been seen by the other students.

But he really caught her eyes in some ways. When it got to the point, the two of them start talking a lot which caught the attention of other teachers and a few curious students.

Back to the case, Y/N was talking about the stuff her art batler was preparing since there’s a lot of work to do for the batler party for the junior students. While Eito was busy talking about the patrols he will be doing. 

Of course, everyone knows how the two of them were close enough but are obliviously pining for each other at this point. 

“At this point, I’m going to lose all the money I’m betting on them.” Murmur grunted while Ipos patted his back as he was bringing about the bet Dali made about how long this (ahem) oblivious couple were going to be together officially. 

“Aww, at least we never knew. Their desires will soon reach out!” Raim smirked, as her tail was swinging from excitement. Of course, as a succubus, she must know much about love, that is. 

“Even so, I do hope they confess their feelings.” Marbas sighed from the stress he had after correcting the student’s grades for his torture class. 

While the teachers were busy talking, the fire demon and the art teacher were very busy by themselves. 

“You know, you need any help. I could always lend a hand; my patrols are a little slack since we have had much help before.” Eito said while leaning back on the teacher's couch, while Y/N chuckled at the offer.

“I appreciate it, Eito-san. But it seems we receive lots of strong first-year students.” The art teacher flattered, putting her hands together in a clap. As she was supposed to place her hands down, she accidentally placed one of her hands on Eito’s left palm. 

At first, it did go unnoticed by these two demons, who are so oblivious that they might never see that the world might end (I just love over-sarcasm).

It was Y/N who noticed it first. It makes Eito confused when Y/N’s face has gone red before he looks at the same post as Y/N and is instantly in the same condition as her. Then Y/N quickly took her hand back before clearing her throat. 

“I-I’m sorry!” She mumbles loud enough for Eito to hear. “I didn’t notice, Eito-san. My apologies; you must be uncomfortable.”

He shook his hands off in denial of Y/N’s statement. “Oh no, no, it’s fine; it feels good! I mean, bad. I mean-” He cleared his throat as well, regaining his confidence and standing up.

One was trying to calm down, while the other was keeping his confidence and so-

“I need to go patrolling/looking at my student’s work!” 

.

.

.

“Uh…” Both of them were dumbfounded and paused by the awkward moment. Before they clear their thoughts, “Uhm, I guess we should end it, Eito-san?” Y/N nervously gulped and was going to end this awkward tension as soon as possible. 

Eito on the other hand, was already reaching out, clearing his throat again with his fist and nodding before leaving. But before he could, he gave one last look at Y/N and left.

Y/N on the other hand, was flabbergasted, stuttering at what she had just witnessed and experienced. She sighed, sitting on the couch, hiding her face from the joy she felt while secretly glancing at her right palm.

Oh, Derkila…

How long does she need to keep these hidden feelings away? For a specific fire demon, to be exact. 

—

BONUS

“Oh my god, I’m so fucking stupid!” Eito’s tail began to swish left and right from frustation while his face went red as he was facing down, looking ashamed if one of his students saw him this weak. Eito looks at his left palm, reminiscing about Y/N’s touch. 

.

.

.

“Oh dear Derkila,” he gulped, having thought to himself, “What if she knows I’m craving for her touch?" He admitted it to himself and continued to walk along the empty hall, wondering what fate would bring for him. 

Y/N should have known that she had already had her feelings reciprocated. 

#mairimashita! iruma kun #m!ik #reader #ifrit djinn eito #murmur tsumuru #Raim #Marbas march #requests

[twisted-in-underland]

“Come now darling, lean into the drama! A little more flair won’t hurt anybody~”

All credit for the og sprite belongs to the Twisted Wonderland team and Yana Toboso! The info template belongs to @unfinished-projects-galore here on tumblr!

(More info under the cut)

Now that I’m taking a break from Morrigan’s designs, here’s a non-student oc that I’ve recently come up with! I’m not gonna lie, I was really inspired by this adorable CrewelxReader fic! It’s super cute 🤧

Crewel is one of my favourite non-student characters so I’m indulging a bit. It was also completely coincidental that Stella and Yuri have similar hair and eye colours! I didn’t realize it until I had already committed to Stella’s design 🙃

Anywho, here’s some info about Stella!

Stella is inspired by Estella Von Hellman; Cruella’s meeker personality from the 2021 live action Cruella

I chose Estella because I thought she would be a nice complimentary character to Crewel

Stella Crewel is Divus Crewel’s wife and business partner

Stella is usually a soft spoken and gentle woman. She can sometimes come off as shy at first, though in reality she prefers to step away from the spotlight unless it’s necessary.

However, this doesn’t mean Stella is a pushover or insecure. Shes actually very confident in herself, her position, and her abilities. She is more than willing to put someone in their place if they’re out of line, it’s just that she isn’t as impulsive as you might expect.

Stella is known to hide threats and insults behind sweet words and passive aggressive comments which tends to throw off people who don’t know her well.

Stella is also known to be an exceptional designer who’s often praised for her work, though she isn’t egocentric. While her visions almost always turn out how she wants them, Stella is humble enough to admit when something doesn’t work out.

I think the idea of Crewel having a fashion brand is very fitting for him, especially if the brand was established prior to him becoming a teacher.

Stella and Crewel originally split most of the work for the brand since they started it together. Now that Crewel is teaching at NRC, Stella primarily looks over things

Stella was born and raised in the Queendom of Roses, though like Epel, was raised in a small village rather than a bigger town.

I don’t have a name in mind for this little village but I imagine it’s a port town located near the edges of one of the island that make up the Queendom

The village is also rather poor, or at least poorer than say the town Riddle and Trey grew up in.

Because of this, Stella had very little growing up, though it’s made her learn to work hard for what she wants and to appreciate what she has.

Stella didn’t meet Crewel until after she moved out of her village when she was in her early teens.

Stella claims to have gone to a coed mage school that had boarding for the students.

She thinks the idea of gendered boarding schools are odd. This is likely because she’s always attended coed schools.

I don’t have a name for Stella’s mage school (I can’t think of a good one) but I imagine it’s a smaller school similar to Noble Bell College.

I imagine that there may be a “historical figure” based off Cruella di Ville (or maybe even the Baroness from the live action movie).

The statue would serve the same purpose as the Greate Seven statues at NRC or the "Jester Judge" statue at NBC.

Aside from its focus on teaching mages to control their magic, this particular school also has a big focus on fashion and the arts

A lot of alumni from this mage school go on to be well known in the arts, whether it’s fine arts, theater, fashion design, etc.

Stella was top of her classes while at school

Stella prefers to have a few good friends than have a lot of superficial friends

Aside from her husband, she only really has four close friends. Two of them are childhood friends from her original village (TWST!Jasper and TWST!Horace), one is a friend she made when she moved to the city (TWST!Anita Darling), and one is a friend she made while attending mage school (TWST!Artie)

Stella overall has a “quality is better than quantity” mentality. She’d rather have or make things that are good quality even if there isn’t much of it, than have/make a large quantity of things that are of poor quality.

Stella has alluded to knowing skills like lock picking and even pick pocketing, skills she likely learned in her early childhood.

While Stella primarily takes care of the fashion brand while Crewel is teaching, she will sometimes substitute for him if need be

I can’t imagine that Crewel would call out often. He gives me the impression that he knows what he wants from his students and has a certain way of doing things that he doesn’t trust others to accomplish successfully.

He’d much rather have a meeting rescheduled or push through like a mild cold than figure out sub plans 💀

BUT, on the rare occasion that Stella convinces Crewel to take a break and find a sub, she’s usually the one he asks to take over for him

Stella has only covered for Crewel a small handful of times, so many NRC students don’t know that Crewel is married.

It was Stella’s idea to invite Yuri to stay with them during holiday breaks following Jamil’s overblot

It wasn’t until Stella and Yuri were standing next to each other that Crewel realized how much they look alike

Ngl I think it would be really funny if Yuri was mistaken as Stella and Crewel’s kid, especially b/c I love the idea of Crewel being Yuu/the MC’s unintentional father figure 🤧

Stella is the one who dyed the white half of Crewel’s hair. They have little spa nights that include root touch ups for Crewel 💕

Stella and Crewel have three Dalmatians named Louis, Parada, and Versace. Louise was Stella’s dog prior to the marriage while Parada and Versace were Crewel’s dogs.

Louis is a mama’s boy and is the most sociable of the three dogs. Parada and Versace are Crewel’s little princesses 💕

Let me have dog dad Crewel, it would be so cute 😭💕

And here she is! So fun fact, when I was coming up with Stella’s base sprite I kind of Frankensteined Leona, Epel, and Vil’s sprites. I like the position of Leona’s arms and Vil’s legs, but I liked Epel more as a starting point. Stella is a fair bit shorter than Crewel, so using a shorter character felt like a better choice.

I also really liked a lot of the costumes used in Cruella, I think a lot of Cruella/Estella’s outfits were really cool in the movie! Since I was basing Stella more on Estella’s character I used a few different pieces from Estella’s various costumes to come up with Stella’s outfit. Stella also wears more red and black clothes while white being more of an accent, compared to Crewel who’s has a predominantly black and white outfit with red as the accent. I thought it was fitting for red to be more prominent so it matched Stella’s hair colour. Stella’s earring is also a little call back to the animated Cruella’s iconic teal earrings!

Feel free to ask any questions, my ask box is always open!

#twisted wonderland #twst oc #twisted wonderland oc #twst #Stella Crewel #Cruella de vil inspired oc #Estella von Hellman inspired oc #original character #oc #my oc art #my ocs #my art #artists on tumblr

[lake-archive]

Chapter 7 - Side By Side

AO3 Link

Fandom: Ensemble Stars

Series: Ein schlafender Ritter und die Liebe

Characters: Ritsu Sakuma, Anja-Sophia 'Ann' Wolff (OC), Eli (OC by @watersofcamelot)

Summary: Hearing that a certain someone has caused trouble at school again Ann is on her way to solve this issue… However, she sees that certain someone and Ritsu side by side… And things start to click.

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Honestly, being called up was no longer a rarity for Ann. Especially since they were the one in charge, having to ensure that he is going to make it through the year. He? Oh, right, he could be just about anyone in this case. So long story short, there is someone attending Yumenosaki Academy under Ann’s request. Or rather, she had shoved him to the location for one simple reason: Get out there and let your talent be known to the world! Train for the big stage and don’t just sit in the corner out of fear. At least that was Ann’s plan when they had forcefully applied Eli to Yumenosaki without him noticing. And he passed the entrance exam, as expected from their younger brother! Though he wasn’t too pleased at first.

“Seriously Sis? You should’ve told me before pulling such a stunt! I can’t believe you!” He had complained shortly after this was over on the phone yet their only response was the following:

“If I would’ve told you, you would’ve ran off and backed off instantly. I couldn’t risk that. So if asking you won’t work, then giving you no other choice will~”

"Seriously? You’re unbelievable sometimes… Who knew you’d go so far to forge my signature. Aren’t I the criminal when it comes to the two of us? Don’t steal my thunder now.”

“What? Can’t big sis learn from their younger brother sometimes~?” They had laughed it off more than anything.

“Listen, we have clear roles here. I’m the insane war criminal, you’re the one just barely avoiding my jail time. Who’ll bail me out if you end up in a cell?”

“Oh, you’ll  figure it out. You’re a smart boy~”

“Haha…Not funny…”

“Just stating facts Eli.”

"Facts… Right…”

“Hey, I’m being serious here. You’ll manage just fine. At least try it.”

“Uh.. Fine fine. Since you won’t take no for an answer… But it’s just to shut you up, ok?”

Fact of the matter was that Ann just wanted the best for their ‘younger brother’. They wanted him to succeed no matter what and hope that the time spent at Yumenosaki is helpful for Eli. The boy always had some doubts here and there, he needed a little push. So this academy was most likely perfect to give him that push. Learn from professionals and expand, perhaps. Just gain the desire to make something of his dream as a performer, anything really. Some type of realization at the very least. They didn’t want him to sulk constantly and do nothing about it.

Well, that of course came with a downside. Because since Ann was kind of the one in charge here they were assigned to Eli in some indirect way. That meant they had to sort out any kind of trouble he would cook up at school. It was not rare that the boy skipped classes or got into fights. Not just with students, but also with teachers. And not just verbally either, fists are fair game too. He doesn’t hesitate. Violence is the answer to everything for him. Sometimes literally. Oh what they had heard: An outburst during Math class because the teacher kept pestering him. Or a chair breaking from one moment to the next because he was annoyed by one of the students, it just barely managed to not escalate. Who knows what might have happened if Ann didn’t arrive on time. Things could have taken a dark turn. So much for a first year student, to say the least. His reputation was already anything but pleasant.

Today was luckily not the worst type of encounter. In fact, compared to some others it was rather harmless, to say the least… But that is not saying much when it comes to the first year student.

Most he did was of course throw a table from one moment to the next, then run off, right out of the classroom. These cases have become more and more frequent recently, they themselves cannot exactly explain why. Maybe school is stressing him out? He may not have said a thing but it could be a possibility. He was someone who needed the answer literally shoved out of him sometimes, pushed beyond his limits.And if necessary they would do so… If they wouldn’t get distracted that is. The boy loved to be stubborn sometimes.

Either way, they had spent their time walking around school grounds as they had been told that he would be around there somewhere. As long as it was outside of the classroom. Ah,  a great mess. What were they? His guardian? Actually… That may as well be true.

Luckily they knew their way around the school at this point, either having to come over to pick up Eli or being forced to talk to one of the teachers. After all, they were ‘the adult’, they had to keep him in check, despite not being that much older. So the work to handle the first year student was solely up to them as not even the teachers knew how to keep him in check. Not like they were blaming the staff though, Eli can be a handful. Actually, now that they thought about it… Who does it remind them of? Someone, some—

“Huuuh~  You again… And I was just about to sleep…” A familiar soft voice somewhat complained, sounding as if it was at the brink of sleeping. Though it had been denied the slumber altogether at the end of the day.

“I  don’t exactly have x–ray vision, do I?” Another familiar voice asked, not as soft though somewhat. Actually, hearing them side by side made it difficult to make out who is who. Maybe that person was even talking to themselves. “Though it’d be useful… I’d know where to aim where it hurts.”

“Really~? Sounds like fun~”

“Fun? You ain’t scared or something?”

“No, not really. Honestly, if you were to listen to Secchan sometimes, things like these don’t faze you as much.”

“Sewho?”

“Don’t worry about it.” A light chuckle escaped shortly after this sentence. “Oh, I don’t think I've ever seen you around here before, have I? A freshman?” “So what if I am?” One could practically hear the sharp glare thrown in right then and there.

“Oh, you’re one of those. Alright alright, I won’t pry. Anyway… Can I go back to sleep?” The voice sounded unfazed by any of the annoyed tones and responded in a familiar calm manner. A moment of silence kicked in right then and there, a silence Ann could only guess the meaning of as they stepped closer to the source of the voices.

“You’re not going to ask what I’m doing here?” The other male voice suddenly asked, sounding rather suspecting, to say the least.

“Hmm… I don’t have the energy for that~” The other yawned from one moment to the next. “I’m just here to take a nap in the shades~”

“During class time?”

“Hey, you’re here too, aren’t you?”

“Hah, ok. Fine. You’ve got a point there I guess.”

They had stepped to the closest point by then, peeking over to see who was talking to begin with… Yet the moment they did their eyes went wide, just when spotting the two at the same place at the same time. It was as if things suddenly… Clicked. Actually, first things first, it was like they were staring at Ritsu… Just waaay taller. Truth to be told, Eli also had foreign blood, hence why he was probably way taller than most students at Yumenosaki, even the male ones. He sticks out like a sore thumb, no one would even have a chance of missing him. In fact, it would take some real skill to miss a guy that massive! However, if it were not for their massive height difference, one may as well mistake the two for twins. At most Eli’s hair was a little messier than Ritsu’s and their eye colors did not match either, with Eli’s being on the brown end and not on the red end, though they may as well be pretty close in terms of eye color. Honestly, when looking at them it is more of a miracle that those two were not related whatsoever. Because looking at them side by side… They may as well be brothers! However, the shock couldn’t last forever. Ann had to interrupt their conversation in one way or another and thus they decided to just approach the two who had been conversing beneath a pair of trees the entire time. The rustling alone made the two boys turn their heads into the direction, both looking a little surprised, to say the least.

“Sis?”

“Ann–Chan?”

They both spoke out loud at the same time before noticing that each of them had addressed the young person in a rather trustworthy manner, the two looking at one another for a moment and asking: “You know her?” in perfect sync. Seriously, are they secretly twins or something!?  Well, twins with a massive height difference but twins nonetheless… Ann couldn’t help but wonder…

“Is that what you two—” They were about to bring up but then shook their head from one moment to the next. “Nevermind. I came for Eli.” “Me? Sis, that’s the third time this week.” He suddenly complained, almost seeming to pout yet they only responded accordingly: “You think it’s fun to run here from work each time? You could maybe behave.”

“Hmm… How about no?” He shrugged, perhaps just resisting his urge to smirk right at his sister, making them sigh.

“Of course not.”

“Eli? Oh, Maa–Kun mentioned him, the problem student~” Ritsu threw in out of literal nowhere, somewhat light hearted even, as if it was no big deal to begin with. Wait, Isara knows about Eli too? Of course… Looks like Eli made a name for himself already.

“Oh? So you’re saying I’m famous?”

“Something like that~”

“What an honor~”

“Ok ok, please stop joking around…” Ann interrupted the two from one moment to the next. “Either way… Please Eli? There’s a conversation waiting.”

“Ugh, fine… But only because you gotta bail me outta jail again.” The tall male responded, his hands now behind his head, not seeming to care all too much.

“Bail out? Oh, so that’s why you need Ann–Chan. Clever~” Ritsu commented, nodding his head, seeming to be rather amused if anything.

“Oh, Sis is pretty good at that type of stuff. If I ever need someone to cover up for my crimes, I know she’s got my back.” Eli responded, almost proud of each word he was saying.

“I’m not—” Though they just gave up at this point in all honesty. “Can we… Hurry? Work…”

“Alright alright. Have it your way.”

“Oh, Ann–Chan, can you pass my class too?” Ritsu suddenly brought up before the two could leave. They tilted their head, wondering as to why but got their answer soon enough: “Nyeli sneaked into my bag again and the school doesn’t allow cats on campus. Can you take him with you? Thank you~”

They didn’t even respond, it was as if both of them were expecting Ann to do those things. They would in the end but still… Both of them are more alike than one might think. And it would explain… A lot, to say the least.

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#Nimue's Lake #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #ensemble stars #enstars #ritsu sakuma #sakuma ritsu #enstars ritsu #ensemble stars oc #enstars oc #ensemble stars fanfiction #ensemble stars fanfic #ensemble stars fic #enstars fanfiction #enstars fanfic #enstars fic #self ship fanfiction #self ship fanfic #self ship fic #self ship community #f/o community #s/i community #selfship fanfiction #selfship fic #selfship #safeship #Sleepy Vampire #Ritsann

[thomasshelbydrabbles]

The Spy (6/?)

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Adeline Taylor (OC)

Warnings: period typical sexism, series typical violence, period typical views of PTSD, period typical racism, blood and gore, angst, sexual situations, infertility, loss of child

Summary: Adeline and Tommy talk for the first time in two years.

**Note: This is a series, so you should read The School Teacher and The Messenger first if you want to understand everything.*

Word Count: 2975

Author’s Note: And here it is!! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list.

Birmingham, 1924

“You claimed she was Thomas Shelby’s woman!” 

Adeline rolled her eyes as the men around her continued to bicker. They’d been arguing over her status as a usable whore for Tommy since they’d left the prison. It wasn’t exactly the reunion she’d envisioned, but seeing him was worth the bruise she felt blooming across her face. The way he’d looked at her though, that hurt more than she expected. Part of her wondered if his reaction had been calculated, designed to cause the infighting occurring right this moment. She clung to that thought because the alternative might destroy her. 

“Oh do shut up,” Adeline snapped, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He was hardly going to fall to pieces at the sight of me with a bruise on my face.” 

“Rather bold for a woman who lost her fiancé today,” Father Hughes informed her, sneer on his face. 

“You assume I’ve lost a fiancé. No way of knowing for sure so long as you keep me locked away here, pulled out only when you need a visual presentation of your leverage. No way a man like Thomas Shelby would allow himself to be pressured in such a way.”

“You cannot be suggesting we simply allow you to do as you please.” 

Adeline smiled. “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting. Not that I have much faith - ” she paused, “Sorry, not much for religion myself. You’ll understand why I don’t think you’ll take the wiser course here and allow me to return to the family.” 

“We can’t do that,” Sidney informed her. “We’ll stick to the plan. As Father Hughes pointed out, we’ve a higher power to account to in this endeavor.”

Adeline snickered. “And that’s worked out so well for you thus far. Good to see you continue to bet on the wrong horse.”

“There will come a time when you are no longer of use to the men of Section D.” 

“A day we all look forward to, I’m sure,” Adeline interrupted. “And of course, you’ve got grand designs about how I’ll suffer before I die. Perhaps you imagine I’ll beg you to offer me last rights so you can save my soul from eternal damnation. Sadly for us all, you can’t be rid of me yet.” 

“You can’t be sure he’ll even take you back,” Sidney reasoned.

“Aye. I can’t be sure. But, you’re whole plan - the plan dreamed up by the illustrious members of Section D hinges on Thomas Shelby giving a damn about my life.”

“He’ll see you alive and well at the Shelby family fundraiser this weekend. You’ll attend with Sidney, as planned. A representative of Section D will make himself know to Mr. Shelby, and detail exactly what he is to do next. Of course, the Grand Duchess will also be present at the fundraiser. Her uncle insists on her presence.” 

She hated the slimy, smug grin on Father Hughes’ face. The jealousy she felt bubble up in her gut she hated even more. If he truly had given up on her, the Grand Duchess’ parted thighs just might be enticement enough for Tommy.

“She is to be the direct contact between Thomas Shelby and our Russian friends. You - ” Father Hughes pointed at Adeline, “Are to remain just out of reach. Seen often enough to keep him interested, but far enough from him that he cannot pull you once more to his side.” 

“A slow torture,” Adeline murmured. “I wouldn't have believed such a pious, virtuous man of the cloth capable of something so insidious. But to hear it from your own lips. I’m impressed.”  

“Let’s not lose focus,” Sidney said, once more trying to maintain the peace. 

Adeline wanted to laugh at the irony of that. A man more apt to start a war because he was bored trying to mediate conflict. 

“I think Mr. Shelby is still very much enamored with our girl.” 

Adeline slanted a look at him, bristling at the use of our. 

“The fundraiser is for the Shelby Foundation, which supports the local school. The very school where you used to teach, if I’m not mistaken. Such overtures don’t speak to a man ready to sever his relationship with his wayward fiancée.”

“Wayward?” Adeline asked.

Sidney shrugged a shoulder. “Your neither missing nor dead. Everyone who’s worked with you understands how difficult you can be. Wayward is a rather apt description, don’t you think?” 

“Indeed,” Father Hughes agreed.

“A more agreeable woman wouldn’t be able to accomplish the tasks you have set forth.”

“Agreed,” Sidney said with an amiable smile. 

He poured a measure of whiskey and handed it to Adeline. Skeptical of his sudden good humor, she took the glass. 

“We’ll go shopping for a pretty dress for you to wear. Can’t have Thomas Shelby forgetting himself, thinking he has any sort of advantage or space to maneuver. We must constantly show him what his own waywardness is endangering.” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For a grown ass woman, Adeline spent much of her time sneaking into and out of various places. She’d been forbidden from leaving the guest house, but she’d think less of Sidney if he thought for a single moment she’d abide such a ridiculous rule. Not when she was here, in Birmingham. As instructed, she’d gone and bought a dress. While the savvy operative in her wanted to find something homely to wear just to spite Sidney, the woman desperately in love with a man she wanted to have captivated by her won out and she purchased a dress specifically designed to make Thomas Shelby want nothing more than to tear it from her body.

Glancing around his room, she noted how little had changed. Her coat, wet along the bottom from the lingering puddles that seemed to always occupy Birmingham streets hung on the back of the door. Her shoes, soaked through, lay in a haphazard way near the door. Knees tucked up to her chin, Adeline sat waiting. On the bedside table, the last of her cigarette lay burning down to nothing in the tray, small wisp of smoke curling up towards the ceiling. 

She heard footfalls on the steps, heard them move closer to the door. When the door began to creak open, Adeline felt her heart stop. Setting this meeting up, moving all the pieces, making promises - how easy that had been compared to this moment. Too many possibilities swam through her head. 

The door opened. Tommy stood in the doorway, shadows from the twilight casting his features in stark relief. He stood there as a statue, only the smallest movements convinced her that he was even breathing. Their eyes locked. 

“What the fuck are you doin’ here?”

She wanted to smile at the familiarity of the whole scenario. This space - his old room on Watery Lane held so many precious memories for her. Their first kiss.  

“Last time you snuck into me bed you had a message for me.”

“Aye.” 

Tommy nodded. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket. “Go on. Give me the message then get the fuck out.” 

“I don’t have a message, Tommy. I snuck into your bed to see you.”

He took a long drag from his cigarette, eyes distant, unfocused. “I dreamed this,” he whispered. “After the Darby. Every night.” 

“Tommy - ”

“And each morning,” he continued as he stepped into the room. “I’d wake up alone. Your spot on the bed cold and empty.” 

The anguish in his eyes destroyed her, tore through her like someone was peeling the skin from her back strip by strip. She wanted to turn her face away, to hide from his gaze; it would be easy to play the coward.  

“What would you like me to say, Tommy?”

Instead of answering, he threw the door closed. The sound of it echoed through the quiet of the house. She flinched at the noise. Her movement drew his focus back to her. 

“I don’t know, Miss Taylor. After two years, what is there to say, eh?”

Another flinch. She clutched her left hand to her chest, the fingers from her right hand nervously twisting the engagement ring around her finger. 

Tommy let out a humorless chuckle. He pointed to her, that same bitter smile she’d seen in the prison once more on his face. 

“Were you ever mine?”

An aborted, wounded sound escaped her lips. Yet, Sidney’s voice echoed in her mind. You were mine first…Shaking those thoughts from her head she met Tommy’s gaze. 

“You fuckin’ bastard, how can you ask me that?”

Again, Sidney’s voice mocked her, You’ve worn his ring, played virgin for the two years you’ve been apart... 

“Answer the question.” 

Adeline grit her teeth. “I never stopped being yours.”

She watched his expression. Saw how he worked to shut her out, to hold his anger tightly around him as protection. He might be able to do it. She’d always known there was a possibility…a version of this reunion where he didn’t - wouldn’t forgive her. Worst of all, she couldn't find it in herself to blame him for it. Were their roles reversed, she’d not be forgiving either. Didn’t change the fact that he still held what remained of her heart in the palm of his hand, just as surely as Sidney held her life in the palm of his. Damn them both. 

He remained silent, just stood there and smoked his cigarette. Adeline stood from the bed, closed some of the distance between them.

“When you were laying in your bed, dreamin’ ‘bout me did you imagine it was my choice to be taken from your side, hm?” 

“One moment you were there. The next you allowed them to fuckin’ drag you away.” Tommy glanced away. He tossed his spent cigarette on the floor and ground it beneath his foot. Adeline wanted to scold him for it, but didn’t. He met her gaze once again. 

“Aye.” 

“Fuckin’ Alfie knocked Arthur unconscious, nearly shot me to keep us from runnin’ after you. We outnumbered them. Would have been simple enough for you to break the hold they had on you. Only one conclusion, Miss Taylor - you wanted to leave with them.” 

“Call me Miss Taylor in that tone one more time and I swear to Christ I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out.” 

“Why?”

Adeline forced herself to take a deep breath. She met Tommy’s steady gaze, felt the burn of the ice in his blue eyes. Had attempting to protect him from her past brought them here? Perhaps. He deserved to know everything. 

“Momento Mori.”

Reaching forward, Adeline pulled the pack of cigarettes from Tommy’s pocket. Allowing the smoke to fortify her, she began to pace in a small little line a foot away from where Tommy stood. 

“I thought he was dead. Alfie, too. I thought I was safe, but I should have known better. Memento Mori was our code during the war. Sidney - George, whatever he wants to bloody well call himself, used that phrase when the situation became too dangerous to stay. Those men who came in, the ones who grabbed me, whispered that phrase in my ear. No one needed to die. If I’d fought, if I even hesitated, everyone in that room would have been dead. Better you alive and hating me than dead and loving me.”

“Still makin’ my decisions for me.” 

Adeline shook her head. “You bloody stubborn bastard. Even with everything I’ve told you. Everything you’ve seen, you still don’t understand how dangerous this is. I’ll not apologize for saving you. I’ll never apologize for protecting you, for keeping you safe.”

“And there it is,” Tommy nodded to himself. “The woman I love, my fiancée, doesn't trust me to protect the family. To protect her.”

Adeline scoffed. “Trust you?” 

With a shake of her head, she turned away from him. She took a long drag from the cigarette. Whirling back to face him, she jabbed her finger against his chest. 

“The second you got sober enough to have a coherent thought you went to fucking Churchill and made yourself a Devil’s bargain.” 

Tommy’s eyes narrowed as he took a step back. 

“And how would you know that, eh?”

She’d never thought about how she’d answer that question. Part of her never thought she’d have the opportunity. She’d convinced herself that Sidney would kill her when he was done with her. As she’d told Campbell years ago, women like her were guaranteed one thing in life and that was to die bloody, wrung out - useless. That’d be her tombstone: Here Lies Arke: Useless.

He deserved to know. Even if he hated her for it. It’d been many years since she’d been this desperate to lie to someone. She knew the likelihood of him forgiving her was slim, had known that all along. Yet standing here in his room, facing the reality of it? Nothing felt worse. Squaring her shoulders, she looked up at him. 

“About six months after Sidney took me, I figured out a way to get word out that I was alive. I hadn’t managed to find a way to come home. I couldn’t. Not while Sidney breathed. That was my mistake the first time. Instead of verifying for myself, I believed rumors and reports about his death. Allowed my joy at his demise to cloud my judgment. Not again. Not ever again. I sent word through the IRA to Alfie, to Isaiah - ”

She paused at his startled hiss of breath. She knew that dark look in his eye. 

“You’ll leave that boy alone, Thomas Shelby. It’s me you're angry with, and rightly so. I couldn’t risk direct or indirect contact with you. Sidney had his people everywhere, and I knew if he caught even a hint that I had reached out to you…well, you’d all be dead. Anyone with the last name Shelby. Anyone associated with the Peaky Blinders. All dead. You’ll scoff. Tell me there’s no way that would happen because Thomas fucking Shelby rules the whole world, and no one would dare cross him. And that’s why I couldn't risk it. You’re not invincible. Men like Sidney are too well connected, too political. I knew Alfie would keep you in the dark. Took a bit of a wager on Isaiah, but he’s a good lad. Knows good sense.”

Adeline threw her spent cigarette on the floor, ignoring the way her hands shook. 

“Didn’t expect Michael and Isaiah to show up. They’re the ones who told me about what you’d done, about your foolishness. Good boys. Of course, Alfie’s the one who helped them track me down. Meddling Jewish fool. After that, I couldn’t allow them to risk in person contact. We relied on carefully coded notes with minimal details about anything personal or important. Then we were in France, and Russia because of course Alfie was fucking right, as usual and Sidney is Russian, so he’s involved in this whole mess of Reds and Whites, then I learn that you’ve gone to Churchill and gotten yourself involved in the Russian’s bloody mess. Now they’re using me as a pawn to make sure you stay in line and do exactly as you're told.”

Tommy nodded, the movements abrupt. He raked a hand through his hair before locking his eyes with hers. Adeline’s breath caught. They were so blue, and they still held her as captive as they always had. She’d missed him so much it hurt, and standing here this close…she missed him all the more. Oh how she’d feared this day. The day when it was all too much. When he found the transgression he couldn’t, wouldn’t forgive. Worst of all, she couldn’t even blame him.    

“Two years,” Tommy began, voice low, carefully controlled. “You’ve known everythin’ I’ve been doin’ for two years, and not a single word to me.” 

Adeline wanted to shake him. Everything she’d told him, and that’s what he focused on. As though she could forget the time. As though she hadn’t died each day since they’d been apart.  

“I spent two years worryin’ about you. Not knowin’ if you were alive, or - ”

Tommy clenched his hand into a fist, grit his teeth.

“Two fuckin’ years!”

She startled at the volume of his voice. Her own eyes narrowed. She took a step closer to him. 

“Aye,” Adeline screamed back. “745 fuckin’ days!” 

Staring at him, her chest heaved. Tommy stared back; his blue eyes piercing.

“745 days,” she whispered. 

She fought back the tears that threatened to stream down her face. Not that she minded the thought of crying in front of him, not anymore, but she feared if she gave in now, if she allowed even one tear to fall, she’d never stop.

“Might be 746 by now,” Adeline noted absently, eyes peering out the window into the darkness. 

Looking back at Tommy was a mistake. She’d not seen him look so defeated. Anger spent, at least for now, he appeared to her…un-moored. Like a boat adrift in the Cut, loose, but dangerously close to crashing against the bank. Floundering now that the reality of her standing in front of him settled around his shoulders. It was as though he finally believed she stood before him, not some specter he’d conjured in his dreams. She understood the feeling. Seeing him in that prison cell…feeling his eyes on her - nothing could have prepared her for that moment. 

Tommy closed the distance between them, his fingers gently traced the edges of the bruise on her face. Leaning into his touch, she bit back the sound of pain that wanted to escape her lips. She’d not allow him to end this connection over something so trivial as pain. The bruise, like all the ones before, would heal. Tommy touching her as though she mattered to him - that she needed like oxygen. 

“Tell me how to fix us,” Adeline begged, voice a whisper.

Part 7

Master List

Tag List: @stevie75  @muhahaha303  @highgardenrosexx @dolllol2405 

#tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby x oc

[twistedtummies2]

Glamour - Chapter 2 (Trade)

This is the second part of a four-part trade story with @hooter-n-company (a.k.a. Rchlis). She is making some very special art for me, and in return, she asked me to write a story to introduce a Twisted Wonderland OC she's sort of had stewing in the background for a while: his name is Taoka Latronis, and he is based on Tamatoa from "Moana."

I absolutely LOVE Tamatoa. He's a fun villain, and a surprising crush (albeit a somewhat mild one, for me, personally). Rchlis wanted to create a character for the TW universe based on the big glam crab, and I certainly wasn't going to say no. The advantage of this being a trade, instead of a commission, was I could go and make a much longer and more detailed story, in return for much more detailed and elaborate artwork, without either of us having to pay exorbitant amounts that frankly neither of us could afford. Win-win. XD This was a LOT of fun to make, and Taoka is one of my favorite OCs I've gotten to write for that I DIDN'T create myself, if not my favorite (at least as far as TW goes, I should clarify). Hopefully a lot of you like him, too. ;)

Like with other stories of this nature, the other parts will be uploaded one a day over the coming few days. So be on the lookout! Part one went up yesterday.

WARNING: THIS PARTICULAR SECTION DOES NOT INCLUDE ANY KINKS DIRECTLY. HOWEVER, THERE ARE IMPLICATIONS OF VORE AND OTHER KINKS SPRINKLED THROUGHOUT THE FIRST THREE PARTS. (I actually think this part might be the only chapter that DOESN'T feature kinks at all, possibly.) DON'T LIKE? TOO YOUNG? DON'T READ.

NOTE/DISCLAIMER: The lyrics to the songs used in this chapter are not mine. One is a song you should all know from a Disney movie that you should all also know. I used a cover by Jonathan Young as my guide. The other is a song from "Labyrinth," composed and performed by David Bowie - it seemed appropriate. All rights to the original tunes go to their owners.

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“AND NOW, AUDIENCE MEMBERS OF TRIPLE-S! IT’S TIME TO MEET YOUR JUDGES!” The announcer’s declaration was followed by much clapping. From your place just slightly offstage, you watched the opening ceremony get underway. One by one, the announcer presented the judges for the Sage’s Solo Showdown. The two student judges - Vil and Neige - were the first to step up. Given their celebrity statuses, each was greeted with screams and squeals, as well as great applause. Neige all but pranced up to his seat on the judge’s booth, waving excitedly to the audience. He flashed a peace sign and winked at someone in the crowd, before sitting down. Vil followed him. He strutted to his place and bowed regally, smiling a sort of indulgent, almost sultry smile at the crowd. You couldn’t help but chuckle as Vil sat down: when Neige had appeared, you’d seen fangirls bouncing with giddy excitement. When Vil appeared, however, you saw them swoon and faint dead away. That said everything about each of them, you felt, in a nutshell. Divus Crewel stepped up next, as the “teaching judges” now came into play. You were surprised by how much applause he got. He was no celebrity superstar in the way Vil and Neige LeBlanche were, you supposed his recognition as a professor at NRC, along with any clout his “extracurricular activities” had gotten him, would have still garnered him a decent fanbase. “I wonder who the fourth judge is,” you murmured. “Nya! We haven’t seen any of the teachers at Royal Sword,” whispered Grim with a nod. “I’m curious, too!” The pair of you would soon get your answer. “And now, ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer’s voice boomed. “Our final judge for this year’s competition, and our chief master of ceremonies! I’m sure a lot of you know him: one of the hottest musicians in Twisted Wonderland, a native of this very island, who’s just started a new career of teaching at Royal Sword Academy! Please put your hands together for the mighty…the magnificent…MAVERICK MOKULAU!” The crowd went just as wild as they had for Vil and Neige, if not wilder. From your vantage point, you could see the latter of the young superstars bounce happily as he applauded from his seat, a look of idolizing wonder in his eyes. (Vil and Crewel, for their part, clapped politely; the latter even somehow managed to falsify a smile.) Soon, you could see the mysterious Mr. Mokulau: your first immediate thought was that he looked like some sort of rock star. he was a very large man, similar in height and build to Coach Vargas, but with darker skin and long, curly, yet well-groomed hair. While Vil and Neige were dressed in their school uniforms, and Crewel in his usual attire (fur coat and all), Mokulau was wearing a short sleeved shirt with a green floral pattern, like the canopy of a jungle, and a stylish pair of leather pants. Around his neck was a leather cord, with a shark tooth pendant, and he tipped a pair of Aviator-style sunglasses up onto his forehead as he strode towards his station. He winked one of his shimmering, almost metallic hazel eyes, flashing a grin of pearly teeth to the audience and flexing one arm in a showy fashion; both of his brawny limbs were covered in a myriad of tattoos, and you could see the beginnings of a similar tattoo on the back of his neck, no doubt trailing down along his spine and shoulders, currently unseen under the cover of his clothes. Mokulau took the microphone from the announcer and addressed the crowd; not only was he built like Ashton Vargas, but his imposing, booming voice you felt sure would give the coach a run for his money. “Alright-Alright-Alright!” he called out, slipping the shades back over his eyes, and pumping his fist into the air. “Who out there is READY?!

The crowd cheered and Maverick laughed boisterously. “Aww, c’mon, you can all do better than that! LEMME HEAR YA!” The man held the mic towards the audience and they cheered even louder. “That’s more like it!” he boomed. “Now, much as I wanna get onto that stage and go wild for you all, that’s not why we’re all here today. I know, I know, I’m the best, it’s a tragedy you won’t hear me…but maybe if we’re lucky, some of these guys and gals we’ve got backstage can almost match! Almost, heh…” Grim’s ears twitched as he heard a sound from behind you both. He looked, then frowned and tapped your shoulder. You looked to see where his paw pointed, and scowled: you could see the glitter of a familiar pair of purple eyes, peeking out from a shadowy corner of the offstage area. However, Taoka’s eyes weren’t focused on you. They were focused on Mokulau. You tried to ignore the strange thief, and refocus attention on the Royal Sword instructor…yet you were keenly aware of his nearby presence the whole time. “Seriously, events like this are really something special,” Mokulau went on, pacing before the judges bar as he continued to address the audience. “Trust me, I’d know: when I was just a kid, livin’ on this very island, I fell in love with music. I could play, I could sing, I was pretty good at it! But, well…let’s just say finding somebody to SUPPORT that music wasn’t easy. I had to leave this place to find a real chance to express my passion, get a scholarship, and eventually become the person you see now…which is, to say, AN AWESOME DUDE.” The audience chortled. Neige giggled. Vil and Crewel looked thoroughly unamused and merely rolled their eyes in unison. “So, anyway, when I found out about a chance to teach at Royal Sword, and to help judge this competition as well, I was hyped! It was a chance to come back to my roots, and to reconnect with something I…well…something I think I lost a long time ago. But we’re not here to hear my drama: we’re here to hear some cool guys try to out-cool yours truly! They’ll probably fail, mind you, BUT the one who gets the closest is gonna go home with somethin’ real special!” Mokulau snapped his fingers. The announcer dashed offstage, then returned with a cart. The audience “oohed” and “ahhed” at what was upon the cart: it looked like a huge trophy cup, made of silver. The handles of the cup arched upwards into a sort of bridge over its mouth…and in the center of the bridge, you saw an ivory-hued, triangular item, with the shape of a fish hook etched into it. “This great silver trophy,” Mokulau declared, “Is topped with my very first guitar pick! Some of my earliest and best concerts were done using that thing…I like to think of it as my way of passing the torch, and a sign of not giving up on your dreams and passions, no matter what they are. Call me sentimental, ha! Trust me, the silver’s worth a lot of money…but that pick? It’s truly priceless. And whoever gets first place in this competition will go home with that shiny puppy in their hands. SO…” He waved one hand extravagantly, and the announcer wheeled the cart and the trophy away. “...I think it’s time I stop yammering your ears off! YOU READY FOR SOME MUSIC?!”  The crowd applauded and called out a resounding “YEAH!” in various forms. “Then let’s get this party started!” howled Mokulau, and gave the mic back to the announcer before rushing to the judge’s station. He sat down with a smirk, crossing his arms and slinging his legs up onto the table in front of him. Vil and Crewel - who sat on either side - cringed and flinched away as he did so. Neige just smiled blithely, clearly unaffected. As the announcer began the proceedings, you realized it was time for you and Grim to get to work.

“Come on,” you whispered to the little imp. “Let’s go.” “Right, Minion,” Grim whispered back…then blinked as he looked past you. “Nya…where’d that purple-haired weirdo go?” You turned and, sure enough, you couldn’t see a single sign of Taoka. “Forget about him,” you sighed, shaking your head and ushering Grim away. “We’ve got a job to do, big guy, let’s move it!” Grim nodded and bounded after you as you each scuttled away to take care of business. Neither of you noticed, as you hurried away, that Taoka hadn’t really left. Purple eyes watched the two of you go, then once again the shadowy sneakthief stepped out of hiding. From his place offstage, he narrowed his eyes, peering over the stage itself towards Mokulau’s cool expression. A strange expression - something that crossed a snarl, a sneer, and a decidedly unpleasant smile all at once - crossed his face. “Well, well, well…been a while since we last met, hasn’t it? If you can call it meeting…” The gloved hand clenched tighter, the fist shaking visibly before Taoka swirled his golden coat and prowled back towards his dressing room. “This time, you won’t be able to ignore me. And to make doubly sure…I’m going to see to it nobody shines like me today.” A slightly unhinged chuckle left the young man. “Then again…way I see it, nobody shines like me at all. But, hey, no harm in remindin’ ‘em of that.”

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“I don’t get it!” squeaked Hop, the blonde dwarf from Royal Sword, as he hurriedly looked around his room. “I had it when I came in!” “I told you to keep a better eye on it!” snapped his friend, Gran, grumpily. “Easy, fellas,” soothed Dominic. “It’s gotta be around seer humswear…I mean, here somewhere!” “I’ll make sure to keep an eye out for it,” you promised with a sigh. “Thanks, Stage Manager,” Hop said, with an apologetic smile, rubbing one arm. “I-I’m really sorry about the trouble.” “Trust me, it’s no trouble,” you said, and left the dressing room. Your smile vanished as soon as you did so. “Nya! I think it’s trouble!” Grim protested, huffishly crossing his arms. “How come nobody here is able to keep track of the important things?!” “I don’t think it’s entirely their fault,” you said, softly, scratching your chin as yourself and your companion patrolled the halls of the backstage reaches, where all the singers and performers were getting geared up or resting after their number. So far, however, those who had gone up hadn’t exactly faced smooth sailing. The first contestant had lost their microphone; as a result, their performance suffered, as they couldn’t be properly heard throughout the ampitheater. It was all downhill from there: another contestant lost an important piece of their outfit, and had to hastily throw on different clothes. Not only did this make them late to their cue, but it lessened the impact of their performance, as the costume had built-in lights that were supposed to go off at a certain point during the song. Now, Hop the Dwarf had lost perhaps the most important thing he or any other performer would need: the instrument he had brought to accompany him. These and more issues had plagued nearly every single person who’d gone up so far. ‘This can’t be a coincidence,” you muttered. “It feels like someone is sabotaging the other performers.” “But why?” “Why else? So they can boost their chances of winning,” you snorted. “Oh, yeah,” Grim murmured, nodding slowly. “I guess that would make sense…right! That’s obvious! I-I totally knew that already! Yep!” You could only let out a groaning sort of sigh. “You really ought to care more,” you grumbled. “This is going to make US look bad just as much as anyone onstage. We’re supposed to be on top of things like this.” “You mean…we might not get the money?” sniffled Grim. “You worry about the cash, I’m going to worry about my grade,” you groused in aggravation. “We’ve got to figure out who’s behind this as soon as we can.”

“Well, right now, I don’t think we’re gonna have a chance,” shrugged Grim. “We’re running around too much!” You grumbled again in reply; you knew that, for once, he was right. You’d have to take care of this issue when the show was over, and report things to security accordingly. But you REALLY didn’t like it. You could only imagine how Vil and Crewel were reacting to all this, and what they’d say if they saw it as poor management on your behalf…honestly, that hurt you more than any worries about your actual welfare. Your highly concerned musings were interrupted when one of the assistant stage managers - they had been assigned, not picked by you - came over to you. “Contestant 23 is about to take the stage,” they said. “Good,” you nodded back, and beckoned Grim to follow you. “Come on, it’s our job to bring Contestant 24 into place. They go on immediately after.” Grim nodded, and the two of you went to Number 24’s room. You knocked, and a polite voice from inside called out, “Come in!” You opened the door and smiled as you peered in on the performer inside. Said performer was a student of Royal Sword. Until this day they had been all but a stranger to you. They were slender and small of frame; their somewhat effete yet clearly strong and muscle-toned features vaguely reminded you of Epel or Lilia: petit and slim, yet tough and resilient all at once. He had skin the same bronze-like tone as Maverick Mokulau’s, and hair done up in dreadlocks. He wore a reddish-pink tank top, with striped tropical patterns on it, and beige trousers, with patchwork badges that resembled some sort of yellow flower or coral. His eyes were a rich chocolate brown, and filled with a warm, friendly light. “Number 24?” you checked, just to be safe. The young man nodded as he stood up, and adjusted his personal microphone. “Name’s Keala,” he greeted, extending a hand towards you. “Keala Cravalho.” “Nice to meet you,” you chuckled. “Nya…technically, you saw each other earlier,” huffed Grim. “Yeah, but we were both in a hurry then,” shrugged Keala, and smiled as he knelt down towards Grim. “Didn’t get a chance to say hi to you, either.” “I’m the Great Grim of Night Raven College!” the imp declared, puffing out his fluffy chest. “And don’t you forget it!” Keala chuckled and reached out to playfully ruffle Grim’s headfur. “I won’t,” he said with a teasing smile. Grim growled and swiped at Keala’s hand, batting it away and blushing beneath his gray fur. He grumbled as he straightened out the fluff of his furry noggin. Keala just chuckled louder and stood up again, raising an eyebrow in your direction. “I didn’t realize you two went to Night Raven. You’re not how I expected a lot of students there to be,” he remarked. “Eh. For me, it’s just a place to stay. And learn, I suppose,” you shrugged. This was, in fact, the truth: while you had your own school pride, you’d never felt the intense bitterness towards Royal Sword others at NRC did. Maybe it was because you weren’t originally from this world. “Come on,” you said, and ushered Keala out into the hall. “The act before you is about to go on. It’s time to get moving.”

“Oh-oh, wait a minute!” exclaimed Keala, and hurried back into their room. You frowned as you watched him check the locker of his dressing room. Keala’s smile fell, a look of confusion and then worry on his face. “Is something wrong?” you checked, already dreading the answer. “No,” murmured Keala…then shook his head and spoke a bit louder. “No, no, it’s fine. I’ve just, uh…just gotta get my backup plan real quick, hold up…” You and Grim shared a look, mouthing “backup plan?” to each other. Whatever it was, Keala fetched it quickly, tucking something into his pocket. He then nodded and smiled, indicating he was ready to go. Smiling back, you led him out of the backstage area and towards the main stage itself. “You nervous?” you asked as the three of you hastened to your place. “More than a little,” admitted Keala, brushing some of his dreadlocks from his face and giving an anxious sort of smile. “I’ll be okay, though.” “I’m sure you will be,” you smiled back. “You’ve got this.” “Not as much as OUR students have got it,” mumbled Grim. You made sure to jerk his tail for that one, giving him a strict look of reproach. Keala just sniggered at the exchange. Soon, the three of you were in view of the stage. Contestant 22 had just left, and Contestant 23 - in all his purple-and-gold glory - was now stalking onto the stage himself. “Welcome! And what’s your name?” you heard Neige’s voice call out. “Taoka Latronis,” came the somewhat snide reply. “And if I’ve prepared the way I think I have, I’m about to rock your world.” “Well, aren’t we confident?” Vil smirked, steepling his hands and leaning back slightly in his chair. “I try to be, Housewarden,” Taoka replied teasingly. “If you think being one of our students is going to help your chances, puppy, you are sorely mistaken,” Divus Crewel thought to point out. Maverick Mokulau just yawned. “Enough yammering!” he called out, and waved a meaty mitt through the air. “You’re here to perform, so perform. You can’t do anything more wrong than what some of the other clowns so far have.” Taoka’s smirk took on a slightly sinister, sneaky bend.

“Trust me, I know,” he practically purred, then seemed to shake off the aura of darkness. He straightened his back and adjusted the guitar strapped about his golden-clad shoulders. “This song is a short one, so you all know.” “Short doesn’t mean bad,” shrugged Neige, cheerfully. Taoka gave him a quick nod, then took a breath, closing his eyes as he tried to focus on his music. “Ugh…I don’t even wanna HEAR what this guy has to play,” grumbled Grim, and plugged up his fiery ears. “Hey, everyone here put a lot of work into what they’re doing,” soothed Keala. “Give him a chance.” Admittedly, you were on Grim’s side, given Taoka’s behavior…but once his fingers began to work on the guitar, you soon changed your mind. The tune he played was pounding and deep; like something primal, waiting to burst free from his very soul. Discordant, jarring jangles of the guitar strings were accompanied by melodic tones, the strong strumming rising in intensity and pitch with every couple of lines. Taoka kept his eyes closed, his expression filled with a sort of melancholy pain. This sensation matched perfectly with the lyrics he sang, which held a dark, conflicted message… “How you turn my world, you precious thing,” he crooned. “You starve and near-exhaust me. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you! I move the stars for no one. You’ve run so long, run so far!” Suddenly, Taoka’s eyes shot open. They fixed on Mokulau. There was a fiery intensity in them as he continued his song… “Your eyes can be so cruel! Just as I can be so cruel! Though I do believe in you! Yes I do!” Taoka’s eyes softened, and turned up towards the sky. His voice carried a shaky tone, as if trying not to cry. “Live without the sunlight. Love without a heartbeat…” His eyes closed again, just as they had begun to look misty. He turned his head downward again, as his fingers brushed the final, somber notes from the guitar. Huskily, he uttered the final lyrics… “I…I…can’t live…Within You.”

A few more plinking, plunking strums, and the lament came to a close. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in. “That wasn’t too bad,” murmured Keala behind you. “Is it over?” muttered Grim, who had his ears covered the whole time. You just rolled your eyes. Meanwhile, the four judges and the audience behind them applauded. The bitterness that had been written all over Taoka’s face was erased as he smiled hopefully at the competition masters. “So?” he asked, as the applause died down, sounding perhaps a little too playfully sure of himself. “Will it pass?” “It passes for me!” chirped Neige LeBlanche. “You really put a lot of effort into that one, I could tell! There was a lot of emotion, a lot of passion, in what you were doing. It wasn’t very long, but you really sold it to me.You oughta proud of yourself!” Taoka’s broad grin indicated that he was. “Yes,” yawned Vil. “Well, unfortunately we can’t all be so forgiving.” Taoka’s grin fell in an instant. “You may be one of my dorm-mates, but - as both your dorm leader and one of your judges here - I have no choice to be critical,” Vil went on. You couldn’t help but smile slightly to yourself with mild amusement: Vil was ALWAYS critical, regardless. “The emotion you put into the song was truly palpable,” he commended. “I can tell this is a tune you are passionate about, and you did your best accordingly. HOWEVER, I feel you should have chosen a longer piece, to make a bigger impact, just for a start.” “I agree,” nodded Divus Crewel. “Furthermore, while your voice is good, there is a sort of rasping quality to it I couldn’t help but notice. In some places, it is quite effective, but in others, it makes your voice sound weak; I would strongly recommend working on developing more clarity to your vocals.” In a matter of moments, Taoka’s expression had gone from almost smug to looking rather nervous. He turned to face Mokulau. Maverick was looking up at him thoughtfully over the rim of his sunglasses. Finally, the judge spoke. “Sorry, kid, but I can guarantee you aren’t making it to the finals,” he grunted.

You swore you could hear Taoka’s heart shatter. “I didn’t mind the voice, and the song choice seemed fine by me,” explained the tattooed man. “No, my problem stemmed from the strings. Were those discordant sounds I heard intentional?” “Some of them,” peeped Taoka, in a shockingly meek tone. “Well, there’s your biggest issue,” snorted Mokulau, tipping his glasses up again to cover his eyes. “You were able to fake it to the end, but if you can’t play the tune properly, don’t compete over it.” Someone in the audience muttered a quiet, “Ouch.” You couldn’t agree with them more. “Is there anything you want to say before we move on?” Neige asked, politely, a sympathetic smile on his kind face. Taoka gulped. He looked like he’d been kicked in the stomach. You saw him lift his gloved hand. He looked at it with a strange sort of contemplation…then curled the fingers into a fist and shook his head. Once more, you noted the odd way one of his fingers didn’t curl as much as the rest. Suddenly, you weren’t so sure that was just a genetic peculiarity. “Thank you very much,” Neige said. “I still think you did very well! Keep up the good work!” Taoka gave no indication he had even heard what LeBlanche said. He stalked off towards the backstage area. He cast one last hate-filled glance over his shoulder at Maverick - the rock-star-turned-teacher didn’t seem to notice - then pushed someone out of the way as he stormed off into the shadows, golden coat fluttering behind him.

“Nya…talk about a guy who can’t take criticism,” Grim hissed. “Forget about him,” you sighed, then smiled at Keala as the announcer called for the next contestant. “Now’s your time to shine.” “Thanks,” whispered Keala with a grateful smile. He tossed his dreadlocks out of his face with a flourish of one hand, and sauntered onstage. “Greetings,” Vil welcomed, with a respectful sort of bow of his head. “We’re glad to have you with us today.” “I’m glad to be here!” Keala said, and gave a salute to Maverick. “Hey there, Mr. Mokulau! Hi, Neige.” Both of the Royal Sword members waved in greeting. “You know them?” Crewel inquired. “Neige is in my class, and Mr. Mokulau’s one of my teachers,” Keala replied. “Don’t worry: I don’t expect either of them to go easy on me.” “Well, you can be sure of that with one of us,” chuckled Mokulau. “Hey! I can be strict!” pouted Neige, childishly. “It’s just harder for me!” The two teachers chuckled. Vil just groaned and pinched his brow; it was as if every word LeBlanche uttered was painful to his mind. Then he looked up again at the newest competitor. “What is your name?” “Keala Cravalho.” “I don’t see any instrument on you,” Schoenheit observed, raising one immaculate eyebrow. A brief look of anxiety crossed the young man’s face. “Heh heh…yeeeeah, about that…” “Did you forget it?” Crewel asked, blandly. “Oh, no!” insisted Keala. “I brought it with me, but it…doesn’t seem to be in my dressing room anymore.” You and Grim shared a worried look. Whoever was taking things from the contestants had struck again. “Just like with Hop,” you heard Neige murmur sadly. “What do you plan to do then?” wondered Professor Crewel. “Sing a-capella?” Keala’s anxiety gave way to a sly smile. “Actually,” he said, and pulled his cell phone from his pocket, waggling it in the air. “I came prepared. See, my grandmother always taught me to have a backup plan, in case things went wrong. So, in case something happened to my instrument, I actually recorded a full instrumental for the song, so I could still have my own accompaniment!” “I’m impressed,” admitted Vil. “Such foresight would have helped a couple of contestants today.” “Not every contestant knew my grandma,” winked Keala. “If somebody could help me set this up to the speakers…”

You took that liberty personally. You scampered onstage with Grim, and the pair of you quickly hooked up the phone to the speakers, and reworked the mic, so that Keala’s music and voice wouldn’t bury each other or bust the audio levels. It thankfully did not take very long, and soon yourself and your trident-tailed companion hurried off again. You gave a final thumbs-up to the judges and Keala alike, and high-fived (well…high-pawed) Grim as you vanished back into the wings. “Ready now?” Mokulau checked. “Yeah. I’m ready,” said Keala, and looked back at the judges. “This is a song my grandma taught me. It’s based on the legend of a princess who used to live right here on Sage’s Island. Maybe some of you will know the legend.” “Well, let’s hear it!” cheered Neige. Keala nodded and tapped the play button on the recording before hastily scurrying to center stage. He had just a few seconds to breathe and collect himself before the music started. A slow build gave him a chance to envelope himself in the moment; you saw his face relax…and his eyes slowly reopened. He stared off into the distance, as if looking out towards the horizon…and began to sing… “She’s been staring at the edge of the water, long as she can remember, never really knowing why. She’s wished she could be the perfect daughter, but she comes back to the water, no matter how hard she tries.” The music began to build, a pumping, determined, unstoppable quality to the music. Keala’s voice strengthened in turn, from the gentle notes of a storyteller to something more powerful as he began to stride across the stage, singing directly to the audience. “Every turn she takes! Every trail she tracks! Every path she makes! Every road leads back to the place she knows where she cannot go: where she longs to be…” Keala tilted his head back as if soaking in the sunlight from above…listening to the distant waves upon the beach… “And she says…‘see the line where the sky meets the sea? It calls me! And no one knows how far it goes! With the wind in my sail on the sea, behind me, one day I’ll know! But if I go, there’s just no telling How Far I’ll Go.’” You glanced towards Grim to see his reaction. The imp seemed mesmerized, mouth slightly agape, eyes sparkling like a hypnotized kitten. You giggled, and then looked towards the judges. Mokulau had lowered his sunglasses; he was watching with very intense interest. Neige was beaming from ear to ear. Even Vil and Professor Crewel had raised their brows in apparent surprise, as the golden voice continued its song… “She knows everybody on the island seems so happy on the island! Everything is by design. Oh, she knows everybody on the island has a role on the island! She says, ‘Maybe I can roll with mine!’ She could lead with pride! She could make them strong! She’ll be satisfied if she plays along! But a voice inside sings a different song: ‘What is wrong with me?!’” As the question was asked in the lyrics, you caught sight of something else. On the opposite side of the stage, Taoka had suddenly reappeared. The disgraced youth’s eyes were exceedingly wide, and his jaw seemed to have fallen onto his chest. His skin had even turned a shade or two paler. He didn’t just seem surprised. He seemed downright SHOCKED. You couldn’t help but feel a mild twinge of satisfaction at that, even as the next chorus began to roll off Keala’s tongue… “‘See the light where it shines on the sea? It’s blinding! But no one knows how deep it goes! And it seems like it’s calling out to me: so come find me! And let me know what’s beyond that line. Will I cross that line?’” The key changed, and the music kicked up a notch. Keala’s voice soared straight to the heavens, eliciting cheers from the audience. No longer did he sing in the third person, the words coming directly from his heart as he called out the final chorus… “There’s a line where the sky meets the sea! It calls me! And no one knows how far it goes! If the wind in my sail on the sea stays behind me, one day I’ll know…HOW FAR I’LL GO!”

The final words ended in a long, powerful, strong note, and Keala’s dreadlocks whipped forward as he finished with a sharp bow, the music crescendoing and coming to a halt at the same time. The audience applauded louder than they had that whole time. All four judges clapped, and you could hear Neige laughing and cheering, “That was so great!” You looked towards Grim with a smirk. He still looked hypnotized. You snapped your fingers in front of his face. He mewled and shook his head, blinking at you blearily. “Sounded pretty good, huh?” you teased. Grim frowned and huffed, looking quite embarrassed.

“I guess so,” he muttered. “For somebody from Royal Sword.” You just scritched him behind the ears in response. By the time he started purring, the crowd had calmed down. “I don’t even have words for that!” Neige declared. “That’s gotta be one of the best performances I’ve seen and heard in a while!” “I find it hard to disagree,” Vil said, although it sounded like he VERY much wanted to, if only BECAUSE it was Neige. “While I personally feel your sentimentality was a bit overwrought, your voice is pure and your recording did nothing to negatively influence your performance.” “I second all that. And quite clearly the audience loves you,” added Professor Crewel. “Bravo, you daaahling puppy. Bravo, indeed!” Keala gave all three a grateful, speechless nod, then looked towards Mokulau. His eyes were filled with a sort of cautious optimism. Mokulau grinned back and nodded before giving a thumbs-up. “You made me proud, kid,” was all he said. “And I bet your grandma feels the same way.” Several in the audience clapped again. You could actually see Keala’s large brown eyes go slightly misty. “Thank you,” he almost whispered. “You’re welcome!” Maverick sang back. Keala bowed to the judges, and scurried back towards you. You laughed as he whispered a hasty thanks to you, as well, and waved farewell to him. You then glanced back towards the stage to see the next contestant. As you did so, however, your smile faded. Taoka was still standing on the opposite end There were no mortal words to describe the utter and complete look of hatred on his face as he looked first in the direction Keala had gone, then at Mokulau. Then, with a snarl and a sneer, he disappeared once again.

“Come on, Minion!” Grim yowled, tugging at your leg. “We still have work to do!” “Coming,” you whispered, and hesitantly followed Grim, glancing back repeatedly to where you had seen Taoka. You had a very bad feeling inside your chest…and if your time in this world had taught you anything, it was to trust those instincts. You wished it had also taught you to learn what those instincts specifically meant.

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Afternoon was beginning to change into evening when the competition came to a close. You had been told who the winner was, and now waited with them backstage, ready to usher them on at the cue. The Announcer stepped to the center of the stage, and declared that the time had come to present the silver trophy - topped with Maverick Mokulau’s treasured pick - to the first place contender. Naturally, Maverick himself stepped up onstage to present the award. The announcer hurried off to wheel the cart onstage once more. The other three judges all stood a pace or two behind Maverick, hands behind their backs, as if at attention, patiently waiting for him to make the presentation. “I think my fellow judges and I can agree that picking a winner for this contest was pretty tough. There were a lot of hiccups today in some of the performances, but these kids…they knew their stuff, and they clearly all worked hard,” he chuckled. “There’s only room for one proper winner, though…and that winner is…KEALA CRAVALHO!” You grinned and gave Keala a pat on the back. “Go!” you whispered, and the Royal Sword student’s dreadlocks bounced as he jogged onstage. He shook hands with Professor Crewel, Neige LeBlanche, and Vil Schoenheit (who visibly wiped his hands on his trouser legs afterwards). Then he approached Maverick Mokulau. The rock star tipped his sunglasses back onto his forehead, his hazel eyes filled with pride as he lifted the trophy from the cart. “Congratulations, kid,” he smiled. “You’ve really earned this today.” Keala beamed, and reached to accept the trophy… …And that, it seemed, was the moment fate chose to make everything go wrong. ZAM! Suddenly, there was a blinding flash of golden light. It flooded the entire stage, and even seared into the retinas of some in the audience. Gasps and yelps of surprise and alarm sounded from all corners. “What IS this?!” you heard Professor Crewel screech, as he shielded his eyes with one fur-shrouded arm, recoiling from the flash. “Trouble,” you heard Grim hiss at your side. You couldn’t agree more: the light soon vanished… …And the whole crowd in attendance gasped in horror. Maverick Mokulau gulped, absolutely stunned…as he looked at his now empty hands. The trophy had vanished too!

To Be Continued in Part 3...

#kink fic #fanfic #my writing #trade #hooter-and-company #disney #twisted wonderland #glamour #chapter 2 #oc #not my oc #taoka #taoka latronis #maverick #mokulau #maverick mokulau #keala #keala cravalho #moana #maui #tamatoa #you all know the kinks