#adding letters in excel

[odileeclipse]

In the Presence of Truth {"Sage of Truth" (SMC) x Reader} PT 21

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When morning came…The door to the lecture hall swung shut behind you with a dull thud, the echo trailing like the remnants of Professor Almond Custard’s latest rambling theory, something about spontaneous infusion patterns that had your mind swimming more than it should have. 

You rubbed at your eyes, blinking away the residual glaze of boredom. Your mind dozed off before you knew it whatever was said was lost on you.

“Another riveting lecture,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie drawled, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he caught up with you in the hall.

 “I think my soul left my body around minute twenty.” 

“You lasted that long?” Chai Latte Cookie teased, linking her arm through yours as the group moved toward the central corridor. “I lost interest when he pulled out the second chalkboard.”

“I rather liked the second chalkboard,” Earl Grey Cookie said smoothly, appearing at your side with his usual effortless poise. Hazelnut Biscotti rolling his eyes trailing behind Earl Grey. “Though I suppose it’s only natural that one must enjoy chaos to appreciate it.”

 “Speaking of chaos,” you muttered, squinting up at him, “you said you’d show us what’s required for the Spire, right?”

 Earl Grey Cookie gave a short nod. “Ah. Yes. I was wondering when you’d ask.” He gestured for you all to follow him and led you through the glass-paneled corridor that cut through the Scholar’s Wing like a vein of light. The noonday sun spilled through in dappled patterns, illuminating golden dust motes as they danced lazily in the air. He stopped just outside the smaller lecture annex and pulled a folded parchment from the inner pocket of his coat. The seal on it shimmered faintly with magic, stamped with the same sigil that had been on the article you'd read about the Spire. “This,” Earl Grey began, unfolding the paper with careful precision, “is what’s required to be considered for student placement at the Spire of Knowledge.” He held it out so everyone could see.

You and the others leaned in, eyes scanning the list. 

Preliminary Application Requirements for the Spire of Knowledge (Student Research Cohort): -Demonstrated academic excellence in magical theory and application (minimum GPA threshold: 3.5) - One letter of recommendation from a faculty member (Spire-affiliated or Senior Scholar preferred) -A minimum of one completed research project within your department -Submission of an intent proposal: a 750-word document explaining your desired research path and its relevance to the future of magical study -Optional: portfolio of magical constructs, spellwork matrices, or theoretical contributions

Your mouth felt a little dry as you reached the bottom. “That’s… a lot.”

 Earl Grey tilted his head. “They want promising scholars. Not perfect ones. But those who can prove they’re capable of more than passive learning.”

 “You said this was optional?” Hazelnut Biscotti asked, pointing to the final note about portfolios. 

Earl Grey nodded. “Optional, but highly encouraged. It’s a way to stand out. The review board will be selective.”

 Chai Latte Cookie leaned closer to you, whispering, “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us.” You nodded slowly, still taking it all in. The list in your hands was more than a formality; it was a door. One that could lead you there. To the Spire. To him.

 “Applications open next month,” Earl Grey added, tucking the parchment back into his coat. “That gives you a few weeks to pull things together. I’d suggest speaking with your current professors about research topics, if you haven’t already.” 

Hazelnut let out a low whistle. “Well, this just got a whole lot more real.” You stood quietly for a moment, the magnitude of it settling in your bones. Research. Letters. The proposal. You could do this. You had to do this.

For yourself. And for the chance to be where he was, too. “Think we’ll make it?” you asked, mostly to yourself.

 Earl Grey regarded you with something almost fond in his expression. “I think you’re more than capable,” he said simply. 

Chai Latte bumped your shoulder with hers. “We’re doing it together, remember?” You looked between them Hazelnut Biscotti already plotting aloud how to spin his latest project, Earl Grey calmly listing professors who might agree to sponsor a recommendation, Chai Latte’s quiet determination and felt the edges of your fear soften. Together. That part was never in doubt. You exhaled, a slow breath, one hand curling around the strap of your bag.

“Then let’s get to work.” You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment before glancing up at him. “Earl?” Your voice was smaller than you meant for it to be, but the moment felt fragile somehow, and you didn’t want to break it. “Would you… help me organize everything?” 

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie leaned back in his chair, letting out a soft laugh. “What, you don’t trust us to help?”

 You shot him a look. “I trust you to set my desk on fire by accident.”

 “Rude,” he grinned, clearly unbothered. 

Chai Latte Cookie hummed. “Fair, though.” 

You turned back to Earl Grey, offering a sheepish half-smile. “No offense to either of them, but… you just have a way of making things make sense. I don’t want to mess this up.” Earl Grey Cookie tilted his head, gaze unreadable for a moment before softening, just slightly. “We’ll all help,” he said. “That was always the plan.” His eyes met yours, steady and sincere. “But I’ll make sure your materials are in order. I know how… overwhelmed you can get.”

You winced, just a little. “Is it that obvious?” 

“To most? No.” His voice was low, reassuring. “To me? You forget how long I’ve been watching you wrestle with your notes during every group study session.” A flush crept into your cheeks, but it faded quickly beneath the warmth blooming in your chest. There was no judgment in his tone just gentle honesty, the kind that made you feel more seen than exposed. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice barely above a whisper. Chai Latte Cookie leaned her head against your shoulder. “We’ve got you.” 

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie offered a lazy thumbs-up. “Team effort, as always.” You glanced at the stack of papers again daunting, yes, but suddenly, not quite so impossible. Not with them beside you. Not with him. You smiled down at the neatly arranged documents, a weight lifting off your chest now that it wasn’t just you staring down a mountain of requirements alone. The way Earl Grey had broken everything into clean, digestible pieces, color-coded tabs and annotated margins made it all feel far less impossible than it had even ten minutes ago.

 “I think I’ll look over it tomorrow,” you said, fingers brushing the edge of the folder. “Maybe… after I’ve slept and recovered from Professor Almond Custard’s war on attention spans.” 

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snorted. “Sleep first, suffer later. Classic.”

 Chai Latte Cookie giggled. “I’ll bring snacks for morale support. You know, the important kind of support.”

 You beamed at her, heart light. “You always do.”

 Earl Grey Cookie gave a quiet hum of approval as he slid the folder back into its case. “Sleep is an acceptable excuse for now,” he teased, a rare note of mischief in his otherwise polished tone.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you said, stretching your arms out with a small sigh. “Tomorrow, then. We’ll tackle it together.” There was a warmth at the table that lingered, a quiet promise spoken not in declarations, but in gestures. In how Earl Grey kept the documents close at hand, in how Chai was already thinking of snacks, in the way Hazelnut’s relaxed posture said you’ve got this without a single word. And deep down, you knew you’d be okay. Because you wouldn’t be doing this alone. Chai Latte Cookie reached across the table, her fingers lightly brushing yours as she closed the folder you’d been staring at for the past few minutes.

“You should nap,” she said gently, her tone so sweet and final it left no room for protest. “We’ll wake you when it’s time for tutoring. Promise.” 

You blinked at her, blinking slowly, the heaviness in your limbs catching up to you all at once. “But what if-” 

“Nope,” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie interrupted with a lopsided grin. “No arguing. You look like you’ve been dragged through five lectures and four existential crises.”

 “That’s… alarmingly accurate,” you muttered, already sinking back into your chair. Chai Latte Cookie giggled, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face like she had every right to like she always did. “You’ve done enough for today. Let your brain take a break.” Earl Grey Cookie gave an approving nod, already tidying the papers as if sealing the deal. “We’ll keep everything safe. You’ll be far more efficient after rest.”

You gave a weak laugh, warmth blooming somewhere in your chest at the quiet care in all their voices. “Alright, alright. Just for a bit.”

 Chai Latte Cookie stood and held out her hand, helping you up. “Come on. You can use my blanket. It smells like cinnamon and reassurance.” You let her guide you away. Chai Latte Cookie’s dorm room smelled exactly like her warm, floral, and ever-so-slightly spiced, like steamed milk kissed with cardamom and honey. The door clicked shut behind you, muffling the sounds of the hallway, and you stood still for a moment, letting the atmosphere settle around you. It was soft.

Every corner of her room breathed softness, like it had been designed not just for comfort but for care. The walls were a muted rose color, washed gently in natural light filtering through gossamer curtains embroidered with little constellations of gold thread. Strands of fairy lights looped from one end of the room to the other, casting a gentle, magical glow over the shelves lined with worn novels, dried flower bundles, and carefully curated trinkets from festivals and markets long past. There were pictures, too tucked in between vases and books of the four of you, of her family, of blurry sunrises captured in shaky hands and bright, unfiltered smiles.

Her bed was massive, layered in plush quilts and far too many pillows, silk, velvet, hand-stitched, patterned with swirling florals and soft geometric shapes. It looked like a cloud pulled down from the heavens and coaxed into a shape meant for daydreamers. On the desk, there were journals open and overflowing with curling cursive and half-doodles, stars and teacups and notes-to-self and an old teapot kept warm on a charm-cast tray. There was a small music box by her windowsill, its paint chipped just slightly, as if it had been loved too much to stay pristine. She placed a hand on your back, guiding you gently toward the bed.

“You’re using the quilt with the little stars,” she declared, already fluffing the pillows behind you. “It’s my favorite, and it’s good for dreaming.”

 Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie dropped onto a chair in the corner, stretching his arms overhead with a yawn. “Place still smells like poetry,” he muttered.

 Earl Grey Cookie only nodded once, fingers ghosting along the edge of her bookshelf as he glanced over the titles. “A surprising number of historical romances,” he mused. 

“I contain multitudes,” Chai Latte replied sweetly, pulling the quilt over your legs once you settled down. 

“And a hopeless romantic streak.” You murmured something incoherent into the pillow, and she brushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear like she always had. Her touch was as familiar as the rest of her gentle, grounded, and unflinchingly kind. “We’ll be right here,” she whispered, voice quiet enough to rest on your skin like sunlight. “Just rest, okay? When it’s time, we’ll wake you.”

The last thing you saw before your eyes drifted shut was the soft, golden lantern light flickering above, casting faint stars across the ceiling. And the sound you fell asleep to wasn’t a lullaby, but the low hum of your friends talking softly just beyond you, safe and close. You didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment, the quilt was warm against your cheek, the scent of Chai Latte Cookie’s lavender sachets settling deep into your lungs, and the next gentle fingers were brushing over your shoulder.

“Hey,” Chai Latte Cookie murmured, her voice like steam rising from a fresh cup. “Time to wake up, sleepyhead.” 

You groaned softly, blinking into the plush folds of her favorite star-quilt, bleary-eyed and dazed. The golden hue of the room hadn’t changed much, though the fairy lights now glowed a little brighter with the late afternoon sun dipping behind the window curtains. A hand gently patted your back. 

“You should get to your study date,” Chai Latte said lightly, a playful lilt in her voice. Your eyes opened a little wider. “Tutoring,” she corrected, in the exact same breath, as if she hadn’t just tripped over her words.

 “Obviously.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snorted from where he lounged on the floor, flipping through one of Chai’s romance novels. “That slip was louder than a thunderclap.” 

Earl Grey Cookie, ever composed and mildly insufferable, offered a knowing glance over the rim of his teacup. “I believe the term is freudian. Though I’m not entirely convinced you mind the implication.”

Your face flushed as you pushed yourself upright, the quilt pooling around your waist. “It’s tutoring,” you mumbled, throat dry from sleep. “Academically-motivated tutoring.” 

Chai Latte Cookie only grinned, her hands on her hips, betraying no shame. “Mm-hmm. That’s what we’re calling it.” You shoved your arms through your sleeves, cheeks still hot as you gathered your bag. “You guys are the worst.” 

Earl Grey grinned, rising to his feet, “you still rely on us though.” 

Chai handed you a small to-go cup of tea warm and sweet, because of course she’d made something while you slept. “Go,” she whispered, her teasing replaced with something gentler. “You’re gonna be late.”

You clutched the tea to your chest and nodded once. There was no turning back now. Whatever this was, whatever it would become you were already stepping toward it. You moved through the Scholar’s Wing on autopilot, feet barely grazing the floor as you weaved through the golden afternoon light slanting in through the high-arched windows. The halls were quieter now most students still lingering in their final classes or tucked into the library, looking over pages with ink-smudged fingers. But you?

You had somewhere else to be. The cup of tea Chai Latte Cookie had pressed into your hands remained warm, cradled like a charm of courage between your palms. You hadn’t taken a sip yet. Just holding it felt like enough a silent reminder of your friends’ unwavering support. You reached the familiar door tucked in the Scholar’s Wing, simple and heavy, carved with the faint outline of ancient runes barely visible unless you knew how to look. Your hand hesitated for only a breath, hovering before the wood. Then, with a quiet rap of your knuckles, you knocked. Just three times. A formality, really. You both knew you didn’t need to anymore. But still you knocked.

From within, you heard the soft shuffle of parchment, the closing of a book, and then his voice: calm, measured, and unmistakably him. “Come in.” 

You exhaled slowly, adjusting your grip on the tea, and pushed the door open. “Hey,” you said, the word coming out softer than you intended, like your voice hadn’t quite found its footing. It was the same type of greeting you always gave him, informal, unceremonious, something that once masked how nervous you used to be just being in the same room as him. You had said it a hundred times, maybe more. But today… it didn’t sound the same. Not to your ears. Shadow Milk Cookie looked up at you from behind his desk, and though his expression remained composed, there was something quieter in the air between you. Something not yet named, but no longer hidden.

He didn’t answer right away. Just held your gaze for a moment too long…long enough that your heart skipped. Then, with a faint curve to his lips, he replied in kind. “Hello.” You sat down without being asked, as you always did. The chair was familiar beneath you, the desk scattered with papers and ink. Everything about the moment should have felt like routine. The familiar rhythm of your tutoring sessions, the way the silence filled the room like velvet, the warm scent of parchment and candle wax clinging to the air. But it wasn’t the same. Not really. Because even though you were still you and he was still him, something had changed. The truth had shifted the light in the room gentle, but unmistakable. And maybe no one else would notice. But you did. You sat straighter than usual. Your fingers didn’t fidget with your notes. And when you looked at him you saw something new in the way his gaze lingered, in the way he waited for you to speak like he already knew you would, but still hoped to be surprised. “Long day?” he asked, voice calm as always, but softer somehow.

 You smiled, small and private, the kind of smile that only belonged here. “Not yet,” you murmured. “But it’s about to be.” You reached into your bag and pulled out your notes slightly crumpled from being stuffed between too many books, corners folded and scribbled with your usual half-formed thoughts and highlighted passages you weren’t entirely sure you understood. You flattened the pages out on his desk between the two of you, fingers hovering over the diagrams you'd drawn. “So,” you said, nudging the notebook forward, “I think I’m missing something here between the leyline convergence and the anchor sigils.” You tapped your pen against the margin, frowning. “This part just… doesn’t make sense to me.”

Shadow Milk Cookie leaned forward, his expression sharpening not with judgment, but with focus. His eyes swept across the notes, tracing the lines you’d drawn, the hastily-sketched symbols. And just like that, something shifted. Gone was the quiet, almost tender stillness from moments ago. This was the Sage of Truth. His gaze took on that unmistakable glint, bright as a star yet weighted like ancient stone. He didn’t rush. He simply began his voice even, calm, yet commanding in that way that always made you sit a little straighter, hold your breath a little longer.

 “You’re approaching it as if the sigils are meant to reinforce the leyline. But in this configuration,” he said, lightly turning the notebook toward you, “they’re actually meant to contain its flow, not strengthen it.” 

He reached for a piece of parchment, already illustrating the concept anew, translating the arcane theory into something tangible with practiced ease. His voice wove through the explanation, never faltering, never hesitating. Words that might’ve felt impenetrable in a lecture hall unfolded here with clarity, like pages turned by a knowing hand. “And this,” he added, pointing toward a corner of your notes, “is not a convergence, but a divergence caused by residual energy. You mistook it for equilibrium but in truth, it’s instability.” 

You blinked. “But how is that even sustainable?” He glanced at you, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Because it isn’t. That’s the lesson.” Oh. You sat back slightly, processing the weight of his words not just the answer, but the way he always knew how to give it. As if he had peeled back the layers of your confusion before you’d even fully formed the question. It was humbling. A reminder of why you’d come to rely on these sessions more than you ever thought you would. And yet… this time, the air between you carried something more. You weren’t just looking at a scholar, or a guide, or even the Fount of Knowledge. You were looking at him. The one who had seen your worst confusion and never turned you away. The one who’d waited quietly, patiently for you to understand more than just theory. You exhaled slowly, gaze flickering from his notes back to his face. “…You always make it sound so simple.”

Shadow Milk Cookie looked up at you fully then, the golden light catching in his eyes like some distant, steady flame. “Truth,” he said gently, “is rarely simple. But clarity that, I can offer.” And you believed him. You always had. You leaned forward slightly, propping your chin on your hand, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at your lips. Your notebook still lay between the two of you, now marked with new annotations and precise diagrams that only he could make look so elegant. 

“You know,” you said, half-teasing, “I was thinking…” 

Shadow Milk Cookie glanced up from the parchment he’d just finished sketching on, one brow arching in mild curiosity. “Were you?” 

You gave a soft, amused exhale. “What’s it like? Being able to reshape the academic world with, like… a flick of your wrist?” You wiggled your fingers dramatically for effect. “One stroke of a quill and suddenly entire departments are reorganizing themselves to follow your latest lecture.” 

There was a beat of silence. Then he laughed. A real one, low and soft, like the echo of a library chuckle that had never quite forgotten how to be human. “If only it were as effortless as you make it sound,” he replied, eyes gleaming with something like fondness. “Influence is not granted by the flick of a wrist. It is earned over years, sometimes centuries by the flicker of ideas. The wrist simply carries them forward.”

You wrinkled your nose. “You could’ve just said, ‘It’s a lot of work.’”

 “I could have,” he agreed, amused. “But then, you wouldn’t have had your little moment of reverence.”

 You scoffed. “Who said I was reverent?” 

He leaned forward ever so slightly, voice dipping lower, quieter. “You speak as if I move stars with my hands,” he murmured. “Yet it is you who offers constellations in your margins, and truths in half-formed questions.”

 Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. Your face flushed with heat as you quickly averted your gaze, muttering, “That’s… unfair.”

 Shadow Milk Cookie only tilted his head, the faintest smile still playing at his lips. “You’re the one who asked.” 

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “I’m never asking anything again.”

 “You will,” he said, with maddening certainty. You would. You were supposed to be reviewing ley line variance theories, something about elemental drift and spatial fractures but somewhere between diagrams and ink stains, your mind veered off-course. It always did with him. You tapped your pen against the page, then looked up at him slowly, voice casual despite the steady thrum beneath your skin. “If you weren’t doing this teaching, theorizing, being the Fount of Knowledge or whatever what do you think you’d be doing instead?”

Shadow Milk Cookie paused, the tip of his quill held just above the margin of your notes. “An intriguing question,” he said, not looking up yet. “Though I suspect anything I answer will sound terribly pretentious.”

 You tilted your head, smirking. “Try me.” 

He finally set the quill down, folding his hands atop the desk, expression thoughtful. “I suppose I’d be… a lighthouse keeper.” 

You blinked. “What?”

 “A lighthouse keeper,” he repeated, as if the idea wasn’t completely ridiculous. “Somewhere far from here. Remote. A cliffside, perhaps. I would tend to the light. Keep records. Listen to the sea.” 

You stared at him. “That’s so dramatic.” 

“I am dramatic,” he said mildly. “And there’s poetry in solitude.” 

You leaned forward, grinning now. “So you’d rather be alone on a craggy coast with no one but a thousand squawking seabirds for company?”

 “I never said I’d be alone,” he said, and the corner of his mouth twitched. “I’d simply prefer… quieter company. Perhaps someone who asks nonsensical questions to fill the silence.” Your breath hitched. It was such a small thing his tone was still and even. His gaze was still soft but it made your heart lurch anyway. 

You looked back down at your notes, suddenly embarrassed by how warm your face felt. “…You’re impossible,” you mumbled.

 “I prefer inevitable,” he replied smoothly. You bit the inside of your cheek, holding back a laugh. And for a long, quiet moment, the question of ley lines was forgotten, suspended in the hush that had settled between you the kind that needed no explanation. The study session passed more smoothly than you had anticipated. The gaps in your understanding didn’t feel like deep chasms waiting to swallow you whole, but rather, shallow dips you could step across with care. You flipped through your notes with a practiced hand, the ink clean and your diagrams if a little messy and accurate.

Shadow Milk Cookie sat across from you in that same elegant stillness he always did, his hands folded atop a stack of tomes, golden eyes sweeping across the parchment you laid out before him. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t steer, he simply watched, letting you walk yourself through the concepts. You knew he’d only speak if you faltered, if your logic veered too far off course, but today… you didn’t falter much at all.

 “…So, if the anchor pulse destabilizes, it starts to slip through the ley line current, right?” you asked, tapping your pen against the diagram you'd drawn. “But if the convergence point is reinforced beforehand, the distortion minimizes less of a ripple?”

 His gaze didn’t leave the page. “Precisely.” 

You looked up at him, blinking. “Wait, really?” A slow nod. “You’ve grasped the core concept. That’s more than most.” There was no teasing in his tone, no quiet amusement at your surprise just a calm certainty, the kind of praise that didn’t flare and vanish but settled deep into your chest like a quiet ember. You looked back down at your notes, a small smile tugging at your lips. It felt good, so good to not be drowning for once. Every now and then, you still asked a question. But they weren’t frantic or confused, not desperate grasps at meaning. They were thoughtful, steady. The kind you could only ask when you understood enough to start wondering why. And he answered them with the same gentle depth he always had. But there was something different about it now. Something less guarded. Something warmer. Eventually, you leaned back in your seat, stretching your arms over your head with a soft groan. “Okay,” you said, smiling a little, “I think that’s everything. I mean for now. Until I find a way to confuse myself again tomorrow.”

Shadow Milk Cookie regarded you with a soft look, the corners of his mouth curving upward in that quiet, elusive way of his. “Then tomorrow, I will be here.” 

You let out a laugh, your hand brushing your notes into a neat pile. “Of course you will. You’re as consistent as the moon.” 

He tilted his head slightly, expression unreadable but not distant. “Even the moon waxes and wanes.”

 “…But you don’t,” you said, then quickly added, “At least, not when it comes to this.” He didn’t answer right away. But his gaze lingered on you longer than it needed to. Something soft. Something steady. And you found that for today you didn’t need him to say anything more. Shadow Milk Cookie had begun tidying the corner of his desk a quiet, practiced movement, like brushing away the remnants of time. You gathered your things just as softly, your fingertips trailing along the edge of your notebook before finally lifting it from the polished wood. But as you stood, something lingered. Not just your steps, not just your thoughts, but a truth you hadn’t spoken yet. The kind that pressed at your throat with hesitant breath. You clutched your notebook to your chest, and before turning to go, you paused by his desk once more.

“…Can I ask you something?” 

He looked up immediately. Not surprised. Not impatient. Just present. “As always.” 

You bit your lip, gaze faltering. “Do you want to keep this” you gestured vaguely between you, between the two chairs and the shared silence and all the unnamed moments that had stacked quietly in the space between your hearts “us… quiet?” 

His expression didn’t change at first. But you saw the flicker in his eyes. A small shift, like a truth catching the light. “I wouldn’t mind,” you said, quickly, earnestly. “If you did. If that’s what you want. I mean, I understand. You’re… you.” You offered a small smile. “You belong to a bigger world than I do. You have so much ahead of you, and I just…” You swallowed. “I don’t want to be the thing that ever holds you back. I want your happiness more than anything.” 

Shadow Milk Cookie remained still for a heartbeat. Then another. He set the scroll in his hand down with quiet precision, the soft papery hush of it folding into the quiet. His gaze met yours not the gaze of the Sage of Truth, but of the man beneath it. The man who let you ask nonsensical questions just to hear your voice. The one who never looked away when you were uncertain.

“You are not something to hide,” he said at last, his voice low and even as always held the weight of something certain. “But some truths deserve to unfold in peace.” Your heart gave a strange, aching flutter. He stood, stepping around the desk not to close the distance between you, but simply to see you off, as he always did. 

“If discretion grants us quiet joy for a time,” he said softly, “then let us choose that joy.” You nodded slowly, understanding, grateful. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

 You turned toward the door, pulse steadying as your hand reached for the handle. “And for the record,” his voice came, just before you opened it, “your happiness is not a cost to be weighed against mine.” You turned to glance at him, surprised. His gaze met yours, unwavering. “It is part of it.” That moment was enough to carry you through the rest of the night.

The dining hall buzzed with its usual chatter, but your friends were easy to find same table, same chaotic energy. Chai Latte Cookie spotted you first, her hand already raised before you’d fully stepped inside. She waved you over with all the subtlety of a spell gone awry. “Look who finally returns from their very academic meeting,” she sang, scooting over to make room.

 You slid into your seat, giving her a look. “Don’t start.” 

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie snorted into his cup. “Oh, we’ve already started. You’re just catching up.”

 Earl Grey Cookie, ever composed, gave a polite nod. “Welcome back.” He set his teacup down with that familiar, deliberate clink. “We took the liberty of organizing your Spire application.”

 You blinked. “Wait, what?”

 Chai Latte grinned. “Well, not submitting anything. Just getting everything in one place.” 

Hazelnut stretched his arms behind his head. “More like rescuing your drafts from binder purgatory.” 

Earl Grey reached into his satchel and produced a neatly clipped stack of papers, which he passed across the table to you. “You had almost everything already. We compiled what we found. Personal essay, transcripts, relevant project summaries, letters you’ve started…”

Chai Latte Cookie beamed. “We even labeled the sections. Earl Grey wouldn’t let me use glitter ink, though.” 

“I spared you,” Earl Grey said dryly. You flipped through the pages, a bit stunned. “This is… really well-organized.”

 “Of course it is,” Chai said, reaching over to straighten one of the tabs. “He color-codes everything like his life depends on it.” 

Earl Grey ignored her. “You’ve got four weeks until the deadline. But if you want to be considered for the earlier review batch, I’d recommend finishing your research statement by the end of next week.” 

You looked at the stack, heart catching just a little at the effort they’d put in. “I didn’t even ask.” 

“You didn’t have to,” Chai said, nudging your arm. “We knew you’d want to apply early.” 

Hazelnut nodded. “Besides, this way you don’t have to panic last-minute. Very unlike you, I know.”

 You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was hard to fight. “I don’t even look stressed.”

“No,” Earl Grey agreed smoothly, “you look suspiciously well-balanced. Which is why we struck while the calm was fresh.” 

“We can go over the rest of it tomorrow,” Chai offered, tugging your tray toward you. “Tonight, just eat and bask in how loved and supported you are.”

 You laughed. “You’re unbelievable.”

 “And you’re welcome.” She tapped your arm. “Come back to my dorm after, yeah? We’ll start organizing the research sections. Or nap. Or both.”

 Hazelnut grinned. “Mostly the nap.”

 Earl Grey just smirked, sipping his tea. “I’ll bring copies of the department rubrics tomorrow. For your reference.” Your chest ached, but in a good way. Full. Grateful. This strange, unexpected life you were building wasn't just yours anymore. “Okay,” you murmured, hugging the papers closer to your chest. 

“Tomorrow.” The thought of the Spire didn’t feel far away. It felt like something real. Something possible. Something within reach. You let your fingers linger on the edge of the neatly compiled documents, flipping absently through the labeled sections again as warmth rose in your chest. All the care, all the little details each one held pieces of your friends. It wasn’t just their effort you held in your hands. It was them.

“So…” you said, glancing up at them around the table, “what about you guys? Are you all submitting for early review too?” 

Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie looked up from his plate, a half-eaten bread roll hanging between his fingers. “That’s the plan,” he said. “Assuming Chai doesn’t start rewriting her personal statement every other night.” 

Chai Latte Cookie swatted his arm. “I’m just thinking about fine-tuning the narrative voice.” 

“You’re going to be rewriting your life story like it’s a romance novel,” he shot back, grinning.

 “It is!” she declared with a dramatic flourish, earning a chuckle from Earl Grey Cookie. You turned to him. “And you?” 

Earl Grey lifted his cup, always so poised. “I’ll be submitting before the week is out,” he said. 

“Just waiting on one final signature.” You nodded slowly. “So… letters of recommendation are all that’s left for everyone?”

 “Pretty much,” Chai said, balancing her spoon on her finger. “Professor Mulberry’s writing mine, but I’m going to ask Professor Pistachio, too. She knows my research better.”

Hazelnut raised a hand. “Professor Currant. He already said yes. He owes me after I helped him fix his projector like three times.” Earl Grey took a measured sip of tea. “I’ve asked Professor Cardamom, as mentioned.”

 He paused, looking at you. “Have you decided who you’ll ask?” Your breath caught. Your thoughts immediately drifted to him his eyes, the soft way he’d looked at you when you’d asked what you were, the weight in your chest when he didn’t answer but stayed anyway. 

“I think I know,” you said softly. Chai Latte’s smile bloomed like sunlight. “He’d say yes,” she said. “I know he would.”

 You offered a sheepish smile, tucking your papers closer. “I’ll… ask tomorrow. Maybe.” Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie smirked. “Oh, come on. You’ve already made out with the man, what's a letter of rec in comparison?”

 Your face went red. “Hazel-!” Chai burst out laughing, Earl Grey pressed a hand to his mouth in a rare moment of stifled amusement, and you could only bury your face in your hands.

“I hate you all,” you muttered into your palms.

 “No, you don’t,” Chai teased, leaning her shoulder against yours. “You love us. And you’re going to do great.” You peeked out from between your fingers, and for a moment, the thought of the Spire didn’t feel heavy or impossible or frightening. It felt like something you were walking toward together. Maybe it wasn’t about reaching the top alone. Maybe it was about the ones walking beside you the whole way there. And tomorrow… you’d ask. 

Dinner had ended in a blur of laughter and half-finished stories, the kind of night that made you forget the time until it was too late. By the time you and Chai Latte Cookie reached her dorm, the halls of the Orchid Wing had quieted to a sleepy hush, the enchanted lanterns dimmed to their softer, golden hue. Her room welcomed you with its usual warmth, soft and familiar the scent of cardamom and honey curling around you like a shawl. The constellation-threaded curtains danced in the faint breeze, and the fairy lights blinked low and slow, like they too were ready for rest. Books and trinkets stood like sentinels in their places, watching over the space with a kind of loving stillness. Chai didn’t bother to turn on any brighter lights. Instead, she set her satchel down with a sigh and pulled out the packet Earl Grey had prepared. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice a murmur in the hush of the room. “Research tracks. Let’s at least pick the ones you’re leaning toward so we’re not scrambling tomorrow.”

You dropped your bag beside hers, stifling a yawn as you joined her on the bed. The plush quilts dipped beneath your weight like they were embracing you, and the moment you sat down, you felt how late it truly was. “Do we really have Almond Custard first thing?” you muttered, rubbing your eyes. You don’t know why you bothered to ask…you knew the answer.

 Chai smirked. “Unfortunately, yes. Bright and early. And you know how he gets if we’re late he drones slower just to punish us.” 

You groaned and flopped back against the pillows. “This is cruel. There should be a rule against late-night responsibility and early-morning boredom coexisting.” 

She chuckled, laying down beside you with the research packet still in her hands. “Just pick your top three tonight, and we’ll organize the rest tomorrow after class.” 

“Fine.” You reached over, squinting at the categories in the low light. “Leylines. Dimensional stability. Artifact restoration.” 

Chai hummed in approval. “Strong choices. We’ll mark those and build out the proposal after class.” 

You let out a soft breath. “Thanks for doing this with me.” She didn’t say anything at first. Just reached over and gently adjusted one of the velvet pillows behind your head. “Of course.” You both knew you wouldn’t be awake much longer. She clicked off the fairy lights with a flick of her fingers, leaving only the soft glow of the charm-warmed teapot on her desk. Then she settled beside you, her arm brushing yours beneath the covers.

“Wake-up call at dawn,” she said through a yawn, “and I swear, if you fake sleep, I’m dunking you in cold water.” You smiled sleepily. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Liar.”

You let the silence stretch between you, quiet and safe. And then, just as your eyes began to flutter shut, you heard her whisper, barely audible beneath the breath of the curtains “I’m proud of you.” You didn’t answer. Not because you didn’t hear her. But because your heart did, and that was enough. Sleep claimed you gently, wrapped in the warmth and scent of tea and twilight. And someone who had always, always stayed.

The next morning came far too soon. Drowsy sunlight filtered through the constellation-speckled curtains, casting golden patterns over the room. The air smelled of jasmine and cinnamon warm, familiar, like the remnants of a half-forgotten dream. You blinked awake slowly, blinking against the soft light, your mind still wrapped in the folds of sleep. And that’s when you noticed it. Chai Latte Cookie had, at some point in the night, wrapped herself around you like a favorite pillow. Her arm was slung over your waist, her cheek resting against your shoulder, her breath soft and steady in the crook of your neck. Her hair smelled like her tea floral, warm, and sweet and the weight of her presence was both grounding and… impossible to slip away from.

 You shifted slightly, trying not to wake her. Her grip tightened. You groaned softly. Of course. A muffled voice mumbled from behind you. “No moving. Warm.”

 “Chai,” you whispered, poking at her arm, “we have class.”

 “Don’t care,” she mumbled, nuzzling closer. “You’re comfy. Five more minutes.” 

“Professor Almond Custard will literally bore us to death if we’re late.” A dramatic sigh. Her arm loosened slightly, but she still didn’t let go.

You gave her a gentle shake. “Chai.” Another groan. 

Then, reluctantly, she peeled her arm back with the sluggish agony of someone parting with the last honey-drizzled waffle on campus. She flopped onto her back, blinking up at the ceiling with one eye open. “…You’re so annoying in the mornings,” she muttered, voice hoarse with sleep. 

You smiled. “You say that like it’s new.” 

She waved a hand limply toward the teapot still warm on her charm tray. “Warm tea on the desk. Go be functional. I’ll rise like the dead in a minute.” As you sat up and stretched, your heart swelled a little with affection. It was the kind of morning that, despite the looming threat of Almond Custard’s lecture, felt soft and safe woven with lazy smiles and quiet friendship.

 You reached for the tea. “You’re the one who latched onto me like I was a quilt.” Her only response was a sleepy hum and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes… but lingered all the same. You paused mid-sip, blinking down at the cup in your hands. The tea was warm and comforting, as if it had just been poured and yet you knew neither of you had gotten up in hours.

You glanced over your shoulder at Chai Latte Cookie, who still hadn’t moved from her sprawled position on the bed, one arm thrown dramatically over her eyes like a swooning noble.

 “…How is this tea still warm?” you asked, eyeing the cup like it might reveal its secrets if you stared hard enough. “It’s been sitting here since last night, hasn’t it?”

 She cracked open one eye, lips curling into a lazy, triumphant smirk. “Mm. Magic.” You squinted. “That’s not an answer.” 

“It is an answer. Just not one you understand before breakfast.” 

You set the cup back on the tray, though your hands lingered near the steam curling up in delicate wisps. “Seriously though, what spell keeps tea warm but doesn’t overbrew it?”

 Chai rolled onto her side, propping her head up with one hand. “An enchantment I learned from my aunt. She used to make whole pitchers of chai and keep them warm for days. Said the secret was warmth without burn. Gentle heat. Like affection.” She grinned. “Like me.” 

You gave her a look. “So what you’re saying is the tea is imbued with the essence of you.” 

“Exactly.” She tossed a pillow at you with very little aim. “Drink it with reverence.” You caught it with a laugh, shaking your head. “You are so full of yourself.”

“And you love it.” You didn’t argue. Mostly because she wasn’t wrong. The morning air was crisp as you and Chai Latte Cookie stepped out of the dorm, the soft clink of her tea thermos tapping against her satchel with every step. You’d barely managed to wriggle out of her grip earlier; she had clung to you sometime during the night like a beloved plush, soft and immovable, mumbling half-asleep protests when you’d tried to move.

 You’d barely had time before the morning pulled you both forward, the hazy light of dawn glimmering through the ivy-veiled arches of Blueberry Yogurt Academy. By the time you reached the central fountain on the way to Professor Almond Custard’s lecture, Earl Grey Cookie was already there, unsurprisingly punctual, tea in hand and posture perfectly composed. He nodded toward you both, adjusting the strap of his satchel. “Good morning,” he greeted smoothly. “I hope the sleepover didn’t devolve into midnight chaos.”

 “Oh, it absolutely did,” Chai said proudly.

“You didn’t hear about it because you weren’t invited,” you added. He hummed in amusement, eyes twinkling behind his glasses. “Noted.”

Then Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie arrived, nearly bouncing down the steps with his usual easy charm. “There they are!” he said with a grin, stepping up beside you.

“Good morning to you too,” you said, already bracing for whatever chaos he brought with him. “Hold on,” he said, reaching into the pocket of his coat. “I found something the other day meant to give it to you sooner but kept forgetting.” He pulled out a small pendant on a delicate chain, an orchid carved in fine silver, its petals etched with intricate veins and tiny dew-drop sparkles that caught the light.

“I saw it in a market stall,” he explained. “Made me think of you. It’s got this… quiet strength to it. Like it blooms when it wants, not when it’s told.” 

You blinked, stunned. “Hazelnut…” 

He grinned, scratching the back of his neck. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Sentimental. Just take it before I regret getting all poetic this early in the morning.” You took the pendant carefully, the silver cool against your palm. “Thank you. It’s… beautiful.” 

Chai Latte leaned in, whispering with a wicked smile, “You’re getting all the suitors lately.” You elbowed her gently, but your heart fluttered all the same.

Hazelnut just chuckled. “Come on, we’re gonna be late for Almond Custard’s lecture of doom.” Together, the four of you moved as one through the morning mist, the comfort of friendship tucked quietly between the space of laughter. The lecture hall was unusually still for an early morning. No fidgeting. No distracted glances at the window. No whispered side conversations. For once, everyone including your trio of partners-in-chaos was focused. Professor Almond Custard stood at the front of the room, droning on in his usual syrup-slow cadence about interdimensional grain storage and enchanted fermentation ratios, but somehow… it stuck. 

Maybe it was the looming exam next week. Maybe it was the collective determination to end the semester strong. Maybe it was just that shared sense of urgency that crept in when the finish line was finally in sight. You found yourself scribbling notes faster than you could think, underlining terms you knew you’d have to memorize, circling formulas with half-formed mnemonic devices already taking shape in your head. Beside you, Chai Latte Cookie was unusually silent, her brow furrowed and her pen dancing swiftly across her notebook. Her handwriting, always looping and dreamy, had sharpened into something tighter still lovely, but undeniably focused. 

Every so often, she’d tilt her notes your way for you to copy something you’d missed. Behind you, Hazelnut Biscotti Cookie didn’t make a single joke. Not one. His gaze was locked on the board, his fingers tapping steadily as he jotted down formula after formula. His notes weren’t neat, no surprise but they were thorough. You could hear the quiet rustle of his pages turning, one after another, like he was chasing the lecture’s pace and determined not to fall behind.

And Earl Grey Cookie, of course, looked like he was born for moments like these. His notes were already color-coded, diagrams annotated, keywords highlighted with exacting precision. He barely blinked, the corner of his mouth twitching every so often when something particularly important was mentioned. He looked perfectly calm, but you could see the intensity in his eyes, the kind of focus that could burn through stone if left unchecked. You sat straighter. You matched their pace.

You wanted to do well not just for yourself, but for them. For everything you’d been building. For the Spire. The professor’s voice faded in and out of clarity, not because you weren’t listening, but because your mind was working faster now linking concepts, stitching them together with things you’d learned from Shadow Milk Cookie, from your own late-night study sessions, from the lingering weight of all the time you’d invested. This was the final stretch. And you weren’t going to stumble. Not now. The clink of chalk against the board marked the end of a long equation. Almond Custard cleared his throat and turned back toward the hall. 

“This,” he intoned, “will be the cornerstone of your final exam.” A quiet rustle of pages. Pens pressing faster against parchment. No one slacked. No one dared. You glanced at your friends, all of them immersed, serious, determined, burning quietly with a shared sense of purpose. You took a breath. And kept writing. The lecture ended with a dry scrape of chalk and Professor Almond Custard’s half-hearted reminder about next week’s exam. You were already closing your notes before he’d finished his sentence, your fingers itching to be anywhere else.

Outside the classroom, the halls buzzed as usual. You and your friends walked in easy step together, still half-absorbed in the material. Earl Grey had already started analyzing one of the professor’s offhand comments. Chai Latte, always the multitasker, chimed in while braiding a bit of ribbon into her hair. Hazelnut Biscotti popped a candy into his mouth and offered you one without even looking. You shook your head, hugging your portfolio close. 

“Hey… I’m gonna head to the Scholar’s Wing.” Chai looked over with a knowing glance. “Another meeting with him?” 

“Tutoring,” you said too fast, clearing your throat. “Mostly. Also… I want him to look over this.” You lifted your binder slightly for emphasis.

 Hazelnut raised an eyebrow. “You don’t trust our craftsmanship?”

 “Please,” you said, giving him a look. “I trust you three more than I trust myself on most days.” 

“Correct answer,” Earl Grey murmured. You smiled faintly. “I just… want a fourth opinion. He sees things differently. Thoroughly. Painfully, sometimes.” 

Chai Latte nudged your elbow. “You’re hoping for an endorsement, aren’t you?”

 “I mean,” you began, “if anyone’s word could get something noticed by the Spire committee, it’s his.” Hazelnut gave a low whistle. “Think he’d recommend all four of us?”

You shrugged. “I’m not counting on anything. He probably wouldn’t unless he thought it was deserved. Too much integrity, that one.”

 Earl Grey nodded in agreement. “He won’t be swayed by sentiment. But he will tell you the truth. Whether you want to hear it or not.”

 “That’s the plan,” you murmured. Chai gave your shoulder a light squeeze. “Go get your truth, then.” You glanced back at the three of them, warmth pooling low in your chest. “Thanks. I’ll meet you at dinner?” 

“We’ll save your seat,” Hazelnut said, already pulling Chai into a new conversation. And with that, you turned down the familiar path to the Scholar’s Wing, fingers curled tight around the edge of your binder. This wasn’t about doubt. You just wanted to know what he saw when he looked at your work, when he looked at you. You weren’t late. You weren’t even close to late, actually but  your pace had been brisk more out of nerves than necessity. Still, there was something jittery about the way your fingers tapped against your binder, like your body hadn’t yet received the memo that everything was, technically, on time.

The Scholar’s Wing greeted you with its usual hush soft-echoing footsteps, warm sconces glowing like suspended starlight, the faint scent of ancient parchment lingering in the air. You passed a few scholars deep in discussion near the far alcoves, but no one paid you any mind. It was peaceful. Familiar. And maybe that was what made it worse when your foot suddenly slipped on the overly polished marble. It wasn’t dramatic. No witnesses. No loud crash. But your binder, your painstakingly organized, section-labeled, early-application-ready binder flew from your hands in an arc that felt cruelly slow. The contents fanned out in every direction: pages sliding across the floor like they were trying to flee your academic future, post-it notes scattering like panicked birds. You didn’t fall. You just stumbled, catching yourself with a quick, awkward step forward.

But somehow, that was worse. You stood still for a second, heat flooding your face. Not because anyone was watching. Not because someone laughed. But because of that ridiculous little flinch in your chest that whispered, Of course. Of course this would happen now. You crouched down quickly, gathering up your pages, cursing every single loose document for not staying put in their designated folders. You had dividers for a reason.

Earl Grey would have been appalled. A soft sigh slipped past your lips as you pressed everything back into place, palms brushing away the dust that had settled along the page corners. You gave the binder a pat like it was a pet that needed soothing and straightened. Still not late. Still fine. Just… slightly less composed than you wanted to be. You smoothed your hands down the front of your robes, forced your shoulders back, and took the last stretch of hallway with steady steps. Shadow Milk Cookie’s door came into view, tall and dark and just a little intimidating, like it always was. You paused at the threshold, one breath to center yourself, then knocked three times softly. For formality’s sake.

And then, you opened the door, stepping inside with your binder pressed close to your chest and a heart that beat just a little too loud in your ears. Shadow Milk Cookie didn’t glance up at first. His desk was covered in constellations of parchment and drifting quills notes levitating just above the surface, slowly rotating through invisible orbits as though the air around him itself hummed with focus. His brows were furrowed, eyes moving quickly as he scribbled something down with a deep indigo ink that shimmered faintly, catching the warm lamplight.

You didn’t speak right away. You never did when he looked like this. There was something endearing about it this kind of focused stillness he fell into when no one else was watching. He wasn’t the Sage of Truth then, or the Fount of Knowledge, or any of the titles inked beneath his name in gilded letters. He was just… Shadow Milk. Lost in thought, and unaware at least for the moment that you had entered. You lingered by the door, hugging your binder closer to your chest. Not out of nervousness, not really. Just… quiet admiration. There was something sacred about watching someone so consumed by something they loved.

Eventually, as if the rhythm of your breath finally disturbed the quiet equilibrium of the room, he paused. His quill stilled mid-word. His fingers relaxed. And then, he lifted his gaze. His eyes found yours calm, luminous, sharp as ever and you could see the shift behind them. That subtle click back into awareness. “You’re early,” he said, voice low and steady, the faintest curl at the edge of his mouth betraying his otherwise unreadable tone.

 You smiled, a little sheepish. “Not really. You’re just distracted.” Shadow Milk Cookie set his quill down with care, the ink on the parchment still drying in slow, shimmering trails.

 “Is that what I am?” he asked, tilting his head slightly. “Distracted?”

“Thoroughly,” you replied, stepping further into the room. “But in a charming way.” He huffed, a soft exhale that could almost be called a laugh, and leaned back in his chair as his papers gently rearranged themselves with a flutter.

“And what brings you here with such flattery on your tongue?” he asked, eyes gleaming. You placed your binder on his desk and slid into your usual seat. 

“I want a fourth opinion,” you said. “On the Spire portfolio. My friends helped me get it together, but well, I figured I’d ask the most terrifyingly honest person I know to look it over.” 

He looked at the binder. Then back at you. “And what makes you think I would go easy on you?”

“I don’t,” you admitted, smiling. “That’s the point.” You nudged the binder closer across his desk, its neatly clipped pages now feeling heavier than ever. Your fingers hesitated just for a second before slipping away. “I want you to look it over,” you said, meeting his gaze. “All of it.” 

Shadow Milk Cookie’s eyes flicked to the binder, then back to you. “I gathered as much.” You let out a breath, shoulders tightening with something nervous but steady. “And I want you to be honest. Completely. Brutally, if you have to.” 

There was a pause. He looked at you not just with those piercing, soul-deep eyes that always made you feel like your thoughts were laid bare, but with something gentler hidden beneath the surface. Something knowing. “Brutally?” he echoed. “Even if it leaves your pride in tatters?” 

You snorted. “Please. My pride’s already hanging on by a thread.”

He considered you for a moment longer, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he reached out and opened the binder. “If you ask for truth, you shall have it,” he said, flipping to the first page. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

You smiled faintly, hands settling in your lap. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

A/N Hey y'all <3 So I finally got around to posting this I am so excited to finally have more time to write and work on things I want so yah!!! HELLL YEAHHH!!!! anyways I have been doing well... I am getting through my inbox...I will have more time tomorrow...Now excuse me as I go to finish my genetics lab report <3 I'm almost done

anyways...

Remember to follow and reblog for more bangers 😎😎😎🔥🔥🔥🔥

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[neobubz]

The Tutor (M)

apologies that this story took so long. it was a long one to write and after writing the later half of it it 2x only for it to get deleted i didn't know if this was ever going to get finished. anyway, hope you like it nonetheless. enjoy ^^

Word Count: approx. 29k Pairing(s): tutor johnny (mr. suh) x fem reader feat. professor jaehyun (mr. jeong) Warning(s): explicit language, mdni (minors do not interact), smut, father johnny, johnny as a dad, infidelity, cheating, tutor x student, dubcon, slow burn, au, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), s*uiriting Preview (no spoilers here lol): Managing to shove them higher you put on a bright smile. “Well, then these are for you Mr. Suh! I also bought you some chocolates. My mom and dad like these. I always get it for them for their anni —” you stop yourself. “Sp-Special occasions. Or when I want something from them.” You turn your almost blunder into a joke. “I also have some flowers and chocolates for Lily. Mr. Jeong told me what her favorites are.”

Again you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. Mr. Suh’s body hunching over until his face is buried in your neck. “Thank you,” he pulls you close to him. “Thank you.” Disclaimer: because of the length of the story i am not able to format it the way i normally do. so again, my apologies. i'll keep this in mind going forward :)

It wasn’t as if you didn’t try. You did everything humanly possible to turn your grades around. Studying to all hours of the night. Going to the tutors on campus for help — all of which ran for the hills when they saw you coming. Even asking your bestie, Doyoung, for help. Knowing full well what a pickle you were in he volunteered as well. However, when he saw how truly helpless you were he forfeited and told you to change career paths.

Currently in your second year at Neo University, you were acing every class except one. One single class in which you were warned about. No one passed with flying colors, even Doyoung struggled. Doyoung, the Valedictorian when the two of you were in High School — excelling in his classes with flying colors in Elemntary and Middle school, but when it came to this class — barely passing with a D+. This class was a different beast all together. Some girls in your dormitory actually cried when their final grades came in. Only sending shivers down your spine for the following semester where you too would find yourself in tears time and time again. 

Sadly, all of your feeble attempts only resounded in a giant letter in blood red ink, F. Again! This has been your fifth F of the semester. Thankfully completing all of the homework assignments, even the extra problems was keeping your head above water. But still, an F was not what you wanted to see. Not only that, your teacher decided to emphasize the triumph with a thick red circle. And to top it off, scribbled underneath, ‘stay after class,’ written in beautiful cursive handwriting. This was it. The talk. You were dreading this moment. Every year, every teacher from primary school to secondary has given you the talk. 

‘What is wrong?’ ‘What aren’t you understanding?’ ‘If you were struggling this much you should have asked for help!’ ‘Have you tried a private tutor?’ Groaning you let your head fall flat onto your desk. Mr. Jeong wasn’t going to be any different. He was going to say the same things you’ve heard all your life. 

At this point you were sure that Math was just a big douche who loved to shit on you time and time again. Your personal kryptonite in the world. All of the functions, equations, a million fucking ways to do one single problem because some sick twisted asshole came around and said ‘hey, I’ve discovered a new method,’ only adding to everyone’s frustrations! Yeah, Math hated you and you hated it. Case closed.

When the bell rang and everyone scattered out of the classroom all to eager to leave, you stayed back, as instructed. Raising his arm and slicking back his dark brown hair — a habit Mr. Jeong had that made all the girls swoon, yourself included, he made his approach. Eyes dead set on you. Lips in a hard line, he pulled out the chair in front and turned it to face your desk before sitting down. 

“I’m guessing you know why I’ve asked you to stay back,” he starts a long tired sigh leaving him.

“I swear I’m trying!” You rush to get everything out before he even has a chance to ask you the same questions every other teacher has asked you. “I went down to the tutoring classroom. They all have decided I’m a lost cause. I even asked my friend who took your class last semester! He only looked at me like I’m stupid. I’m not stupid by the way,” you hiss surprising Mr. Jeong. A tiny smile creeping at the corners of his mouth. “I’ve struggled with Math my whole life. No matter how hard I try to study I just can’t seem to grasp any of the concepts. At this point I’m pretty sure it’s my arch nemesis!”

“Why didn’t you seek my help from the very beginning?” He asks calmly.

“I don’t want to look like an idiot right off the bat! I hate being peoples’ ‘little project.’” You roll your eyes at the label you’ve been placed with since childhood.

Turning his head away Mr. Jeong covers his growing smile with the back of his hand disguising it as a cough. “Well, I for one don’t think you’re stupid.” 

“Really?!” 

If this were some kind of anime you know you’d be looking at him with shaky watery eyes, grateful that someone finally sees you — not as an idiot but as someone who has the capability to accomplish their hearts desires! But since is reality you settle for a stunned expression, your mouth hanging open.

“I just think you need some guidance. May I see your test?” Nodding you grab the paper from your folder sliding it to him. “Right here, you used the right equation, but made the tiniest error here,” he points with a blue pen circling the area of your mistake. Thank heavens it wasn’t a red pen. By the end of college you’ll never want to see the color red again.

Looking up at Mr. Jeong stunned you shake your head in disbelief. “S-So I just goofed?”

“Well, yes and no. Do you go over your work and double, triple check your answers?”

“I never know if I’m right or wrong and I get freaked out and second guess myself. So I just think it is what it is and hand in my paper. I promise I’ll triple, no! Quadruple check my work next time!”

“Checking your work is only half the problem. You still aren’t understanding all the equations.” He points to a few problems on the second page. “The equations are all wrong. You mixed the second page equation setup with the third page. So, ultimately, all of the answers are wrong.”

Groaning you slam your head on your desk. Mr. Jeong moving his hands away just in time before you made another blunder and crushed his fingers. “Maybe I am stupid. I’m sorry, Mr. Jeong.” 

“You’re not stupid. Please don’t call yourself that and please don’t slam your head down that hard. You’ll hurt yourself. Now, sadly, I myself am booked up solid with tutoring some of my other students. But, I do have a friend who I know can help you.”

“Really?!” You practically spring up from your seat.

“Y-Yes,” he moves away from you eyeing you suspiciously. “His name is Johnny Suh. He teaches Mathematics at a high school not far from here. If you don’t mind I can give him a call and see if he’s available to help you.”

“Yes! Please, Mr. Jeong! My mom is going to kill me if my grades don’t start taking a turn for the better.”

And with that you stand outside of Mr. Suh’s house, or mansion. Your head tilts to the side wondering how in the hell a high school teacher is able to live in a home that can be used in itself as a small school for children. Checking down at the address Mr. Jeong gave you, you check to make sure you were in the right spot. 7716 Zennie Drive. 

Shrugging you ring the doorbell and place a gentle knock on the door. After your talk with Mr. Jeong, the following day when you had his class he pulled you to the side as you walked in. Stating he talked to Mr. Suh, and he was more than willing to be your tutor. 

Apparently the two went way back to their early high school days as best friends. You were told you’d be taken care of but the only time Mr. Suh’s schedule was free was Wednesday, Friday and Saturday from 4PM to 7PM. Thankfully, you scheduled all your classes in the morning hours — your last class ending at 12PM, giving you ample time to eat and rest up before heading over to whom you hope is your saving grace. 

But the door has remained closed. No movement. No sounds coming from inside. Checking your phone you made sure that today was in fact, Wednesday. Yep. And it was 4:14PM. Having trouble locating the home at first put you behind schedule. Yet, you’re still standing outside the massive door and no one appears to be home. 

“Mr. Suh!” You knock on the door. 

Stepping back you wait. Shuffling back and forth you try to focus on any signs of life coming from behind the door when a blood curdling scream comes from the other side of the house.

Jumping at the sound your hand goes to your heart. “What the —” Looking around hoping you weren’t the only one who heard the scream you find yourself alone. Great…

Reaching into your pocket you grab your keys which hold not only a whistle, but a fresh new canister of pepper spray. Gripping the spray tightly in your hand you slowly make your way around the side of the house. 

“M-Mr. Suh…” you whisper. No answer. Sticking yourself to the wall of the home you make your way around the first corner only to see something you didn’t expect.

“No!” Another high-pitched scream pierces your ears.

“I’m going to get you!” An older gentleman chases after a small girl in a tutu around a massive backyard.

“No! The evil troll king!” The little girl wails. 

“Get back here with my gold!”

Blinking a few times you hope your mind is making up the scene in front of you. This is Mr. Suh?! The man in front of you appears to be around the same age as Mr. Jeong, but he is much more…he lets out such a light hearted laugh that you step back from him, handsome!!!

“Lord help me…” you whisper to yourself.

Mr. Jeong was already the hottest teacher on campus. Granted, not exactly your type. He held some kind of mystery behind his eyes that unsettled you the numerous times you made eye contact with him. Perhaps it was a look of pity he had knowing you were bombing his class, but there was something darker and mysterious. Something that made your stomach twist and turn. 

Many girls would gawk and stare when he’d walk across campus after his classes ended before his break. Admittedly so have you. Every time he walked it seemed as if there was a red carpet or some type of runway he was strutting down. The man was a living breathing luxury brand model! Definitely up there with the Versace or Prada models. 

Mr. Suh, gulping the saliva that was threatening to pour from your parted lips — he was a different type of handsome, and absolutely your type. Short jet black hair sticks to his forehead the longer he plays with the little girl. A loose fitted white button down shirt, with three buttons undone revealing a glimpse of his chest. A broad ches, and just the thought of what he looks like shirtless has your heart beating faster. You were entering dangerous waters with your gawking but you continued. Loose fitted trousers that didn’t give way to the shape of his legs but with the overall size of Mr. Suh, he absolutely has muscular legs. He just screamed toned.

“U-Uh,” you try to find your voice holding up your hand. “E-Excuse me,” you manage to squeak out.

Freezing, the little girl and who you assume is Mr. Suh turn in your direction. 

“Daddy!” The little girl cries out before running behind him. Her tiny hands clenching onto his pants — eyes peeking around him to look at you, before hiding once more.

Daddy? You stare wide-eyed. He’s a father, already?!

“I’m sorry,” you start to back away. “I don’t mean to intrude. I heard a scream and —”

“It’s fine,” a chuckle comes from the man. “You’re the student Jaehyun sent over, right?”

“Jaehyun?” Your head tilts. “M-Mr. Jeong?” 

Nodding, Mr. Suh walks forward, his daughter still clinging to him for dear life. “Sorry, yes. Mr. Jeong,” Johnny towers over you. “I’m Johnny Suh, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” He reaches out his hand.

Saying your name quickly, you enclose your hand around his only to gasp at the size difference. “N-Nice to meet you too…” you say in awe.

“I hope you weren’t waiting long. I lost track of time. This is my daughter, Lily.” He gestures to the girl glaring at you from behind him.

Bending down to her level you try to give her your sweetest smile. “Hi, Lily. It’s nice to meet you.”

“No!” She shouts at you and runs away from you and into the house.

“U-Uhhh…” a sliver of sweat rolls down the side of your face. 

“Lily!” Mr. Suh shouts. “I’m sorry, for her behavior. I think she’s a little shy.” He brushes his hair out of his face. “Please, come inside. So, Jaehyun told me you’re having trouble in his class,” he starts off the conversation.

“Y-Yes,” you quickly follow behind him. “No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to understand a single thing he’s teaching. I’ve tried asking for help on campus but no one seems to want to deal with me. It’s sad to say that you too may fall prey to my idiocy and drop me as well.”

Chuckling Mr. Suh slides open the glass door leading straight into the kitchen. “I’m sure we can figure out what the problem is.”

“I hope so. My mom’s going to kill me if my grades don’t improve soon.”

Taking off your shoes at the door you’re led to a small table in front of a window. “Please, have a seat and I’ll be right back. Would you like anything to drink while you wait?”

“A glass of water would be lovely.”

Heading over to his cupboard he grabs down a glass, goes to the fridge and pours you some water. Thinking he would do what your father always does when you ask for a glass of water and get it from the tap — this was definitely an act of kindness. 

“I’m just going to go check on Lily, then I’ll be right back.”

“I can leave and come back some other time if this is an inconvenience for you. I don’t want to take your time away from your daughter.”

“Nonsense. She’s just a little crabby today,” he rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t you get your book out and start on your assignment and I’ll be right back.”

“Yes, sir,” you nod and scramble to take out your book and binder.

When Mr. Suh was out of earshot you exhale a long deep breath that you didn’t know you were holding in. This is terrible. Absolutely terrible! Taking out your phone you shoot a quick message to your best friend Jennifer.

I’m in deep shit!  My tutor is soooo hot! Like fucking hot!  And he’s sooo tall! What do I do Jen?!!!!

Hiding your phone under your leg you wait for her reply. Having seen the time, she should be getting out of soccer practice soon and heading for the lockers. Twiddling your pencil in your hand you try to focus on the problem staring back at you.

This was going to be grueling. How is it that for the last year and a half you haven’t stepped foot in front of a man you thought was handsome — but when you need help because you’re a dumbass, the Universe places a walking Greek God before you? 

Then again, you scoff. “He’s married, you idiot.” You whisper. “And he’s a dad! Focus!!”

Finding a smidge of peace from your rampant thoughts you get to work. The homework seemed easy when Mr. Jeong was explaining it. All you had to do was follow the equation that you just learned. Simple enough.

Or so you thought... An eon went by and you were still staring at the first problem. Pencil snagged between your teeth, bite marks up and down the piece of wood. A personal habit you picked up specifically from Mr. Jeong’s class.

“You use this, to solve this.” You start talking to yourself quietly. “Then why is it so damn hard to solve this problem?!” 

“Stuck already?” A voice whispers next to your ear.

Jumping back, your phone crashing to the floor and you stare wide-eyed at Mr. Suh. With a small cat-like grin he takes a seat next to you, picking up your phone in the process.

“Didn’t mean to startle you. You were just hyper focused and I couldn’t resist.”

“Uh, y-yeah,” you reach for your phone only for it to slip out of your hands. “Shit,” you curse.

“About the language,” Mr. Suh clears his throat.

“Oh no!” You pop your head up from under the table. “Yes. No. I’m sorry. I know you have a child. I’m just nervous I guess. Please forgive me. It won’t happen again.”

Nodding he leans back in his chair. “Why are you nervous? Is Jaehyun stressing you out with all the work?”

“No!” You shout. “I mean,” you try to speak calmly. “I’m just nervous that you’ll find out I’m unteachable.”

“No one is unteachable. I’m sure Jaehyun will tell you the same thing. He’s given me a heads up on what you’re having trouble with, but if you don’t mind me asking, may I see your tests?”

Horror befalls you. He can’t be serious. He doesn’t actually want to see that travesty. Surely Mr. Jeong told him how much of a dumbass you were. He has to know that you are in desperate need of help.

“My-My tests?” 

“Yes. I want to see exactly where you’re struggling. This tutoring is going to be in regards to your Final. For the next two and a half months I’m going to try my best to bring your grade up so you can pass and put this class and Jaehyun behind you. In order to do that, I need to see everything that you’re struggling with.”

“Fine…” Opening your binder you fish out all of your tests and quizzes. Every proof of your failure. “I’ll understand if you want to quit while you’re ahead.” You squint your eyes tightly as you slide the papers over to him.

“Oh stop it can’t be —” he pauses mid-sentence his mouth falling open. “Oh, wow…” he mumbles.

“Yep. Told you. I’m stupid. Still want to take on this walking nightmare?”

“I mean he told me you were really struggling but I didn’t think this badly.” He glances up at you for a second to see the pout on your lips and in your eyes. “I’m not going to run away. I’m just shocked he waited until you were this deep in the hole to do something.” 

“Maybe he thought I would magically get better.”

“He said his schedule is booked solid with tutoring other students?” 

“Yep.”

“He’s so blind,” Mr. Suh shakes his head. “Okay, how about today I help you with your homework for Monday, and by tomorrow I’ll have a study plan and a guide all made up for you!” 

“Eh?! You still want to help me? Are you sure? I won’t be upset if you say no. Even my best friend abandoned me.”

Laughing he waves a dismissive hand. “Believe it or not, Jaehyun wasn’t the Math genius he is today. Even when he was back in college he struggled a little. We all need help every now and then.”

“Thank you, Mr. Suh! I won’t let you down!”

Just like he promised, he helped you with your homework. Shockingly only looking at you incredulously a few times when he needed to dumb everything down for you to the point his daughter would be able to understand. Feeling a little better after your first tutoring session, you head back to your dorm with your head held high. Maybe this was going to be your second wind. A power up to keep you in the game.

You were sure of one thing. You would not let Mr. Suh down. 

When you got to your dorm room your best friend, Jennifer was waiting impatiently outside the door. Her fingers being gnawed by her teeth. “Where the hell have you been? I was worried about you. I tried calling and texting back.”

“Eh?” You grab your phone. “My phone was on the whole —” you press the home button but it doesn’t turn on. “This can’t be. I charged it before I left. I had a full battery.”

Pressing the small button on the side you find your phone had been turned off completely. A cold shiver rakes over you. Did Mr. Suh turn off your phone when he picked it up? Your Lock Screen appearing, a text from your friend the only thing displayed.

A hot tutor?! How hot is he? A scale of 0-10? Take a picture I want to see!

Gulping you show her your phone. “I-I think Mr. Suh turned off my phone. Jen! What do I do? What if he saw your message?! How can I show my face around him again? He probably thinks I’m disgusting! He’s a married man with a child! What do I do?!” You stomp around like a child as you open your door.

“Don’t freak out. Maybe he just turned it off. He could have a no phone policy.”

“You think?”

Nodding she ushers you to your bed where she plops down beside you. “So, tell me everything! Seriously! How hot is he?”

Giving his daughter one last kiss, Johnny wishes her a goodnight and sweet dreams. Today was a day like no other. Little did he know when he decided to take on this job of being a tutor would he find out that his student needed a savior imstead. Sighing he reaches into his pocket for his phone. 

Jaehyun had a lot of explaining to do. Why he didn’t tell him you were so far behind in your studies? When he said one of his students needs help and he’s booked solid he assumed it was just a normal case of an over achieving student. Seeing your grades brought on a whole other problem. You would need to get at least a B+ on your final to even have a passing grade. Why would he let you get so far behind, and how does Jaehyun expect you to get your grades up in such a short period of time?

It just didn’t make sense. Jaehyun has always been active in the Math Lab, as well as private tutoring jobs on the weekends. During his breaks he helps any student who can’t meet up with him after his usual working hours. Something had to be up. There is no way he would let you slip through the cracks like this.

Holding the phone to his ear, Johnny steps away from his daughters room.

“Hey!” Jaehyun says on the other end. “How did it go?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Johnny hisses quietly. “Why did you let her get to this point? When I saw her grades I thought I was seeing things! Seriously, Jaehyun…what the hell is going on?”

“I didn’t intend for this to happen.” Jaehyun snaps defensively. “I’ve been booked solid since the semester started. She was doing poor in the beginning but so were a lot of other students. This course is one of the hardest courses to teach and learn. I figured if she was really having trouble she would ask me for help or go to the Math Lab.”

“She’s in deep trouble, you know that, right?”

“Of course I know that. Which is why I sent her to you. Plus,” Jaehyun pauses alarming Johnny. “I wouldn’t have been a good tutor for her anyway.”

“Why not? You’re her teacher! You know all the answers! How would you not be a good tutor?” Johnny heads for his study.

Mumbling into the phone Jaehyun confesses. “A conflict of interest.”

Stopping dead in his tracks Johnny stares out into the empty hallway. Jaehyun had to be kidding. He couldn’t have possibly — “For fuck’s sake, man…”

“I know. I didn’t intend for this to happen. I don’t even know when it happened. But it did. That’s why I sent her to you. You are the only person who can help her. I talked to those in the Math Lab and they can barely help the students who understand the basic concepts of what I’m teaching. She was never going to get help from them. I would help her but I can’t.” 

“No shit!” Johnny rubs his forehead feeling a migraine slowly creeping up. “I’ll handle things here. She seems to need a lot of one-on-one guidance. What you’re teaching her isn’t hard but at the same time it is. Exactly what major is she in?”

“Well, this class is for those who are education majors. Primarily those who want to teach either Elementary or Middle School. Sorry for all this. I really wish I could help.”

“Yeah, I know. I may need to push some things around,” Johnny opens the door to his study. Off to the side a liquor cabinet rests with his favorite brands of wine, brandy and vodka. Putting his phone on speaker he pours himself a glass of vodka. The tension already leaving his body. “If I’m to help her get a B, she’ll need help everyday.” He chugs down the hard liquor wincing as it burns the back of his throat.

“What about Lily?”

Laughing, Johnny plops down into his chair. Your face when Lily ran away from you resurfacing. “Lily got scared of her and ran away. She asked me who she was and then asked if she would be around a lot more,” he smiles gently. “She had such a sour face it was hilarious.”

“So, Lily’s staying strong?” Jaehyun asks gently. 

Swirling the small amount of liquid left in his glass Johnny exhales. “As good as can be expected. She still doesn’t understand what’s going on. Hell, neither do I.”

“Have you heard from —”

Johnny quickly stops him. “No! And I don’t want to talk about her,” he glares at the snug silver ring wrapped around his finger. A daily reminder of the love of his life’s betrayal. “I’m done with her.” He touches the ring, fiddling with it. “I’ve given up. It’s been two years. I need to focus on Lily.” He slides the ring up his finger but pushes it back down. 

“I really am sorry man. I thought she was the one.”

“Me too…”

Looking at the problems you do exactly what Mr. Suh told you to do. Breathe. Take your time. Go through each step slowly. There is no need to rush when it comes to homework. It’s all about understanding the basic fundamentals and building confidence. Solve the problem and get an answer. Check so that you don’t miss anything and especially check to see if you made a mistake and got the answer wrong. Everything seemed to be going great. For once your confidence seemed like it was soaring. Then again…

“Only three right?!” You slam your pencil down onto your small desk in your room. This was useless. For the past two hours you worked hard to try to figure out the problems. Doing exactly as instructed only to end up with three out of seven answers right!

The worst part is that you don’t understand where you got the problems wrong. Which part did you have a hiccup and why you didn’t see it and how you can avoid it for next time. You did everything right. Triple checked to see if you missed a step or did something wrong and yet, the same thing happens. Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!

Closing your book for the night you trudge to your bed plopping down. Tomorrow you’ll ask Mr. Suh where you made a mistake and hopefully he can help you.

Mr. Suh, you try to hold back the smile creeping on your face. After having talked with Jennifer you were for sure going to love and dread spending time with him. Love, getting help and finally seeing your grades turn around for the better — at least that’s what you’re hoping, but also for the eye candy factor. His whole presence just made you feel weak in the knees. The dreadful part, actually having to learn all this bullshit your University was calling Math and the fact that Mr. Suh is a married man. 

“His wife,” you whisper. “Why wasn’t she home too?”

Shrugging, you tear your thoughts away from her unknown whereabouts. Whoever she is she’s most likely beautiful. To find a man as handsome as Mr. Suh, and have a cute daughter like Lily, she’s bound to be a gorgeous woman. Someone who works to help others just like Mr. Suh being a teacher and willing to help you. A power couple and their precious angel.

Rolling over onto your back aggressively, you kick your legs like a child. If only you could find your one true love too. To have what Mr. Suh has. Actually, first, you need to get through Mr. Jeong’s class, then find yourself a job, and then you can worry about finding a man. Just as your eyes start to close your phone dings startling you. An unknown number and a message sits on your Lock Screen, making you spring up.

Next time the cellphone gets turned off when the lesson begins. No distractions while you’re under my tutelage. You can swing by tomorrow around 1PM. We’ll have more time to work. Sleep well. You’ll need it. J.Suh

And boy was he serious when he said you would need sleep. Actually, for the past three weeks he’s been working you like a dog. Having put together and entire binder of what to expect on the Final. What you didn’t understand from all of your quizzes, tests, and the Midterm. A Bible of information completely personalized to suit your needs. Every day you went over to Mr. Suh’s house to get help. When you showed up on Saturday after your first study session, he stated he thinks you should come by every day. Monday through Friday your lessons were from 3PM- 7PM. On Saturday’s, secretly the worst day out of the week, you spent six grueling hours being tutored. Sunday your only saving grace.

Honestly, how a man who teaches all day can have the energy to help your dumbass self is beyond you. But, there was a silver lining. At the end of each day, Mr. Suh would create a tiny three question pop quiz talking about the main concepts he helped you with. And after the first week — a complete travesty, you actually started to grow in confidence. The problems were making sense and with this last pop quiz, you got all the answers right! 

His method of madness was actually working. He taught you something! After that small victory you were positive you could end up learning what Mr. Jeong was teaching and you would find a way to turn your grades around. On the topic of grades, that is one thing Mr. Suh never talked to you about. On three separate occasions you asked him what grade you needed to get on your final in order to pass. He would brush the question off by saying,

‘The final is a long ways from now. Let’s focus on your upcoming test.’ 

However, today is the day you’re getting back your first test since you started getting tutored by Mr. Suh. When you were taking it, you heart started to beat quickly. The numbers and questions becoming blurred and spiraling out of control but thinking about everything you’ve learned you took a deep breath and focused. The whole class was empty by the time you finished. Mr. Jeong waiting patiently as you took up until the bell to complete it. 

Now, you’ll see whether or not your efforts were in vain — that is as soon as Mr. Jeong shuts up and hands you back your damn test! 

“Okay, you can start packing up,” Mr. Jeong places the whiteboard marker down onto his desk. “I’ll be handing back your tests from last week. Please if you have any questions or concerns, feel free to ask me.”

Your leg starts to shake. Your pencil rammed into your mouth. This is it. He makes his way across the first row. One by one you see your classmates expressions. Some surprised, some angry, some…well, you know that look all to well. Defeated. As you stare at each of your classmates your nerves start to take over you. Your whole body tingling with anticipation. Mr. Suh would be in the middle of teaching his second class by now and told you to send him a message about how you did around lunchtime. 

Mr. Jeong stops in front of you. His eyes unreadable. Lips in a hard line. He grabs the corner of your paper flipping it over onto the back before moving onto the next student. Saying a quick prayer you turn the paper over. 

Your whole body becomes numb. A cold sweat spreading over your skin like wildfire. This can’t be happening. Flipping through the pages of your test you go over everything with a fine tooth comb. But it was happening. In very bold and almost threatening letters, ‘stay after,’ was bleeding through the first page onto the second. 

The bell rings and everyone leaves except for you. Again. Not even bothering to pack up your belongings until after Mr. Jeong had a word with you, you wait until the last student leaves his classroom. He wishes them well and closes the door. Gulping you sit up straight. 

“I think we should talk about your test,” Mr. Jeong starts.

“Y-Yes, sir…”

He saunters up to you, once again seeming like the ground is his runway — pulls out the chair in front of you and sits down. Combing his fingers through his hair he shows you something you never expected to see. A huge smile with his dimples on display. 

“Congrats!” He leans back into the chair. “You did a wonderful job!”

“Wonderful?!” You scoff. “I got a C- practically a D! How is that wonderful?!” You point to the paper. “After all this work I thought I would for sure get an A this time.”

Laughing, Mr. Jeong turns his face to hide his rather beautiful smile. Something else you would have never expected to see from him. 

“Trust me. You did a wonderful job. You can’t expect in such a short time to see massive results. You should feel proud of yourself.” He rests his hands on your desk. “Seriously, this is making me feel that you won’t have to take this course again next semester.”

“That would be a gift from God himself,” you mumble only to realize what you said. “Ah! S-Sorry Mr. Jeong, it’s just —”

“I understand. When I had to learn how to teach this course I wanted to run away myself. It’s not easy and I know it’s hard to learn. I’m just glad you’re doing better.”

“Well, it’s thanks to you and Mr. Suh. I owe everything to the two of you.”

“Speaking of Mr. Suh, how is everything?”

“Great!” You beam at him. “Mr. Suh went through all of my old tests and quizzes and pointed out where I made mistakes. How to solve the problems and how to find my errors,” you bring out the binder he created for you. “He’s gone above and beyond anything I’ve ever experienced and I’m so grateful for that.” 

Mr. Jeong takes a look at the binder his eyes widening. You were right. This was going above and beyond the call of duty. Scanning over the little quizzes he’s even given you, Mr. Jeong’s happy demeanor starts to fade. He was happy you were doing better, but at the same time he knows full well he would have never thought of doing this for you or any of his students. 

“Impressive,” he clears his throat. “I’ll have to treat Johnny to a beer or two for his help.” He hands you back the binder. “So, everything is okay? He’s treating you nicely?”

“Oh, yes! He’s very nice! I’m truly grateful for all the help he’s given me.”

Nodding, Mr. Jeong leans forward. “I’m happy for you. I do want to apologize for not trying to do something to help you sooner.”

“No. It’s totally fine. It was my fault. I should have asked for help, or asked questions in class — something so that my grades didn’t fall to this point. Oh! Mr. Jeong, I’ve been wondering, exactly what grade do I need to get on my final in order to pass your class? Mr. Suh keeps avoiding the question which is making me a little nervous.”

“Oh, uh,” Mr. Jeong turns from you his eyes trembling. “I think if Mr. Suh wants you to focus on your studies that’s what you need to worry about. The final is still some time away.”

Pouting you glare at him. “It’s going to be impossible for me to pass this class isn’t it?”

“No, it’s just going to take a lot of work,” he rubs the back of his neck. “If you want, we can get a better look at your grades and what you need to do in order to pass this class.”

“Yes, please!”

“Well, I’m free for this break period. Unless you have a class.”

“Nope. My next class doesn’t start until 11.” 

“Great, follow me then.”

Quickly you pack up your belongings into your backpack and follow Jaehyun through the hallway where people were coming and going to their classes. As you make your way through the halls you notice that people are staring your way with strange gazes. They weren’t shocked, or angry, more like perplexed with a dash of spite. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. 

Jeong Jaehyun, Mr. Jeong, the campus hottie. The Professor every girl and woman wishes to have but only those in the Education department ever get. Joy and rapture. Walking beside him you glance up to see his side profile. He is very handsome. Eyes laser focused on the path he’s walking. Shoulders straight, broad, with a natural sway that shows nothing but confidence. Even his strides excude confidence. Upon further inspection he dresses nicely as well. 

On most occasions he wears a button down white shirt, black slacks, with black shoes and a gold watch. Very simple yet on him, luxurious. The only person you think that can compete with such a simple style is Mr. Suh. Laughing to yourself you see how they became friends. They have a similar aura about them but Mr. Suh is a lot easier to be around. Then again, it’s probably because he’s not your Professor and you’re not terrified of failing his class.

“Exactly how long are you going to stare at me?” Mr. Jeong asks you a playful tone in his voice. 

“E-Eh?! Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.” 

Keeping your eyes down at your feet you walk a few steps behind him ashamed of your ogling. It wasn’t like you to stare at someone so shamelessly. Then to be caught red handed, the embarrassment sweeping over you is all consuming. 

“I don’t mind the staring,” Mr. Jeong continues. “I get stared at all the time.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I really didn’t mean to stare.”

“Please, class is over. You can call me Jaehyun.”

Stopping dead in your tracks you stare at your Professor. There is no way in hell you can call him, Jaehyun. You are his student and he the teacher. It would be improper. 

“I don’t think I can,” you chuckle nervously.

“When you’re with Johnny, what do you call him?”

“Mr. Suh.”

“All the time?”

Nodding you smile. “He is my tutor after all. He’s there to help me. Not to be my friend. Plus, he’s already taking a good chunk of his time to help me instead of spending it with his wife and daughter.”

“His wife?” Mr. Jeong walks up to you. “What do you mean his wife?” He grabs you by your shoulders.

“U-Uh, well I haven’t seen her at all, but he has a wedding band.”

Sighing in relief Mr. Jeong releases your shoulders. “Oh, okay. Sorry about that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Has Johnny talked to you about his wife?”

“No, she never comes up in conversation. Actually, nothing personal has come up at all. It’s strictly school work and studying.”

Nodding Mr. Jeong starts walking again, heading down the stairs. The light atmosphere surrounding the two of you long gone the moment you mentioned Mr. Suh’s wife. Was she a sensitive topic? For the last three weeks you’ve wondered why each night you never saw her. By the time your tutoring sessions ended it was 7PM, she would have at least come home by then. 

A thought strikes across your mind. What if she’s sick? What if she can’t get out of bed and that’s the reason you’ve never seen her. Slowly your heart sinks to the pit of your stomach. Mr. Suh’s wife lying in bed ill. Not able to play with her precious daughter, or spend time with her husband in their beautiful home — at least what you’ve seen of it. Smiling brightly you plan out something just for her. A gift that will hopefully brighten her day. 

Holding open the door to the side of the building, Mr. Jeong allows you to walk outside first. “Mr. Jeong,” you keep up with his pace. “What type of woman is Mr. Suh’s wife?”

“She, uh,” he starts fumbling over his words. A strange sight for the suave Professor everyone adores. “Wh-Why do you want to know?”

“I want to get her something. I can only assume that since I’ve never seen her she must be sick, right? I can’t imagine what Mr. Suh must be going through. Juggling work, his daughter, his wife, and now me. He truly is a saint.”

“No. You’ve got it all wrong,” he grabs your wrist stopping you. “Johnny, his wife, she’s not sick.”

Your heart that was wading in the dark depths of your stomach instantly bounces back to its proper place. “Well that’s wonderful news! I still want to thank her for sharing her husband. I know all this tutoring must be an inconvenience for her. I was thinking of getting her chocolates and flowers. Does that sound like a good idea?”

Shaking his head Mr. Jeong runs a stressful hand through his hair. “No. It doesn’t. She won’t get them.”

“Why won’t she?”

“She left. She’s gone. Don’t ever bring her up in front of Johnny or Lily.”

Gasping you cover your mouth with your hands. “Sh-She died?!”

Sighing, Mr. Jeong grabs your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours he leads you straight to the student center. The stares that you receive inside the Mathematics building has now tripled. Mr. Jeong’s eyes glaring ahead making everyone part way as if he were Moses and they the Red Sea. Looking down at your hands intertwined with his, your heart skips a beat. This was inappropriate, especially on campus. If someone saw you and asked you what the hell was with the hand holding how would you explain it?

Trying to tug your hand away from his he holds onto you tighter. Glancing back at you for a second, brows furrowed and his lips in the tightest line they all but disappeared. He was in no mood for you to try to escape. Letting go of the possibility of walking next to him you get tugged along like an insolent child. 

Straight into the Student Center you’re taken into the elevator where he keeps a firm hold of your hand. Only when the elevator reaches the third floor does he let go — his peers and other campus staff becoming visible. Greeting everyone whom he sees cheerfully he takes you back to his office. Opening the door he tells you to have a seat at the available chair in front of his desk. Quickly sitting you hold your backpack against your chest terrified of what he’s going to say to you. He takes a seat exhaling deeply, eyes and face looking exhausted. 

“You don’t have to look so scared.” He slides into his desk facing you.

“You looked like you were going to yell at me any second while you dragged me across campus.”

“I’m sorry about that. I just needed to get you to a quiet secluded place before I continued our conversation.”

“Why did it need to be quiet and secluded?”

“The whole campus doesn’t need to know about my best friend’s problems. Plus, you know people around here. Whether they have the whole story or not what they hear they talk about. Now, what I’m going to tell you needs to stay between the two of us. I will know if you tell anyone because no one and I repeat no one knows Johnny, and no one knows what is going on in his life. So if I hear his name or his daughter’s name and what is going on I will fail you!”

“Isn’t that blackmail?” You tilt your head. “Also, I’m pretty sure you can’t fail me without a legitimate reason.” Mr. Jeong stares at you blankly. He really wasn’t in the mood for lighthearted jokes. “I’m sorry. I understand.”

“Johnny and Lily were left behind by his wife and her mother. One night while he was in his study she packed a bag and left without telling him where she would was going and for how long. It was right after Lily’s third birthday. She’s now five. They haven’t heard a word from her for over two years. He’s sensitive when it comes to her. 

“If you think he’s married it means he still has his wedding band on. For the last year he’s told me he’s done with her. He’s done waiting and that he doesn’t want to see or hear from her ever again, but if you saw that he still has his ring on — that means he’s still holding onto the hope that she’ll come back. Lily doesn’t remember her mom that much, but she does ask about her. If she asks you don’t tell her anything. Johnny’s told her that she is sick and in a special hospital.”

“Why doesn’t he tell her the truth?”

“She’s five. She wouldn’t understand.”

“Still, when she gets older and the ‘mom is sick and in the hospital’ story stops working what will he do then? Tell his daughter that her father is a liar. So not only did her mother ditch her but now her father is a liar.”

He shakes his head sighing. “You’re young, you don’t understand.”

“Mr. Jeong, I may be young, but I’m not stupid. My father has kept me a secret from his entire family. Apparently their super religious who at the time that he ran away were two seconds from joining a cult. He told me right away when I was old enough to understand why I couldn’t see his family. I’ve only grown up with my mom’s side. 

“For years they had to repeat the story until it sunk in, but they were honest. If I had questions they let me ask them no matter how many times they had to answer the same questions. Lily is young now, but she is five years old. What will Mr. Suh do when she realizes that her father can’t keep telling her that mommy is in the hospital and him not taking her to see her once. She’s going to realize that.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your family,” Mr. Jeong looks at you bewildered. “I understand your point, but she’s his daughter.”

Mr. Jeong was right. Neither he or you or anyone else had the right to tell Mr. Suh how to raise his own child. He knows what’s best for her. If he thinks she’s still too young to understand it is in her best interest to keep things a secret. Plus, his wife may one day come back into her life. It probably is better for her to be left in the dark for now.

“Do you believe she’ll ever come back?”

“I hope she doesn’t. He’s my best friend. I watched a man who was living out his dream life with the woman he loves come crashing down to earth without a parachute. All because of her selfishness. So, no. I don’t want her back. She’ll only hurt him and leave him again when things get tough.”

“Being a wife and mother was too much for her?”

“No one knows. She never talked to anyone at all about what she was going through. Not even Johnny.” 

“Do you think Lily would like some flowers and chocolates then?” A smile comes to your face. “I have been borrowing her dad for the past three weeks. I feel terrible for taking up so much of his time.”

Leaning back in his chair, Mr. Jeong smiles sweetly. Dimples on full view, eyes sparkling with something you can’t quite pinpoint. “I think she would love that.”

“Okay. I’ll be sure to head out and get some goodies for her before I go over to his house today. Now, about my grades…”

When lunch came around you sent a photo of your grade with a text saying that Mr. Jeong was very proud of you. Putting your phone up to charge you head off to take a small nap before you go out and look for some flowers and chocolates for Lily, and even something for Mr. Suh to show your appreciation.

Now knowing why you haven’t seen his wife you can’t help but wonder why she left in the first place. Their home is beautiful, Lily from the small glances you’ve seen of her before she scurries away — apparently still cautious of you, is a lovely child and she’s cute as a button! Mr. Suh is, well, delectable, so why did she leave?

Trying not to dwell too much on Mrs. Suh’s absence, you head off to dreamland hoping to get some rest before another grueling day of studying. But, instead of getting a decent rest, your brain apparently concocted a very intense and wet dream. Starring none other than Mr. Suh.

It started out like a normal tutoring session. You were trying your best to solve a problem, but kept messing up. Mr. Suh in his usual lounge wear, a loose fitted shirt — exposing just enough of his chest to have you drooling, leans over to you giving you a chance to be wrapped in the heavenly aroma of his cologne. As he helps you to solve the problem you can feel his breath tickling your neck. His lips feel so close that you swear he presses them against your skin, but he never laid a hand on you. 

Once he was finished explaining he waited patiently until you finished. Eyes watching you carefully, roaming up and down your face when you meet his gaze. His irises seemed darker, pupils dilated, and mouth ajar as he bit his pen gently between his beautiful white teeth. 

Feeling shy you get back to your work when a hand on your thigh makes you look up, only to meet Mr. Suh’s lips. A whimper escapes you. His large strong hands cupping your face keeping you close to him. Lips smacking against each other’s, you melted into the kiss and his touch. One hand traveling down your body until it reaches your waist. Gripping you tightly he pulls you over to him. Half your body dangling over his lap. 

“Sit on my lap.” He tells you between kisses. “I want to feel you on top of me.”

As you clammer to your feet going to straddle him your alarm blared loudly before you had a chance to finish the dream. Sitting up in your bed, body sticky with sweat, you opt to take a quick shower and change into more comfortable clothes. A nice cold shower should get your mind out of the gutter. 

Once fully dried and and no longer thinking of fucking your tutor, you change into a pair of distressed blue denim jeans and a loose gray hoodie before grabbing your phone, keys, purse, and backpack to head out and get Lily and Mr. Suh something special. On your way out your door you hear a ding from your phone. 

Great job! 

I’m so proud of you and I hope you’re proud of yourself too! I’m thinking something special should be done to commemorate this momentous occasion.  We’ll need to think of something together. See you later. J. Suh

You can’t help the bright smile spreading across your face as you merrily skip down the hallway to the staircase. Feeling like you just won the lottery you truly feel proud of yourself. Both Mr. Suh and Mr. Jeong, praising you for your efforts. There was no doubt in your mind. You have to find something nice to thank Mr. Suh for everything that he’s done.

Thanks to Mr. Jeong you knew which kind of chocolates to get Lily and what kind of flowers were her favorite. The Best Uncle of the Year, his words exactly, coming in handy with loads of information. It didn’t take long to shop around for Lily, but what the Best Friend of the Year, another term he boldly stated, didn’t do was help you with Mr. Suh. Stating clearly, ‘he’ll be appreciative of anything you get him.’ 

So, you decided to get him some flowers too, a small assortment, and some chocolates of his very own. Fancier chocolates that your parents love to nibble on every now and then. Men like chocolate too, you assert in your mind. 

Driving over to Mr. Suh’s you can’t help but feel antsy. Feeling nervous about interacting with Lily makes your stomach churn painfully. She’s made sure to keep her distance from you. Eyeing you skeptically whenever she does grace you with her presence. Time and time again, Mr. Suh tries to get her to say hi to you properly but to no avail.

This doesn’t help solidify your dream job of being an Elementary teacher. Especially when an Elementary school aged child wants nothing to do with you. 

Pulling up to Mr. Suh’s house you see his car in the driveway. Your heart starts beating faster as you gather everything — putting your purse safely in the trunk since you won’t be needing it inside his house. Trying your best to hold the two small bouquets, you duck walk up to the front door. Before you can even ring the bell, Mr. Suh opens it with a bright smile on his face.

“Welcom—” he stops staring at you. “What in the world…”

“Uh, I uh,” you fiddangle the bouquets holding the one out for him. “I wanted to say thank you for helping me. Without your help I would never have gotten that C and I would probably be swimming in a sea of failure rethinking my life choices and career right now. So, I uh, just got these to say thank you. Ummm.. th-thank you!” 

Blinking, he bounces from your face then to the flowers. Not making any attempt at reaching for them. Just like on the first day, a single strand of sweat trickles down the side of your face. This was a terrible idea. A card would have sufficed. A thank you for tolerating my dumbass for the past three weeks card and maybe a gift card to a restaurant. But no, you didn’t think of that. 

Lowering the bouquet you turn in the direction of the trash can that was sitting out by the curb for tomorrow. “Th-This was stupid, huh?” Your face starts burning up. “I-I’ll just dispose of these.” 

Turning around you head down the two steps to the pathway leading down to the driveway. Halfway down the path you're whipped around and wrapped in a tight hug. The flowers becoming squished in the process. Looking up at the person engulfing you in a constrictor hug you find Mr. Suh. Becoming stiff as a statue you glance around wondering if this is your mind playing tricks on you or if it is indeed real. After that dream you had this surely couldn’t be real. 

“Don’t throw them out,” he whispers, holding you even tighter. 

“O-Okay,” you murmur, body starting to relax. “S-So you like them?”

Chuckling he pulls away from you enough to look down into your eyes. “I love them. It was very thoughtful of you.”

Managing to shove them higher you put on a bright smile. “Well, then these are for you Mr. Suh! I also bought you some chocolates. My mom and dad like these. I always get it for them for their anni —” you stop yourself. “Sp-Special occasions. Or when I want something from them.” You turn your almost blunder into a joke. “I also have some flowers and chocolates for Lily. Mr. Jeong told me what her favorites are.”

Again you’re wrapped into a tight embrace. Mr. Suh’s body hunching over until his face is buried in your neck. “Thank you,” he pulls you close to him. “Thank you.”

Proud of yourself for the second time today you wrap your arms around your tutor. How long has it been since someone other than family or Mr. Jeong showed him kindness? How long has it been since they thought to do something for him and his daughter? Hearing a sniff your ears perk up. 

“Mr. Suh?”

Stepping away from you he quickly wipes his eyes. “Ahh, that’s embarrassing,” he chuckles. “Don’t worry about me. It’s just been a while.”

“Daddy?” A small voice comes from the door. “Daddy!”

“What is it sweetheart?” He quickly leaves your side rushing over to Lily. 

Taking in a huge breath holding it in as you make your approach to the Princess of the mansion. You get down on your haunches and show her the bouquet of flowers.

“Hi Lily, we haven’t really met each other yet.” She goes behind Mr. Suh looking around his legs at you. Introducing yourself, you reach out the flowers towards her. “A little birdie told me that your favorite flowers are Tiger Lilies. Is this true?”

The moment she looks down at the flowers her little eyes light up. Slowly letting go of Mr. Suh’s legs, she comes in front of you. Looking up at her dad he laughs happily.

“They’re for you, sweetheart,” he pats her head.

Reaching out she takes the bouquet smelling each flower her tiny nose can reach. “I love these,” she wraps her arms around the flowers.

“I also heard you like Snickers,” you pull out some candy for her. 

Again her eyes light up. “I love them too!!” She squeals while taking the chocolate. “Daddy look!”

“I see. Now what do we say when we receive a gift?”

“Thank you!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Go on inside and we’ll put these flowers in some water,” he shoos Lily inside. 

“Okay!”

Running off she leaves the two of you alone. Standing back up, you can’t help but smile lovingly at the little girl. She really is cute. 

“Thank you for this,” Mr. Suh calls you to attention. “I haven’t seen her this happy in a while. It really means a lot to me.”

“Well, I just figured I should surprise her and give her something because I am borrowing her dad. I know you’d rather spend your time with your daughter and relaxing after work, but because of me you can’t do that for a while.” 

“It’s not all bad,” he walks into his home and you follow. “Having you around these last three weeks has been fun.”

“Liar.” 

Mr. Suh lets out a hardy laugh while you both head into the kitchen. Sitting your bag down at the table like usual you watch him and his daughter put the flowers you gave them in some water. Then, Mr. Suh giving Lily some of her candy you brought her. But what shocked you is when she came running up to you with her arms open wide.

“I love my presents! Thank you!” She hugs you. Stunned you barely have time to hug her back before she lets you go running off to play. 

“Wow…” you look back at Mr. Suh. “I thought she hated me.”

“No way! She’s been curious about you. She asks me questions most nights before she goes to sleep.”

“She does?” Shocked, you stare in the direction she left in.

“Yes,” Mr. Suh sits down with a cup of coffee and he ever so politely brings you one as well. “She’s very cautious. We don’t have many visitors. Most of the family is a good distance away from us.” He takes a sip, his body relaxing. “The only time we see them is during the holiday’s. Shame really. She has cousins around her age but she barely gets to spend time with them.”

“Have you ever thought of moving?”

What the hell are you saying?! You curse yourself. 

“I have but this is the only home she knows. Plus,” he fiddles with his wedding band. “I’m still holding out for something.”

Staring down at his ringed finger fire burns inside of you. How can a woman be so selfish to leave the man she loved hanging by a thread? If she wanted to leave, okay. But you just don’t up and leave and never come back and don’t officially break things off! That is cowardly and selfish! 

“Anytime Lily wants to hang out, I’m available,” you try to bring the subject back to something lighter. “I think as long as I give her candy I’ll be on her good side, right?” 

“Bribery, already?” He looks stunned. “You’re not even a teacher yet and you’re resorting to such tactics.”

Stunned, you stare at him with wide eyes. “A-A teacher? How did you know?”

“Jaehyun. The course he’s teaching is for Education majors, is it not?”

“Right,” you scratch the back of your neck. “Forgot about that. Oh! Mr. Jeong said he may owe you one or two beers for helping me. Make sure he keeps that promise!”

Pulling out your holy binder of math, you get things ready for today's lesson.

“Actually,” Mr. Suh places his hand on top of yours. “Why don’t we skip today’s lesson? We should celebrate your accomplishment.”

“Accomplishment? I got a C-, that means ‘C better luck next time.’”

Laughing, Mr. Suh shakes his head. “Well I see it as ‘C, she can be taught.’ So, listen to your tutor. We’re taking a break today.”

“A break...” You nod sitting back in the chair. “O-Oh! A break! I’m sorry! You probably have something planned for Lily!” Quickly you start packing your backpack. “I’m sorry, I should have read between the lines. I’ll hurry up so you two can spend the evening together.”

“Stop!” Mr. Suh’s voice booms in your ears, startling you. “Like I said earlier, we need to celebrate your accomplishment.” Standing up, he starts to walk away. “Come, follow me.” 

Gulping, your palms turning sweaty you ring them on your jeans before standing up. Mr. Suh leads you back into the living room and this time you have a chance to really look around. Everything was immaculate. White carpet with white furniture. A black stoned fireplace. A large flat screen tv sitting above it. A few plants in the corners of the room and a couple on the coffee table and end tables. Something you would see out of a magazine. Not really a homey touch. Something that seems to fit his style more so than a style that suits a home with a little girl. 

Leaving the living room you’re taken down a corridor to a room where he opens the door with a key. Placing the key back into his pocket your heart starts to beat faster. What in the world could he be hiding? A room that needs to be locked! Thinking back on the movie Fifty Shades of Grey you slowly start to back away. Afraid that Mr. Suh has some weird fetish that he’s about to unleash on you — however, you’re taken aback when the room turns out to be a normal study. 

Slumping forward your heart slows down. Thank goodness…

“It’ll just be a small glass,” he holds the door open for you. “I thought we could celebrate with some wine. You’re old enough to drink, right?”

Glaring you turn to his direction. “I’ve been able to drink for a while now, Mr. Suh. Do I really look that young?”

Chuckling he goes into a cabinet taking out two wine glasses. “You do actually. You still have that ‘the world is my oyster’ glow about you. Go on, pick one.”

“I don’t know wines. I know beer but not wine.”

Snorting he shakes his head. “College days,” he grabs a bottle of red wine pouring you a smaller glass than himself. “You’ll learn when you’re older.”

“You’re not that much older, Mr. Suh. And yet you speak like you’re well into your forties.”

Sitting down on the couch in his study he lets out a huge tired sigh. “Some days it feels like I’m pushing fifty.”

Joining him at the opposite end making sure you don’t intrude on his space you take a small sip. The taste making you cringe slightly but it was smoothe going down. The last wine you had was like drinking tanbark — woody with a dryness of a desert. This held a tinge of sweetness.

“What’s it like to be a dad?” 

“Pardon?” He looks at you surprised. 

“Sorry for the sudden question,” you giggle realizing it was really an out of the blue question. “I just mean, Lily is awfully cute. I don’t have any friends who are already parents. I know personally I want three kids one day. A boy, a girl, and then to adopt or foster a child. That’s been my goal since I was a kid. Perhaps I should have asked, what’s it like to be a parent?”

“Hard.” He stirs the liquid in his glass. “People who don’t have children see the good and bad moments. When the child is well behaved or is so cute you can’t help but fall in love. You want a child right then and there. Vow to the world and everyone around you that you want a houseful of them. 

“Then, there are times when no matter what, you can’t get your kid to stop crying. Or, they misbehave and you don’t know what to do and how to correct the behavior. They scream and throw things and have tantrums in public and it’s embarrassing. People blame the parents right away saying they need to do better. That’s the hard part. People assume you’re not doing a good job but you’re doing the best you can. What works with one child doesn’t work with the other. You can’t use blueprints for a museum to build a shed. 

“So you need to rethink your game plan and just when you think you have everything figured out, BOOM!” He shouts startling you. “Your kid changes the game. But I wouldn’t want to think of a world where Lily isn’t in it. She’s the best thing that has ever happened to me. She’ll always be the best thing that’s happened to me. She’s taught me how to love someone unconditionally. To know that if she is in trouble I will willingly throw my life away to protect her. The moment I held her in my arms for the first time was the moment I knew I would and will die for her.”

“Wow…that was…beautiful.” 

Mr. Suh turns to you to see you looking at him in awe. Snickering he takes a sip of his wine, a light flush coming to his cheeks. “You’ll know how it feels when you become a mother.”

“I hope I will. And what about being a teacher?”

Smirking, he slides down on the couch. “The first year is hard. The second year is still hard but you sort of know what to expect. By your third year you’ll be a pro. It’s a job that not everyone can do but those who do it know how amazing it truly is. Oh, a piece of advice — keep your lesson plans for five years at a time. That’s what one of my professors told me. After five years redo them. That way it’s one less thing you have to worry about. Creating lesson plans is a pain, so anyway you can relieve that will always be beneficial for you.” Nodding you keep this tidbit of advice locked in your memory. “Pray tell, why did you choose the teaching profession?”

Shrugging you take a sip of your wine. “I’ve always loved school. I like being in school and learning. I would help out any chance I could get. I was even able to leave and help out the other school staff since I got done with my work quickly. When I was in High School a couple teachers said I’d make the perfect teacher so I listened to them and here I am. Failing miserably���”

“You’re not failing miserably. You’re just failing right now.”

You roll your eyes. “Geez…thanks, Mr. Suh.”

Laughing he places his glass on the end table closest to him before shifting closer to you. “From now on you can call me Johnny.”

“You too? Man you and Mr. Jeong really are cut from the same cloth.”

“What about Jaehyun?”

“He wanted me to call him by his first name too. I mean yeah I’ve spoken to him a few times because of this whole tutoring thing but not enough to feel comfortable calling him by his first name. Plus, it would cross the lines of the student teacher dynamic.”

“Maybe he wants you to feel comfortable around him.” Mr. Suh peers down at you. 

Snorting, you take another small sip of your wine. “If he wants me to feel comfortable he needs to stop making everywhere he goes look like he’s on a runway.”

Cracking up Mr. Suh places a hand on your knee to hold himself up. The small gesture making your body numb with hope that he won’t remove his hand too soon. Visions of your dream springing to life in your mind. How he wanted you to sit on his lap. How you were seconds from kissing him. Gulping you see him wiping his eyes. 

“So he still hasn’t broken that habit?”

“Habit?”

“Back when we were in college, Jaehyun was the ‘it boy,’ on campus. All the girls wanted him. It was crazy. He never paid them any mind but he was aware of the magnetism he held. He started running a hand through his hair and would hear girls screaming their heads off. He’d bite his lip, smirk, and show his dimples — all to give them just a taste of attention, but he would never go further than that.”

Leaning closer to Mr. Suh you ask him a question you never thought you’d ask. “Is Mr. Jeong…you know…into guys?”

Staring flabbergasted, Mr. Suh pushes your forehead back with his index finger. “I would never bring up men around Jaehyun again. No. Believe me. He has no interest in men.” Mr. Suh looks you up and down for a second before chugging the rest of his wine. “Trust me.”

“Sorry if I was offensive. It’s just the way you were talking made it seem like he was teasing people because he knew they would never have his heart.”

“That’s exactly what he did. But not because he’s gay. Jaehyun,” he sighs. “He’s a strange man. One second he seems head over heels for someone, the next, he’s flirting with someone else. I think the prospect of settling down with someone scares him. So he gives them an inch and hopes they don’t take a mile. But they always do and he leaves them.”

“So, Mr. Jeong is scared to be in a relationship?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Wow, I feel bad for him.”

Chuckling, Mr. Suh sits back intrigued. “Since we’re talking openly for once. What about you, my dear student? Any boys you’re interested in? Or should I ask about girls too?” He winks.

“Guys. That’s it for me.” Your face starts to warm. “There is one person…” you fiddle with your fingers. “They’re super smart, handsome, kind, and I don’t know…I just love being around them. I still have a lot to learn but I’m hoping one day I’ll be given the chance to get to know them better.”

“Anyone I know?” He nudges you, winking.

“E-Eh?!” 

Fear quickens your heartbeat. You tried to be as vague as humanly possible. There is no way that he can tell you’re talking about him. Handsome, smart, kind — qualities that can describe half of the world! No way in hell could he narrow it down to himself. 

“Come now, you can tell me. It’s Jaehyun, isn’t it?”

“Wh-What?!” You squeak.

“Everyone falls for him. It’s a natural thing. No need to be shy about it.”

“Mr. Suh, really I —”

“Johnny.” He corrects.

“J-John…Mr. Suh!”

“Come on, it’s not that hard. John…ny…” he says his name slowly.

“I’m not an imbecile!” You put down your glass. “And I don’t have feelings for Mr. Jeong! The person I was talking about was you —” freezing you try to come up with a different response. “You…you’ll never know! A woman’s heart is a land of mystery. It’s a secret!”

Mr. Suh stares at you. Eyes scanning over your features. Hoping that your trembling body won’t catch his attention. How could you have been so stupid? You are an imbecile! You almost let it slip that you have feelings for your tutor! Hell you don’t even know what kind of feelings you have for him. Lust? Hell yeah. Infatuation? Definitely! Pity? Only for Lily. Like? S-Sure... 

Turning away from his gaze you wipe your hands on your jeans. “I’m sorry for shouting. You’ve been kind to me this entire time. I owe everything to you. I just got…defensive…”

“No. I should apologize. I didn’t intend to press you to that point. But I have to ask,” he moves closer to you, his hand gently resting under your chin. Turning your head to face him he stares deep into your eyes. “Is this secret person…me?”

Sitting in the passenger seat you stare out the window. Mr. Suh sent you a message on Friday that stated Lily was sick and he needed to take care of her so tutoring was off, but to come on Saturday, today, which you’re not particularly excited for. The unbeknownst blessing of not having lessons yesterday was that your car was in the shop and there was no one to take you to your lesson. 

Granted, the garage still hasn't looked at your car yet, promising to have it done by tomorrow around lunch — Doyoung has offered to drive you to Mr. Suh’s since Jen has practice. Sighing, you rest your head against the window.

“What’s up with you? Thought this tutor of yours was helping you.”

“He is. I actually got a passing grade last time.” 

“Then what’s the problem?”

“Have you ever met someone that you’ve instantly liked? You may not know them but there is this undying attraction to them?”

“He’s hot isn't he?” Doyoung snickers. 

“Yes. Like just my type. He’s tall, muscular but not overly buff, he has the cutest lips. Like they remind me of a cat and he’s gentle and sweet. You should see him with his daughter and —”

“Hold up!” Doyoung slows down at the red light before glancing your way. “He’s a dad?”

“Yeah. His daughter's name is Lily and she’s so cute!”

“No.”

“No?”

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop.”

“What if I’m not thinking about anything?”

“I’ve known you our whole lives. You don’t just randomly bring up the topic of liking someone without reason. If he has a child he isn’t someone you need to worry about.”

“Why not?”

“He needs to focus on raising his kid, not getting his dick wet.” He says bluntly. 

Turning to him, shocked by his choice of words Doyoung just shrugs as he proceeds forward. “Did you have to say that?!”

“You’re blushing aren’t you? How many dreams have you had about fucking him?”

“None!” You shriek but then start mumbling. “I always wake up before the good stuff.”

“Why would you put yourself through this? He’s a father. He’s your tutor. Once the semester is done and over with you won’t see him again. He’s older and you’re still in college. Why?”

“Because…because…” you sigh, turning back to the window. “I don’t know.”

“Does he know?”

Groaning, you bang your head against the window, “yeah...”

“How did he find out?”

Staring out into the traffic you drift back to that evening in Mr. Suh’s study…

‘Turning your head to face him he stares deep into your eyes. “Is this secret person…me?’

“Wh-What?! Mr. Suh…” you turn from him, your face growing warmer. “Wh-What makes you ask that kind of question? You’re my tutor…”

“Because on the first day you clearly told someone you thought I was hot.” He says matter of factly. 

“Eh?! S-S-So you did look at my phone!”

“I had to look at it to turn it off. And yes, the message in very large print clearly stated that your friend wanted a picture.”

“Sh-She was just joking! I swear! She’s very blunt.”

“So the message you sent was in regards to me being hot?” He quirks a brow. 

“No! I mean…yes…I mean…”

Moving away from you Mr. Suh runs a hand through his hair. “It’s best for you not to like me.”

Feeling a sharp pain hit your heart you look at him as if someone told you your dog passed away. Bewildered. Heartbroken. “Wh-Why?” You attempt to ask firmly but the quivering in your jaw prevents you. 

Chuckling he crosses his long legs. Arms settling across his chest. “I’m married.” He holds up his ring finger. “No point in crushing on a married man. Plus, I have a child. I don’t have the time or energy to deal with a small infatuation.”

A small infatuation?! Glaring at him he looks completely disinterested in your unwilling confession. What you feel is not a small infatuation! It’s not puppy love or displaced affection! And for him to sit here nonchalantly like your presence annoys him…you could just…just…

Pushing yourself to your feet you march in front of him. He’s married? Ha! If only he knew that you knew his wife left not only him but his daughter. Over her, he’s still holding onto some kind of hope! Why would he do that?! She left him! She’s gone, most likely never to come back! Holding on to hope will only hurt him in the end and Lily! And his daughter…so what?! All of this is a means of deflecting!

“It’s not a small infatuation. I’m not a teenager. I know what and how I am feeling. Yes, I sent a text message to my friend saying that you were hot. If you haven’t noticed at all, you’re incredibly hot! The hottest man I’ve ever seen! Not once did I feel any amount of attraction to anyone I’ve been in school with, that is until you came along! Do you think I wanted to have a crush on my tutor? Do you know how hard it is to focus sometimes?

“Also, I clearly noted the wedding ring on your finger. But I’m also aware that —” you pause. “I’m…” Calm down…breathe… Taking a huge inhale you let the air fill your lungs. Simmering down the anger that was building up inside you. “I’m also aware that just because you’re married doesn’t mean you can’t have feelings for someone else. Sadly we’re not a species that has only one love for the rest of our life. I believe only a couple of species on the planet are like that.”

“So what do you suggest?” Mr. Suh reaches up grabbing your wrists. “You want me to cheat on my wife?” He yanks you down. Your body falling on top of his. “Is that what you want me to do?” He grabs your legs and easily moves you so you’re straddling his lap. 

“Wh-What are you doing?” You try to move away from him but he holds you firmly in his arms. 

Pressing his lips against your ear — unfortunately sending shivers down your spine and a spark of fire to your core he firmly states, “answer the question.”

“N-No…”

“No, you don’t want to answer the question or no, you don’t want me to cheat?”

“Both!”

Arms falling to the couch he allows you to crawl off of him. Moving as far away from him as possible you wait until your heart calms down. The moment you waited for. The moment you’ve fantasized about did not pan out how you truly wanted it to. You were mere seconds from telling him you knew about his wife. The only way you could have known is from Mr. Jeong, and by no means we’re you going to get him in trouble.

“I think I should go.” You get up heading for the door. “Forget I even mentioned anything.”

“Wait!” Stopping as your feet barely cross over the threshold you glance over your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” Mr. Suh apologizes with his head low to his chest. “I-I didn’t mean…”

“Wh-What?” You turn completely to look at him. Hands interlaced together tightly. Knuckles turning white as snow. His hair hanging over his eyes making him look more apologetic. More ashamed… “M-Mr. Suh?” You call gently. 

His hands unclasp, one reaching up to wipe his eyes. Without thinking you spring over to him. Startling him as you push his shoulders back until they’re resting on the back of the couch — eyes red and tear stained. Straddling his lap you plant a gentle kiss on his lips. His body freezes beneath you but you pay it no mind. This is what you’ve wanted. To feel what it would be like to kiss him. To feel his body pressed against yours. 

Leaving soft comforting kiss after kiss, his hands find purchase on your waist. Slowly he starts to kiss you back. His lips moving along with yours tentatively. Unsure and if this is right. But when a groan coming from the back of his throat pierces your ears you kiss him deeper. Opening your mouth for his tongue to enter. 

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to grow steamy. Your body burning up from the inside out. Stomach churning to the sounds coming from your tutor. Low growls that tell you he’s holding back with all his might. Wanting to feel all of him you take matters into your own hands. As his tongue slips into your mouth you quickly wrap your lips around it, sucking on the wet slippery muscle. Giving him a taste of what it would be like on another part of his body. His hands grip your waist tightly. Eyes closed shut. Brows furrowed while you work your magic. His face, his expressions, the noises he’s making driving you forward to do more. Much much more.

With one final loud suck of his tongue you pull back. Chest heaving heavily you attack his neck. Biting, nipping, kissing and sucking on the taught flesh. Grazing your tongue across his Adam’s apple has him pushing you onto your back. Now hovering over you he stares down at you with wild eyes. Pupils dilated and filled with lust. 

“Kiss me, please…” you beg for him with your arms wide open. 

Gulping loudly Mr. Suh lowers himself to you. His chest sliding up yours making you squirm beneath him. His lips skate over yours, a whisper of a kiss to the corner of your mouth. Whimper after whimper comes from you. Never before have you been this desperate to feel someone’s lips on yours. To feel their body on top of you — pressing you into a couch until you can’t escape. 

“You’re so beauti —”

“Daddy!!” Lily calls out for him. “Daddy!!”

In a matter of seconds Mr. Suh is off of you. Back pressed against the arm of the couch from the opposite end. Hair mused. Chest rising and falling rapidly and a rather noticeable…you look away from his lap. 

“Y-You need to leave!” He scrambles to his feet.

“Daddy!” Lily cries out. 

“Coming!” He says frantically.

“Mr. Suh, I…”

“Just leave!” He shouts before leaving his study in a hurry. “Lily! Sweetheart, what’s wrong?!”

“He saw a text I sent to Jen about him being hot. Didn’t take much to know I was into him,” you tell Doyoung leaving out the sorted details. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I would run away and avoid him but I kind of need his help in order to pass.” Turning to your friend with a somber face you try your best to smile but a single tear slides down your cheek. “So I’m going to pass and put him behind me after this semester.”

Reaching over, Doyoung places his hand in yours. “I’m sorry, kid.” 

“Me too.” You wipe your eye. 

Within five minutes you were in front of Mr. Suh’s house. Doyoung whistling the moment he sees the place. Asking if you wanted him to walk you to the door for extra support you declined the offer. Telling him to be here at 6PM or at least to have his cell on hand if you should need to call him for an earlier pick up, he reassures you that he’ll be close by. 

As you make your way up to the house Doyoung calls your name. Turning to look back you’re engulfed in his arms. “I know this is going to be hard but please stay strong, okay?” He asks you.

Nodding and giving into the sweetest, softest hug known to mankind you melt into him. “I will.”

“If you need ANYTHING, call me or text me. I’ll be over here ASAP. Got it?”

“Mmm…” you nod. 

“See you soon.”

“See you soon, and thank you!” You shout, waving your hand. 

Waving back, Doyoung gets into his car and drives off down the road. Turning back to the house you find Mr. Suh at the door. Eyes dark and unreadable. Walking up to him his aura is different. Then again, the hot makeout session the other day could be the reason. 

“You’re late.” He says as you pass by him.

“I needed a ride. Sorry.” You head straight for the kitchen. “Oh. Before I forget.” You pull out a small bag with some chicken noodle soup in it and orange juice. “For Lily.”

“She’s fine.” He brushes past you without taking the bag. 

“I see.” Leaving the bag on the counter near the kitchen sink you take your seat. “I’ve already done the homework.” You take out your binder. 

“Hand it to me.”

Doing as instructed you wait for Mr. Suh to check your work. His hand scribbles down where you’ve made mistakes. Of course there were mistakes. You haven’t been able to get the kiss you had with him out of your mind. Even in your sleep you feel his lips and hands on you. Taking out your textbook you open up to the chapter Mr. Jeong went over yesterday to distract yourself.

“What is this mess?” Mr. Suh breaks you out of your thoughts. “This!” He shoves your homework up to your face where all you see are red markings. “This is unacceptable!”

“Sorry.” You look down. 

“What happened? You should have been able to get past this with flying colors?” Shrugging you avoid looking at him. “Answer me!”

“I don’t know what happened!”

“Did you double check your work? Did you read the questions carefully?!”

“I thought I did.”

“Well thinking wasn’t on your side now was it?!” He snarls.

“Look!” You shout. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to get them all wrong! I’m sorry I’m too stupid to understand this! Why do I need to learn this anyway?! I want to teach Kindergarten! I want to have fun and watch them learn their alphabet and numbers. Why do I need to learn all this other stuff?!” Tears start pouring down your face. 

“Because you don’t know what grade you will be assigned to! That’s why! So enough with the tears and pay attention!”

“Why are you being so mean?” You sniff. 

He goes quiet, his body rigged. Ever since you walked up to him he’s been a real asshole for no reason at all. Yes, you got questions wrong — knowing it’s only because the kiss that you can’t get out of your mind being the main culprit behind the insurmountable amount of red ink on your homework. But this, this behavior because you got answers wrong is not that the Johnny… Mr. Suh, that you know. 

Turning his head from you he lets out a huge exhale. “Because being nice to you ended up with us…” he stops himself before proceeding with the real reason he’s in a shitty mood.

“So that constitutes you being mean to me instead?!” Taking out your phone which you had on mute you start to type out an S.O.S to Doyoung.

“No phones!” He grabs your phone. “I told you this already. Are you having a hard time following simple rules?!”

“I was telling my friend to pick me up! Give me my phone!”

“What?! I cleared my schedule to help you and you’re going to leave? You’re here to learn so that’s what you’re going to do. Now sit down and listen to me young lady!”

“No! You’re not my father and you’re not my teacher!” You challenge by packing up your belongings.

“I said sit down!” He stands up his body looming over you threateningly. 

“No!” You tremble in rage. “Give me my phone…back!!”

“So you can contact that boyfriend of yours?”

Your arms fly from your sides exasperated. “Boyfriend?!” 

“Yes. The boy glaring daggers at me!”

“Glare? What glare?! Are you talking about Doyoung?! He’s my best friend. I’ve known him my whole life! W-Wait…are you…jealous?!”

Quickly Mr. Suh’s demeanor changes from hostile tutor to blubbering idiot. “J-Jealous?! Wh-What?! That’s absurd!”

“If you’re not jealous you’ll give me back my phone,” you hold out your hand.

“I’m not jealous and you’re not getting your phone back. You’re here to learn!”

“Give me my phone!”

“No! Now sit down.” Ignoring his order you zip up your now full again backpack and hurl it over your shoulders. “Wh-What are you doing?!”

“Leaving.”

“You can’t leave!”

“I’m my own person. I’m free to go wherever I please.”

“If you leave I won’t tutor you anymore!” He threatens.

“Fine with me.” You continue to pack your things.

“Y-You’ll fail!”

“Guess I will.”

“You can’t be serious.” You ignore him as you head out of the kitchen. “Y-Yah!!” He chases after you. “Are you stupid?!”

“Already told you I was the first day we met.”

“Stop this!” He grabs your wrist. Halting in front of him you don’t bother turning around. “Fine. Take it.” He growls, placing your phone in your hand. “There. Now will you stay?”

“No.” You click send and head to the front door.

“What?! I gave you back your phone!”

“So?” You smirk. “You think that means that I’ll stay here? I’m not going to deal with someone who has an attitude problem. It doesn’t help me at all.”

“I don’t have an attitude problem.”

“Uh, yeah, you do.”

“I don’t!”

“From the moment I walked inside you’ve been cross with me. Why? Is it because we kissed the other day? Is it because Lily is sick and you’re tired? Or is it because you saw me hugging someone else?” Mr. Suh looks away from you the moment you mention the hug. Shocked, you cross your arms over your chest. “No way,” you chuckle. “Don’t tell me that Mr. Suh has a wittle crush,” you say in a baby voice. “Wouldn’t that be something? Especially after all that bullshit about it being bad for me to like you.”

“Stop.” His fists clench at his sides, his body trembling as he glares at you.

“What? Is it because I’m right? Did you fall for me when I kissed you?” You press.

“I said stop!”

“Come now, do share with the class how you’re feeling,” you spread your arms open as if you’re talking to more than just Mr. Suh. Seething with rage, you peer up at him through your lashes. “Come now, Johnny.” 

A sharp pain strikes down your spine as your back makes contact with the wall closest to the door — a tiny alcove just barely big enough for you to nestle into you, no escape in sight. You gasp for air as strong hands grip both your waist and your neck, making sure that you don’t get away. Lips crash down onto yours with such force you’re sure the metallic taste in your mouth is your own blood. Teeth crash into teeth, the grip on your waist tightens — eyes getting blurry with tears as your air supply starts to run low. 

Pulling back for a seconds, Mr. Suh takes in a breath allowing you to breathe as well, only for his lips to crash down onto yours again. This kiss was anything but gentle. It’s rough and raw like he’s trying to devour your soul one kiss at a time. Stomach swirling like a tornado when he growls against your lips, a beast waiting to devour it’s prey — your knees almost give out from the hottest guttural groan you’ve ever heard a man make in your life, your thighs clenching together.  

“You’re such a brat,” he grips your waist tighter leaving out a shaky breath. 

Mr. Suh’s grip on your neck loosens as his body presses against yours, the feeling of his arousal already present. Gasping, your arms wrap around his neck drawing him closer to you. His tongue skates across your lips, begging for entrance. Parting your lips, his tongue swirls around yours fighting for dominance, which you gladly complied — mind already turning to mush at the slightest touch and kiss he presses against you.

Pulling back he leaves you with a single peck on your lips as both of your chests rapidly heave — your breath mixing with his, unknown feelings blending in with each other’s.

“I-I think you need to be taught some manners.” He says breathlessly. 

“I-I’m sorry…” you plead while your mind races for what might come if he does in fact punish you.

He snickers, his eyes cloudy and hooded, a lusftul sinister look plastered on his face. “Liar.” He squeezes your neck tighter, his eyes starting to close.

“Pl-Please…c-can’t…breathe…”

Laughing he grips your neck even harder — still not tight enough to do any real damage, but your breath still feels staggered each breath you take in. “Good!” He hisses and trails his lips over your cheek before he kisses the corner of your mouth. “You dare to argue with me in my own home then proceed to tease me!” His grip on your waist tightens while he pulls you into him, your bodies flush against each other’s. “You insolent brat!” 

Kissing you again the little air you were able to breathe is taken from you. Your body growing limp in his hold. Your mind lost to the lust that’s blazing through you like a rocket. It’s embers striking every nerve in your body — the slightest touch of his lips to yours makes you whimper, the grip of his hand on your waist growing tighter till it feels as if he’ll leave impressions has you shivering. Your lips move along with his desperately, waiting to be consumed by him to have your whole existence wrecked by a single glance from him. Whatever he wants to do to you, you’ll gladly comply. A slave to his touch you become engulfed by him. 

Like a switch going off, Mr. Suh rips you from the wall by your neck and you’re free from him. “I will never be jealous,” he rolls his neck, eyes growing dark with hunger each step he takes towards you. “That little twerp can have you only when I’m done with you.”

The powerful wolf and the meek rabbit you back away from, your hands raised in both defense and to placate him. “I-I don’t want him…”

Smirking, he continues to stalk towards you your body getting closer and closer to the couch. “Why is that?”

Your heels smack against the bottom of the couch. Trapped again you can’t go anywhere else without him catching you easily. Your body trembles, your skin covered in goosebumps. “I want you!” You say desperately reaching out to him. “Only you.”

Pushing you down onto the couch, Johnny wastes no time at all. Towering over you, his eyes so dark and full of feral lust mirroring your own, his gaze washes over you inch by inch. Stopping at your breasts, you involuntarily take a deep breath in — causing your chest to rise and Johnny’s bottom lip to be sucked between his teeth. His eyes travel lower to your stomach and then pauses for what seems like an eternity — your pelvis, his gaze lingers as sinful thoughts reel through your mind. 

What it would be like to have his tongue skate over your wet folds. What it would be like to have his fingers ramming inside of you, and the second most sinful thought of all — his dick pummeling into you without a second thought to your wellbeing. 

Possessed by desire, your legs start to spread apart, a subconscious invitation for him to come closer. To merge his body with your own. On cue, he moves forward just as your legs spread far enough for him to fit between them. One of his hands props his body up while the other touches your cheek gingerly. Your eyes start to close as you give into the soft caress. When his thumb passes over your lips you give it a small kiss. 

“Why did you have to do this to me?” 

“Why did you have to do this to me, Mr. Suh?” You throw the question back at him. It wasn’t just him that is under a spell, but yourself as well. 

Ever since you first saw him you wanted to know him, to be a part of his life. Cupid’s arrow didn’t just get you — it flew straight into your mind and scrambled your brain. The moment you saw him playing outside with his daughter, the smile on his face; the carefree aura that surrounded him sent you soaring. Entranced the moment your eyes fell on him you’ve wondered how haven’t jumped him yet.

Leaning into his touch you turn your head kissing the palm of his hand, a faint sent of lotion and soap fill your head; with a splash of your perfume. Your lips travel to his wrist and down his arm, your eyes staring him down wanting nothing more than to feel his lips over your body.

“Fuck,” he whispers. 

“Please don’t punish me, Mr. Suh…” You lick and nip at his wrist.

“Shit…” he rasps. “You’re so beautiful,” he rubs his thumb against your cheek before grabbing your chin. “But you’re a brat, and brats need to be dealt with.” 

Gulping from anticipation you feign innocence. “I-I didn’t mean it! Please!” Your mouth says forgive me but your eyes say come and get it. 

Smirking, Johnny’s hand travels from your chin down to your neck and across your décolletage slowly — making sure every touch has you inching closer and closer to him. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes~” you purr reaching up to him, pulling him down to you.

Johnny’s eyes grow darker. His grip around your neck loosening. “What do you think you’re doing?” He lowers himself onto you more until his chest is pressed against yours. “I don’t believe I gave you permission to do that.” Sighing he shakes his head. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Anything!” You choke out. 

His lips meet yours in a gentle yet chilling kiss, “be careful what you wish for.” He says in a dark husky voice. 

“You can do whatever you want to me…” you state firmly. “Anything.”

Stopping the smile that played on his lips, his hand travels down from your décolletage to just above the neckline of your low cut shirt. “Are you sure about that?”

Nodding eagerly, you stare up at him. With a swift movement Johnny has you switching positions with him; instead of standing between his legs — he pulls you on top of his lap, your legs straddling him. His hands rest just above your ass — your body sinking until you feel the bulge that is seconds from bursting through his loose fitted jeans. Wanting nothing than to grind your hips against him you withhold the urge. 

After so many nights of fantasizing about him you’re finally at the moment where your dreams can become reality. There’s no way you’re going to screw it up and push him past his comfort zone. Especially, with a burning question in the back of your mind. With the roll of his hips your body gives into the lust you’ve kept locked away. Throwing away your inhibitions you grab his cheeks into your hand and smash your lips down onto his. 

Your hips grinding into each other’s, both of you gasp for air between kisses — his grip on you tightening, holding you down against him getting out his frustration just as much as you’re chasing to release the frustration within you. Biting his bottom lip you’re desperate to taste him again. To feel his tongue swirling around yours in a forbidden dance of passion. 

Parting his lips your tongue slides into his mouth only to capture his tongue between your lips. Shifting your body higher up on his, you suck on his tongue as if it were his dick. Mr. Suh groaning, his arms going from the top of your behind to around your waist. Releasing his tongue you go back to kissing him, missing the feeling of his lips on yours. 

His mouth moves from yours and down to your chin. Angling your head back you give him access to your neck. Nipping, sucking and biting, Mr. Suh marks you, claiming ownership of your body. Moving down to the base of your neck, you melt in his hold a shiver washing over you. Smiling against your neck his lips spread and suck on a sensitive spot. Soft whimpers escape your lips — wanting to both flee from him as well as grab onto his hair to keep yourself in place to savor the delightful feeling.

Moving back from your neck Mr. Suh glances at the art piece he’s created on your body. His hold on you loosens allowing you to find purchase again on his lap both of you hissing when your clothed core brushes against his bulge. 

Wincing as your hips roll over his again, keeping his hands at your waist to steady your ministrations he confesses. “J-Just so you know, I-I’ve never done this before.” 

“Never done what before?” You ask slowing down before you work yourself up even more. 

His eyes quiver from fear, apprehension, you can’t tell. Touching his cheek you smile and give him a gentle nod of encouragement. 

“I don’t normally want to fuck my students. In fact, I’ve never wanted to do that before until —’’

“Until?” You give a faint smile.

Rolling his hips you whimper bringing your hand up to your lips shocked by the sound that passed your lips. “What do you think?” He asks.

“I never thought of you as someone who sleeps with his students. Especially, not with Lily around —” gasping you look behind you to the staircase. “I-Is she here? Shit, I didn’t think about it until now…” scrambling to get off of his lap Mr. Suh keeps you in place.

“I wouldn’t have started anything with you if Lily were in the house. She’s with Jaehyun right now. His neighbor’s kids are her classmates. She visits him every now and then to spend more time with them. It’s okay we’re alone,” he chuckles.

“Thank heavens,” you sink into his hold. “Wait a second! I thought she was sick. Is she well enough to be around others?” You perk up again.

Avoiding your gaze Johnny clears his throat. “Uh, about that…I, uh, lied. Well, I mean she wasn’t feeling well. She ate too much chocolate and had a stomach ache, but she’s fine now.”

Freezing on top of him your eyes widen. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have bought so much.”

Wrapping a gentle hand around your neck he pulls you down to him. “She ate my chocolate apparently. Snuck down at night,” he smiles against your lips. “The little sneak.”

Smiling along with him you enjoy the warm cozy feeling of his slipping from your neck down to your back, where his his thumb rubs against you with a soothing touch. “She’s adorable. You’ve done a great job raising her.”

“Thank you,” Johnny kisses you gently. “I’m surprised you haven’t asked me about her mother,” he pulls away from you hands resting on your hips once again. 

Shit…

“Oh, I, now that you mention it, I haven’t met her.” You laugh nervously.

Not believing your realization one bit he squints at you. “Exactly what has Jaehyun told you?”

Ears perking up you turn away from him. “Mr. Jeong? What do you mean?”

“Now I could be a poor judge of character, but you don’t seem like the type of girl who would ruin a marriage just because she has the hots for the husband. So, I’m guessing you either know or have an inkling as to why you haven’t met Lily’s mother. So, what is it?”

“Ummm, I mean, I…”

A dark aura swirls around Mr. Suh while a devilish grin dances across his face. “Hmm, maybe a little coaxing will do the trick,” he moves one of his hands from your hips to between your legs — lifting away from him startled, he uses the opportunity to cup your throbbing core. “So, what do you know?” He adds pressure while rubbing his hand over you, stirring the neediness to have him buried deep inside of you.

“M-Mr. S-Suh!!”

“Come on, tell me, what do you know?” He presses harder against your pulsating core, your body pushing down against his hand wanting more. 

Shaking your head you try to prolong his taunting. “N-Nothing! W-We barely talk about you,” a half truth and half lie. 

Slowing down Johnny goes to remove his hand but you grab his wrist. “Oh, do you suddenly remember?” 

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. “Please!” You bring his hand back to your now soaking core not caring if your jeans are getting ruined and grind against his hand.

Gulping, Johnny watches you for a second mesmerized by your performance. How you’re so worked up and he hasn’t even taken off your clothes. Snapping out of his thoughts he yanks his hand away. “Tell me what you know and I’ll continue.” 

Crying out you go to grab his hand again but he puts it behind his back. “MR. SUH!!!!” 

“Tell me what I need to know and if you’re good I’ll give you what you want and then some.” 

“Why do you want to know so badly? Really, Mr. Jeong normally just asks if you’re nice to me and if I’m actually learning anything. Apparently my grades aren’t proof enough.” Your body goes slack against him.

Kissing the top of your head that’s now resting on his chest, he slides his hands under the hem of your shirt and up your back. The warmth of his fingers making you shiver. “Just tell me, that’s all you have to do.” He whispers.

Groaning you shake your head. “If I die its your fault. He told me to keep this knowledge a secret you know.”

“He won’t hurt you. Now out with it. I’d like to have some adult time before Lily gets home.”

Sitting up straight almost hitting Johnny’s chin you clear your throat. “Mr. Jeong told me not to mention your wife at all in front of you or Lily. He didn’t give me a lot of details but just said that she left and mentioning her would make you upset. So that’s why I never once asked about her. 

“I actually wanted to give her a present of appreciation for allowing me to borrow you, this whole time. I assumed she would have preferred spending the end of the day with Lily and yourself, but Mr. Jeong said she wouldn’t get it. I thought it meant she was sick or dead. He corrected me.”

“So, you know everything?” His gaze falls from yours.

“In a roundabout way, yes.”

“So, I must ask, are you sure these feelings of yours, aren’t out of pity? The poor tutor whose wife ditched him in the middle of the night.”

“Stop that!” You shout startling him. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, but I already thought you were irresistible from the moment I saw you. That awkward text message to my friend is evidence enough.” He chuckles, shaking his head still avoiding your gaze. Grabbing his chin you turn and raise his head so he’s looking into your eyes. 

“Nothing has changed. I do not like you out of pity. I like you because you’re resilient. You raised Lily into a sweet girl, really, she’s adorable. You juggled being a full-time dad with a full-time job. You’re still able to keep a bachelor like Mr. Jeong around despite it all so you’re either super mega ultra best friends, or you’re loaded and he’s using you for your money.” He cracks a huge smile and you continue. “And,” your hand drops from his chin but a single finger slides down his neck, Johnny gulping in the process. “You obviously take care of your physical health too…” your finger finds it’s way to the middle of his broad muscular chest.

”That’s a lot coming from someone who doesn't know me at all.” He attempts to brush off your compliments, but the tinge of pink coming to his cheeks betrays him. 

“And you don’t know anything about me aside from the fact that you’re now my tutor and math is definitely not my best subject. Yet here we are,” you roll your pelvis against his. “Two strangers trying to find something that they need.”

”What exactly do I need?” He grunts when a particular roll of your hips makes him buck upwards.

Smirking, you slither down to the floor, crawling between Johnny’s legs. Locking eyes with him, you run your hands up his thighs and over the tent of his jeans. 

“A release,” you giggle moving your face closer to where his dick is covered by his jeans. 

Pressing harder against him you palm him over the taught fabric. “I-Is that so?!!” He says breathlessly trying to keep his cool.

“Mhmm, oh and maybe a tight pussy to shove your big dick into.” You unzip his jeans. “Plus, it’s been far too long since I’ve gotten a proper release myself.”

Gulping, he watches you like a hawk, his chest rising and falling. “Wh-When was the last time exactly?”

Pausing, you think back to your last boyfriend. A boy indeed since you both were only sixteen at the time. He was nice and cute, the typical boy next door that every mother wants for her daughter. Hell, he even went to church on Sunday’s. The problem with him… behind those baby blue eyes and sweet smile, he was a complete sadist! 

Bending you over the bed frame while he plowed into you from behind, not warming you up, not caring about the fact it was your first time and you could feel blood trickling down your leg. It hurt a lot that first time. The couple times afterwards we’re just as bad. He called foreplay smacking your pussy with his dick, rather hard too. And a female orgasm, forget about it. He stated with his full chest ‘the female orgasm doesn’t exist. I’ve read numerous academic articles online.’ In truth he read a bunch of misogynistic, I’m-an alpha-male-who-can’t-make-a-woman-cum articles that convinced him otherwise. 

After the third terrible, painful sexual experience you had to grow a backbone and call it quits — resulting in a rumor that you loved eating ass, because that made sense. The only ass you would have eaten was his so it all backfired on him anyway. A snippet of karma for his pettiness. 

The only other experience was with your neighbor's daughter. An out of the blue moment, you were both watching porn and just wanted to know how it would feel. That was your senior year and boy was it… fun. A tiny secret you’ll keep till you find a man who is self-assured enough to handle it. Perhaps… Mr. Suh could be…

“It’s been quite a while. And I really,” you move back to tug down his jeans, Mr. Suh helping you by raising his butt off the couch. “Really need to get rid of this pent up frustration you’ve caused. And since it’s your fault,” you toss his jeans over your head. “I think it’s only fair that you help me out. Don’t you think?” 

Leaning forward you press your lips on Johnny’s incredible length. Already impressed you run your lips across his briefs licking a wet streak as you go.

“Jesus Christ,” he groans throwing his head back. “God that feels good already.”

Giggling you find the tip of his cock, his briefs showing a stain of precum on the outside. Smushing your thighs together you attempt to calm the beating of your pulsing bundle of nerves — wanting so badly to touch yourself, to come undone while sucking him off, but Mr. Suh needs this moment and you can wait. 

Suckling on the cum that’s leaked from him already you savor the taste of him. How many times you’ve dreamt about what he would taste like and smell like. How big he’d be — your imagination not doing him justice at all, and how it would feel for him to go balls deep inside of you. 

“I need your lips on me…” he groans, with one hand gripping the arm of the couch for dear life and the other tangled up in his hair. 

Kitten licking the impression of his cock you grab the waistband of his briefs and yank them down as well, till he steps out of them with your help. Tossing them behind you like you did his jeans you darn near pass out. Nothing you could have ever imagined would compare to what is in front of you. With your mouth hanging open, Johnny sits up taking off his shirt and throwing it with his other clothes. 

Sitting back he takes his more than you would have thought, length into his hand stroking it. Amazed at the scene in front of you, you stay put almost desperate to watch him jerk himself off before even motioning for you to come over and make him cum again. Now that would be punishment.

“Do you think you candle this?” He taunts you by wiggling his cock in front of you. 

Not only was he long but the amount of girth he possessed made it hard for his cock to stand up on its own. It’s just too damn heavy. 

“I-I’m more than willing to try!” You scramble between his legs desperate to taste him again.

Before you can take a hold of him, he yanks his cock back. “How badly do you want to suck my dick?”

“I’m soaking wet just thinking about it, Mr. Suh.”

Turning his head away from you stunned by your honesty he composes himself once more. “Come closer,” he calls to you.

Nestling as close as you can between his legs, your arms rest on the tops of his thighs. Earnestly waiting for him to let you take control. 

“Open your mouth,” he instructs.

Opening wide, you follow his instructions. Mr. Suh, pumps his hand up and down his length a few more times until he places just the tip of his cock into your mouth. 

“Ouhm,” you make a non-coherent sound and try to hold onto his length, the weight of his cock already a lot by just the tip resting in your mouth. 

Quickly, before you can take hold, Mr. Suh pulls his cock away chuckling. “I don’t know if you can handle it.”

Clicking your tongue you get up onto your knees. “Watch me!” 

Staring down at the massive length of Johnny’s cock, you gulp as lightly as you can muster. This is going to be a hell of a task. Of course, you expected him to be packing but this! It’s as everyone says, God does have favorites and he’s bestowed Johnny onto you. 

Thank you.

Looking up at Johnny you stare him down as you stick out your tongue. Getting closer and closer to the tip of his cock, his bottom lip gets snagged between his teeth. Anticipation causes his chest to rise and fall — ears, cheeks, and chest turning the lightest shade of pink. Nodding he urges you to move closer and when you finally make contact with the tip, his eyes roll to the back of his head.

”Fuck~~~” he drawls out a growl. 

It wasn’t just his eyes that rolled into the back of his head, but yours too. As you kitten lick down the length of his cock, you can’t help but moan onto his shaft. The taste and smell of him, intoxicating. You lick a stripe down to the base only to pull away and blow gently on the wetness you created.

“Sh-Shit…” Mr. Suh chuckles. “That’s something new,” he strokes the top of your head. 

“Learned it from an ex,” you admit. 

“Tell them I said thanks.” Smirking, you kiss up and down his length before finally taking him into your mouth. “Oh, yes baby…”

Hollowing out your cheeks you suck on the head of his cock. Like a woman possessed you dive deeper and deeper around him. The tip reaching the back of your throat gagging you.

”Easy, baby…” Mr. Suh coos, stroking your hair. “Take your time.”

Sliding up his length your mouth hangs open, saliva stringing from his shaft to your lips. Eyes clouded with lust you merely nod before spitting on his dick and diving back down. 

He is right. There is far too much of him to gobble down immediately. His girth stretching out the corners of your lips making it feel as though they’ll split and bleed. But, you just can’t help yourself. He’s far too enticing to resist. 

Sitting up straighter, you take the lower base of Mr. Suh’s shaft and dive down until you reach your hand. A long groan comes from him. Taking a shot in the dark from your bestie’s rendezvous’ you try the one thing she said made her ex-boyfriend go crazy. 

As Mr. Suh reaches the back of your throat you hold him there in your mouth, your mouth sucking the life out of him before slowly pulling back. Your tongue juts out and you lick the back of his length along the pronounced vein — Mr. Suh’s body trembling underneath your touch.

”Fuck ~~~~ that felt good.” His hand strokes down your hair one last time before he grabs a handful. “But I need more of that pretty mouth of yours.”

Lowering your head back down onto his cock, Mr. Suh uses your mouth to get himself off. His hips thrusting up, his dick slides in and out of your mouth quickly. Your eyes tearing up — the tip of his length no doubt creating an impression in the back of your throat — pushing you down further, your body moves forward and curls as you try not to gag. Doing everything you’ve heard to stop yourself from retching, you keep your body still until he pulls out.

Choking on air, you wipe your mouth of the thick saliva that escaped past your lips. Looking up at Johnny starry and blurry eyed you watch him stroke himself earnestly waiting for you to wrap your lips around him again. Pushing his hand away, you do what that useless ex actually complimented you for — and give Mr. Suh the best blow job of his life.

Soaking his cock in your saliva, you lick all the way down his shaft, pumping your hand at the top before sucking one of his balls into your mouth. Mr. Suh’s hand finding purchase in your hair before he pulls you back, causing you to release his sack with a pop and barely giving you a chance to give the other a little lick before you’re staring at him again.

With a smirk plastered to your face you ask, “what? You don’t like that?” 

”Quite the contrary, but I’d rather cum with your mouth wrapped around my dick and not my balls.” 

Listening to his request you wrap your lips around the tip once more and suckle on it and his length like he was your favorite flavor of lollipop. Small kisses decorate the underside of his shaft before you kiss the head. Staring him down you slide your hand up and down his length.

Mr. Suh’s eyes start closing the closer you edge him to cum. His body trembling and his groans getting louder until you blow down the slickness you’ve created and he shivers beneath you. Giggling you hollow your cheeks around him and drink him up when his hands hold your head down on him.

”Fuck! Just a little…” he growls lifting his hip, his cock sliding in out of your mouth. “SHIT!!” He pushes your head down more until you choke on his dick, this time your hands grip the top of his thighs, your nails creating impressions in his skin. “I’m gonna~~~” he groans, his head dropping back to his shoulders.

Warm liquid fills your mouth. Small whimpers rumble in your throat as his cum coats your mouth. He doesn’t move away, his pelvis frozen in the air while he spasms beneath you. Your mouth fills and some of his essence slips past your lips and drips down his length. With one final jerk of his body, Mr. Suh lowers himself down back to the couch, his cock sliding from your lips slowly.

His chest heaves quickly, eyes clouded just like you know yours are. With a quick swipe of your thumb over your lips, you tilt your head back, his cum slipping down your throat until its gone. 

“Shit…” he lets out a long shaky breath. “That was amazing,” he chuckles. “But I do think I need to repay the favor.”

”Oh, believe me Mr. Suh, it was my pleasure,” you say, licking all of the residue of his release from your fingers. 

Wiggling a finger, he beckons you to him. “Come here, you little brat,” he calls to you. 

Getting onto your feet you stand between Mr. Suh’s legs. He sits up, eyeing your body before him. “Well this won’t do,” he slides his hand under your shirt. “We need to get rid of these.” 

Quickly, you strip from your shirt, the fabric flying off the top of your head and landing somewhere on the floor. Laughing, Mr. Suh, undoes the buttons of your jeans, sliding them down your body. Just like your shirt you discard the piece of clothing somewhere away from you on the floor. Standing in your bra and panties, Mr. Suh takes the opportunity to let his eyes roam over every curve and inch of you. 

Thanking the Lord you decided to wear your matching black bra and panties today instead of your usual ‘whatever you can find’ combo — he wraps his arms around the back of your legs and pulls you till you're straddling his lap once more, your soaked panties brushing against his hardened length.

Shocked that Mr. Suh could still be this hard after coming once, you wrap your arms around his neck. “You’re quite insatiable, Mr. Suh.” You tease and grind on top of his length earning a low growl from deep in his throat.

“How could I not be with a beautiful woman in my presence?” He asks and unsnaps your bra, the straps sliding down your arms before you sit up allowing him to pull the fabric off of you. Discarding it in the heap of clothing now collecting on the floor he takes in your bare breasts. 

With hungry eyes and a lick of his lips he cups one of your breasts in his hand. An airy moan has you throwing your head back, your hands resting on his shoulder. 

“So sensitive,” he says playfully. 

“They’ve always been sensitive…” you confess. 

“Is that so?” 

Leaning forward, he gives your unattended breast a kiss near your nipple. Another moan emitting from you. Taking both of your breasts in his hands, you arch your back, resting your hand instead of on his shoulder but the top of his thighs. Glancing up at you he captures one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud. While he pinches and twists the other nipple. 

Your hips start grinding on top of his lap, the feeling of his mouth on your breast a little too good to withstand. Growling his teeth graze over your perky bud making you jump a little. Chuckling he switches to the other side and repeats the same sensuous torture, your body craving for his mouth and hands on another part of you. Kissing along the top of your chest, his arms wrap around your waist pulling you back to him — his back resting on the back of the couch, while he devours your chest up to your neck one kiss, lick and nip at a time. 

“Your choice,” he whispers against your neck. “Mouth or fingers?”

“E-Eh?”

Staring up at you with those chocolate orbs of his, he reaches for the back of your neck and pulls you down gently till his lips rest on yours. “Do you want me to get you off with my mouth or my fingers?” He places a feather-like kiss on your lips. 

Gulping, you whisper against each kiss he leaves, “f-fingers…please!”

Knowing that there is no way in hell that you would last even a minute if his tongue grazed over your clit — at least with his fingers you’ll be able to feel him inside of you — the probability of lasting longer much higher than if he used his mouth. The throbbing between your legs making you three times more sensitive than normal, a loud moan interrupts your throats as Mr. Suh rubs over your wet folds — having already moved your panties to the side, he prods your entrance before rubbing over your clit once more. 

Mumbling against your neck, he pulls his hand back from you. “Fuck baby, you’re already so wet.” Pulling his hand up he shows you your slick on his fingers. “Damn…” he twiddles his fingers in amazement at how you’ve soaked them. “So wet for me,” he slides his fingers into his mouth.

“M-Mr. Suh!!!!” You squeak, grabbing his hand to stop him but his fingers disappear into his mouth. 

Groaning, his eyes roll back as he sucks his fingers clean of your juices. “So fucking good…I knew you’d taste good,” he drops his hand back down to between your legs, his fingers sliding across your folds; spreading your slick over your clit. Probing your entrance with his middle finger, he rubs your bundle of nerves with his thumb. 

“M-Mr. Suh…” you whimper. 

Sliding his finger inside of you, he bites down on your neck. “Shit, baby,” he pumps his finger in and out of you. Squelching noises from your pussy sound out alongside your soft moans. “You’re dripping wet...”

“I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you,” you place your hands on the side of his face, tilting his head up for you to kiss him. The taste of his mouth as well as your slick swirling around, arousing you more and more as the kiss prolongs. Your hips start swiveling before you drop down onto his finger — sinking him inside of you. “Mmm…more…” you raise your hips to slide back down on his fingers.

“You sure?” He bites your bottom lip.

”Pleas, Mr. Suh…” you whine.

Chuckling, he waits until you’ve raise your hips once more before sliding his finger out, a strand of your wetness pulling away. Rubbing over your clit gently with his fingers, he soothes you into a comfortable rhythm, your hips following his movements against his cock. When his fingers are nice and wet, he whispers ‘up,’ and you separate from his length. 

One-by-one, Mr. Suh slides in all of his fingers but his thumb into your entrance. Each time allowing you to adjust to his fingers and the spread of your inner walls. It’s been far too long since you’ve felt this good and without thinking, your pelvis starts to grind down onto his fingers. 

“That’s it baby,” he kisses your chin. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.”

With this simple command you sink yourself deeper down onto Mr. Suh’s fingers. Your body arching back, his fingers pressed together creating the perfect arch to rub over that sensitive spot inside of you. Forgetting to be coy, you become a moaning whimpering whore on top of him. The only thing running through your mind is trying to find that sweet release you’ve been dying to feel from the moment he kissed you. 

The way he grabbed you and choked you. The sensuous venom in his voice as he called you a brat. How he couldn’t help but rock his hips into yours while you sucked the life out of his tongue before you showed his cock — mere inches below you, the same treatment. Nothing else matters in the world right now than finding your release, but more importantly that Mr. Suh is the one helping you.

“SHIT!” You screech when a specific rock of your hip has you slowly coming undone on top of him. 

“Right there, baby?” He sits up, moving his body back to get a better angle.

“Yes! Yes!” You cry out.

Like a flash of light, Mr. Suh grips onto your hip while he quickly moves his fingers in and out of you — building up the pressure from deep inside of you. Your body starts to raise higher and higher as he continues to pound his fingers into you. Words are lost on your tongue while cries of pleasure and a bit of pain pour from you. The charging roar of your climax sending chills over your body, your sight becoming dark and blurry until you scream.

“FUCK!!!!” 

Liquid pours from you as Mr. Suh removes his hand, drenching his lap and the inside of your legs. He holds onto you tightly while your body jerks and spasms from the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt. 

“Keep going, baby,” he growls his hand rubbing over your clit gearing up another wave of juices to pour from you. “That’s it! That’s a good girl!” He chuckles, amazed at how riled up you got. “But I’m sorry, I need more from you.” Small spasms take over you as your placed with your back down on the couch and your legs wrapped around Mr. Suh’s hips. 

More? How can you possibly give any more than what you’ve already done? You know through the starry blackness covering your eyes, that you’ve soaked Mr. Suh’s lap and his couch in the process and yet he wants more? You didn’t even know you could squirt! And he wants to make you squirt more?!

Unwrapping your legs from his waist, he grabs a pillow from the couch placing it behind your head making sure you’re comfortable. Lifting up your legs he slides your drenched panties up and off of you, squeezing them to see how much of your squirt spills from them and onto the floor. 

“You have no idea how bad I want to fuck you right now,” he growls as the last drop of your essence hits the floor. 

“Then do it~~” you whine, still breathless from your release. 

“Patience, sweetie,” he chuckles, nestling between your legs. “I’m going to savor you for as long as I can.” 

Kissing the inside of your thighs, your body reacts instantaneously. Your legs clamping down around his face making him laugh as he’s squished between your thighs. Prying your legs open he gives your pussy mound a light kiss before his tongue finally lands on your bundle of nerves. 

“SH-SHIT!!!!” Your legs go to clamp around his face but he quickly holds out his hands to block them. “I-I can’t…I can’t…” you cry, your hands gripping the pillow behind you.

Popping his head up you can see your juices smeared across his lips and chin. “Yes you can,” he licks his lips staring you dead straight in the eyes. An involuntary moan has you bitting your bottom lip to keep you from making any more sounds. “You taste delicious,” he dives down for another lick. “Best pussy ever.” He mumbles against your folds.

Spreading your folds with his tongue, Mr. Suh clamps down around your clit, sucking it hard until you’re seeing stars once more. Raising your one leg up closer by your ears you give him more access. His hands move from your inner thighs to your hips while he devours you. Slurping sounds fill the room while he drinks you. 

Mr. Suh works quickly as he gears you up for your next orgasm. Hips moving against his mouth you try to urge your body as well to reach that place of euphoria once more. Hands moving from the pillow behind you to your breasts you massage the taut flesh giving in to the feeling of Mr. Suh’s tongue swirling around your clit and down to your entrance. 

Wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of the evening like this on the couch, your body starts to rile up again. The tiny hairs on your body standing on end, a fire building up from the top of your head making its way to your stomach with ever roll of your hips and every swipe of Mr. Suh’s tongue.

As your hips raise higher and higher so does Mr. Suh’s face. Holding you steady he prods your entrance with his tongue, sucking up all of the juices that have since poured from you. 

“Don’t stop!” You moan. “Please don’t stop!” Darkness starts to take over your sight. The pressure in your stomach exploding into a million butterflies.

Gulping down your juices that starts to pour out of you once again, Mr. Suh wraps his arms around your legs keeping them in place, your pelvis raised in the air. 

“Come on, baby,” he says, face smushed into your pussy. “I need more from you.”  

Shaking in his hold, he moves his tongue up and down from your clit to your entrance again and again until the darkness turns into tiny stars. Finding comfort at your sensitive nub, he swirls his tongue around and around when a loud cry emits from you.

”F-FUCKKKK!!!!!!” 

You twist and try to get away from him when your orgasm takes you out like a freight train. Body quaking more liquid pours from you entering his mouth and onto the couch. Feeling like a fish out of water he uses all his strength to keep you onto the couch and not on the floor — still drinking you up as if he were dying of thirst. 

“I can’t! I can’t! I can’t!” You repeat still feeling his tongue on you. “I can’t!” Your hands flail to his hands tapping them to get him to stop.

Mr. Suh smiles and pulls back giving you small kisses on your clit, your mound and your inner thigh — nipping the inside of your left thigh before finally pulling away from you. 

“I could stay here forever,” he laps up your juices from his lips and chin while you lower yourself back down to the couch. Peeking up at you he kisses your clit one last time, earning a moan from you. “You really do have a delicious pussy,” he gives another kiss to your inner thigh. “Are you still with me?”

Shaking your head you lay there exposed in front of him too exhausted to move. “No…”

Laughing, Mr. Suh sits himself up and goes back to where he was sitting prior to making you a lifeless fuck doll. Giving your leg a little tap he calls to you. “Baby,” you barely have enough energy to look at him to see his sweet smile. Insatiable demon tutor! “Come to me.”

Sitting up lethargically, you find Johnny stroking his cock preparing himself for you. Bottom lip between your teeth, you stare at the man in front of you. How a woman would leave him is beyond your wildest imagination. Crawling towards him like a zombie, he wraps an arm around you as you get settled on his lap.

“How do you still have energy?” You ask him, forehead resting on top of his.

Chuckling, he holds you close to him. “I didn’t come three times in a row.” He gives you a little peck.

”And whose fault is that?” You retort.

”Hmm, I think it was a rather handsome tutor who has been fighting the urge day in and day out from kissing a certain student of his. He’s the culprit! Damn him!” 

“You’re a weird guy aren’t you?” You giggle nuzzling your nose against his. “But are you sure about this?” You ask him. “Once we start there’s no going back.” You hover above his length. 

Shocked by your sudden question, he eyes you carefully. “Are you having second thoughts?” 

“No.” His arms wrap around you, making you feel safe and secure. “But I’m not the one who’s married,” you lean back enough to lick his lips before placing a kiss upon them.

“Is it still a marriage when one person hasn’t called, sent a text, shown up in the last two years?” He nips along your jawline.

“No. I wouldn’t call that a marriage at all.” Reaching between your legs you take hold of his length positioning him at your entrance.

“I’m okay if you’re okay,” he whispers in your ear.

Slowly lowering yourself onto Mr. Suh’s cock the two of you hiss when your walls surround his length. Gripping your waist tightly he grits his teeth at the snug fit. 

“You’re so tight,” he clamps down on the side of your neck. “Fuck! So good!”

“N-No…” you gasp as you bottom out. “You’re just really big!”

Smirking against your skin, Johnny looks up at you. “Don’t move. Just sit here for a while,” he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “I haven’t felt this good in two years,” he sighs contently.

“Wait…You haven’t been with another woman in two years?!”

“No. I always thought…” he goes quiet. “Silly, isn’t it?”

“Not silly,” you stroke his hair gently. “It’s just messed up what she did to you. I mean I wouldn’t leave someone as handsome as you. As sweet and kind as you. As patient as you’ve been with me and this tutoring business.” You start to giggle which draws his attention. “And not to make it all about your dick, but like hell I’d leave a man who’s as big as you.” With a gentle thrust he buries himself deeper inside of you. “Ahhh!!!” You moan. “N-Not cool, Mr. Suh,” you tease. 

“Not gonna lie, it’s been kind of hot to hear you call me Mr. Suh this whole time. Especially now when I’m buried inside of you,” he thrusts upward again. 

“Oh really?” Leaning down to his ear you whisper gently. “Mr. Suh, I want you to make me cum again,” you bite his ear gently. 

Holding onto your waist, Johnny keeps you steady as you start to use his dick to get yourself off. Grinding on top of him, your arms rest behind you, hands on his knees — back arching to feel him rub against you in such a tantalizing way, you start to go cross-eyed. He feels too good to stop or to slow down. His massive cock reaching parts of you no other person, man or woman, has ever reached before. 

“Shit!” You shout when you finally slow down.

Falling forward, one of your hands rests on the back of the couch, and Johnny uses the opportunity to grab your breasts massaging them while you bounce on his cock.

”Aaahhh…” you moan when he pinches your nipples, your hips jutting forward at the slight pain. 

“Come on baby, make yourself cum,” he leans forward wrapping his mouth around your nipple. 

“Fuck~~~” you hiss.

Your hips move faster than ever, your climax getting closer and closer with each swivel of your pelvis. 

“S-So close…” you cry out. 

Biting down on your nipple, Johnny swirls your erect bud within his mouth. Each time the tiniest bit of pain turns into pleasure and shoots to your core. Your body starts growing warmer as you gear up for another orgasm, but you need more, you want more. Tapping his arm he pulls back from your breast with a pop.

Without a second thought you turn yourself around on his lap, back facing him, you slide down onto his cock reveling in the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hands at your hips, you lean back till your face is next to his. Holding the side of your face he kisses you gently while stuffing his cock into your pussy. 

He pummels your pussy, your back arching, hips bouncing on top of him. Reaching around you, his other hand rubs over your clit making you pull away from him and cry out.

”Again! Please!!!!” 

One hand holding onto your neck, the other rubbing over your pulsing bundle of nerves, Mr. Suh pushes his cock deep into your soaking core. Wet squelching noises fill the room along with your moans. Completely bare to the world you fall into a deep trance of lust. 

As you're bouncing on top, Mr. Suh takes his hand and gives your swollen clit a little slap — a small action having you jut your hips forward, your body shivering with pleasure. The word again comes out of your mouth as if it were your mantra, he shoves you down onto his cock while he rubs over your pussy, but not before he gives it another little slap, this time, you let out a guttural scream of pleasure. 

“Ahhhhh…shit!!!!” 

With each thrust of his hips into you, you slide up his cock little by little only to drench his length, the couch, and floor with your juices. Legs shaking, he holds onto you with one hand, the other snaking between your legs — fingers entering inside of you, moving quickly until you release again onto the floor. 

“Fucking love this pussy,” Mr. Suh growls into your ear as he yanks you backdown onto his cock. 

Neither of you waste time as you bounce on top of him again. Still sensitive from before your moans grow louder. Each thrust hitting every nerve of your body just right. Your heart pounds in your ears, as Mr. Suh once again rubs over your sensitive clit. In no time you’re screaming out that you're coming yet again and soon your body pulls away from him as you squirt onto his floor. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he pulls you back down onto the couch.

Lifeless from the epitome of pleasure, he places you onto all fours while he gets behind you. Sliding into you, he grabs your hips and rams into you. 

Back arched, ass up in the air you cling onto the fabric of his couch — now soaked in your juices. Mr. Suh’s long thick cock drives into you, sparing you no mercy as your whimpers continue nonstop.

Wanting to feel him deeper inside of you, you start pushing yourself against him — ass flush against his hips.

“More…more…” you cry out.

Possessed by your own lust for him, you start bouncing on his lap — pussy gulping him down inch by inch. Mr. Suh’s groans getting drowned out by your desperation. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You yell each time your hips meet his. 

Hunched over you, he digs his nails into your flesh as he pushes into you harder balls slapping against you. It wasn’t long until your eyes clench shut and your body starts to tremble. Moving faster Mr. Suh pushes you to lose your senses once more. 

“I-I-I’m coming!” You scream. 

Shoving his cock into you a few more times Mr. Suh pulls out just as you explode, your squirt pouring down onto your legs. Cupping your core, he eases you back down from your high while simultaneously driving you over the edge. 

“Lay down for me, okay?” He asks, kissing your cheek. 

Crawling onto the couch you flop down onto your back, arms and legs feeling like anchors on your body. Chuckling, he hovers over you, hiking one of your legs up to give him more room to move. Dazed you run your hands down his chest feeling the muscles of his body. Biting your lip, you try to keep yourself from coming undone just by the look and feel of him. 

“You’re so beautiful right now,” he smiles, bending down to give you a quick kiss on the lips while he teases your entrance. 

“S-Sure I am,” a shiver comes over you, your hips already moving against the tip of his cock. 

“Trust me, if only you could see how beautiful you look right now,” he rubs the tip of his cock over your swollen pulsing bud before sliding into you. 

Eyes closed you relish in the feeling of Mr. Suh being inside of you. All those days and weeks wanting to know what it was like could never paint a good picture of what it truly was like to be filled by the man above you. The roll of his hips as he goes deeper inside of you. The soft yet powerful thrusts, his body getting dangerously close to yours — trapping you beneath him, somehow getting squished under this man doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 

How he grips your body tightly, nails sinking into your skin causing just the right amount of pain to push you closer to your breaking point. Opening your eyes, you gasp seeing the sight above you. Mr. Suh’s hair drenched in sweat, his body glistening in the light of his lamps. Eyes dark and yet so full of… admiration, you can’t help but pull him down closer to you. Wanting nothing more than your bodies to be connected to each other. 

“I don’t want to squish you,” he chuckles in your ear. 

“Do it, I don’t care.” You wrap your legs just above his pelvis. “Crush me into this couch while you fuck me!” 

Grunting, Mr. Suh slams his hips into yours so hard you see nothing but black for a second. “Shit!” You screech holding onto him for dear life. 

Just like you asked, he doesn’t hold back anymore. His body lowering onto you completely, his hips grinding into yours fast and hard you’re shocked you haven’t been split in half already. Nails sliding down his back, he picks up his pace signaling he’s close. Hands going up to his hair, you grip the ends tightly begging for him to use you. 

“Fuck. That. Pussy!” You growl in his ears. “Shit! I love your dick so much,” you bite down on his ear. 

Like some kind of primal creature, Mr. Suh growls and moves his hips faster and deeper — crushing you into the couch, not caring at all whether or not he’s hurting you. The only thing he’s chasing is the high he's made you feel time and time again this afternoon. 

His breathing becomes ragged as do his thrusts and just as he pulls out of you, that powerful wave of euphoria washes over you. Pumping himself in his hand, Mr. Suh throws his head back as he cums — white strands landing on top of your clit and mound. 

“Sh-Shit!” He growls, his hand moving up and down his length quickly not stopping until he’s painted your pussy in every last drop of his cum. “Fuck~~” he exhales deeply, his body sinking back onto his knees. 

With his length still in his hand he leans forward rubbing the tip of his cock over your clit. You yelp, almost pulling away when suddenly your body starts to become hot. Your breathing quickens and before you know it, you scream as another wave of satisfaction makes you crumble beneath him. 

“F-F-Fuck!!!” He smirks, still rubbing over your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-Okay… okay…” you hold out your hands, body jerking and shaking. “I really can’t… no more, no more…” you cry out and giggle.

Pulling away from you, Mr. Suh takes a breather before tapping your legs that are sprawled out, a picture perfect view of your cum soaked core in front of him. Sitting up he opens his arms for you. Getting up to your hands and knees you crawl over to him only to melt in his arms and lap. 

“That was…” he starts a goofy smile on his face. 

“DAMN YOU!” You hit his chest playfully. “Now I won’t be able to have sex with anyone else.” 

Laughing, Mr. Suh wraps you tightly in his arms kissing the top of your head. “Good,” he pulls back far enough to see your face. “Because I’m far from done with you. I still haven’t punished you,” he squints.

”EHHH?!!!” 

A loud giggle and the slam of a door startles both you and Mr. Suh. Leaping up from the couch and his arms you scramble to get your clothes and throw him his. Both of you heading back to his study, you giggle as you both give each other sneaky touches that if it wasn’t for Lily coming home it would sure start up another round. 

Stepping into your pants and throwing on your bra and shirt, Mr. Suh has since put on his jeans and shirt and is trying to help you as best as he can. Grabbing your hand he pulls you out of his study, down the hall and heads straight for the kitchen. Taking out your binder you pretend that you have been working on your homework and studying when the door opens — just as Mr. Suh sits down next to you. 

”Daddy! Daddy!” 

“In the kitchen sweetheart,” he shouts, his chest heaving. 

Lily comes running into the kitchen with a huge stuffed animal in her tiny arms. “Daddy, look!” She holds out a tiger cub. “Isn’t she cute?!” 

“She’s adorable! Did you give her a name?”

”Kimmie!” 

“That’s a wonderful name,” Mr. Suh strokes her hair. “Is Uncle Jaehyun with you?”

”I’m here,” he saunters into the kitchen, more leisurely looking than what you’re used to. His hair isn’t slicked back neatly, but resting gently around his eyes. Though he still looks put together, a plain white t-shirt and denim jeans, on him — he’s just like a model from a clothing ad. 

“Uncle Jaehyun won it for me!” She jumps and down with the tiger in her arms. 

“Did he?” Mr. Suh smirks. “How long did it take you?”

”Too long…” he groans. “By the way what’s up with the huge wet mess on the couch?” 

Going stiff beside Mr. Suh you try to act normal. You try not to act like you’re the cause of the massive puddle that is slowly soaking into his furniture. Let alone, the floor which Mr. Jeong most likely saw as well. 

“We had to come into the kitchen after spilling some white wine on the couch. It was my fault. I tripped,” Mr. Suh laughs, scratching the back of his neck.

”And you just left the puddle of wine on the floor?” Mr. Jeong crosses his arms, his eyes going from Mr. Suh, to you. 

“I was just about to clean it up when you guys walked in,” he says with an eerie perkiness. “Lily, sweetheart, why don’t you go and put Kimmy upstairs with your other stuffed animals. Your uncle and I need to talk.”

”Okay daddy,” she hops over to Mr. Jeong and he instantly picks her up and gives her a huge hug and kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for taking me to the arcade Uncle Jeong.”

”You’re welcome,” he gives her one last kiss and she skips off to her bedroom.

The kitchen is quiet until Mr. Jeong hears footsteps above his head. Most likely Lily heading to her room. When the footsteps start to disappear, he stares accusingly at both Mr. Suh and yourself.

”What the hell is going on?” 

Getting up from the table, Mr. Suh heads towards a counter far off from where you’re seated and grabs a couple paper towels. Sinking in your seat you stay there before jumping up. 

“I-I can do that Mr. Suh! Plus, Mr. Jeong wanted to talk to you.”

”Seriously, Mr. Jeong? We’re not in class anymore, it’s Jaehyun.” 

“Sorry, Mr. Jaehyun.” You rush over and grab the paper towels and head for the mess you made before anyone could say anything else. 

Taking a peek at the mess Mr… Jaehyun mentioned, you cringe at the face he most likely made. He’s a smart man, there's no way he didn’t think up some kind of weird scenario in his head of what could have happened. And as much as Mr. Suh tried to cover it up, there is no way he’s going to believe that happened at all. 

Getting on your hands and knees you start to wipe up the puddles of your squirt you made on the floor. It wasn’t as much as you thought, most of it on the couch which you’ll have to fork over some of your shopping money to pay for a deep cleaning or a new couch for Mr. Suh. Your head hangs low as all of the different items you wanted to buy slowly become a wish instead of a dream. 

‘What’s your problem? I told you nothing happened!’ Mr.Suh’s voice travels into the living room. ‘Are you serious? That’s what you’re upset about?’ 

Sitting up you lean back trying to see what’s going on in there, but sadly there is no clear view into the kitchen from the living room. 

‘I told you that in confidence and you go behind my back?!’ Jaehyun shouts. ‘What kind of friend does that?’

Mr. Suh went behind his back? You start scooting closer and closer to the kitchen, still within the vicinity of your mess, but much closer to hear what’s really being said. 

‘Have you talked to her at all? Did you even ask her if she likes you? If you’re even her type?’

‘That isn’t what we’re discussing here!’ Jaehyun mumbles. ‘We’re discussing the obvious mess out in the living room!’ 

‘What are you trying to imply?’

Your body has now pressed itself onto the wall, heart pounding as Jaehyun’s voice becomes but a mere whisper… ‘you fucked her didn’t you?’ Waiting for Mr. Suh’s response, your arm that was wiping up your slick off the floor is now wiping a nonexistent mess in the air — your mind far too invested in the conversation both your… teachers are having in the other room. 

‘Why would you think that?’ Mr. Suh replies, his voice steady.

‘THERE IS A FUCKING MESS OUT IN THE LIVING ROOM! Do you think I buy that bullshit about spilling white wine?’

‘Why would you automatically go to sex? Why isn’t it believable that we both sat down for a glass of wine and it spilled?’

‘Where are the glasses? Where is the bottle? Hmmm?’

Mr. Suh doesn’t say a single word. Jaehyun was right, there is absolutely no way that Johnny can get out of this one. Not even you can think of an excuse that would be good enough to use. 

‘Please just tell me you didn’t fuck her… not after I confessed I had feelings for her. Please tell me you didn’t do it, please.’

Your eyes widen at Mr. Jeong’s words. He has a crush on… you shake your head. That can’t be, he’s your teacher! There’s no way in hell he could like you! Even if he did, there's no way that you can date him, it’s unethical! Not to mention…you take the risk and peek around the corner to see both Mr. Jeong and Mr. Suh sitting down at the kitchen table — Mr. Jeong waiting, pleading for Mr. Suh to answer him. 

‘I’m sorry, Jaehyun.’

Jumping up from his chair, Mr. Jeong knocks it over and it crashes to the floor making you jump. ‘Are you fucking kidding me, man? What is wrong with you? I would never do that to you! So why?’ He slams his hands down on the table, ‘why?!’ He shouts.

‘She doesn’t belong to you, Jaehyun. She has choices that she can make on her own. It wasn’t planned and I wasn’t plotting against you. It just… happened,’ he sighs. ‘I don’t regret it, all I regret is that you’re upset with me.’

‘It just happened? Is that what you’re going for? Shit man! I told you once she wasn’t my student anymore I was going to ask her out! What is your —

“I would have said no.” You storm into the kitchen. 

Spinning towards you, Mr. Jeong’s shoulders fall from his ears. “You were listening?”

“You weren’t exactly being quiet.” You take the wet paper towels and put them in the trash. “No matter if you asked me the moment I passed your class or a year from now I would have said no. It would be unethical for you to date a student, a former one at that when they’re still actively going to school where you work.”

“She’s not wrong,” Mr. Suh chuckles. 

“Shut up!” Both Mr. Jeong and yourself say in unison. 

“It was never going to be you, Mr… Jaehyun. I hope you understand. If I led you on in any way I apologize, it was never my —”

He holds up a hand. “You didn’t lead me on, ever. These feelings are mine alone.”

“Where does that leave us?” Mr. Suh stands and walks over to you. “Would you be against us, if we…” he looks down at you. 

“If we become a couple?” You finish his statement. 

Running a hand through his hair Jaehyun shakes his head. “There is one thing standing in your way, pal. You’re still married. What if she comes back? Are you going to drop everything and go back to her?”

Shit… You glance up at Mr. Suh. There is no way he will choose you over his wife, not the woman he’s stayed abstinent for…until now and certainly not the mother of his child. He’d always choose…

“I never plan to leave. I waited for two years. My life has been on hold for two years, I’m not going to let anyone make it stop again. I’ll file for divorce immediately and ask her parents to give her the papers. I should have done this already.” He wraps an arm around your waist. “It’s about time I find someone who makes me happy.”

The room goes silent once more as you wait for Jaehyun to give his blessings or walk out. His eyes roam over yours, but when he turns away the tiniest bit of a smile comes to his lips and you know that everything is going to be fine.

“Damn bro, I’m not her dad.” He chuckles.

“No, you’re just the guy who wanted to fuck me too.” You smile brightly. 

“HEY!” Jaehyun shouts. “I wanted to at least take you out on a few dates first,” he clarifies, a boyish grin across his face.  “But unlike this guy over here,” he gestures to Johnny. “I would have put out some towels first.”

“Really? Jokes already?” Mr. Suh rolls his eyes.

Shrugging he walks out of the kitchen and to the door, both you and Mr. Suh following behind. “Your girlfriend started it. Now just because you’re dating my best friend don’t you dare think for a second I won’t fail your ass!” He warns opening up the door. “You’ve worked this hard don’t throw it away from some —”

”And he’s leaving,” Mr. Suh shoves Jaehyun through the frame of the door. 

“See you at school Mr. Jeong!” You wave goodbye. 

Smirking, he gives you a small wave before leaving. “I expect high marks on your final. Don’t disappoint me.” 

The next couple of weeks were rough. Every day you were grilled from the moment you arrived at Mr. Suh’s house to the moment you packed up to go home for your final exam. It didn’t matter that Mr. Suh fucked you stupid or that you squirted all over his couch and his floor, the couch needing a deep cleaning — even then you still offered to pitch in to get him a new one, but he waved off the offer. The choking, biting, blowjob, everything didn’t matter in his eyes. The only thing that mattered was you would pass Mr. Jeong’s course. 

So you studied. You ignored every throb and clench of your clit and entrance when he would lean in close to you. You swallowed down the urge to climb onto his lap at the kitchen table and have him fuck you while you answered any and all math questions he threw your way. You ignored everything that your body wanted because you too wanted to pass Mr. Jeong’s class. 

What you didn’t expect are your legs shaking non stop while you wait for your final exam grade. The year prior you went into your classroom, took the final exam and left — finding out later what your grade was, but not in Mr. Jeong’s class. This time you needed to meet up at the computer lab because your exam was online, your grade being tallied immediately after you finished, or so you thought. 

You didn’t calculate that all of your other classmates were taking the same test, at the same time and were finishing up around the same time as you. A few people sat back and stared into space, others laid their head down until whenever they felt an appropriate amount of time passed. But you just stared at your computer screen until your eyes started to cross. 

Peeking above your screen to where Mr. Jeong sat at the main desk in the room, reading a book, your eyes met his as he scanned the room. He didn’t say anything but raised his brow. Lowering back into your seat you hear a ding startling not just you but other classmates as one by one your grades are shown. 

Your heart sinks to your stomach. This couldn’t be happening. Hands grip your shoulders from behind making you shout and quickly cover your mouth. 

“I’d like to speak with you after class about your grade.” Mr. Jeong whispers. 

“Uh, yes, Mr. Jeong.”

Sighing, you shake your head when he walks away checking in on other students who were still taking their exams. 

Twenty minutes pass and your math final exam is over and done with. The only other class you needed to complete was a Special Education course in which you just had to turn in your observations from shadowing a teacher for a week as well as write an essay. That class, you’d actually miss, but Mr. Jeong’s… it will be a blessing if you never step foot in this room with him again! 

The last couple of people pack up their things and leave the room. Mr. Jeong erases the white board before turning your way, a smirk plastered on his face. 

“Would you please come up front so we can talk?”

Gathering your backpack you walk up to the front of the classroom, a chair already near the main desk waiting for you, spectacular. 

“So, how bad is it?” You ask plopping down on the seat. “Give it to me straight, no sugar coating Mr. Jeong.” 

“Jaehyun.” He corrects you.

”Still on campus, Mr. Jeong.”

Chuckling, he leans on the desk next to you. “Yeah, but I’m no longer going to be your teacher. So the formalities can drop when we see each other in private.”

”It doesn’t matter if you’re going to be my teacher or no —” you cut yourself off realization coming to you. “Wait… you’re not going to be my teacher anymore?”

Shaking his head, Mr. Jeong smiles. “Nope.”

“Does that mean…?”

Nodding, he takes a slip of paper from the desk and writes down your new final grade. “You have passed this class with a C-.” 

“A C-?” Your eyes go from amazed to grumpy. “I thought it would have at least been a C+ borderline B…” you grumbled.

Taking one of his folders he hits you on the head with it. “Do you not know how shitty your grades were before Johnny started to help you? I’m amazed you even had a passing grade. You did well and I seriously owe Johnny a huge favor.” He snickers. “Or maybe you can just do him a favor,” he wiggles his brows. 

“Mr. Jeong, I don’t think it’s appropriate for you to talk about your students' love life at all.”

”Damn… nothing?” He asks. Shaking your head no, he eyes you up and down. “How does that even happen? From the mess you made I would have assumed the two of you would fuck each other’s brains out every time you’re together.” He clicks his tongue. “Still hate that I sent you to him.”

Laughing, you stand up. “Like I said, Mr. Jeong, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.” You bend down to meet him eye to eye. “Plus, I would mess up your apartment.”

Leaning forward his face inches from your own, “leather couch and that faux wooden flooring. Perfect at preventing scuff marks and for spills of all kinds.” 

Reaching up you ruffle his hair, mess it all up and walk away. “See you around, Jaehyun.”

”You better work your ass off tonight and show him how thankful you are!” 

“Sure thing!” You wave, but when you reach for the doorknob you pause. “Jaehyun,” your voice goes soft. 

“Yeah?” He stands from the desk gathering his belongings. 

“Thanks for the help you gave me too. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t have gotten the help I needed. You didn’t need to do that. I mean you guys already have our money. Whether we fail or not… that’s up to us. But you didn’t want me to fail and I didn’t want to fail either. This passing grade goes to you as well. Please never stop helping your students.”

”My place, ask Johnny for directions and you can show me how much I helped you,” he gives you an almost similar smirk that Mr. Suh gave you, must be something they both learned. He bumps your shoulder as you both stand in front of the door. “But seriously, it’s no problem at all. It would look terrible on my record if too many students failed my class,” he places his hand over yours and makes you turn the doorknob. 

“You can repay me by not breaking his heart. I can’t watch him fall apart again.”

”I would never hurt him, Jaehyun. Honest. Even if we do end up breaking up if he ever needed me…”

Pushing you out the door with his hands he closes the door behind you two. “Good. He’s a great guy and he loves hard. It’s never a game with him. If you need to go slow and take your time, which I suggest,” you both walk down the hall to the elevator. “Please just make sure that he’s never kept in the dark with your feelings. It’s not my place to say any of this, but honestly, what his soon to be ex-wife did to him… it was pretty bad.”

”I’m still trying to wrap my head around a mother leaving her child for two years without contact.”

”There are things that even Johnny and I don’t understand.”

”Jaehyun, do you think if she ever comes back Mr. Suh… Johnny will go to her without a second thought about me?” You ask, stepping into the elevator, thank heavens for it being empty aside from Jaehyun and yourself.

“I can’t say for certain if he would or would not.” He pushes the button for the first floor. “They were in love from the moment they saw each other. It was back when we were freshmen in college. Everyone on campus knew them as the “it” couple. He was in a fraternity and she was in a sorority. He played sports and she loved anything to do with the arts. 

“On the outside they may seem different but when you saw them together,” the elevator doors open and you both step out heading for the main doors of the building. “It was as if they were supposed to be together. Two souls that searched the heavens and earth to be together. I’m not saying this to scare you off,” he opens one of the doors and allows you to step out into the crisp winter air. 

“I know.” You whisper.

”All you need to know is that something happened. Whatever that something was, I don’t know and neither does Johnny. He’s tried to reach out to her friends and family but all they’ve said is that they can’t talk.”

”Could it have been something he did? Something he doesn’t know?”

Shrugging, Jaehyun wraps his navy blue scarf around his neck, putting his hands into his coat pockets. “It could be, but if he did do something he doesn’t know what he did.” 

“It still doesn’t excuse the fact that if he did something to make her mad — she refused to speak or even acknowledge her own child for two years.”

”Which is why I’m happy you came along. I genuinely never heard or seen him as happy as he is with you for quite some time — more than two years in fact. Speaking of happiness, let's get away from this dreary subject. What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

”I was going to go over to Mr. Suh’s house and hang out before meeting some friends for a girl’s night. A small get together before the winter break.”

”And you’re going back home this winter?”

Stopping in your tracks you look up at Jaehyun realizing that you never once discussed winter plans with Mr. Suh or your family. In fact, you were so busy studying you never asked him if you guys were official. If he and Lily would like to come over during the break. Would it be too early for them to meet your family?!

”Uhhhh…” your eyes start to shake. 

“Calm down,” Jaehyun pats your shoulder. “Johnny and Lily visit his parents during Christmas. So there, now you don’t have to freak out.”

”Jackass…” you grumble before walking away from him.

”My suggestion,” he says, jogging up to you. “Spend New Year’s with him. He’s always at home with Lily.”

”I’ll bring everything up with him when I see him.” You reassure. 

“Sure you will,” he claps you on the back before moving away from you. “I’m parked this way. Make sure you celebrate! It was nice having you in class.” He waves while heading in the direction of his car. 

“Thanks for everything, Mr. Jeong!” You shout smirking as you go back to addressing him formally. 

Giving you a gritted teeth smile he shouts, “your welcome!”

It wasn’t until your normally scheduled time that you head over to Mr. Suh’s. Primary and secondary schools didn’t get to go on Winter break for two more weeks, while you were free to come and go as you pleased. However, living two hours away from the University wasn’t ideal for meeting up to see Mr. Suh and even see Lily. 

You needed to talk to him about what you were going to do going forward. Now that he’s no longer your tutor, you won’t need him (hopefully) while you finish out your years in school; so knowing where you two stand needs to be a topic for discussion. 

Pulling onto Mr. Suh’s street, your hands start to grow clammy. You made sure to tell him as well as Jaehyun that you wanted to be the one to say what your final grade is. No secret text messages between the two of them. Face to face is what you wanted, whether you passed or failed. 

Now a few houses from Mr. Suh’s you sit up in the driver’s seat to find his car is parked in the driveway. A huge smile coming to your face, but the smile soon fades. Not only was his car in the driveway, but an unknown car is parked next to him. Slowly, you park where you normally do at the end of the driveway and you put your car in park. 

Taking out your phone you shoot him a quick message: 

I’m outside. 

There’s another car in your driveway. 

Is it safe to come inside?

You wait for a reply back, but nothing. He doesn’t even look at it. Thinking it’s best to wait for a little longer, you scroll through some of the text messages and social media posts to pass the time until he hopefully answers back, but he never does. 

The chill of the evening starts to creep around you, making you hug your body. It wouldn’t be rude to at least ring the doorbell and make sure that it’s either safe to come inside despite him having a guest or that you need to go back to your dorm, right? 

Shaking your head, you grab your purse, phone and keys. You can’t just wait until the person inside leaves, or for Mr. Suh to pick up his phone to read the message — you’d become a human popsicle by then. Closing your car door you hesitantly make your way up the pathway to his front door. Your mind racing with a million thoughts of how this was both okay to do and rude. 

But for all you know it could be a friend of his over for a quick visit before leaving, just like you. With this thought in mind you ring the doorbell and give the door a light knock. Stepping back you wait patiently for the door to open. It doesn’t take long for Mr. Suh to come to the door but instead of greeting you, he scrambles out of the door, closing it behind him.

”You can’t be here right now,” he whispers. “You need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow and you can come over.”

”I’m leaving tomorrow. I wanted to talk to you about that actually. Is someone inside?”

”Yes, but really you need to —”

”Sweetheart, what’s going on?” A female’s voice calls from the front door. “Who’s out there?” 

“For the love of…” he growls. “Look, you need to go. We’ll talk after you come back from your break. But please, let me explain everything!” He turns you around to your car.

”Johnny what is going on? Who is she?” The woman’s voice sounds closer than before. Looking back you see a rather beautiful woman standing behind him. Her arms crossed over her chest, hip jutted out and eyes bouncing from you to Johnny. “Who is she?”

Stepping around Mr. Suh you walk up to her with a huge smile on your face. “Hi, I’m Mr. Suh’s student. He’s been tutoring me this semester. I just came by to tell him I passed.” Your smile falters as you turn to face him.

”Y-You did?” He searches your eyes for anything that will let him know you’re not mad at him. “That’s wonderful news.”

”Johnny’s always been the smartest man I’ve known,” the woman walks over to him linking her arm with his. “It’s one of the reasons I married him…” 

[eternal-echoes]

“We live at a time when Muslim extremists destroy Christian churches and holy sites, kidnap and enslave Christian women, and publicly slaughter Christian men in many parts of Africa and the Middle East-with only modest attention from American and European news media. One event did make the headlines, though: the twenty-one Coptic Christians beheaded in 2015 by ISIS in Libya. Masked murderers cut the men's throats on a video broadcast all over the world. The last words of some of them were "Lord Jesus Christ."

What happened next did not make headlines. On Christian television, Beshir Kamel, the brother of two of the murdered men, thanked ISIS for not editing out the men's last declaration of faith in Christ because it had strengthened his own faith. He then added that the families of those who were killed were "congratulating one another." He said: "We are proud to have this number of people from our village who have become martyrs ... Since the Roman era, Christians have been martyred and have learned to handle everything that comes our way. This only makes us stronger in our faith because the Bible told us to love our enemies and bless those who curse us."

When the host asked whether he could forgive ISIS, Kamel relayed what his mother had said she would do if she saw one of the men who killed her son: "My mother, an uneducated woman in her sixties, said she would ask [him] to enter her house and ask God to open his eyes because he was the reason her son entered the kingdom of heaven." When the host invited him to pray for his brothers' killers, Kamel prayed, "Dear God, please open their eyes to be saved and to quit their ignorance and the wrong teachings they were taught."(4)

This is what the Letter [to Diognetus] means when it says that Christians are set apart by their love. This love makes no sense apart from Jesus Christ. It shows how Christian faith can turn ordinary men and women into heroes. Christians in the Middle East offer us a powerful lesson in how to live as Jesus lived. And their suffering also challenges us to come to their aid.

The Coptic martyrs and their families offer us two lessons. First, the religious liberty that Americans take for granted is actually quite rare in the world. Even in the United States, our freedom to preach, teach, and witness our Catholic faith is only as strong as our willingness to live the faith vigorously in our own lives, and to work and fight for it in the public square. The Church has no shortage of critics eager to smother her voice and constrain her mission.

But second, we can never forget that we fight for the God of Love. We need to engage with that spirit even those who hate us. The Coptic martyrs and their families—like the early Christians-call us to claim the more excellent way. They remind us that we should bless our persecutors and pray for their conversion, that we should even be thankful for the opportunity to suffer for the sake of Christ. Only that kind of radical love can, in the end, bring victory not on the world's terms, but the victory of genuine peace in Christ.”

-Archbishop Charles J. Chaput, Strangers in a Strange Land: Living the Catholic Faith in a Post-Christian World 

—

(4) Quotations and narrative taken from Mark Woods, “Brother of Slain Coptic Christians Thanks ISIS for Including Their Words of Faith in Murder Video,” Christianity Today, February 18, 2015.

[justwinginglife]

Royal Pains

You had thought that the title was a joke at first.

Recently you’d received a letter in the mail congratulating you on becoming the new duchess of a small island colony in the south, but you hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Sylus was always pulling ridiculous stunts, paying whatever copious amount of money would allow him to name the new planet that had been discovered after you, or to have your name painted across his newly purchased yacht, or to buy the hotel you were staying the night in and have it renamed so that your name was perched atop it in big, glowing letters. 

So when you received the news regarding his newest acquisition, you simply thought to yourself, “There he goes again, buying more things in my name,” and smiled to yourself, before depositing the papers atop the rest of your legal documents, claiming you the owner of this and that, thinking nothing more of it. 

It wasn’t until Sylus proposed a trip to go see the island that you realized how mistaken you were. 

“My lady.” He held out a hand to help you out of the jet. 

Thinking him humorous, you decided to play along, taking his hand with all seriousness. “Ah, yes, my lord. How very kind of you to assist me.” And when your feet had properly landed on firm ground, you even gave him a curtsy to finish off your performance. 

He gave a light laugh before continuing with the charade. “Excellent form, Your Grace.”

You raised your chin to him, straightening as best as you could. “Why, of course. As you know, I was raised from birth to be this land’s Duchess and as such, I have always been held to high standards, so I expect my form to be nothing less than pure perfection.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “I see Your Ladyship is also quite humble.” 

You rolled your eyes, shoulders slouching again as you broke character. “Alright, alright- I’m done with the whole prim and proper thing now. C’mon, I want you to show me around!” Your eyes glimmered with excitement. “Isn’t that the reason we’re here?”

He smiled warmly, eyes gazing fondly at your enthusiastic expression. “Yes, love. I wanted to show you all the sights this island has to offer.” 

Taking you by the hand, he led you through the forests and meadows, over bridges and through tunnels, until you’d been over every hill, admired every flower, and pet every creature you laid eyes on. Every inch of this island was covered in life, covered in light, and every inch of it was yours. And for no reason in particular. Just because you had someone who loved spoiling you as much as he loved you.  

Eventually, the two of you made your way into town. 

You were so focused on oohing and ahhing all the quaint houses and little gardens, that you almost didn’t notice every villager staring at you. Almost. And it wasn’t until you dragged Sylus to a nearby stall to purchase some sweets from the local baker that you understood why they were all watching you so intently. 

“You’re the new lady of the land, aren’t you?” He asked as he bagged up your treats.

You blinked at him, gears rotating in your mind, as you tried to figure out what on earth he could possibly mean. Then it hit you. The Duchess thing. That was probably what they called whoever had ownership over the land. Made sense. It was an old fashioned town. Titles like that were still being used around here. “Well, technically, my fiancee here is the one who bought the land, so I guess that would make him the… ‘lord of the land,’ I guess? But yes, we are the new owners, and we are very happy to be here.”

You could tell Sylus was biting back a laugh but you just chalked it up to him being thoroughly entertained by the whole situation.

“Your fiance?” The baker gave Sylus a lookover. “I didn’t hear anything about there being a new Duke, just a new Duchess.”

“That’s because there isn’t a Duke.” Sylus confirmed.

“Or Duchess, really.” You added on.

The baker’s brows furrowed as he turned back to face you. “But you’re the new owner, aren’t you? So you’re the new Duchess.”

You could tell he wasn’t going to let this matter go and you really just wanted to disappear over some hilltop with Sylus and enjoy your snacks together in peace, so you decided to give in. “I- yes, yeah. That’s me. I’m the new Duchess. Caught me. Nice to meet you.”

Upon hearing your admission, more villagers started to crowd around you, to ask when you intended to move in, to ask your thoughts on how they could run the town better, to ask if you’d attend their baby’s christening or their daughter’s wedding or the unveiling of the new building in town. All things you did not have the answer to and did not know why you were being asked in the first place. 

After answering as best you could, as politely as you could, you gave a proper little wave (a wave you thought -or simply hoped- was befitting of a Duchess) before snatching Sylus’ hand and scurrying off with him. As much as you liked the idea of playing nobility, you were getting tired of having to keep up the charade. Especially with random people you didn’t know. And on your vacation. You honestly just wanted some alone time with your fiance and it seemed like you weren’t going to get it if you stayed in town any longer. 

“My, my. It appears the new Duchess is shy.” Sylus teased. 

You pouted. “Syyyy. Enough with the Duchess stuff. We both know I’m not royalty.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Are you so sure about that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sy, I think I would know if I were secretly a Duchess my whole life.”

“Not your whole life. Just recently.”

You laughed. “What do you mean just recently? I think I would have remembered someone dubbing me ‘Lady of the Land.’” Then you stopped in your tracks. “Sy…you didn’t.”

Sylus didn’t even bother to hide how pleased he was. “I didn’t what?”

Those eyes. That damn smile. He absolutely did what you thought you did. Suddenly, you began to quickly rummage through your purse. Where had you put it? Where was that damn letter? Finally your fingers caught the edge of an envelope and you yanked it out hastily. Skimming over the words again, your jaw dropped as your eyes landed on the information you were looking for. 

He snickered into his hand.

“Sylus! You BOUGHT me a title as a FREAKIN DUCHESS???”

“Guilty as charge, milady.” He gave a pronounced bow. 

You flicked him in the forehead once he’d bent low enough. “And WHY did you buy me a title??”

He shrugged like it was only natural. “I thought I might as well since I was already buying the land.”

“And WHY did you buy me the land??”

Another shrug. “I thought I might as well since I was already buying the castle.”

“And WHY did you- wait. What castle?” You’d explored every inch of this island; you think you would’ve remembered seeing a castle in the distance. 

“That castle.” He turned you around, and there, hidden at the edge of the forest, was the castle of your dreams. 

You stumbled towards it in a daze. 

It was just like walking into a fairytale. There was a large courtyard with a decorative fountain in the center, ornate details carved into its stone. Hedges lined the entrance, making it feel like your own private paradise. A grand staircase lead up to an even grander set of double doors, and past those doors, there were towers to climb, rooms to admire, foyers to gape at, and even more proof of Sylus’ love with every awestruck step you took. 

“You…you didn’t have to do all of this. Why…why did you buy me a castle?” You murmured under your breath, eyes still glazed over, as though you were still wading through a dreamscape. 

“You said you wanted to get married in a castle, didn’t you?” He mused. 

You blinked. 

You had said that. Once. When you had first started dating. Oh. Oh, this man. If he wasn’t careful, you’d just marry him right here and now, with no one to witness your union but the sun streaming in through the windows and the birds flying by. 

“Do you like it?” He asked softly.

“Like it?” You let out a laugh. “I love it, baby. I love you.”

“Oh, good, so you’re not still mad about the Duchess thing.” He teased. “Because you do still have to go to Moira’s baby’s christening and Sheila’s daughter’s wedding and-”

“Oh, no, no, no. If I’m the Duchess, then by default, you’re the Duke. I’m not ‘Ladying’ over this land without my lord. You got me into this mess, now it’s your mess too.” 

“It’s a shame, I only bought one title. It’s not enough for the two of us.” He grinned.

“Then, I guess it’s a good thing I’ve got money too, now isn’t it? Better straighten your crown, pretty boy. You’re stuck with me for life.”

Taglist: @pixelcafe-network @minasfwoopyponytail @ouiouimochi @tbaluver

[mommyslittlebird]

Alright, another professor Wanda drabble because I’m utterly whipped for her.

“I think spoken Russian is going to send me to an early grave,” You complained. “I’m good on the written and comprehension sections but the oral pronunciations…” You groaned dramatically, tossing your ‘Russian 101’ book out in front of you and dropping your arms so you were laying prone on bed.

Wanda picked up the book, reading through the dog-eared page you had been studying. “Is this the one you’re struggling with?” She pointed to one of the longer words at the top of the page. It had been twisting your tongue for hours.

You nodded. Wanda placed the book back in your hands and sat down next to you. “You know all the syllables. Just say it slowly, don’t try to cram the sounds together, just say them one at a time.”

You propped yourself back up on your elbows, squinting and bending forward to study the page. You sounded out the word slowly. Each syllable felt like an entire word of its own. It was by no means an elegant attempt, but it was technically correct.

Wanda slide down on the bed so she could press a kiss onto your lower back. “See?” She said, nuzzling the downward curve of her spine. “You’re getting it. Keep going. Try this one here.” She reached around you to point out a sentence at the top of the next page.

You spoke the words awkwardly and slowly, mentally trying to translate the foreign lettering into sounds. Wanda started tracing her way back up your spine, placing gentle kisses along each ridge.

“You’re a lot better at this than you think you are,” Wanda assured. “I could’ve never guessed this was your first semester taking Russian if I wasn’t the one teaching it to you.”

“Thank you, professor,” you teased. “I believe you’re to blame for my accelerated studies.” You could feel Wanda’s smile curl against your back.

“I suppose that is my job,” She teased, “making sure you excel.”

“Well then you’ll be devastated to know I have someone who’s serving as a terrible distraction to my studies.” You smirked, arching your back against her mouth.

“Mmm,” Wanda hummed. “I’m sure whoever it is knows that you work too hard. And I’d bet she knows that you’re brilliant and you could’ve passed with flying colors without even opening the book.”

“As if she herself isn’t known for working herself to the bone,” you retorted.

“All the more reason to provide her with a wonderful distraction.” Wanda bit gently at the spot your neck met your shoulder. You rolled your head back, mouth falling open in a silent groan. “We can continue your studies, if you wish. Repeat after me: YA ves' tvoy.” (I am yours.)

You reached one hand back behind you, burying it in Wanda’s thick brown hair. You drew her ruby red lips back to your neck, encouraging more kisses and nips from the older woman. “YA ves' tvoy,” you repeated with easy confidence. These words came far easier to you than the long and complicated ones you were pulling from your books.

“You speak beautifully, sweet girl.” Wanda sucked at the skin behind your ear.

Your eyes fluttered at sensation. “Devochka milaya,” you said. “Sweet girl.”

“Mhm.” Wanda did not pull her mouth away from the soft skin of your neck. Your words weren’t entirely accurate, as the adjective came after the noun in Russian, but she was in no mood to be pedantic at the moment.

She adjusted her position on the bed, moving to straddle your hips rather than lying beside you. You whined when she pulled away, already missing the warm breath against your neck. The whines turned into moans when Wanda ground against her hips your ass. “I want to hear you say it again. Tell me you are mine,” she demanded.

You obeyed. “YA ves' tvoy,” you said again. The words came even more natural the second time around. “I am yours. I am all yours, my love.”

“YA ves' tvoy, moya lyubov,” She translated, adding in the ‘my love’.

You giggled. “Do you plan to fuck me until I can recite the entirety of the Russian language?”

Wanda chuckled mischievously, bending so her mouth was mere inches from your ear. “My love, by the time I’m done with you, you won’t even remember English.”

Professor Wanda Collection

[adventures-in-mangaland]

I'm going with 10 All Time Classics from the Captain America (MCU) fandom. I mean, they're all classics to me, at least. In no particular order:

1. This, You Protect by owlet

First installment in the Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail series, which are all amazing. It's a “Bucky escaping Hydra and rebuilding his sense of self” fic, which he does while spying on Steve. With eventual Avengers Family and a lovely cast of OCs bonding with Bucky in the meantime. It has a very distinctive perspective and writing style; Bucky's in constant internal (and sometimes accidentally external) dialogue with himself, making it hilarious and tragic all at the same time. I love it. I've recently been getting into The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells and this Bucky has a similar sassy-but-vulnerable vibe? Read this if you like that, anyway.

2. The One Who Knows by Dira Sudis (dsudis)

This is a Political Animals AU, in that no-powers Steve is inserted into the Political Animals world and Bucky is TJ. Discusses being outed and depression but is ultimately hopeful. The author is one of my all time faves and has written lots of great stories for this and many other fandoms.

3. Blue Scales by chaya

Steve is a merman AU. He's still Captain America, though. It's crack with heart, I love it.

Best line: "May your scales and your love story be our weird secret forever.”

4. Our Lingering Frost by eyres

AU where Bucky is rescued from Hydra in the 50s (?) and so is around for Steve to be found.

5. Assets Out of Containment by follow_the_sun

It's a classic to *me*, OK? Bucky goes undercover at Jurassic World just as that movie's plot kicks off. They're Hydra dinosaurs! It's just great. Also has a podfic and crossovers with Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.

6. Not Easily Conquered (series) by dropdeaddream and WhatAreFears

Some of the greatest fanfiction I've ever read, the whole series is epic. Anyway, it's a "Steve doesn't go into the ice" AU with added queer angst when (never sent) love letters from Bucky resurface. I particularly like the second installment in the series The Thirteen Letters, which are just Bucky's letters and are insanely well-written.

7. to memory now I can't recall by Etharei

Time travel AU! Featuring post-CATWS Bucky accidentally switching places with CATFA era Bucky.

8. If Wishing Made It So by Leveragehunters (Monkeygreen)

Genie!Bucky AU! This author is great at writing AUs with fantasy/genre elements, it was hard to choose. They've also written an excellent werewolf!Steve AU and a horse!Steve AU that I really love.

9. Into That Good Night by Nonymos

An Interstellar AU! Very angsty and tragic but with an eventual happy ending.

10. Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square by Speranza

Speranza must be one of the best writers in the fandom, so it was hard to pick just one of their fics. Other strong contenders were All the Angels and the Saints and The Fifties, so check those out too! But this one has a special place in my heart. Steve, Tony and Natasha accidentally time travel to WW2 London, leading to an accidental run-in with CATFA-era Bucky. The author does tragic and romantic time travel tropes so well, but with a happy ending.

I now realise that most of these are AUs, so here’s a bonus rec for a non-AU in-universe story that’s severely underrated and deserves more love:

+1

Heart, Have No Pity on this House of Bone by Sena

This story follows Bucky in-action in the Pacific Theatre. It’s very well written and, from what I can tell, well researched. Steve only appears in Bucky’s imagination and the story focuses on the horrors of war rather than romance, but it’s gripping! And it explores unrequited love, being closeted and period-typical homophobia, which I also enjoyed. I’m still holding out hope for a sequel.

[kazutteoks]

GO FOR IT! 𝜗𝜚 ; 28. take what belongs to you (5.32k wc)

the one were heeseung and you have been rivals since you started hogwarts, and only takes one event that will turn your world upside down to realize what heeseung's presence in your life truly means for you. you have to do something! you just have to go for it!

pairing: ravenclaw prefect!lee heeseung x ravenclaw prefect f!reader

a/n: taglist open! lmk if you want to be added<3

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆. 𐙚 ₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ °. ₊˚⊹

ℳr. ashbourne.

father, it's been a while since the last letter i wrote.

my apologies, i've let my emotions take control of me and when it all hit me in the face i thought i could just avoid it. but that didn't solve anything, it made me feel worse, it made me feel useless and unable to handle things the way you would have.

these last few months i've realized i still have a long way to become the head of the family you expect me to be. even when i assured you i could handle it, the load, the pressure, the responsibilities... i didn't realize the difficulties i would have until the first obstacle appeared.

she appeared out of nowhere, when i thought i was at the height of my best days at the castle, and the only thing she told me was that i should watch my back.

and i ignored it, i ignored for months the little thorn in the center of my stomach that told me something was wrong because i thought it was stupid.

because i thought 'who would be so stupid to take seriously the threat of someone you'd never seen in your life?'

now i know even the smallest warning or threat can carry a lot of weight if you're not careful at all.

then someone's small mistake caused me what i thought at the time was the biggest loss of my life, my excellent reputation with the professors, my dignity when i was yelled at in front of my friends and classmates, being called irresponsible and reckless for something i now realize i did right.

because now i know if i hadn't done anything at all, the same thing would've happened, but i'd be aware i didn't do anything.

but i did it. i saved the whole class and the guy who made the mistake. and i know headmaster doyoung wrote to you and spoke highly of me, as he always does.

and you didn't say anything. you didn't mention it in your letters, or ask me at home. i still don't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

but i didn't see it at the time. i let it consume me and make me feel stupid.

and by letting that happen, i didn't notice how she was making good on her threat.

i didn't watch my back.

and that huge mistake caused me to disappoint you when my hogwarts letter arrived without a badge, caused grandma to call me a useless little wretch, and caused her to call you a failure as a father.

i apologize once again, this time for causing you disappointment, and for causing you problems with your mother.

i thought too much about it, and i remembered mom once told you "all mistakes have solution, and if they don't, then you look for another way to fix it."

and that's the whole point of this letter, dad. tell you i'm going to fix my own mistake, and what i can't fix i'm going to amend.

i still have a long way and many things to learn to become like you but i hope next time i see you i can finally stand by your side, no longer as your little daughter, but as your future successor.

see you at winter break.

y/n ashbourne.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ⋆. 𐙚 ˚ - read more undercut! ˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ ₊

“are you ready? everyone will be waiting for us in the great hall.” wonyoung pulled you out of your thoughts after you tied your letter to your father's owl's leg and let it go.

“yeah... yeah uhm can you go first? i'll catch up with you in a few minutes outside the principal's office...” you avoided the black-haired girl's gaze, knowing she'd probably figured out how you felt.

and you weren't wrong, when you heard her sigh you confirmed it.

“baby, everything's going to be okay. and i'm not telling you this cause 'i already know it', i'm telling you this cause no matter what happens today, i won't let her hurt you or heeseung. i'll not allow it, none of us will.”

wonyoung takes your hand and with the same warmth she has given you every day of your life, she squeezes it gently, giving you a soft, kind, comforting look.

your heart stops pounding a little, letting you breathe more easily. and you're grateful your best friend always has that effect on you.

“i know, wonyo. and i'm grateful you're always here, taking care of me and protecting me... it's just, i don't know... sending that letter to my father... meant taking a responsibility i'm honestly afraid to take...” you murmur, looking down at the union of your hands.

talking about your feelings with wonyoung had always been so easy, not because she already knew how you felt in one way or another, but simply because that was the effect she had on people. even if you were ashamed to show your weaknesses, with her that didn't matter.

wonyoung sighs again, now with a feeling of nostalgia overflowing from her voice. “being an adult is scary, isn't it? we used to play in the jang manor teahouse while our parents were working at the ministry.”

you're immediately transported back to those days, when all you did was play at wonyoung's house, waiting for your parents to pick you up at the end of the day.

your smile never left your face back then.

“we used to believe life was that easy, but as we grew up, we were burdened with the responsibilities we'll ultimately take when they retire.” you both smile weakly avoiding looking at each other.

because even though you don't say it, you know what you mean. 'as we grew up', but everything happened after your mother passed away when you were twelve. something not only affected you and your father, but the jang's as well.

“...i shouldn't really be telling you this but... that's still a long way off, baby. and we're going to make mistakes as hell, over and over again.” you stiffened at the mention of that. you know wonyoung is very strict with herself and what she shares of her knowledge, especially with you, who used to hate knowing mistakes were inevitable. “but we're going to be okay, cause that's part of growing up, of learning how to be what they want us to be, and even better than that.”

questions catch in your throat as you bite your inner cheek to stop them.

we'll be able to fix our future mistakes?

we'll ever be as good as they hope?

they'll be proud of us?

he'll ever be proud of me?

i'll be able to be happy with the life i'll choose?

but your voice doesn't come out because you're afraid to ask, but you're more afraid of the answers you might receive.

“stop thinking about the future, think about your present, about passing your exams, enjoying our last year here, taking the justice you deserve” wonyoung takes you by the shoulders and shakes you a little “and for the love of god go on a date with heeseung already!”

her last sentence surprises you so much you end up laughing from the bottom of your heart.

“i'm tired of the cards always reminding me how he feels even when i don't ask about him! riki and i agree he uses cards like the characters in victorious: 'today snow ignored my messages again. status: depressed' my gosh, just use your side on twitter and leave my workspace alone!” wonyoung also laughs while complaining about the boy.

you know she's not really upset, she probably just finds it oddly tedious how he always ends up sneaking into her readings without meaning to.

“we will! we will! i already told you we agreed after this we'll have a real date.”

“good! i hope he has something wonderful planned or i'm going to punch him.” the girl makes a fist with her hand and you laugh again, the tense and melancholic air disperse. “feeling better now?” she caresses your hair with a light smile and finally let go your hand when you've nodded confidently. “we'll be waiting for you at the principal's office, mkay?”

“thanks wonyo.”

and the last thing you see her do before leaving the dorm is wave with her hand and give you a wink.

you sit down at your desk in front of the window again, now more relaxed than you had been in the last few months.

let's just focus on enjoy the present, and make that weirdo pay for all the damage she's done.

[somewhere in the castle that same morning]

“so, she just has to take this and...?”

“yup, needs to be cornered after taking it. don't worry, i'll be there to contain any kind of damage.”

“okay, okay...”

“...you have a plan, right?”

“of course professor, i didn't spend two weeks of my life listening to her, rambling about her boring life, trying to gain her trust just for nothing. i'm just... nervous. since the plan started i realized this doesn't just involve heeseung and y/n as victims, and if all goes well... she'll probably be sent to azkaban.”

“that'll depend on her mental state and how serious her... crimes are. and there are worse places than azkaban, you know? st. mungo's one.”

“doesn't makes me feel better.”

“...you have a very kind heart, yeosang. but you know that girl has to be stopped... 'she' probably isn't herself anymore, not if she used the wrong ancient magic.”

“i know, and that's the saddest thing. desires can be very dangerous for oneself.”

“funny you say that, she and y/n had the same desire. and they showed the two sides of the coin.”

“...you really aren't worried about your own student's future, are you?”

“well, after seeing my best friend in a trance for the last six months, where he stopped behaving like himself to defend tooth and nail the person who probably hexed him, doesn't exactly makes me appreciate her, you know?... i just want seonghwa to go back to being the gryffindor headmaster uselessly brave and bold idiot he always was, the one that students appreciated so much. and that's all, that's why i decided to help you with this... the rest, principal can decide for herself.”

“yeah... i guess i understand. i'm sorry.”

“it's okay kiddo, let's just focus on getting this over today.”

“well, wish me luck.”

“who is going to need it is her.”

you open the door of the principal's office softly, hoping to see some of your friends or heeseung's friends there. but you're only greeted with the back of your worst nightmare.

she turns around when she hears the sound of the door and after a few seconds her eyes widen in surprise, and with, what you know, is false fear.

“h-hey y/n! haven't seen you around so much, how have you been?” she uses a weak tone to ask and you roll your eyes, finally entering the office and closing the door behind you.

“i don't know, you tell me. apparently, according to you, i've been spending my time pulling your hair and pushing you in the halls like kindergarteners.” you cross your arms, looking at her with boredom. “no one's here, stop pretending.”

she stares at you before easily straightening her posture, now looking at you with a flat, emotionless face.

her real face.

“sorry y/nie, heeseung made me so angry the other day. you were just collateral damage.” she comes closer until is in front of you, your skin prickles and you want to move away but you stay glued to your place.

you know showing fear will only make her feel stronger, and you've had enough of that.

“sure i was. you don't think about how busy someone might be for your tantrums, you just do what you want.”

she laughs as if you had told her the best joke. the sound of her laughter turns your stomach, you don't like being alone with her.

“c'mon silly! how busy a simple prefect like you can be? oh y/n you're sooo funny!”

she's about to run her fingers through your loose hair but you take a step back, subtle, but she notices.

“you underestimate how busy the heiress of a great family name like mine can be. i'm always busy, of course a simple muggleborn can't understand that, right?” you hate that, you hate talking about someone's blood status but if you're going to piss her off you're going to do it right.

and if looks could kill, you would already be turned to ashes by her own hand.

“... simple muggleborn?” she whispers taking another step forward, now you can even feel her breathing and your nausea increases “do you know what a simple muggleborn can do? your father can tell you, can't he?... bet he still has the mark” you raise an eyebrow, inside wanting to scream for help.

you have no idea how the conversation led to this.

“i'm surprised at how easily you think you resemble that... man. but you're wrong about one thing. he wasn't just any muggleborn, he was the heir of slytherin. but you are-...? sorry- what was your last name again?” you frown in mock confusion, all you get from her is a lethal glare.

you laugh, moving away from her, you approach the principal's desk and something catches your attention.

you stare at the only cup there, next to a couple of parchments that looked very familiar.

“...hey, muggleborn. come here.” you think it's funny to see her reluctantly approach you, you can see her internal struggle as she doesn't want to follow your 'orders' but she does it anyway.

because in her head, she still sees herself inferior to you, just by mentioning your last name and your blood status.

“if that badge you worked so hard to get really gives you the power to do whatever you want, do this, drink all in that cup.”

“...what?” she looks at you like you've said something completely stupid. and it probably is, but since she's giving you the power to command her you're not going to waste it.

“you heard me. take that drink, i've heard the principal drinks it to get rid of wrinkles and avoid looking old. who knows, maybe you'll gain more popularity among the students that way.” you raise your eyebrows expectantly, you watch her hesitate and look around, you know she's really considering it.

fucking desperate as hell.

“what? don't tell me you're scared” you laugh, letting your head fall back “hmm, that's a shame. i really thought you were doing what you wanted, guess calling you head girl isn't that great” you take the cup while murmuring “more for me then.”

but before you could even bring the cup to your lips she snatches it from you, and downs the whole thing in one gulp.

you let out a satisfied whistle when you see her place the now empty cup on the desk and then walk around it to sit in the principal's chair.

you let her enjoy her moment of greatness, because it just made everything so much easier for you.

she doesn't even notice you've pulled out your wand.

“i don't understand your childish games, y/n. but this isn't a big deal, doesn't scare me. after all, you'll soon see me sitting in an even more important office than this one.”

“and you shouldn't do willingly what an enemy tells you to do.” these are your last words before you charm the chair so she can't get up.

you put your wand back in the case at your waist, without saying another word.

“what the...? hey!! y/n what the fuck is this!!?? free me right now, i'm not fucking playing!!” you watch her writhe in despair for another minute. you enjoy the moment, even if it's not half of what you've felt these past few months.

“you think we were playing? honey, i haven't even started” you laugh, crossing your arms before wiping all traces of amusement off your face, letting her see the completely serious look you had “and now you're going to start talking. first, what the hell did you do to headmaster seonghwa and how can you undo it?”

she laughs hysterically still trying to wriggle out of the chair. you can see traces of sweat forming on her forehead.

“and you think i'm going to tell you that easily!? you're a complete son of a...-”

for a brief second she choked on her own tongue before looking at you with terrified eyes that screamed 'what the fuck did you do to me?'

“...i-i hexed him. i used one of the last old books of d-dark magic left in the restricted section of the library... wa-wasn't an imperius but was the closest thing to it. my shitty magic isn't great for a... t-the effect only lasts a week, so i-i've been h-hexing him constantly for the past six months. c-can't be undone, you need to wait for it to end on its own, and th-that will happen t-tomorrow.”

"...good girl. see? people understand each other by cooperating" you smile falsely at her, though your hands are shaking and your whole body is bristling at her confession.

“i'm going to fucking kill you, y/n. you better set me free now.” her voice comes out hoarse and deep, and you're tempted to take a step back in pure horror, but you know there's no turning back. you have to keep going.

“yeah yeah. now, besides seonghwa, did you hexed anyone else with that book?”

she shakes her head hard, you can see her trying to bite her tongue but as soon as she opens her mouth she starts talking non-stop again.

“of fucking course i did. i hexed the professors to cheat and raise my grades. i hexed the other headmasters when they were voting for the new headgirl and made them choose me. i hexed your stupid little gryffindor friend when she challenged my authority, that damn bitch, even when she ended up day after day in the hospital wing she never stopped acting like i wasn't her damn boss.”

your heart aches hearing that. you'd heard jake's theory from heeseung's mouth, and wonhee had confirmed it the night you'd talked to your friends.

however, wonhee just said 'it's okay, lee's are strong, we are gryffindors, you know?' but hearing it from the very mouth that hurt her... it fills you with rage, it turns your stomach. there are so many ways you want to hurt her and you don't even know where to start.

“i hexed a bunch of students to praise me and badmouth you in the hallways, and i was the one who hexed myung jaehyun that day in dada class so he would make a mistake and you would get punished for being an idiot, and i could be praised by seonghwa in front of you.” she laughs, has a scared look for confessing all that but she can't stop talking.

“...you really put a lot of effort into this, didn't you?... why did you get so obsessed with me? i wasn't the only one who applied for headgirl.” you genuinely ask, it seems irrational and impossible to believe everything she did just to harm you, not physically, but emotionally and mentally.

“i know, i knew. but them? all weak idiots, they were no obstacle for me. but you, oh you. you didn't even blink when i warned you to watch your back. everyone adored you, 'y/n this, y/n that' fuck! not a single day went by that i didn't hear your fucking name accompanied by a wonderful compliment. pride, affection, admiration. i wanted... no, i needed to take everything away from you and leave you with nothing. you already had your stupid pureblood name, you didn't need anything else.” at that point she had stopped fighting your charm to get up, but her gaze was no less threatening, it even seemed to carry more hatred than before. “i knew wouldn't be easy but i did it, i snatched everything out of your hands and you acted just like the depressed bitch i expected... but that motherfucker, heeseung, if only i could've hexed him too, ugh! bet seeing me with him would've driven you completely crazy, right? you're that predictable, you damn bitch.” she laughs, mocking you. for a moment, the thought 'what if...' passes through your head.

what would've happened if she had also hexed heeseung? would you've discovered something in the end? would you've had the guts on your own to face her and your fears like you did today?

delving into that possibility terrifies you, because in that scenario none of the memories you created in the last few months would've ever happened.

“... you're fucking insane” you whisper, taking a step back. you feel the air in the room getting heavier, making it hard to breathe. “what else-... what else did you learn from that book?”

your question seems to wake her up. deep down you know her desperate, power-hungry, even astonished gaze will haunt you for a few nights when you go to bed.

because you recognize it behind all of that, the terror.

the terror that seeps into her voice, into every distorted feature of her face, into her dilated irises, into the beads of sweat that run down her neck.

“you'd be amazed at all the knowledge that man possessed, y/n. i learned to do dark magic, so much now i'm part of it, the darkness.” she knows there is no way out, and she doesn't seem to know if she likes it or if she's scared.

or if she regrets what she discovered.

“the darkness speaks to me, it tells me what to do to achieve greatness. can you believe it? someone like me can do it! even with- even with my broken and useless magic! i-i just need... i just need...!” you begin to back away when you notice a black mist begin to form around her, you're sure she'll break your charm and free herself but your hands don't seem to react to take your wand to protect yourself from whatever is about to happen.

“that's enough.”

but like a flash of light, yeosang enters the principal's office quickly. the air feels light again and when you look back at the girl in the chair, she's already back in her victim role, whining, crying and muttering for help.

you felt stupid for pitying her seconds ago.

she chose this y/n, she doesn't regret it at all even if she's scared of the shit she got herself into.

“oh yeosang, i'm so glad y-you're here! i don't know what's wrong with y/n, w-why she did this to me! i'm so scared yeosangie, please h-help me!” she whimpers, watching yeosang approach you.

the boy puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes gently “we'll take it from here. you did well y/n.” he whispers, gently guiding you to the door. you wonder what he means by 'we' but your answer is right in front of your eyes when you see the principal just entering.

the white-haired woman says nothing, but gives you a confident wink before walking over to where the criminal was.

“ye-yeosang? principal? you-you're going to free me, right?”

you don't hear anything else when you step out into the hallway.

you're in a trance and you only come out of it when you feel someone else's hand on your other shoulder. when you look up, you meet the kind and gentle gaze of professor yunho, but there's something else, something you recognize as gratitude.

“you did very well, y/n. thanks to you, seonghwa and your classmates are safe now.” the magnitude of your professor's words seems to not enter your head, because you don't know what to say, you don't know how to react.

that... that was it? are we really going to be okay now? i do it right?

“told you my plan was perfect, professor. snowy is smart enough to understand what she had to do just by seeing her last year veritaserum essays and a cup.”

your gaze shifts to your right, you see your friends, heeseung's friends, and him, all looking at you expectantly. not knowing whether to celebrate or worry about your lack of reaction.

“y'all should leave the castle for now, clear your minds. y'all did well, as your professor i'm proud, and as someone worried about his best friend i'm grateful with you.” yunho ruffles your and yeosang's hair, and you laugh a little, still puzzled.

“professor, headmaster seonghwa... will he be okay after so many months of...?” wonhee takes a step forward unsure of how to approach the subject, but the concern in her voice overflows. jungwon and jake behind her have the same expression.

“...i'll make sure he gets better. don't worry, he'll be fine.”

you all went to hogsmeade, and while everyone else entered the leaky cauldron, you and heeseung stayed behind.

he said they showed their memories to the principal, and she told them some seventh year prefects had been, in fact, gathering testimonies about strange things about the head girl with the other students, said the pile of parchments they had gathered looked like one of those huge, heavy books yunho asked for every year.

you briefly remembered passing by and seeing hanbin and jiwoong talking with other students in the main courtyard, parchments and quills in their hands. you wondered if heeseung had seen them at some point, too.

then, he explained how yeosang and yunho suddenly came and asked them to leave the office for a moment, and they walked around the halls a few minutes without saying anything.

seemed like even without understanding anything, the principal knew what the two of them were planning because she didn't question them.

he said then, they returned to the office, and you two were already there, everyone listened to you, and her.

they gasped after hearing how long seonghwa had been hexed. your friends tensed up when she confessed she was really hurting wonhee. heeseung's friends almost created a barrier in front of him, even when there was no danger, when she said he might've been hexed too. everyone felt the change in the air when you asked your last question.

heeseung swore it was the first time in his entire life he felt so scared when yeosang pushed them all behind him while he, yunho and the principal took out their wands.

and when wonyoung and riki tensed up and said someone had to intervene or she was going to hurt you, yeosang was already coming through the door to get you out of there.

you don't remember much after that.

your mind kept vividly replaying the expressions on that lunatic's face and the only thing that brought you back to earth was heeseung's hand squeezing yours every so often.

by the time you all returned to the castle it was already dusk, and everything was... silent, not a stifling silence, but one that for the first time in a long time you allowed yourself to enjoy.

you still couldn't say for sure it was all over, but you were absolutely sure of one thing.

at least tonight, you'd sleep completely well for twelve hours straight.

a week passed.

you never saw her again, but rumors filled every corner of the castle.

some said she was now in azkaban, others said she was in st. mungo's because she had lost her mind. some others said she had been exiled from the magical world and had her memories erased.

but professors never spoke about it, in fact, they avoided talking about her.

new quidditch season began, and gryffindor defeated hufflepuff in a landslide thanks to wonhee, who returned with renewed energy.

each and every student who was hexed by her went through check-ups and tests in the hospital wing to ensure they were okay.

seonghwa now is on temporary leave as he is hospitalized at st. mungo's. nobody talks much about it, but yunho seems calmer, so everyone knows there's nothing to worry about. the professor's substitute is quite strict and fills all of you with assignments, so you can't wait for seonghwa to fully recover and come back.

finally the castle was back to normal and everything was settling into its proper place.

you still hadn't received a reply from your father to your last letter. but it's okay, you're calm now.

dinners in the great hall were once again filled with bustle, something you had missed after spending the last month dining in your dorm.

“silence! silence please! there's something i want to announce” the principal's voice creates silence among the students who look at her attentively, she smiles satisfied “due to various... situations in the recent months, there was a fraud in our votes to elect the head girl of the castle. so we voted again after resolving the fraud. this results were made with the same decisions we had in mind for the previous votes, so the headmasters and i want that to be clear. the new head girl we'll have starting today is not a replacement, she is in fact, the one whom the title belonged all this time.” the professors sitting at the long table nodded in agreement almost in unison. you looked down at your plate and took a deep breath.

it's okay if it's not me, the important thing has already been done. it's okay, this time it's really okay.

“please, give a warm round of applause to y/n ashbourne, the real head girl of hogwarts this year!”

ravenclaw table erupted in cheers and shouts, making you jump in your seat in surprise. heeseung beside you laughed, and you looked at him with wide eyes. your heart was pounding so hard you were sure it would jump out of your chest.

“s-she said my name... she said my name right?” you looked around, at your friends, heeseung's friends, the other students, the professors, the principal, they all had smiles on their faces as they applauded you.

you can't help but remember the day of sorting ceremony. everyone applauded her, but you didn't feel the same excitement, the warmth, the smiles, the shouts.

so you knew, she didn't get any of that because it was a stolen moment, a moment that was yours.

heeseung took your hand and squeezed it, always so warm, so gentle, so full of affection.

“you have to get up and go over there. principal's calling you” and was indeed true, when you turned around the principal was holding a badge in her hand and moving it from side to side looking at you. “go for it y/n, take what belongs to you.”

your eyes filled with tears and before you knew it your body moved on its own, hugging him tightly by the neck. not a second later he hugged you back.

“thank you for never stopping believing in me. i don't know what i would've done without you.” you murmured before separating from the hug, you stood up and then the shouts and applause increased, you didn't care everyone saw you with red eyes and wet cheeks, your smile never left your face as you approached the principal.

you let her pin the badge on your uniform, feeling the weight of the silver on your heart. you looked down, the silver and blue shining brightly, greeting you.

a new badge, freshly made, for a new beginning.

for your new beginning.

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a/n: i'd planned to write only three scenes and suddenly BOOM 5k words hehe sorry i got carried away, anyways, IT'S FINALLY OVER (just this arc lmao, get ready cuz angst isn't over yet😈 but hey! i have good news, you'll see a down DOWN BAD snowyyy :b)

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[driedposies]

“My little Nepenthe,” {CHAPTER TWO: Let Your Branches Fork My Veins}

Chapter summary: You receive a letter after a gift exchange that sends you on a witch hunt.

Warnings: Explicit language, sexual content in later chapters (18+ only!), violence, bodily injury, torture, character death.

Chapter lyric: "Poison Tree" by Grouper

Word count: 6.4k

Notes: Taglist at the bottom. If you wish to be added, please leave a comment!

The snow that crusted together the Sidra behind the River House felt almost like a metaphor for what you were experiencing within. The usual chill settled under your skin, but there was something more. Shame, for your actions. Worry, about what the consequences could entail. But most of all, there was that prolonged sinking feeling you had every time someone from the Inner Circle would even look at you. Waiting for the accusations and punishment you’d surely receive when they found out. 

You were thankful Rhys didn’t rake his abilities through another’s mind without explicit permission, otherwise, he’d be entirely privy to you slapping Eris. To how every thought managed to return to that arrogant bastard. 

But there was something about a Winter Solstice celebration that helped to take your mind off of your embarrassments. Evergreen garlands and wreaths decorated the walls, with faelights hanging around windows like floating glow worms.  

You were curled up in an armchair closest to the fireplace, a cup of peppermint tea nursed in your gloved hands, as you half-focused on the argument between Lucien and Cassian about some jousting event. 

Your gaze soon followed towards Azriel who hovered around the doorway, before allowing past Nesta and Elain, arms linked. You smiled at your eldest sister, despite her tight expression. 

Tensions easily dissipated when the eldest and youngest exchanged genuine greetings and birthday wishes, but swiftly returned when Nesta turned to Lucien who longingly watched Elain sit in the chair furthest away from him. “How’s the Spring Court?” Nesta asked, and a resounding crackle in the fireplace had you looking up at Lucien with concern. 

Lucien’s jaw was tight. “How you’d expect.”

The High Lord of Spring must know of Feyre’s pregnancy then, and to save the room from suffering more tense silences, Nesta asked another question. “And Jurian and Vassa?”

“At each other’s throats, as they like to be,” Lucien replied, voice still sharp. You knew why, by Elain’s wary gaze settled onto the red-headed male. “How’s the training?” It was Lucien’s turn to ask something, as he sipped his tea.

Nesta gave a true, wicked smile. “Good. We’re learning how to disembowel a male.”

Your jaw loosens as Lucien chokes on his tea, and you have to bite back a laugh. Violence has never been something you could stomach, but there was something about Nesta’s dark sarcasm that amused you. 

Amusement soon turns to light happiness at seeing Cassian’s proud grin directed towards Nesta. “As you’d expect, Nes excels at it.” 

“My favourite part of training.” You shift your gaze to Mor as she mockingly tilts her glass towards your eldest sister. 

Nesta’s brows tighten. “We haven’t cut the ribbon yet, though.”

“So you’re really learning Valkyrie techniques,” Mor questions, surprise evident in her expression. 

You soon lose focus on the conversation as you feel a warm gaze settle in your direction. Shifting your attention, you catch the gaze of Lucien, much to your surprise. He smiled, and you reciprocated, albeit with confusion lining your eyes.

It took only an hour before Mor was pestering the idea of opening gifts. With only a snap of Rhys’ fingers, a pile appeared. 

You have found finding gifts for everyone a wildly difficult task—especially for the fae who had already been getting gifts for centuries. But, you felt inclined to give them something in return for their hospitality. When asked what they wanted, a response usually died on their tongues. You would then be met with a simple, “Do not worry about it.”

So, it was jewellery for all the women and an interesting bottle of liquor for the men. At least Rhys looked mildly intrigued when opening a black panel box to reveal a beautifully blown glass in the shape of a squid. The gin looked like ink, but in the firelight, it revealed bursts of shimmering mulberry phosphorescence. When asked how you came to get such bottles, you’d only shrug your shoulders and murmur that you saved your monthly allowances. 

Elain had given you another pot of hand cream, saying that she noticed your daily wear. You’d force a tight smile when her words sparked the urge to scratch at the dried skin between your fingers.

You received Azriel’s gift last; a silent exchange as usual. The box was the length of your forearm, wrapped in black and umber tissue paper. Azriel would swallow visibly as you pick apart the tape and wrapping, put it to your side and then open the lid. Inside, delicately folded upon a pillowed layer of silk, were gloves. 

“I know I got you a pair of gloves last year, but I’ve noticed you wear them constantly. Even on formal events,” Azriel began to softly explain as if needing a reason. “So… I thought to give you something to wear on nicer occasions.”

You pick up one of the sheer black gloves, running a thumb down the lace patterns stitched into rose flowers and ivy leaves. The cuffs had three buttons made of dark golden pearls, and you could barely imagine the cost of such a gift. 

A small flush was already expanding across the cheekbones of the Shadowsinger when you smiled up at him. “They’re beautiful. Thank you,” you say, sincerely, despite the pit in your stomach. You wore gloves to hide what you couldn’t control; didn’t understand. Wearing something sheer would defeat their purpose. 

The night continued with the excited opening of presents and the continual disregard of tensions.

You’d begin disappearing for bed when another bottle of wine was cracked open and poured. Before you could, to your persistent surprise, Lucien caught you by the doorway, simple envelope in hand. 

You look between Lucien’s slight grimace and the letter in hand. “I have something for you,” the male would explain, voice a little wavered as if he were internally fighting whether or not to burn or pass it on. “It’s not from me, specifically,” he’d only add on. 

“Who is it from?” You question, brows raising in trepidation. Ideas flew across your mind, each one worse than the previous. 

Lucien’s grimace deepens. “I’ve been strictly instructed to tell you to open it in the privacy of your room. Don’t worry—nothing inside has the intent to cause harm.”

The statement did little to soothe your apprehension. If anything, it only amplified it. However, there was an inkling of curiosity that burned through you.  

“Alright. Thank you, Lucien,” you reply softly, urging to end this conversation so you can return to your room, rip your gloves off and attempt to pacify the itch under your hands with creams. 

The mysterious letter stayed cold on your desk for a total of four days. 

There was no name written to say who it came from, only your own written in talented cursive. Whilst you knew Lucien to have no ill intent towards you or your family, you couldn’t help but worry. A half of you urged to show it to Feyre, your High Lady, of this possible threat. But the other half, the one that was now winning, was telling you to open it. 

Which is what you were currently wrestling over. Staring at the white envelope as you continually work in the hand cream over your palms and in between your fingers. You let out a long sigh of defeat, chewing on the inside of your cheek, before decidedly picking up the letter that haunted your waking thoughts every time your eyes drifted to it. 

There was a small weight to it as if there were two separate papers to be discovered inside. With the nail of your thumb, you broke through the sticky seal. 

The first thing you gently pull out is a neatly folded paper, writing within the same delicate cursive found on the envelope. Curiosity turned to confusion and confusion quickly shifted to alarm.

‘Whilst our meeting left my cheek bruised and pride in question, it would leave me troubled to not give my dearest Archeron sister a Winter Solstice gift. Place the golden card on a secret surface to receive my present. Yours, Eris Vanserra.’  

Emotions swam to the surface of your accelerating heart. There was obvious sarcasm, but you were unsure if there was a threat underlying his words. You wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case—you slapped the heir of Autumn Court. 

Perhaps there was a cruel joke awaiting you. But Lucien had promised no foul play, and the small amount of trust you had in him believed he wouldn’t lie for his brother. 

With a small tremble in your hand, you pulled out the golden card. It glittered in the light from the small hearth, highlighting the large symbol etched in deep red ink. It appeared to be a rune of sorts, and you wondered what it meant. 

Without much thought, you placed the card down on your desk, and the paper instantly burst into flames. You jolted, watching as the rune melted into the wood, singeing from red to ashen black. As soon as the mark settles, a velvet box appears. 

Placing the letter down, you slowly reach for the jewellery box. Flicking open the clasp, worry transformed into bewilderment once again. Inside was a simple choker made of gold and drops of orange carnelian. Something thrummed from the crystals, and they were almost too hot to the touch. 

One final note rested underneath the necklace.

‘You’d look better in Autumn colours.’ 

The choker and two notes remained hidden deep under your bed. 

However, the rune remained a permanent fixture on the edge of your desk, only serving to echo your secret. Perhaps that is what Eris wanted—to leave you wary and fretting about his next move.

You'd hide it under a glass of water.

But silence remained, even after Cassian and Nesta left to meet with the heir of Autumn. And when anxiety wracked through your body, the powers the Cauldron forced upon you flared within their shackled confines. You knew they wanted to release, but there was a lock hidden and a key lost. 

Hand cream would soon not be enough to soothe, and huddling beside a fireplace would become unjustified when spring turned over. Reading was always a hobby to distract the mind, yet it didn’t distract the urge to itch and claw at your breaking skin. 

You couldn’t tell anyone from the Inner Circle. You didn’t want to go through the training Nesta has to go through. You didn’t like violence, and you certainly won’t be moulded into the next weapon.  

So you’d endure, just as Elain did. When it was just you two in the house, you’d bake together. Elain would talk of flowers she’d want to grow when the snow finally cleared, and you were content in just listening. And if a silence persisted between you, there was no need to fill it as it was never uncomfortable.  

“There’s something on your mind,” Elain would randomly comment as she kneaded together another batch of dough.

Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth as you looked away. “Nothing you too need to worry about,” you finally decide to reply. 

A smile pulled at the edges of her lips as she ceased her kneading. Picking up a hand towel, Elain wiped away bits of dough and flour. “We both may be on different paths, but that doesn’t mean I no longer can give you advice. Something’s bothering you. Everyone can see it, it’s just that no one seems to want to ask.”

You chew on the inside of your mouth, returning to silence. Elain would only continue. “I keep having dreams. Sometimes, going into the Cauldron, but a lot of the time, they’re snippets of random scenes. Of people I've never met,” she would explain, and your jaw would loosen slightly. “But then, a random person wouldn’t be a stranger anymore. I’d see you with a red-headed male sometimes. I thought it was Lucien, but it wasn’t. It was that male Nesta danced with.” 

“I hit him,” you blurt out, and a short gasp left your lungs that sounded like a pained huff of air. “On Winter Solstice. I slapped the heir of Autumn Court.” And just as the words left your lips, a weight eased. 

Elain’s expression of surprise told you that wasn’t what she was talking about, and it soon made her look all the more amused. Then, your sister began to laugh. “You hit him?” She repeats back between laughs, and it is enough for you to join in. 

“Yes—yes, I did,” you giggle. “Oh, I was so terrible for doing it. But it felt so good. So, so good.” 

There was still so much more you kept hidden, and it was clear Elain was doing the same, but getting a fraction of this burden off of your shoulders made you feel lighter. When the laughter finally died down, the surrounding aura was considerably warmer.

“Is that what has been troubling you?” Elain asks softly, caramel eyes soft with a spark of knowing. 

You look down again, biting your top lip. “One of the many things,” you settle on saying, remaining vague whilst also being truthful. Then, your brows furrow. “You said you dream of me. What are you seeing?”

Elain’s lips parted, and it was her turn to look away, pointedly going back to the dough. Despite your wishes to pry, you were in no position to scold her for keeping secrets. 

“Perhaps it would be best to think of them just as dreams. But they’re happy scenes,” Elain assures with a lasting smile, and you couldn’t help but wonder more about what they entailed. 

If the male Elain envisioned you with was Eris Vanserra, the current bane of your existence, you worried for the moments in between. If these dreams were worth anything, you’d scold yourself. 

When you return to your room later that evening, belly full of dinner and sweet honeyed bread, it seems fate has come to answer your question. You should worry about the moments in between. 

A note sat on your desk, tucked underneath the glass of water hiding the burnt rune. 

You stare hard at it, heart in your throat and limbs frozen. Eyes glued to the paper, you settle slowly into the desk chair. 

‘Hello, my dearest Archeron sister.’

There was no need for guesses on who this came from, nor how it did. Rhys had once commented that winnowing into the River House was impossible by wards. But, as it appeared, even some of the strongest amounts of magic had loopholes. This simple rune seemed to attest to that. 

With one hand, you brush the slip of paper closer to you, while the other reaches for a quill. 

‘How are you writing to me?’

The question was simple, your writing compared to Eris’s almost embarrassing. Shaky letters underneath perfect cursive. 

You slide the paper to rest above the rune, and it vanishes like smoke in the air. Not a minute passes before another note appears again. There was a short thought about how conversing with Eris went against rules, whilst there was nothing explicitly said about exchanging short words. Yet, perhaps there was no harm in this. Even better, you could swallow your pride and apologise for your behaviour, ensuring that what you had done didn’t negatively affect alliances. 

‘If my timelines are correct, you have been around magic for over a year. I thought by now you would come to understand its possibilities and impossibilities.’ 

You could hear Eris’s smirk and arrogant tone sneering into your ear, and it made your will to apologise all the more difficult. 

‘Why haven’t you told anyone of what I did on Winter Solstice?’

There it was. The question that had been consuming you. It took Eris a few minutes to respond and was something you duly noted.

‘When it comes to the Night Court, blackmail is a scarce source to come by.’

Arrogant, and manipulative. You should have assumed that by now.  

‘Unfortunately, you won’t be getting much out of me.’

‘Not present in family pack meetings?’

You were surprised at the swift response. While his words were goading, enough to annoy you, you had already learnt from your previous encounter. So you flourished in the amusement you got from this blossoming banter; despite its mocking undertones. 

‘Do you make it a habit of being unpleasant for every being you interact with? Or am I just a favourite?’

A smile forms across your lips, imagining how his smirk would form an irate glower.  

‘Do you make keeping secrets from your family a habit?’

Your smile vanishes. Manipulative, indeed. Eris knew how to find a bruise and press hard. You pause for a moment, wondering where he had learnt such things. Perhaps watching others at court or by book, or if, maybe, by a more brutal means of education. From what you’ve heard of Autumn Court, you wouldn’t be surprised. 

You shake your head when concern pangs deep within you.

‘Everyone keeps secrets. To not believe so is stupidly idyllic.’ 

‘Smart-mouthed, and terribly cynical.’

‘Wonderous things seem to happen when one’s mortality and choice are ripped away from them.’

You suppose it isn’t your fault for your bitterness. You’ve never truly vented out all you have gone through to another. There was an odd apprehension you had towards the Inner Circle, unsure which words to use and who to trust. And you neither wanted to go to Nesta or Elain, with the threat of triggering them of their trauma. You didn’t feel like you had the right to complain.

‘New life not treating you well?’

Eris could detect your upset; but for some unimaginable reason, his tone seemed to shift from condescension to something more genuine. Or, he was just effortlessly manipulative and had finally gotten into your head. 

Before you could form another witty response to dig back at Eris, another note appeared. 

‘You shouldn't believe all the lies they tell you.’

You blink, again surprised by the sudden shift. A loud crackle from the fire behind you agreed. 

‘It becomes hard, I fear, when your attitude already speaks for you.’

There was a prolonged silence after your reply disappeared into the void. You pondered an image of Eris leaning over his desk, jacket discarded, shirt unbuttoned to expose his collar, fingers running through his loosened hair as he deliberated. 

Then you were filled with more curiosity. Does he anxiously tap his quill, or did he jump his knee when lost? Or maybe he was always that suave male full of vanity, and he found something more entertaining than passing notes. 

You swallowed thickly. 

A paper finally appeared. 

‘Truth has a weight lies cannot conjure. Unfortunately, while one lie is easy to expose, a lie told a thousand times can begin looking like the truth. And when family is involved, those of your Inner Circle pointedly look in the other direction.’ 

‘You seem to be well versed with the damage of lies. Yet it should be assumed, with someone good at playing the liar.’

Eris’s words sunk deeply, and you were almost uncomfortable with them. He remained vague and passive, not telling you everything but expecting you to figure it out anyhow. 

‘Sometimes a lie is safer than the truth.’

A pause and another note appeared soon after. 

‘I can tell you’re a smart girl, dearest. Believe the lies you wish, they pose no threat to me. But if it is the truth you seek, you’ll find written laws a difficulty to disprove.’

Your nose scrunches up, and you no longer feel the urge to deign a response to Eris. It wouldn’t be honest to say you weren’t intrigued, but you weren’t going to be sent off on a witch hunt. Yet, it wasn’t like you had much else to do to fill your time when you and Elain were left to your own devices.    

It seemed like it was time to accept Nesta’s proposal to visit the library. 

The library carved into the side of a mountain had always been one of many things that enchanted you. And with talk of shadowy monsters lurking down on the lowest level, it only added to its spectral atmosphere. 

You strode close beside Nesta, who wore a rare smile. She wasn’t expecting your agreements to join her weekly ventures to the library, but shock soon passed into hidden excitement.

Nesta and you had very few things in common; only one thing connected you: reading. When your family lived without money, you rotated between three novels and one completed anthology. While you enjoyed different subjects, you both had a favoured taste for romance. 

“There’s a whole bookcase dedicated to romance,” Nesta had mentioned, a familiar spark in her eye. “If that is what you’re looking for.”

You chew the inside of your cheek. It was clear Nesta worked out that you came here to find something specific. Explaining what you were looking for would mean giving context, and you were by no means giving away that secret—not yet, at least.

“Just a wander,” you reply, weaving truth with lie. “But if you could point me in the direction of the non-fiction sections, it would be a great help,” you added, much to Nesta’s evident suspicion. 

“One level below,” Nesta replies slowly, gesturing towards the staircase leading downward. 

You give Nesta a small smile. “Thank you,” you’d murmur in parting, picking up your skirts to descend. 

Without your eldest sister as a figure of direction, there was an eerie feeling settling deep in your chest. Marble rock carved into pillars that looked more like billowing clouds seemed to create contorted shadows by the specific placement of lamps and fireplaces. 

Books made with all sorts of coverings and dyes were cramped into lacquered shelves, resembling an organised chaos.

One thing that always made books appealing was how they carried an age to them. Further into the halls of books, it felt like you were falling into another world, hidden away from the reaches of reality. 

You soon found the case dedicated to court histories, then the shelf of individual court laws and proceedings. Locating the book now a fading umber colour, you had to hold back a sneeze and a cough at the dust that fogged from its release.

The pages were a soft yellow, a physical testament to the years this book of Autumn laws has lived. It was weighted with thousands of papers on all of the statutes and practices, and you audibly sighed at the amount you may have to sift through to find what Eris had sent you off to discover. 

You only had an idea, assuming that the lies Eris was referring to were about Mor and their short arranged engagement. Upon opening the tome, flicking through the key, you eyed out for the laws on marriage. You found the section on marriage and engagement but felt your mouth dry at seeing that it was under ‘Female Law’.  

Something churned in your gut, already fretting at what you may find. 

Then, there it was. Section 12, Part Three, on engagements.

‘(a) In relation to a betrothal between courts: 

(i) upon a promised female of an outside court crosses into Autumn borders and is touched by the promised male and/or an Autumn citizen, is henceforth a female belonging to Autumn Court.

(ii) a female that is mated to a male Autumn citizen is henceforth a female belonging to Autumn Court.’

A lump forms in your throat as realisation settles.

You stared long and hard at the final letter you and Eris had exchanged. 

Having been told the abbreviated version of what transpired between the heir of the Autumn Court and Mor, you couldn’t help but question the long-standing grudge. 

What could’ve Eris done differently?

It was Keir who had Mor left on the borders, a sign embedded in her womb for Eris to find. Touching her would thus seal her fate to the Autumn Court, whether or not Eris went through with the marriage. Mor didn’t want to be trapped in Autumn if her actions spoke enough for her.  

‘And when family is involved, those of your Inner Circle pointedly look in the other direction.’ That was certainly true enough. 

You wanted to interrogate Eris; out of anger and because of an odd form of distress. Your perception of him was waning into something new, but what terrified you more was the perception of the Inner Circle’s integrity. A part of you wanted to question Azriel. 

Pulling out a fresh sheet of paper, you dip your quill into a pot of ink.

‘Section 12, Part Three.’ 

It’s all you need to write for Eris to know what you’re inferring. He was the one to send you off on this little hunt. 

It takes all but a few minutes before a wisp of paper to return above the rune. 

‘So the dearest second sister knows how to hunt for truths. Was reading my court’s laws an invigorating study?’

Still condescending and an irritation, as you feared. 

‘You said it yourself, laws are hard to disprove. And yet it seems the Inner Circle remains to paint you as the enemy.’

‘Willful ignorance is a dreadful thing, is it not? Especially when they’re made to be educated on things such as law.’

You roll your eyes a little. There was a swift urge to defend those who had given you a place of safety after your Change into a being of immortality and magic. Especially your three sisters. 

‘Not all of them know. My sisters don’t know.’

‘The High Lady of The Night Court uneducated in the matters of court laws? A true inspiration of leadership.’

Eris found another bruise and pressed. It hurt all the more as there were no words to come to the defence of it. It was a hard, cold fact. He was right, again—truth had a weight no lie could conjure.  

‘You forget it was she who saved Prythian. Your life and freedom are indebted to her.’

‘I have not forgotten, and have no intention to let it slip my memory. But the truth of the matter is that fighting and leading a court of people are two entirely different undertakings. The High Lord of The Night Court is well versed in the importance of timing, and I shall remain unsurprised he made a leader out of a female whom every fae in power is indebted to.’

Your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, drawing blood. You came into this conversation to show your shifting perspective of this male, yet instead, his continual will to make digs and accusations makes it harder to keep any thought positive. 

But perhaps this was just your stubbornness showing its head. Your sense of loyalty to your family was something that weighed down on you. It made your heart ache and mind ravaged with anxiety at keeping just one secret from them. Or, just maybe, this wasn’t just your undying loyalty, but that same debt you hold yourself to. 

Eris spoke nothing but the truth. Sure, he was conniving and wove insults to point it out, but he did it to force you to see the facts as they were. He reminded you all too much of Nesta. 

‘What are you trying to prove? My sister is the High Lady, no matter the personal or political reasoning.’

There was a prolonged silence after you sent off your response. Eris was either contemplating a witty retort or a genuine reply. Yet with him, one could never be too sure of the intentions he holds. 

‘Your wavering trust.’

Your mouth dries as you read the sentence a couple of times. Something rolls in your stomach, and despite your will to deny it, his words force you to consider it either way. 

‘I trust my sisters with my life.’

‘And what of those they call the Inner Circle?’

‘They have given me a place of safety, kept food in my belly and a warm bed to sleep in every night. I am indebted to them, and have no reason to distrust them.’

‘Yet, as it seems, you talk to me, an “enemy” as you put it, in the secrecy of your room. There must be some outside thinking when you also seek out a missing truth behind the story of Morrigan and myself.’

You glower, eyes practically burning into the note. The quill you held was tossed onto the desk, the ink that still coated the tip flicking small splatters across the wood, staining it black. Eris won’t get another response from you, and you can only imagine his shallow snickering of victory in your ear. 

Hauling out the box that was once used to carry a gown from under your bed, you shove all the notes inside, along with the autumn-born choker. 

Spring was finally sinking its warm embrace over Valeris, and for the first time in your life, you dreaded the turnover in seasons. 

Not only was it a testament to time’s rapid passing, reminding you that the body you were now in will never wrinkle with age or mottle in the sun, but having an excuse to wear gloves will be next to impossible. You were already getting lingering eyes from Azriel and Elain, and you adamantly avoided their silent questions. 

There were things you weren’t ready to unpack, including the aftermath of what the Cauldron has done to you. Ravaged your mind with endless nightmares of that same anxiety-inducing claustrophobia and the poisoned burn that is beginning to climb up from your palms to your wrists. 

But as Elain continually mentions, Spring is the season of change, and the prophetic-sounding words only built a foundation of dread.

You and Eris don’t exchange notes after he supplants the thought in your head of your growing lack of trust; your wavering loyalty. Where dreams kept you sleepless, those ideas stole away your daily focus. And you couldn’t help but begin to see it. 

There was always that underlying fear of telling anyone, perhaps other than Elain, of your blossoming powers. Watching what Nesta went through, overhearing arguments and seeing your eldest sister forcefully broken down into submission, you only felt trepidation. Would you be made to train into another soldier? 

Whatever souls were made of, you knew Nesta and Feyre were cut from the same cloth, no matter how much either of them denied it. They were both fighters, while you and Elain held a silent strength. 

You were not made to hold a sword, and that was a fact you knew in your bones. So that silent strength is what you resorted to as always to keep that blade from being forced into your hand, no matter how much that poison within you pillaged from the inside out.

You were outside in the garden with Elain, watching her quietly as she weeded and planted new flowers into freshly turned soil beds. 

With winter finally bending to spring and all the ice melting away, Elain was finally able to get back into doing what she loved, while you got to have the excuse of lounging out in the sun, soaking in the warmth that chased away the chill always lingering under your skin.

Insects were now crawling out from holes in trees, singing out in hopes of finding their seasonal mate, filling the usually foreboding silence.   

“I dreamt of you last night,” Elain suddenly spoke, pulling you out of your daydreaming. Lulling your head towards your sister, you notice her glazed eyes and lethargic movements when ripping a weed from root and stem. You began to find a pattern with her; decerning when she was present or in a far-off land. And currently, it felt as though she wasn’t with you. 

Recently, Elain would vicariously mention a dream, yet you knew somewhere deeply instinctual that they weren’t just her imagination. She was a seer, as Azriel had discovered.

“A good one, I hope,” you reply after a long moment.

Elain would smile softly, her aura lightening and easing your worried heart. “You were with your fox again. Somewhere where the sun is bright and the sea clear.”

You look on with mild amusement and confusion. Elain’s visions of you would only ever include an animal. A sly fox, a troubled crow, a nocuous raven. It was a recent change in vocabulary, where the fox was suddenly yours.

Sharing your sister’s smile, you sit content, when the air shifts and a new weight settles in the vicinity. You turn your head as someone enters the garden, and pauses on the outskirts like an intruder overthinking their plans. 

Elain was no longer trapped in her mind’s vision upon seeing Lucien; his expression taught and brows bunched. You sigh, standing from where you sat next to Elain, knowing she won’t want to greet the male. 

Lucien waits for you, maintaining Elain’s wishes of distance despite his burning upset. 

“Hello, Lucien,” you greet, stomach churning a little when seeing how his eyes don’t leave Elain even when you approach. When you finally stand in front of him, did Lucien shift his focus. 

Returning your greetings, Lucien made it hard not to empathise with when he looked so torn with longing. But despite it, you could understand your sister too. From what you grew up believing, it was hard to not initially think of a mate bond as a form of ownership. And when your control and mortality have already been ripped from you, keeping a sense of self is all that is left. 

“I thought you were returning to the… human lands,” you continue, stuttering over your choice of words a little. It still sometimes feels like those lands are your home. 

Lucien shook his head a little. “I was—am,” he replies slowly, tripping over his own words too. “I just wanted to see…” he pauses, swallows thickly, and looks away. 

Your lips form a firm line. You admired Lucien for respecting Elain’s wants, but you couldn’t also fault him for hoping for a change in heart. 

“We both wish you safe travels,” you say, shifting on your feet to be able to look from him and back to Elain. 

Lucien nods once, a strained and forceful action. His gaze inevitably returns to his mate, and it’s like you could see his glass heart fracturing a little more. 

He needed a distraction, at least momentarily, and you certainly had questions for him. “I didn’t know you were a messenger for your brother,” you lead, raising a brow as you once again position yourself between Elain and Lucien’s prolonging stare. 

Lucien blinks, his golden eye analysing whilst his natural one widens a fraction. He was quick to regain composure, shaking his head a little. “I owed him a favour. And despite him, I shared in his current situation,” the red-headed male replied, voice flitting back into its calming timbre sound. 

You raise a suspicious look at him. “What situation?” Your voice comes out a little too clipped. 

The male in front of you pales a shade as if realising he perhaps spoke a little too much. “There are many things I know that aren’t my place to tell,” Lucien excuses, and from the finality in his tone, you knew you wouldn’t be extracting it from him.  

You mask a flicker of annoyance and instead sigh, nodding once. Lucien returns the gesture, levelling one last look at Elain before turning to walk away. An idea suddenly sparks in you, and you reach to pause his leave.

“Feyre once mentioned that in Spring Court there were entire glens of flowers,” you call back over to him, drawing Lucien’s gaze back onto you. “Elain’s favourite flower is a tulip.”

Lucien looks momentarily stunned until he grasps the olive branch you are giving him. A turning point, perhaps even a starting place to share something they both love. His eyes showed appreciation. 

Before Lucien spoke again, his nose twitched and his eyes snapped skywards. His nostrils flared, and then you finally smelt it too. The iron that was so potent in blood. 

You didn’t know who or where it was coming from, but that familiar dread curled up your spine when your instincts told you it was familiar. It took all that was in you not to choke when Lucien murmured what your subconscious knew. 

“Feyre.”

For all the fae magic in the continent, for all its possibilities, you had never believed it so useless when seeing your youngest sister laid out in white sheets. 

Blood stained everything; it permeated the air until it was so thick you could taste it in the back of your throat. You remember your mother educating you on the practice of childbirth. She never cared for softened words, but she did for the truth. There would be blood, there would be pain, and there would be risks. 

This was wrong. Feyre was supposed to have months more of time. There were never supposed to be hurried choices, prayers spoken in hushed voices, knives pulled out for one stroke of luck of the babe surviving. 

You were gripping Elain’s arm, while your other hand pushed sweat-dampened hair off of Feyre’s forehead. The world was going blurry, mixing red with white. 

Rhys was screaming as Feyre’s skin began turning cold. Something in your chest simmered, and the pressure in your burning sternum agonised and writhed as you were wracked with sobs. You felt like you were dying with her. 

You cling to Elain, watching Nesta with tear-stricken confusion and undeniable hope when she calls forth her powers. In your mind, you screamed for help, begging the old fae gods above not to take Feyre away. 

It all happened so quickly; from drowning in a raging form of grief to the bursting feelings of relief and joy. Feyre’s eyes opened at the chorus of cries coming from the once-too-still baby boy.

Nesta had given the Cauldron back what she had stolen. 

You laughed just as hard as you cried, horror still deeply blended with hope. You cared little for the blood seeping into your skirts as you took Feyre's hand in your's.

Deep beneath your thorned soul, a warm hand soothed away all lingering sorrow.

CHAPTER THREE

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[bonzos-number-1-fan]

What DPHW Means, and Its Relationship to Smirke's 14

The following contains spoilers for all of TMA, TMP (eps 1, 2, and 3 released currently if you’re in the future), and the ARG. Spoilers for all of this are throughout so I would advise against reading any of this unless you've listened to everything mentioned. It could also spoil episodes of TMP that have yet to release but if it does I don't think it will be a major spoiler. If I'm right I think I'm only right about a fairly trivial piece of information. 

Theory of Fears; or, Zur Furchtlehre

Part 1: Opticks

Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. With or without Dekker's +1. It is, however, necessary and correct. It has also been talked about ad nauseam and isn't a topic I want to dedicate a lot of time to. Smirke's 14+1, or even TMA in general, isn't the focus of this theory nor is it that relevant past its necessity as a point of comparison.

There aren't 14+1 distinct entities in the TMA cosmology. There is a singular entity that has been given divisions by fear and labels by those that have witnessed it. There is no objective line in which to draw these divisions. No matter where you put them or what you name them these concepts will always bleed into each other. Aspects of one Entity will manifest in another because the labels are invented and Fear is a storm of concepts crashing into each other. That's not a flaw in Smirke's list but its strength. A single entity of that scale is impossible to discuss in meaningful terms, the concept has too much gravity to be properly conceptualised and so an entire spectrum of fear must be divided in order to combat it. Categorisation is a vital part of TMA's cosmology and Smirke was as correct as anyone to put those lines down where he did. The real flaw with Smirke's list is forgetting the spectrum exists and stopping seeing the shades in between the Powers.

Finding a way to categorise this concept is important, but the methodology isn't. Smirke's 14 isn't the truth. The only truth is there is a singular whole. But branding goes a long way both in terms of research and in terms of following. This branding lacks accuracy though, it is in large part arbitrary and by its nature removes the shades and the bleed. TMP takes a different approach, one only hinted at, but one that I think is now fully explainable. 

Part 2: Lost in Translation

Perhaps the most interesting mystery in TMP thus far is DPHW. However, I think based on episodes 1 and 2 of TMP (and now 3), and the Klaus excel sheet from the ARG, we have all we need to explain its utility.

In order to show that conclusion in a satisfactory manner some basic facts need stating, and the order of my thoughts on those facts needs explaining. Firstly, each DPHW is 4 digits. Secondly, each DPHW is read as 4 numbers rather than, say, a pair of 2 numbers. Thirdly, these numbers can change independently of each other. Fourthly, incidents may share CAT#R#'s but have a different DHPW as found in the Klaus sheet (a German document listing OIAR-style incident reports). Finally, the German equivalent of DPHW is TSHU also found in the Klaus sheet. We can use those facts to determine something important. Each letter of this initialism is paired with a digit meaning that DHPW is a group of 4 categories. If that is true we can intuit some of its meaning. It is likely that these numbers are a rating of sorts for each category there. To prove that's the case we would need to know the categories and fortunately we have a starting point to understanding it, German.

If the categories that DPHW describes start with the letters TSHU in German then what needs to be done to find the categories is quite simple. You pair each letter up and then find a suitable word to categorise the supernatural whose first letter starts with the respective letter from the initialism in its language. D/T, P/S, H,H, W/U. After some brainstorming in the Statement Remains PLUS Discord server we had come up with strong candidates for 3 of the 4 pairs.

The first was Deadly/Tötlich, a seemingly solid start that gave this theory some legs. Next was Painful/Schmerzlich which was a distinct enough category for the threat of an incident that proved this was a strong direction to head it. H/H proved more troublesome. To my mind the two strongest contenders here were Hypnotic/Hypnotisch or Helpless/Hilflos. Both sound very reasonable but that in itself is a problem. However the last one was found relatively easily as Weird/Unheimlich. With 3 of the 4 it seemed like this was all but correct at this stage. However, I had been thinking about this backwards and it wasn't until I had a revelation that the pieces really fell into place.

Unheimlich sounded familiar when it was suggested but not in a way I could place. It wasn't until the next day that the aforementioned revelation happened. The ARG had a huge focus on Germany, and Ep 1 of TMP revealed why. FR3-D1 uses German source code which makes German the original language for the OIAR's methodology. Meaning DPHW is the translation, and I now think it's a shoddy one at best. The reason unheimlich sounded so familiar to me is because it's a fairly important part of psychology's history.

DPHW's Weird isn't weird, DPHW's Weird is uncanny. A direct translation could give you weird but a more accurate one, especially in this instance, gives you unheimlich. Unheimlich as in Jentsch's "Zur Psychologie des Unheimlichen", and Freud's "Das Unheimlich". Both of which are essays on the uncanny. It's all about the fear of the unfamiliar, and a central example of this is Olympia from Der Sandmann, a seemingly living doll.

The German word unheimlich is obviously the opposite of heimlich, heimisch, meaning “familiar,” “native,” “belonging to the home”; and we are tempted to conclude that what is “uncanny” is frightening precisely because it is not known and familiar... - Freud, The Uncanny

This is incredibly relevant to a lot of what has been discovered so far. The uncanny as a topic in psychology was kickstarted by two Germans, and a central part of their essays was the German Der Sandmann, and a German, SSandman, was a large presence in the ARG. The strength of this connection all but solidified this theory in my mind. And, briefly, this is also related to Masahiro Mori's uncanny valley hypothesis which I'm sure I won't need to explain.

The obvious way to test this is to take the few W ratings we have been given and compare them to the incident to which they're assigned. The first is from Ep 1, “dolls comma watching”, and was given a 7. This is a good start both in that a 7 feels appropriate as an "uncanny rank" but also that a doll is a focal point on the essays on the subject. Also in Ep 1 is "Reanimation (Partial)", again with a 7. Another very appropriate number. The last in Ep 1 is "Transformation (eyes)" with a 5. Certainly less uncanny than the previous examples so this is still strong. In Ep 2 we get a 5 for Bram Stoker's Dracula, which seems more than fair for a strange man like him, and a 7 for Frankenstein which gives parity for another story of the resurrected dead. Finally we get "Transformation (full)" at a 7, more uncanny than "Transformation (eyes)" which tracks nicely.

With what I felt was such a strong theory for the W/U pairing it helped clarify the ideas of the others. The final digit rating the uncanniness of an incident gives an idea of how these categories work and the breadth of their definitions. Up until this point I was leaning towards Hypnotic/Hypnotisch for our H/H pairing. But giving it more thought, and comparing it to TMA's own groupings, it becomes apparent that Helpless/Hilflos is more appropriate. Hypnotic effects are too aligned with things that would already be very aligned with Uncanny ones, the Stranger's Not!Them alter memories and prey on the fear of something being not quite right, so as a categorisation tool I think it makes less sense because of the greater overlap. Helpless on the other hand works better for things like The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Aspects which I don't think show up in our current other 3 groups. But given the current definition of the strongest category, the fear of the uncanny, I think that helplessness is a more apt label. The fear of helplessness. Which makes H Helplessness/Hilflosigkeit.

With this level of breadth established re-examination of the final two categories is warranted. Painful/Schmerzlich is more likely to be Pain/Schmerz. Not just incidents that are themselves painful but the fear of pain, possibly including the emotional. A comparison to TMA gives this rating a strong affiliation with Entities such as The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Similarly Deadly/Tötlich should now be broadened beyond the fear of things that will kill you, to the fear of death in a broader sense. Which makes D/T Death/Tod instead. To compare again to TMA this is The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Although, while I might be describing these ideas as the fear of ____ I think it's important to know that they do appear to be more conceptual in nature rather than just if something is scary or not.

Comparing each of these assumed categories against current DPHW’s strengthens this argument. “Dolls, watching” scored 1157. It’s a very low fear of death and pain, but they present a medium fear of helplessness and a high fear of the weird. For a fear that’s rooted in paranoia that makes good sense. “Reanimation (Partial)” got a very similar rating, at 5257, but it being a corpse cranks up its fear of death. “Transformation (eyes)” got 2155 which, again, seems to fall in place with what we know. It’s more human than the doll is so it’s less weird but a physical and alarming transformation naturally seems like more of a terminal concern. Combine that with some good ol' internet death threats and it's not nothing, but not much.

As a small aside, while it's not come up in the episodes so far the Klaus sheet shows DPHW's are 0-9. There is a good bit of evidence to suggest 0 might be read as 10 here. 0 most commonly showed up in that sheet for P and the incidents often had the notes "Kriegsvolk". Literally "war people" but more accurately "army/soldier". So pain of 10 for those would track better than P of 0, and it explains why things like the watching doll rate a 1 for D and P instead of a 0, and Dr. Webber's infection is a P of 1 despite entirely removing physical and emotional pain as it goes. Because 1 is the lowest.

For Ep 2 we start with Dracula scoring a 7465, he’s undead and a killer for high death, if he kills you it hurts but it’s not extreme, he’s both hard to physically stop and has mental tricks, and he’s just a weird dude in general who always seems off somehow. Frankenstein at 5337 has aforementioned parity with the reanimation incident as you’d expect but notably less on the helplessness rating as he is just a man. Next is “Transformation (full)” at 1567. This is generally a more severe rating overall than Transformation (eyes) and you’d expect that, but I think it does show something interesting. At no point did Daria want to end her own life. The transformation is far more severe, arguably looks more life threatening, and was clearly more painful but it is explicitly and repeatedly not about dying. I take that as a suggestion that these ratings take into account more than just the mundanely observable nature of the incident. She looks very sick which would make you think of death but it rates low for it because of the emotional, or maybe supernatural, purpose of the incident. She didn’t want to die, the manifestation didn’t try to kill her, and so despite its appearance it’s low on death.

Then finally in Ep 3, we have "Infection (full body)" with a 8175. (Although I'm assuming that's a misfile and it should be Infection (Arboreal)). I think D and H here are more interesting to dig into. P is pretty obvious it's the lowest rating because it seemed actively pain-numbing as it went. W being 5 tracks too is certainly uncanny and has strange geometry but it's not full Distortion levels. So with those two out of the way we can get to the good stuff. D is the most interesting of the two to me. Because while it's pretty clear he died I don't think that's got much to do with it. Rather I think the 8 is more specifically about the way it deals with death, decay, and rot in relation to new life and the growth of other things, plants and insects. Thematically, I think there is a lot more emphasis on death as a broader concept beyond the terminal nature of the infection. For Helplessness there is also an additional element beyond whether or not he was able to do something about the infection, and that's whether he wanted to. As the symptoms worsened his desire to treat them decreased. Initially he was worried about the infection and determined to seek attention when able, then he was happy to let someone else help instead (a hallucination, which makes things more helpless), before finally wanting it to happen. These sorts of elements are things I think we're going to see factor in quite a lot.

In summary; it is my belief that DPHW is a way to rate incidents that the OIAR catalogue based upon the strength of the fear they elicit in the categories of death, pain, helplessness, and weird (uncanny). This system is effectively the TMP equivalent to Smirke's 14 from TMA. Rather than assigning each statement to an Entity each incident is rated for those qualities. These systems are distinct methodologies but each is a way to categorise the supernatural.  

Part 3: On Analogy

That is the juicy bit of this post out of the way so now I have to put a bow on it and touch upon the overarching analogy here. As alluded to by the title and some turns of phrase, it's colour theory. It's a somewhat common analogy for TMA's fears but I think it applies in equal measure to TMP and taken together might provide an insight into how the cosmologies will differ. So, to me, colour theory is not only the perfect lens in which to view the Fears as a whole, it's the perfect lens to view these methodologies.

Smirke is Newton. He broke up a singular spectrum into wide chunks. The Dread Powers themselves are very analogous to a colour wheel. Colours bleed into each other and the boundaries of where one stops and starts is up for debate but red is still red, and blue is blue. That is a useful context for them, it aids discussion. Try talking about red without ever saying red and only referring to a representation of a divided whole. But all too similar to Newton's 7 colours Smirke's 14 lacks nuance, it lacks shade.

On the other hand we have DPHW and this is all shade. DPHW is CMYK. It's not one thing or another with DPHW. You don't have the pitfall of Smirke's methodology where one manifestation is in one arbitrary box. Here, assuming I'm correct, each incident is made up of constituent parts. The OIAR, and presumably its German forebear, are less interested in Smirke's occult ancient gods and more interested in bureaucratic precision. Smirke was doing research while the OIAR are doing administration. As such DPHW takes a wholly different approach. It's now all shades. This has its own problems in that it's harder to discuss in broad terms. It's such a specific methodology that it's lost a lot of what Smirke triumphed with. This is well represented already given that no one has been shown to know what it means at all yet. But if there is a truly different cosmology at play here we might see the axes of DPHW being where alliances fall.

All that leaves us with is a comparison of these two. The only way to really do that is to talk about how Smirke's 14+1 would fit in DPHW's system. This is something I touched upon briefly. Death is strongly related to The End, The Extinction, or The Slaughter. Pain to The Desolation, The Corruption, or the Flesh. Helplessness to The Dark, The Buried, or The Lonely. Weird to the Stranger, or the Spiral. But that's not all of them and even within those it's already clear that something like The Vast isn't just about helplessness, and we've already seen Daria who would likely be an avatar of the Flesh rank highly in Weird. Which hits upon what I feel is the most interesting aspect of this entire theory. We've seen what happens with Smirke's boundaries on the Entities. We don't know if Entities even exist in this setting, or if they do exist whether they'll be the same ones, or even if they're not the same ones whether they'll function under similar rules. But now we get to see what happens when there aren't those boundaries. We get to see much broader mingling than TMA showcased. It was hinted at there, especially early on before the lore really settled, but now that mingling seems to be the whole point.

And as a brief mention, and to further labour the theme, I don’t think there is enough information to really discuss how CAT#R# works but there are some analogies to work with here. From the Klaus sheet we can infer that CAT# has the following values 1/2/3/12/13/23/123. Or three non-mutually exclusive groups. What those groups are is hard to say right now. There is some soul/body/spirit stuff for the alchemic tria prima that's got some nice connections but doesn't map well now that Ep 3 is out. Either way, this is RGB. An incident can be all red, or red and blue, etc. R#'s values we can infer to be C/BC/B/AB/A/S with maybe an AS in there too. That's a linear scale of similarly unknown value but could represent something like potency/threat. If that is the case then R# is saturation. Some things are more intense than others. We also know from the Klaus sheet that CAT is the German from the "kategorie" meaning "category" the R was from the German “rang” meaning “rank” and so probably has more meaning to it than currently implied.

[utilitycaster]

re: production values for Thresher and actually liking the choices made, I think my thought processes are as follows:

The filming of standard gameplay isn't terribly different from how D20 is often filmed, which I've never minded. I think why I don't like the CR split screen is that it doesn't add anything and indeed subtracts deliberately and without any real end except Making Faces Bigger/ removing people from between two actors. Which, if the notes on my post about Caleb and Fjord's wild interactions are any indication, isn't even something the audience cares about and indeed seeing other players' reactions is fun (see also: everyone tracking Aabria and Travis in EXU Calamity). But if you're filming a table without the Two Rows method that is CR's mainstay, then sure, frame your shots.

Obviously no complaints about costuming/fun set stuff; I don't find that disruptive and I enjoy it. Same goes for credits or intro.

The interlude as they descend works because it was a pure RP moment and a transitional scene. Same with the introductory video and the recordings; diagetic information is great! In C1, C2, and a little even in early C3 Matt was quite good at giving the players physical letters when relevant, and a recording in a setting that offers that is also great.

The music was pretty subtle but present and non-intrusive. I actually like a little more noticeable music personally, but I think there's been a trend away from it in filmed AP lately, and what they had was setting-appropriate and while I don't know if it really deeply enhanced the vibe, it certainly didn't disrupt it.

The background was very cool and again I think scrims/cool backdrops are great.

Radio voice effects also good and I think they did a good job of making it still sound very listenable (plus it was released with closed captioning).

Pop-ups with descriptions are great, especially in actual play, and these were very unobtrusive in my opinion. D20 does this sometimes as well.

I think what I don't care for, particularly, are extensive VFX in-game. The ones in Downfall were ultimately ok because they were brief and added to the idea of this being otherworldly/outside of time as we understand it, once we understood the vibe of the actual show. If they'd continued I'd have been annoyed, but fine for just the Tengar scenes to show how the gods were once very different. But I don't care for, as discussed, the split screens; the Jaysohn edit from Burrows End and some of the jittery effects in Neverafter; or whatever the hell Kollok is doing.

It's also, ultimately, a matter of production prioritization. If the story isn't strong and production values are, then I'm going to be a lot more harsh than if the reverse is true - once CR fixed their sound equipment issues in their debut, the story was still stellar despite filming in what the cast has joked looks like a child's bedroom. Late Campaign 2 is still excellent despite the demands of social distancing putting everyone in front of a backdrop reminiscent of 1990s school pictures. A bare bones podcast with a good story is going to be better than a heavily produced show with a bad one. Thresher thus far has delivered, with great acting and an intriguing premise, and so I'd be enjoying it even if the production was much simpler. It doesn't feel like the core was neglected in order to provide a glitzy exterior.

[hidden-poet]

Commander Snow

Summary; Under the advice of Dr Gaul Coriolanus returns back to district 12 where without blinding light of lucy-grey he could see you.

Warnings; dead dove to do not eat, stalking, unrequited love, breeding kink, violence, possessive!Snow, unco/dubco, sexual content, she/her pronouns.

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Chapter 2

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The next day you move yourself and your mother to a friends house. Where you both sleep on the floor in the living room. It costs you half a panem a night but it was still a better living arrangement then laying awake until the yearly hours of the morning wondering if a peacekeeper would knock down your door.

You keep your head down. Going straight from work to the house. It seemed to pay off. Your neighbor had reported that the parcels had stopped after a peacekeeper had noticed it was the community and not the intended taking it.

You don't hear from Commander Snow. There was no summons or arrest order made for you.

It leads you to relax bit. He had probably moved on to another after realizing that you would not sell yourself for a pardon and a weekly box of food. You knew many others would, and you wished them the best of luck with their endeavor with Commander Snow. But your nature pushed away such opportunities. You couldn't even tell him you weren't interested to his face. Fear only played a part in that decision.

It was late now as you walked home from you job. Later then usual as your boss had offered you overtime to clean and organize the cold room. You gladly accepted with the added cost of your stay at your friends house.

Four shiny coins had been placed in your hand before you had even done the job. You couldn't believe she was willing to pay this much for such a simple job. You wondered if it was repayment for all your years of hard work for her.

You were never late, always made sure your jobs were done to a standard of excellence, you even stayed back to help train the new people.

All your hard work was finally being rewarded. You made sure to leave the space the best it had ever been.

The money was at least a month's work.

You hadn't written to your brother in so long due to the cost of the paper and shipping fees but now with your extra cash you could reach out.

You make the journey to the stationary store, getting in just before close and go around the back of the building. Using the flat wall as a writing pad.

Your brother had gone to district 8 after influenza swept through killing half their work force. They had asked for volunteers to relocate. Many young men offered. The pay was higher in district 8 as the Capital had a great need for the fabrics and manufacture that it produced. Your brother was picked being effortlessly strong and healthy.

The day he left was the worst day of your life. You miss him terribly, only communicating through letters which were expensive and took ages to find its way to its destination.

You tell him how much you miss him, and worry about him over at district 8. That your mother is well, and prays for him every night before bed. You thank him for the money he sends when he can. Telling him of your own good fortune with the coins, and how he was to spend his half on a cold drink if he could get one, and a night out on the town.

Your pen stills as your thoughts turn to Commander Snow. Should you tell your brother of the strange officer. He was always protective. Would he try and come back to district 12 for you. would they even let him.

You decide not to. It would only worry him, and in his worry he would make rash decisions. You would not be responisble for his harm.

Instead you reiterate how much you miss him, and warn him to write back soon.

You drop two of the coins and the pencil back into the envelope, sealing it shut and stuffing it in your pocket. It was too late to ship it off. You would have to wait until tomorrow.

You felt scared walking back to the house with the money as if people could sense it in your pocket.

You remind yourself your being silly as you walk through the road dividing the streets. There was no one else out at this time. Only you, and you were nearly to the safety of the house.

There was no street lamps in the districts. The only light coming from the houses you pass. You try to remain in the light but sway slightly into the shadows as you reach the steps of your accommodation.

You scream as you feel hands upon your skin. One going around your mouth to quiet you and the other pulling you back against the house.

"Sh sh, Its just me. It's just me. You're safe".

You feel your kness tremble as you pin the voice to a face. Commander snow stood before you, using his body to press you up against the side of the house. His chest pushed against your shoulders, his leg pushed between yours and melded to the wall behind. He kept his left hand on your right shoulder to keep you still and only removed his right hand from your mouth when you went mute. Who would you scream for that could do anything any way.

With his body pressed against yours in such a tight manner, he had free use of his hands.

You weren't getting out from under him, even you realized that. You looked for guns or knife on him but found nothing in the light the moon and surrounding houses offered. He didn't wear his official Capital issued Commander uniform. Instead he dressed down in high waisted black pants, and a long sleeved cotton shirt. He still wore his dog tags and army boots.

'So this is were you've been hiding, hm?". He ran his knuckles along your cheek bone, and you shuddered from his touch.

"No, Sir".

"yes, Sir. I left boxes at your house like a fool".

You could tell he was upset with you.

"It's fine. You'll be back there tomorrow to take the food in. Did you go through my first box i sent?"

You nod your head and a smile appears on his lips.

'What did you have first?". He pushes back a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"My mother had a apple" You torn it from her after her first bite.

"i asked what you had first". He pressed his body harder against you.

"We haven't touched the box otherwise, Sir. We can give it back to you. We can compensate for the veggies and the fru-"

He was not happy with your answer, cutting you off.

"Ungrateful brat".

"Sir, we never asked you for it and we don't have money to pay for it"

"You're welcome" his pointer runs along your nose, "I can't have my partner in crime going hungry. Now can I".

You shiver from the familiar way of speaking. You did not want the Commander of district 12 to have a nic-name for you.

"I ought to go inside. They are waiting for me".

You try and move away, thinking he would release you. His cover would be blown if they take to looking for you.

He does not, choosing to place his hands around your neck. Not showcasing his great strength but resting in warning. His thumbs press gently into your throat.

"i think they can wait a few more minutes. Don't you?".

You nod as much as his hold would allow you to. You felt as if he was all around you. With his body wedging you flat against the wall, you felt as if you were sharing the same breath.

"you're ok" He repeats, "i am not going to hurt you".

"Perhaps it would put me at ease if you stepped back a bit, sir"

He shakes his head, "You have a habit of running away".

"You have a habit of appearing out of no where".

You can see him grin under the dim light. That was intentional, He always wanted you to feel as if he was always watching and could turn up at any moment.

"Can you make me some more of those oat bars?"

"Ye-yes" you stutter.

"Do you have the ingredients?"

"yes" you repeat.

"Good. Bring them to my office the day after next".

"Yes, Sir. Can I go now?"

"I haven't seen you for nearly two weeks and you're so quick to run away?"

"'Sir, please I Have to get inside". away from you.

"Why were you so late getting home?" he ignored your plea completely.

His thumbs circles on your throat.

"I had to work back" you admit.

"And then?". He already knew that wasn't the full story so you confess you brought some paper and took some time to write a letter.

"A letter?" he asks, "A letter to who?".

"My brother. He went to district 8 for work".

You gasp as he releases you. Giving you a least two feet of space.

"Lets see it" he demands.

With shaky hands you pull the crumpled letter from your pocket. He grabs it before you could hold it out to him.

He rips it open, and pours the two silver coins into his hand, tossing them around.

"My coins".

"My coins" you state, taking a step forward, "For my over time"

Surely he wouldn't find it appealing to take your coins from you. He was commander Snow he didn't need any money in district 12. He could just take. There would be no one to stop him.

"And where do you think your boss got the coins to give you for your over time. Where's the rest of them".

It was a set up. Not hard work and luck that gave you a few extra coins. But an odd infatuation from the officer.

You pull the rest from your pocket showing them to him.

He scoffs, "i gave her eight , she gives you four. I expected her to take two, but four. Does your district know no limits to their greed".

He mentally leaves his sweet girl out of the picture. She had received four and was willingly giving 2 away. He was sure you would also give your mother one and spend the rest wisely. Tigress always brought him new clothes with her overtime. Using old curtains to fashion her own.

You hold out your hand for him to take the coins back.

Much like his tigress, You were giving what you had to him.

"If I had known" you start.

"The point was that you didn't know". He snaps.

You still hold out your hand for him to retrieve the coins.

"Keep them. You earnt them".

You pocket the change. You had really earnt them.

He balls your brothers coins in his fist and moves out more into the light to read your letter. You were so glad you decided to leave Commander Snow out of it.

he reads fast, flipping the page and going on to the next in a matter of seconds.

He nods satisfied that it was in fact a letter to your brother and not a lost lover, before he folds the letter back up and places the coins back in the envelop.

"I'll mail it for you" he offers but you protest at the thought.

'I'd prefer to do it, Commander".

"You don't trust me? After everything we've been through, and the secrets we share".

"No-I-" you were thankful he interrupted you again, unsure of your own sentence.

"We're friends, right?"

You nod having the feeling it wasn't truly a question.

"Friends do things for each other. Let me to this for you".

"It's too big of an ask" you try again. You reach for the letter but he pulls it back.

"You could", a step forward had you going back, " do something for me to ease your conscious".

He moves towards you again until you were once again pressed up against the wall.

"What?" you breathe.

His hand cups your face, and his body braces itself against yours before his lushes lips capture yours.

The kiss is deep and hard, Barely moving off before coming back for more. His tongue licks at the bottom of your lip, sucking gently when you don't let him in.

He repositions his head to a tilt, keeping his top lip pressed against your bottom as he does. He comes back with full force, your head knocking softly against the wall from the force.

"that" another small kiss presses against your lips. A quick peck to your sealed lips.

You turn your head in case of another one, and his hand on the side of your face follows.

He digs into his pocket, pulling out two coins and pressing them into your hand.

"Take the coins. Buy yourself a new dress"

"I don't want-"

He sh's you.

"take the coins, buy the dress and stop avoiding me".

"Thursday" you remind him, the day after next.

"Yes, Thursday. Don't forget. Tomorrow if you can".

The house across the track opens its door and an middle aged women appears throwing a bucket of dirty water over the terrace. Coriolanus shrinks into the shadows until she return back inside.

"Go inside" He demands, stepping back. You rush away from him not looking back as you run into the house. But you feel his stare upon your back.

The next morning two peacekeepers knocked on the door to drive you and your mother back to your house, leaving you with a large basket of food.

'What have you done?" Your mother asks you behind closed doors.

"I am not sure" you reply honestly.

-----------

You make the worst batch of oat meal bars you've ever made and deliver them to the compound.

You were almost sure you were going to be shot as you approached the gate but they must have been expecting you, opening the gate as you neared.

You had tried to just give the basket to the Peacekeeper but he demanded that you go inside with him. You follow him through the large estate.

Peacekeepers old and new were everywhere. Some without their uniform giving them an almost human look. They eyed you as you passed.

They thinned as you reached a stunning white building made of stone. Everything else was structured out of metal so you knew that the building only housed the most important people.

It wasn't any less busy as people ran about you with stacks of paper. It was loud inside the walls. People talking to each other as they walked, some yelling down a telephone. None of them even glance at you or the peacekeeper you followed.

He leads you to a large oak door, twice the length of you, and he knocks three times.

"Come in" you hear Commander Snow call.

The peacekeeper opens the door but makes no attempt to enter the threshold. You do, and the door is immediately closed behind you.

"You couldn't make it yesterday?" he asked crossing his desk to join you in the center. You hold your basket like a protective shield.

It kept you distanced as places his hands on your shoulders.

'i had to go to work" You explain and you push the basket to his chest, attempting to rid his hands from you.

He does take the basket with a small hmm before returning to his desk. He places the basket down and digs for a oat bar. As he bites down you could tell he could taste your lack of effort.

Still he eats it without complaint as he pours coffee from a tray into two mugs. He motions for you to sit down but you were itching to go.

"I should go" you state.

"Sit" his mouth was full with the oat bar.

You do sit but don't drink the coffee offered. You notice that he had better looking biscuits on his tray.

He leans against the desk next to you and takes another big bite of the bar. His eyes wonder down to you where you sat anxious twisting your ring.

"What's that?" he points with the oat bar down.

It was only a small metal ring. Thin pieces of twisted metal in a circle. So small most people never even noticed it.

Your brother had given it to you on your nineteenth birthday as a congratulations for not being selected for the hunger games.

He obviously knew it was a ring, and you obviously knew he was really asking who gave you that.

"A gift from my brother before he left". You stop twisting it to draw attention off it but it was too late.

He finished his oat bar, dusting his hands clean from the crumbs before standing up to full height.

"Give it to me".

You shake your head no. It was the last thing you had of him.

Still Coriolanus held his hand out expecting.

"It's very dear to me, Sir".

"I'll take very good care of it".

You look up at him with pleading eyes, his softens but he doesn't relent.

"You can give it to me or I can take it", he warns.

You almost cry as you twist it off your pointer finger and place it in his palm.

He flips it around his pinky finger, and wedges both hands between his knees.

"There's sugar there if you want it".

You stand up angry.

"I don't want it. I have to get to work".

You attempt to storm off but he catches you with a firm hold on your upper arm and a hand wrapped around the side of your face.

Under his strong fingers you remember your anger could get you killed.

"Don't be upset with me" he pleads.

"I ain't upset" you remark although you eyes brim with tears, "They dock my pay half if i am even a minute late. I have to go".

"I'll walk you to the gate". You wait for him to take the lead.

You find the walk back less busy as people avoid the Commanding officer. He twists the ring in the same anxious manner that you did. He wanted to say something. Offer something in return but could think of nothing that would compensate.

It's too late by the time the journey ends. He pulls open the gate and the Peacekeepers facing forward don't turn.

You could feel his hand on your back and it shoots you forward. He remains at the gate watching you flea from him.

No one asks you why you're crying at work. So long as you are doing your tasks they don't care.

----------

On Saturdays you have a stall in the markets selling your baked goods. Your friend helps you when she has the day off for a portion of the profits.

Today it was sunny. Hot but with a nice cool breeze. People flooded through the stalls. Your cakes sold great, even better with the fresher ingredients from Coriolanus box.

You could sell the oat bars with chocolate on top for nearly double. Chocolate was rare in the districts. Most people had never even tasted it before.

Coriolanus was doing his rounds letting a younger officer with great potential shadow him for the day. He freezes when he saw you.

He had walked these markets two or three times before, Had you always been there? He must have walked past you and your stall and never even noticed. Fate has a mysterious way of working. He was now certain that it pushed you into the compound due to his ignorance while on duty.

You looked beautiful in a white top and tight blue jeans. You had your hair covered in a bandana again and wore your normal work boots.

He put his helmet back on in case you looked over and saw him. He was sure you were still upset about Thursday, and he didn't want to spoil your good mood.

The young solider followed suit. Hiding from sight without question. He might survive district 12.

You laughed with your friend who sat on a milk crate to eat her apple. At her feet lay a brown sack filled food. She quickly closed it to avoid being robbed but Coriolanus had already seen it.

He tightened his hold on his rifle. No doubt it had come from you. from Coriolanus to be more correct. He agreed to feed you, even if that meant feeding your mother too, but he did not agree to feed your friends.

Your next box would be smaller.

A school group blocks his view of you as they pass, and Coriolanus refocus to his surroundings. He sees a young boy, no more then 6, dilly dallying behind the rest of the group. He goes up to each stall looking at what they had to offer before slowly making his way to his class.

He was going to be left behind at his current rate.

"you see the young boy in the red shirt?'' Coriolanus asks his soilder.

"Yes, Sir". The boy flexes his shoulders as if the child poses a threat.

''When he reaches that cake stand, I want you to push him over".

He pats the boys shoulder urging him to go. He looked confused but followed command going over to a nearby stall to yours and pretending to look at something.

The young boy skips two stalls to come directly over to yours. His eyes go round at the sight of the chocolate oat bar.

Your smile gets wipped off as the boy is knocked to the ground. You glare instead at the Peacekeeper who made a lap back to Coriolanus.

The boy screams and crys at his scrapped knee. Coriolanus ducks behind a large pillar as you round your table to pick him up.

You were talking to him, soothing him as you rocked side to side. He reacted positively wrapping his little arms around your neck.

Coriolanus bangs his head against the piler. That was the reaction he was hopping for. To see you in a nurturing state as you consoled the boy.

"is that what you wanted sir?" his solider stood in front of him, and he pushes the boy out of the way. He had blocked the view of you carrying the child and setting him on your table.

You reach behind the crying boy and offer him a chocolate oat bar. His crying almost immediately stops.

"yes. Good. Go back to base and have the rest of the afternoon off solider".

The solider is ecstatic at the news, and with a "thank you, sir" he was pushing himself back through the crowd.

You were talking but he wasn't sure if it was to the boy or to your friend. He wished he knew what you were saying.

You had taken off your bandana and wet it with you water bottle to wipe the blood off his knee.

It was so natural for you, he thought, to care for others. Once you got comfortable enough, how would you care for him, he wondered.

Would you baby him as you babied this child if he got hurt.

he shuffles back realsing that he had itched forwarrd as you picked up the child again. You gave him another bar to eat. He was certain you were talking to your friend this time, looking squarely at her before you took off after the school.

The primary school was located at top of a large hill. Away from the noise and violence of the district.

The young boy clung to you as you walked. His chocolate hands getting over your white top as he licked the icing off.

Coriolanus followed you out of the markets. he waits until you were away from the crowd before picking up his pace to you.

The young boy catches Coriolanus' eye and begins to struggle in your grip, pointing at him. The big scary peacekeeper was coming your way.

You tighten your hold and spin to face him.

You looked shocked to see him.

"Commander Snow, sir"

A formal greeting to someone who had you pinned to the side of a wall four night ago.

He smiles at you. Trying to distract you so he can move closer to you.

"I saw" he says, "and I've come to help you return the lost boy"

"I'll be fine on my own, sir"

"I insist. You never know who lurking around. My job to keep you safe".

Coriolanus was not speaking from his station as commander.

"Do you want me to carry him?" Coriolanus offered looking at the large hill.

"No, no" the boy begs, but Coriolanus reaches for him anyway.

You turn away, curling your body around the child.

"No. It's ok. I've got him".

Coriolanus was sure you were going to struggle getting up the hill with the extra weight. If the boy was only a sack of potatoes, he would have just yanked it from your grip. But you looked so good with a child on your hip.

You could always swap half way if you wanted.

"It's ok, darlin'" you rub soothing circles on the boys back, making Coriolanus jealous, "we're gonna get you back to class".

We're. we. us. The partners in crime.

He bucks his chest out with confidence.

You begin your journey up the hill, and Coriolanus was right. Not even half way up and you had to shift the child around to your front to distribute the weight. Coriolanus goes to take him but you reject his offer once again.

"He's alright" you insist.

The child rests his head on your chest, his eyes staring at Coriolanus as if to say ha ha.

He was about to suggest you perhaps just let the boy walk, but you beat him through the silence.

"Are you following me?"

"i was showing a new candidate the patrol routes. I just happened to have seen you with the boy, and wanted to help you get him back to class as per my duty".

Close enough to the truth.

"And lydia's? how did you know i was staying there?"

His unclips his helmet and attaches it to his rifle.

"I asked around". Threated your neighbors.

You fall into silence again and this time it was Coriolanus who brecks it,

"Are you going to share everything I give you with others?"

You scoff at his words, ''saw me with the child, hey?'".

He grabs your arm to turn you causing the boy to wail again.

'You might find I am a lot more closed fisted if I can't be certain it's actually going to you".

You tear free and bounce the boy in your arms.

"shhh baby. It's all ok'' You smooth his hair back, cradling him to you.

You step away from the scary peacekeeper as you and the boy talk. You soon compliance him back to a settled temperament, and Coriolanus steps back over to you.

He doesn't mention the sharing again. He would wait for the journey back. He found himself childishly annoyed when your attention went all to the small boy.

You huff as the boy gets heavier in your arms but Coriolanus doesn't offer to take him again. He'll let you struggle.

"Why do you feed people you don't know?" the boy sucks on the remainder of the oat bar, slopper getting all over your shoulder.

You don't answer. He calks it up to the physical labor.

"The prisoners, the boy" he pushes. He leaves himself out of the list. You both feed each other because you innately knew each other. You were partners in crime and partners in crime look after one another.

"Who's to say I don't know em".

"I assure you after I was done if the prisoners knew you they would have given you up. They didn't know".

He half regretted his sentence seeing you tense up. But he was sure he left a impression of a strong, powerful man. You just needed to get over your guilt first to see it.

"We look after each other in District 12. It may not seem like it to you but these are good people here".

You looked after people here, he wasn't so sure that they had the same loyalty back.

He had seen enough flips and crumbles to know that for the right price they would feed you to him.

He wanted to tell you this. To set you straight, and show that he was the only one looking out for you. But he knew the information would upset you and he had already done that once this week. He would save it for another time.

You struggle up the hill, puffing out gratefully as the small school house came into view. A large tree marked the boundary, upholding a wire fence around the small metal huts.

You turn to Coriolanus, "I think the gun might scare them".

He take his large rifle off his shoulder and leans it against the tree. Your face still read of your displeasure.

"it might just be best if i go on with him".

He looks to you and then back to the school. He could still see you if he stayed underneath the shade of the tree.

'' I'll wait for you here then''. The gun is slung over his shoulder and he takes its place against the tree.

The boy watches Coriolanus over your shoulder as you walk with him.

You call out to the teacher frantically recounting her children.

"hey, I think you're missing one!". You place the small boy on the ground and wave goodbye to him as he runs over to his teacher, complaints of his sore knee spilling from his mouth.

Turning back to Coriolanus, your smile disappears and your pace that was slow with the child picked up to a near sprint.

He straightened up as you came near but you walked straight past him without looking.

"Do you want children?" He matches your pace

"No" you spat, "never".

Maybe if you met the right man, he wanted to say. A man who could protect them.

But he swallowed the words. This situation was new to him too. He didn't want to make promises he would later not plan to keep.

"You should reconsider" he says instead, "I think you would make a good mother".

You were naturally a very warm and loving person. While others walked around the crying boy you picked him up and nurtured him.

Coriolanus remembered a time in the war he had gone out alone in search of food. He found only hungry dogs, who chased him through the ruined city.

"Help!" he cried, looking back at the fast approaching beasts.

His foot catches a large pothole in the ground and he is thrown upon his face. Sure he was going to get eaten he calls out for Tigress but it is a large man that appears at name.

He bangs the lids of trash cans together and shouts angrily at the dogs, scaring them off.

A savior, he thought. But dropping the lids and turning to Coriolanus, the man didn't cradle the boy to his chest as you had but reached for his axe under his coat and swung it down.

He had managed to roll out of its path and get to his feet just in time.

The man was slower than the dogs, overcome with starvation. Coriolanus could disappear between the buildings. He remembered as he hid in rubble while waiting for the man to pass, how sacred he was.

It was one of the core memories that haunted him to this day.

oh how he wished that someone like you had found him instead, but he wasn't sure people could be like that anymore. He wasn't sure how through all the misery and pain you could remain so soft. He wanted to sink his teeth into your flesh and have a taste.

"What would be the point. Loving someone only to watch them get killed in the hunger games".

You feet come down hard, channeling the anger you couldn't express.

"The chances are small. There are over 300 families in district 12".

He just wanted to hear you say you would like children. The picture of you big and round while rocking a boy the same age as the lost child seemed to be getting hazer as you resisted.

"You should ask Milly May, or Harrison Flint if their chances seemed small".

This years tributes to the Hunger Games. They both died the first day. Milly May the first hour.

"Motherhood looks good on you. Natural" he tries again.

You stop in your tracks, turning to face him.

“I can’t give you what you want. No matter how much you try and sweet talk me or buy me. It won’t be given”.

It didn't matter, was the first thought that appeared in his head.

"I don't want anything from you. In fact, it's been me that's been giving. Food. Protection. All to have it spat back in my face".

Your eyes float down the hill. The beginning of Town was still a little while away.

"I understand, sir. Perhaps your efforts would be appreciated more else where".

It was a gentle let down but resulted in a harsh strike.

His hand came down upon your cheek, almost knocking you to the ground. You stumble off balance, looking up at him.

The anger on his face morphs into disappointment. Before he could reach out for you, you take off running down the hill.

You might be beaten for your rejection.

You feel his hand brush against your shoulder as he tries to grab you but you avoid it.

Pushing yourself down the hill as fast as you could go. But it wasn't fast enough.

He tackles you to the ground, crawling on top of you and securing both your wrists with one hand.

"I am sorry, I am sorry" he holds the side of the face he stuck, smoothing it over, "I shouldn't have done that".

You trash under him, screaming.

His soft hand retracts from your face to take off the rifle from his shoulder, he sets it down next to you.

His dog tags had made their way from under his shirt and now dangle over your face. You can see he had added your ring to the chain.

''Let me see" his hand returns to your jaw, forcing it to the ground on the other side so he could inspect your cheek, "only a little bruise".

He lets your head go back to its normal position, and you're left looking in his eyes.

"What I do, I do for you. Okay? not your friends, and not for anyone else. Do you understand?".

His hand reaches up going to your palm and enclosing your curled hand with his. He held himself up with his hold on your wrists, and with the other now pressed over yours, all his weight bore down on you.

The weight upon your hands hurt.

"Yes, Sir".

"If I find out you've been sharing again. I'll hang them for thievery".

You give two little nods.

"I understand, Sir. It won't happen again. Please, let me get up".

He hops off you. choosing to crouch at your feet as you sit up. He notices your shoe lace untied and begins to pull the laces tight and loop the knot back up.

You sit there stunned as he picks up his gun and rises. Offering you a hand you take it and he pulls you up.

The journey down the hill begins again. His hand reaches out to keep you in pace with him when he feels you propelling down.

You reach the bottom in a comfortable silence and stop at the foot of the hill.

"We can't be seen going back together. It will put a target on my back".

You were right. The district scum might harm you if they thought it would get back at Coriolanus.

He nods in understanding.

"You go ahead. I'll follow". He gestures forward.

You go quickly back to your stall. He tries to keep focus on you but your short stature gets momentarily lost in the crowd.

You reach your stall and go straight back behind it. Your friend is standing next to you talking in a worried hush tone when Coriolanus reaches the table.

You don't look at him as he takes one of the chocolate oat bars and continues walking back to the compound.

It tasted dry in his mouth, he didn't like that you were still baking for others, you were going to have to shut down your stall.

-----------

Coriolanus stood upon the platform at the hanging tree, having it checked for bombs twice.

The gate was swung open for the public, and every available peacekeeper was present and armed.

The convicted all formed a line. Being hung one by one for dramatic effect. The families of the dead being forced to stand at the front of the audience so they could grab their sons/brothers/ cousins shoes as Peacekeepers dropped him and restrung the rope.

Coriolanus forbid traditional burial for traitors of the country. Families would have to settle for burying the shoes of their deceased love one while their bodies are cremated and sent to Dr Gaul's office as decoration.

"Phineas Hightower. Sentenced to death for consorting with rebels and making plans of an attack. Disturbing the peace of the district".

Coriolanus read into a microphone that fed through the town.

A young man approaches. 30 at the most. He didn't look scared as the others did. No tears or pleas of innocence. Coriolanus almost respected him.

The man kicks off his shoes as he steps upon the box, and a loud cry of grief overtook the space. The mockingjays echoed it out.

Peacekeepers were on the old women, presumably his mother, fast. Focus must be kept on the fate of the traitor, and not on the cries of mothers.

The old women reaches for her sons shoes but is shoved before she could reach them. She pleas with the officers taking her to the back, but they are like statues as they manhandle her away.

Coriolanus could now see tears spring in the eyes of the young man. A befitting end for a capital traitor.

He gives the order to continue the show. They ready the man for execution.

More commotion is heard as the crowd readjusts to let someone through. He looks to see you making your way through the crowd to the front.

Had you come to see him. Watch him as he took life. Does the power fill your belly with excitement to know that the same hands that caressed you now commanded death of another.

You wanted to make yourself known to him. To let him know he had a friend in the crowd. You had dressed pretty for him back in your clothes you wore for your vaccination. A nod to your secret bond.

You left the bandana off, letting your loose hair fall around your shoulders.

But no. You don't come to his side of the stage. You rush to the soon to be dead man.

You grab the shoes, just as the box is kicked. You squeeze your eyes shut and bring them to your chest.

Coriolanus steps back to the guards behind him.

He nods in your direction, "Take that girl to my study. Make sure she doesn't leave".

Coriolanus hears the body drop, and the Guard move to catch you.

You hadn't moved since the rope stretched. You stood there eyes closed and shoes to your chest until you felt hands upon you telling you to move.

You look back at Coriolanus on the stage to see him looking down at you.

The rage in your eyes matches his.

---------

Coriolanus makes a trip to the bathroom to wash his face and make himself more presentable. He takes off his official hat, and unbuttons the top of his jacket.

You had been waiting for him for nearly an hour and a half. Having to wait for the rest of the hangings to finish, the crowd to go home, the peacekeepers to sweep the area and the final report from all leaders to Coriolanus before he dismisses them for the night.

He untucks his chain from his neck and holds your ring in his hand.

You were still his girl. Just unshaped still.

Placing the hat under his arm he makes his way to you in his study. The Peacekeeper stood guard at the door.

"You can leave" he tells the man, before entering.

He sees you shoot up from the chair as he closes the door behind him.

You had been crying. He could see the tear lines still wet on your face.

"What were you doing at the hanging?". He storms over to you. He was giving you an opportunity to satisfy him.

I was there to see you but the women upset me. He wanted you to say.

"Leave me alone. i have to get these shoes home" You try and push past him but he shoves you down into the chair. Resting his weight upon the arms of it as he leaves over you.

"I've told you once, associating with rebels will get you hanged".

"his mother won't have a body to burry. She will have his shoes".

It was the first time you hadn't called him Sir in a conversation.

He wanted to slap you until you did.

But his hands were busy taking the shoes from you.

"Now she won't have shoes either. She can burry a memory".

You push the chair back to escape him. He could tell you wanted to hit him. Your fists balled and your stance was ready to swing.

"Come here" he demanded. It gnawed at him that you were upset with him. He was only doing his job.

"Give me the shoes" you demanded.

He drops the shoes to the ground.

"come and get them" he taunts.

You seem hesitant but you do, bending down at his feet to retrieve the shoes.

He grabs your jaw once your knee height and you struggle against him.

"Tell me I am taking good care of you" He pushes down as you try and get up. "Tell me how handsome I am".

You weren't truly mad at him, only overcome with emotion, he assured himself. But he too felt heavy after hanging days.

he had wanted to rest in your arms, similar to the boy with the scraped knee. But you offered him no comfort.

This time you do strike him across the face. He shoves you away and you scramble far, taking one shoe with you.

He begins to laugh, would every comfort be denied to him. No, not you.

"Don't you ever touch me again. You stay away from me from now on".

He was going to make you regret ever saying those words to him. You were going to give him every drop of kindness you held even if he had to wring it from your body. he deserved it after everything he had been through. You were his reward for it all, and by god he was going to have it.

But not now. Now he opened the door for your freedom, watching you run out.

He would make sure you came crawling back. Telling him you wanted his great care again. Telling him how handsome he was.

He would have you all. How much pain you wanted to go through first was entirely up to you.

[kbandtrash]

Less Than Three (Hongjoong x Reader)

~Rachel~

@sorryimananti-romantic hahaha remember how I said I was the slowest writer ever? Apparently that's not true because it only took me a month and a half to write this. I need help

Content: fluff, a whole lot of delusional one-sided pining (the cute kind though) (from him), silly middle school antics from both teachers and students, betting, friends to lovers

Summary: Kim Hongjoong teaches middle school math and finds himself absolutely smitten with you, the math department's newest hire. You're the last person to find out.

Note: This is set in an American-style middle school because that's where my teaching experiences have been and I figured my best work would come out of the system I'm most familiar with

Word Count: 11.5k

Why did Hongjoong choose middle school?

He asks himself this question every day as well

If he wanted to be a math teacher, high school was clearly a better option

But no he had started out in a middle school, promising to take a high school position as soon as one opened up

And now he was actively avoiding high school principals that wanted to recruit him

Is it because he found out the math is easier to explain and the kids really aren’t that bad?

Yeah sure

But this year he had another reason to stay

See his math department had a position open up this summer and as he got to take part in interviews to select a new hire

He fell in love

Now that was not the whole reason he advocated to hire you

In fact your credentials as a math teacher

The places you had taught before

Your praxis exam scores

Your recommendation letters

The professional development programs you were a part of

Test scores from your previous classes

The way you understood math

And especially the way you believed that every student had the potential to pass your class

All of these made you the obvious choice and everyone else agreed

But he was struck several times with Cupid’s arrows throughout the interview and that absolutely did not hurt his opinion of you as a potential colleague

On this particular morning his excuse to talk to you before classes started for the day was a test for your 7th graders

Which they would be taking next Friday

Your feedback always ended up being valuable anyway so there was no need for this to be an “excuse” but it got to be one anyway

You were typing something up when he knocked on the open door to your classroom to announce his presence

You finished typing your sentence before you looked up, and when you saw Hongjoong leaning against the door frame with some papers in his hand, you greeted him with a smile and a wave

He wondered if it would look unprofessional if he grew out his hair to cover his ears

You looked gorgeous today (every day) and he knew there was no stopping his ears from turning bright red

“I have the unit tests for 7th,” he said, stealing a chair from a desk to sit backwards on while he talked to you

“Oh good!” you replied. “I’ll take a look at those and get them back to you by lunch”

Buy lunch he thought

That sounded like an excellent idea

He should buy you lunch

He didn’t say that though

“Works for me. How was your weekend?”

And he stalled and stalled and stalled until the first bell rang and he had to get out to hall duty

At lunch he walked in again while you were putting in assignment scores and munching on some pretzel sticks

“I made a key for that new assignment we decided to add for 8th grade. Can you check answers if you get the time?”

His heart did a little flip as you covered your mouth with your hand while you finished chewing

How could you be so graceful and polite?

And your hands were so pretty wow

“Yes just as soon as I finish putting these in. And—” you turned your chair around and grabbed something from behind you— “here are the 7th tests from this morning. I added a couple notes on the integer operations review questions, but other than that, I think they’re great”

He unfortunately did need to go and eat his own lunch and fulfill other teacherly lunchtime duties so he couldn’t stall as much as this morning

But he read your notes on the way back to his classroom

And boy he could have lived in your handwriting

The pen that you used was the perfect instrument to capture every letter, every dot, every loop in a way that encapsulated your personality

And as soon as he caught himself thinking that he knew he needed to ask the home ec teacher to smack him over the head with a frying pan because wowie

He would need professional help in order to date you like a normal person at this point

Anyway he was practically skipping back after lunch because he came up with another question to ask you

There were students there so instead of using your first name he caught your attention by calling you Miss (L/N)

Which for some reason gives him more butterflies than calling you normally

This time luckily instead of giving you a new task it was a task he could do for you

“How many copies of the activity page should I put you down for?”

“Ooh good question”

You put your finger over your lips as you counted on your other hand and he had to actively look away and think about other things

There were students present after all

“Which classes are you doing it with?” you ended up asking

He used the opportunity to set a hand down on your desk and lean forward in a cool pose

“I’m making the eighth graders do it but it’s extra credit for the seventh”

“That sounds like a good plan to me. So sixty for the eighth graders and then how many do you think I would need if it’s optional?”

Oh boy he loved it when you asked for advice

It gave him the chance to look cool and smart and he always got to play it off as the humble senior teacher

“I do half just to be safe. Plus then you have extra if you want to do it again later in the year or even next year”

And then your face did that thing it did when you liked a suggestion he gave

Your face lit up with your eyebrows raised and your mouth in a little “ooh”

There were students around there were students around

“Okay then sixty for the eighth graders and forty-five for seventh. A hundred and five?”

He scribbled the number down on the copy request form

“Excellent. I’ll run this down then”

He gave you a smile and a wave as he went to attend to his own class

Which you returned

And he was sure his heart would never physically recover from the stress it was under this year

You didn’t need to know that you were the only other teacher he was sharing this particular activity page with

He would give it to the other teachers if they asked him for it but he wasn’t going to go out of his way for this one because it was kind of silly and short

But he would do anything to make your first year at a new school just a little bit easier

Back in his classroom he tried to get class started when one of his eighth graders had the audacity to raise his hand and say the following:

“You just walked back from Miss (L/N)’s class huh?”

Mr. Kim squinted suspiciously at the student

“Yeah…why”

“You’re way nicer when you go to her class before our class starts”

Before he had any time to figure out what that meant, the class exploded in giggles and shouts of agreement

“Yeah you smile a lot more this year than you did last year” a girl who had had his class the previous year as well agreed

And then from the back corner

One of the notorious trouble makers stood up

Pointed his finger up at poor Mr. Kim, who was now considering taking a high school position again

And shouted “Mr. Kim has a crush on Miss (L/N)!!!”

There was no longer any hope for this class

Exponent rules? Down the drain

Hongjoong was now a laughingstock

Irredeemable in front of a bunch of 13-14 year olds

So he stood with his hands clasped behind his back, lips pursed, and his eyes dangerously blank

It wasn’t long before kids started shushing each other

Even once they were quiet, he held their attention for a second longer

“If you have two to the fourth times two to the third, what’s the product?” he asked clearly, writing the problem on the whiteboard in new black marker

Not addressing the issue would not stem the tide of curious teenagers for long but it would have to be a band-aid solution until he figured out how to do this properly

Because he couldn’t allow rumors to spread that he liked you because firstly unprofessional and secondly what if you heard them and thought he was weird

But he couldn’t lie and allow rumors to spread that he definitely didn’t have a crush on you because firstly. unprofessional kids don’t need to know about that stuff

Like they think they’re all mature and old enough to date when they can’t even drive yet like can you imagine as a teenager asking your mom to drive you to your date with your girlfriend. Embarrassing

BUT SECONDLY

What if you heard the rumors and maybe you did like him back and it crushed your heart to hear that he didn’t like you

While the kids were working on their assignment and he was working on his computer he decided the best way to explain this to them

If they ever brought it up again

Was that they’re always in a better mood when they get to talk to their friends, right?

You’re a good friend and it’s fun working with you

The other math teachers are fun too but you’re close to his age so it makes sense that you would be closer

Yep

Good explanation Mr. Kim

Literally just one day later the kids bring it up again and they do not buy his explanation

They don’t even pretend to because their brains are not developed enough to have that kind of social tact

And the rumor doesn’t exactly spread like wildfire around the school but everyone knows about it you know what I mean

Except you actually

You’re usually very aware of everything going on in your classroom but somehow this particular subject escaped your attention

You learned early on that for some reason kids don’t have shame anymore in spilling their guts to the classroom about what they’re gossiping about

So the usual “if you can’t wait to tell your friend later then tell the whole class now” classroom management tactic is now useless

So you didn’t do that instead you just asked them which problem they’re helping their friend with and if they’re not helping their friend with math then they should get back on task

You didn’t think that any middle school level gossip could actually be that interesting anyway so yeah you had no idea that kids were shipping the teachers

And you didn’t want to know

So you stayed blissfully ignorant

While Hongjoong was lowkey agonizing over it

Now you and Hongjoong tend to eat lunch in your own classrooms rather than the staff lounge

Because why use up any more social energy than necessary right

But there is a vending machine in the staff room and Hongjoong was craving something sweet one day

And when he walked in the other teachers in there suddenly went awkwardly silent

And he knew

They were talking about him

Yeah he should take a high school position next year

Two of the younger teachers, Jung Wooyoung from the history department and Choi San from the phys ed department, broke the silence giggling to each other

“Sorry Hongjoong” San apologized “the kids are just hilarious these days. They’re so excited about you and (Y/N) it’s adorable”

Hongjoong gave them a look

“Adorable?”

“Well firstly you” Wooyoung pointed out “I never thought I’d see you fall head over heels but I totally get it. She’s super cool”

“And secondly the kids” San continued “any time you guys are talking in the hall I have all of the girls talking about it during warm ups. The boys all think of you as their role model when it comes to liking a girl”

“That reminds me!” Wooyoung interrupted “I actually did have a boy confess to a girl in my class the other day and you wanna know what he told her??”

Hongjoong’s eyebrows furrowed in a glare, absolutely sure that his reputation was never going to recover

“He said ‘I like you more than Mr. Kim likes Miss (L/N)’”

The teachers tried to tone down their laughter out of respect

Hongjoong wanted to leave immediately but this stupid vending machine was having issues

“And then you know what she said back?”

Wooyoung was having trouble holding himself together

His eyes were shining a little with tears of laughter

“She said ‘That’s impossible. No one can like anyone more than Mr. Kim likes Miss (L/N)’”

The other teachers could not hold it back anymore

The vending machine finally gave Hongjoong his candy bar

(Plus the extra one he bought for you)

So he made his way swiftly back towards the door

“Oh no no wait” Wooyoung called after him

“Tests to grade” Hongjoong lied simply

“No come on you have to hear this”

Hongjoong stopped at the door, fighting the urge to classroom manage his coworkers

He looked back both unimpressed and expectant at the same time

“Okay everyone raise your hands if you betted on before Christmas break” Wooyoung called out

Some of the teachers looked at him like he had just asked out a widow at her husband’s funeral

But they raised their hands sheepishly anyway

“Great yes and after Christmas break?”

The other half raised their hands, most of them looking like they wished that had eaten lunch in their own classrooms

“These are bets on when you’re going to ask her out” Wooyoung explained cheerfully

“Wasn’t someone also trying to get bets going on whether you would confess first or she would notice first?” San asked

“That was also me” Wooyoung said with a grin

The lounge door opened again and in walked the principal and one of the vice principals

Hongjoong thought this was finally the end to this stupid conversation

But no

“Oh Hongjoong!” the principal greeted him with a pat on the arm “I’ve got $50 on you dating before Christmas. Don’t let me down”

Waiting until the end of the school year to take a new position would simply not be soon enough

Hongjoong needed to find a new job or retire within the month

But then on the way back to his classroom he remembered he had an extra candy bar for you

So he made a detour

But what greeted him was a closed door with the window on the door covered

He hadn’t ever seen your door shut like this before so he wasn’t sure what it meant exactly

Maybe you went out to lunch today?

Then he could just nab one of your sticky notes and leave the candy bar on your desk with a positive message

He would rather give it to you himself, but the idea of you finding the candy bar on your desk later made his chest feel all warm and cozy so it was fine

Your door was unlocked, so he pulled it open just enough so he could see inside

And you were in there actually

Slumped in your desk chair with your head in your hands

Oh

Oh no

Hongjoong had been there before

Every teacher had been there before

The work of a teacher isn’t as easy as most people would like to believe

Especially for middle school, and even more so for math, it takes someone with unending patience and courage to help kids learn every day

And some days that patience and courage runs a little thinner than other days

Even experienced teachers wonder from time to time if it’s worth the soul that they give to their classes

The classes that seem sometimes not to notice one way or the other if you’re teaching or not

You hadn’t noticed that you weren’t quite alone anymore, so that left Hongjoong with a choice to make

Did he let you have this moment to yourself?

Or did he try to help you through it?

He closed the door as softly as he could

And then he gave a little knock to give you some privacy and some time to gather yourself

Then he opened the door and stepped halfway through

“The vending machine spat out two candy bars instead of one” he lied with a grin, holding up the extra candy bar and wiggling it between his fingers

You had sat up and were resting your chin on your hand curiously

But there was definitely a downtrodden aura about you that he couldn’t miss

“That’s pretty lucky,” you replied

He took that as permission to enter and on his way to your desk he snagged his usual chair to sit backwards on

“How’s today going so far?” he asked as if he knew nothing, setting the candy bar down on top of your closed computer

“Oh, you know,” you sighed

He chuckled, opening his candy bar, not making eye contact with you to relieve some pressure for you to keep up an act

“That good, huh?”

You laughed in return

“Just got my butt kicked by a bunch of seventh graders, so yeah, it’s kind of whatever right now”

Ah the teacher equivalent of “I want to quit my job and hide in my bed for the rest of my life”

“Oh, yep, I’ve been there more than once” he said with a nod “and sometimes there’s really nothing you could have done better, you know? Kids are just like that sometimes. It makes me glad I’m not an elementary school teacher”

“Oh my word yes” you agreed, finally picking up the candy bar “at least I can kick these gremlins out after 45 minutes and I don’t have to see them again until the next day. I can’t imagine being with the same class all day”

Did Hongjoong end up squandering his entire eating time just to talk with you and make sure you felt better?

Yes

He would have to sneak bites of his sandwich in between activities during his afternoon classes

But like it wasn’t the first time he’d had to do that and heaven knew it wouldn’t be the last

At least he had a good reason today instead of something stupid like he was lost in the test grading sauce and forgot to eat

He proceeded to get his butt kicked by his afternoon classes because he couldn’t wipe his lovefool smile off his face

But it was okay because once again it wasn’t the first time and heaven knew it wouldn’t be the last

Not long after came the hallowed and hated teacher inservice day

Professional development day

Both a huge waste of time and a relaxing little work day

The administrators usually planned a series of workshops for the morning that all looked. well. kind of stupid but it was all planned with good intention

Then it was lunch time

And then after that you had until the end of contract hours to do whatever pretty much

The math department liked to go to lunch together and then have a really productive planning meeting until people got bored and then it was individual prep time pretty much

Mostly it was just kinda nice to be at school without kids there

This year was no exception to all of this

But Mr. Principal had $50 on the line and decided to play matchmaker about it

For each of the workshops the teachers were split into groups

And you and Hongjoong had been placed together every single time

Somehow you genuinely thought it was just good luck

Hongjoong was hyperaware of every other teacher looking and pointing and giggling and you were so peacefully oblivious to it

The first workshop was about medical emergency training, specifically training teachers in case of allergy or diabetic emergencies

As soon as the nurse finished with the epipen instructions you leaned over to Hongjoong and whispered “like this?” 

And stabbed him with the fake epipen right in the thigh

Hongjoong swore he was going to die right then and there because why was that so attractive???

“Four…five…six…seven…eight…” you counted out, holding the epipen in place for the full ten seconds

And like a good patient he sat like a statue because his circuits were absolutely fried

You glanced up at his face and your expression immediately dropped

You checked the epipen all over to make sure it was just a trainer

(It was)

“Hongjoong are you okay?? Your face is all red did I do something wrong?” you worried

He unfroze and tried to undo the damage of his Little Moment but the nurse was already over at the table taking a closer look at him after dismissing the rest of the teachers to practice

She looked at you and then at Hongjoong and then at you again and back at Hongjoong and a funny look of understanding came over her face

“Are you Mr. Kim the math teacher” she asked

He nodded awkwardly

“And are you Miss (L/N) the math teacher” she asked

“Yes?” you answered

She patted Hongjoong on the shoulder

“He’ll be fine in a minute or so” she reassured you, glancing up and away somewhere else

You both followed her gaze over to the principal, who gave her a bright smile and a thumbs up

Which looked innocuous enough to the untrained eye

But to Hongjoong this was just another in a long list of embarrassments

The principal had told the guest workshop speakers about him

And he had been spotted that easily

After that was administration-provided snack time

Hongjoong offered to grab sodas if you would grab chips and stuff

And at the soda table he was greeted by Wooyoung and San, who called him affectionately Mr. Traffic Light

Hongjoong resisted the urge to react publicly

Even though there were no children around he refused to allow himself to be caught cursing them out

But he brainstormed violently about the ways he could get back at them without getting caught

Truly his middle school teacher powers of ignoring were activated because those two were practically dancing around him trading one-liner after one-liner and Hongjoong paid them no mind

Until he realized they were following him back to the table where he was sitting with you

He did not need them teasing him around you so he tried to shoo them off

But Wooyoung gleefully turned his attention up to the projector screen where the groupings for the next workshop were displayed

Truly your presence was the only saving grace this day had to offer

They were in this group with you two

The computer teacher/school tech support guy was leading this workshop and he was showcasing how one might use ai in their classroom

And all four of you were totally zoned out because firstly ai in a math classroom?? For what

Chat bots are notoriously bad at math

Ai in San’s gymnasium? Once again no practical application

And Wooyoung honestly just wasn’t that interested because none of you were listening so he didn’t feel like he had to either

So he decided flirting with you was more fun

Just to make Hongjoong mad

But for all of his whispered pick up lines and compliments you had approximately the same response as to this ai workshop:

Playing gamepigeon with Hongjoong under the table

(Which Hongjoong had initiated by the way)

(And you had perpetuated after destroying him at the mini golf game)

Aka you ignored Wooyoung pretty well

So Hongjoong got to glare over at him with the peace of mind that your attention was fully his right then

San tapped your shoulder and asked for your number

Which you gave him a little too easily for Hongjoong’s continued peace of mind

But then San just made a group chat for the four of you to play uno together for the remainder of the workshop

So Hongjoong decided that actually this setup wasn’t so bad

The last workshop was unfortunately much more important so the four of you couldn’t continue slacking off

The principal was running this one and it was genuinely for the betterment of the school environment

Plus San and Wooyoung were sent off to other groups

So it was the two of you and a few other senior teachers that were going to have a discussion about one of the behavior initiatives that the school was trying out

You were the only two math teachers in the group, so when the principal passed out data that had been collected about this behavior initiative, the other teachers sort of automatically passed the papers to you

(And the science teachers in the group but that’s irrelevant)

There was only one copy of each dataset, so that meant you got to share

And that meant that you got to scoot your chairs close together to look at the paper at the same time

And even better the text was kind of small so you had to bring the papers close to your faces to read them

So the two of you were shoulder to shoulder

Practically cheek to cheek, your heads almost touching

To read this data and explain it to the less number-savvy teachers

Today was actually pretty fantastic so far, Hongjoong thought

He also wondered if you could physically feel the heat coming off of his face but that was not something he was going to let bother him right then

He was going to live in the moment

And perhaps thank the principal later

After a surprisingly productive and insightful discussion

It was finally ~lunch time~

The math department gathered up in the department head’s classroom to decide which of the nearby restaurants to choose to go to

And no one could agree

Not a single person was feeling like eating the same thing

Except Hongjoong he was agreeing with whatever you said

Not just because he wanted you to have your way but because whatever you said sounded good to him too

Maybe it sounded good because you said it but nonetheless

And then the department head said the following fateful words:

“How about you two just go ahead and we’ll try to decide on something for the rest of us

Hongjoong was suspicious right then and there that this was a setup

The department head probably had money on Before Christmas

But Hongjoong was absolutely not going to let this opportunity slip through his fingers

“I’m cool with that” you answered before Hongjoong could gather his thoughts enough to say anything

Then you turned to him

“I need to go grab my purse from my classroom. Do you need anything from yours?”

“Oh, yeah, just my wallet” he answered totally on autopilot

You stopped by your classroom first and then his since his was closer to the front of the school

He was so excited to finally realize that dream of his from a few weeks back

He was gonna buy you lunch

And not only that it was just the two of you going out to lunch

It didn’t matter that this wasn’t a date

Or that technically you were just gonna buy food and eat it back at school

It was special to him to go somewhere with just you 

That wasn’t school

Seriously he was so happy he couldn’t stop smiling when he told the cashier that your orders were together and he was going to pay

You kinda elbowed him and told him he didn’t have to do that

But he just shrugged and turned his smile on you

“But I wanted to” he replied

You accepted that

“It’s on me next time” you promised

And oh man he could have died right there he felt so complete

Except if he died then there would be no next time

But you were saying next time and it made him think that wow yeah this would happen again

You meant if it ever happened again but he was determined that it was a certain for the future

Because even if it didn’t happen by chance then he would make it happen himself

When you got back to the school the rest of the math department was gone so you started eating without them

And that was a magical moment of peace too

Just the two of you

No one around to tease Hongjoong

He could almost pretend you were just normal friends and he wasn’t head over heels for you

Then the rest of the department came back and they all had food from the same restaurant

So Hongjoong had been right to be suspicious earlier

It was most definitely a setup to get the two of you by yourselves

And he liked it so he wasn’t going to complain about it

Even though it was embarrassing

Well as fun as professional development day ended up being

Parent teacher conferences were not

Hongjoong was looking forward to more Mr. Principal shenanigans

Like maybe when all the teachers were in the gym yours and his table could be next to each other

And he could talk to you when neither of you had any parents

And when the night was wrapping up

And he could walk you out to your car because it was dark

And maybe treat you to dinner because the school-provided food wasn’t usually that great

But no

None of that could happen

Because someone had decided to have teachers stay in their classrooms for conferences this year

The parents would have the wonderful opportunity to get lost in their child’s school trying to find all of their classes

What a joke

They were probably going to get so many complaints they would switch it back to normal next semester

But the one time Hongjoong was looking forward to parent teacher conferences

Of course

Was the one time they had to switch it up

The one silver lining in this was the teachers complaining about it together

Hongjoong’s favorite email he had ever received was now from Wooyoung

Who was replying to the email notifying teachers of the different setup this year but just to Hongjoong

In all lowercase:

“hey loverboy u see this crap

math teacher romancephobic fr smh”

And then with his full professional email signature at the bottom

This precious email was moved to Hongjoong’s funny emails folder, which was usually reserved for unhinged student emails

He did not reply to it

San and the other phys ed teachers were joking about how nice it would be to have the gym to themselves for once but they were in agreement that this probably wouldn’t last

Of course the math department had tests scheduled across all the grades right before conferences

Which of course left everyone grading like crazy

And of course the kids trashed the classrooms the day before

And of course the head janitor ended up getting sick

So it was up to the teachers to make sure their classrooms didn’t look like trash

Even though they had 150+ tests to grade and a pile of late work to grade

And they had 24 hours (7 of which were going to be spent teaching, and hopefully 7-8 would be spent sleeping) to make this all work before parents started showing up at 4 o’clock tomorrow afternoon

What a time this was going to be

So Hongjoong picked up his pile of tests and went to your classroom

Predictably you were grading tests

He stole a student desk and moved it close to your desk

“Which tests are you working on?” he asked

“Eighth” you replied, not looking up from the test you were currently grading

“How does this sound” he began “I’ll take your seventh and you take my eighth so we don’t have to switch answer keys?”

Still barely looking up, you handed him three binder-clipped stacks of paper

“As long as you don’t mind working to music” you replied, your eyebrows raising as a little smile played on your lips

He took your tests and handed you his eighth grade tests

(This worked out nicely as you both had three classes of seventh and two classes of eighth. He was tricking you into letting him take the heavier load ohoho so sneaky)

(He was just lucky you were grading eighth instead of seventh first)

“Don’t mind?” he snickered, uncapping his favorite felt-tip grading pen “I’d prefer it”

And that’s how speed grading turned into karaoke

Grading went almost certainly slower than it would have if you had worked alone but it was way more fun this way

Of course he ended up with sixty some more tests to grade than you

So when you finished you left for a bit and came back with snacks

As well as his pile of late work

He tried to protest but no no

“You’re not nearly as sneaky as you think you are Mr. Kim” you teased him “You thought you could fool a math teacher into thinking we had an equal workload here?”

“That wasn’t the point” he whined, trying to put the cap back on his pen and inking his finger instead

“Then what was the point?”

I love you that’s the point

But what was the point actually

What was a point he could believably tell you without giving himself away

“Just…because” he said convincingly, shrugging his shoulders and settling back into his tests “You look stressed these days. Wanted to do something nice I guess”

You brandished his late work stack again

“So I’m going to do something nice too”

Yeah he probably wouldn’t ever feel this way about anyone ever again

For him at this point it was you or nothing

But the problem was he was willing to let it be nothing for far too long

He would never make a single move unless he knew you were okay with it

Because if he and his stupid heart ruined whatever you had going now then it would really be nothing

He wouldn’t give up the something he still had

He was like a curve approaching an asymptote

He could get infinitely close, but he would never actually touch you

After settling your gradebooks for tomorrow you started by picking up your classroom together

This did go faster with music by the way

And then you picked up his classroom together

And then he realized Hongjoong realized he could have his wish

The one about walking you out to your car and taking you out to dinner

Walking you out was easy but taking you out was another story

He would have to suggest it himself

A little known fact about teachers is that they became teachers because they don’t know how/don’t want to talk with other adults

Kids don’t judge you if something comes out of your mouth a little different than you meant it

Other adults are mean and judge you over silly things

This unfortunately meant that he didn’t know how to ask you to go to dinner with him without making it sound like a date

He was kinda just hoping a lil Kdrama moment would happen and one of your stomachs would rumble really loud so he could laugh it off and say you should go eat together

But you got closer and closer to your car and no tummy rumbling

You got to your car and no tummy rumbling

You opened your door and said goodbye and still no tummy rumbling

“Wait!!!”

He could have slapped his own mouth

You were a little startled but it stopped you from getting in your car

“Hmm?”

“Just uh…it’s kinda late and snacks are great but they’re not that filling…so do you wanna um…” he trailed off and did not finish his thought

“Wanna what?” you asked

Big boy pants Hongjoong come on

“Go grab dinner? Or something?” he finally spat out

He must not have seen your face light up in the dark

“No pressure” he added when you didn’t answer within 0.05 seconds

“No that sounds great! I was thinking of grabbing something on the way home anyway and it would be way more fun to do it with someone else” you accepted

He let you pick the place again and you drove separately because after you would be going in different directions

But it ended up being a nice little fast casual restaurant

And it didn’t feel like a date really but it kinda felt like a date but no it didn’t

It just ended up being a comfortable little outing between friends

Hongjoong knew he couldn’t stop smiling

And he wondered if you already knew how he felt about you

He was sure he didn’t smile like this at anyone else

And you were many things but dense couldn’t possibly be one of them

He knew he was the opposite of subtle

But if you were willing to spend time with him like this then that meant he didn’t make you uncomfortable

Honestly he was so used to the way you made him feel at this point that loving you from afar felt like second nature

Being friends with you was enough if he could keep loving you like this

The waiter came by and asked if it was one check or two

And Hongjoong was fully prepared to pay once again

But you beat him to it

You were already prepared with your card and everything

“I owe you for last time, remember?” you told him with a cheeky grin

He shook his head

“You don’t owe me anything”

“Well then next time it’s on you”

Hongjoong started to smile again

“Next time?”

“Well, yeah” you said with a shrug, now a little bashful “This was fun. We should keep doing it”

“It is fun” he agreed with a laugh “It’s nice to hang out with people outside of school for once”

You laughed at that

“Oh boy tell me about it. Nobody told me that teaching would ruin my social life”

And things just kind of continued like that for a while

Before you had come to the school, Hongjoong had lowkey felt like he was kind of going nowhere with his life

Any time he spent at school outside of his contract hours felt like an infringement on his personal time

Or not even at school, just away from home

He had been hoping that taking a high school position would give him back a little bit of the passion for teaching that he was losing

He hadn’t even been teaching that long it’s just that the profession really is like that

Indescribably rewarding and incredibly draining all at the same time

(Especially these days. Sometimes you really wonder if it’s worth it)

But having something to look forward to every day besides a favorite class ended up being what he needed to love his job wholeheartedly again

It wasn’t just you he had fallen in love with

He had also found new friends in an unlikely place

The math department was like family and he enjoyed their company dearly

But that weirdo phys ed teacher and obnoxious history teacher had turned into excellent friends frighteningly fast

Sometimes they joined you and Hongjoong on your dinner outings

And honestly it was such a blast

An amendment to my previous statement about teachers being teachers because they don’t like talking to other adults:

Other teachers often do not count as other adults

Sometimes they do when you have to have grown up conversations

But gossiping about students does not count as grown up conversation

There were some eighth graders that all four of you had

Hongjoong not currently but he’d had them for previous classes and they were now in your class

Was it a little embarrassing as 20 somethings to have your main source of gossip be preteens?

Yeah but oh man there is nothing like finding out which of your students are lying to their other teachers about the work they need to do

Or what they’re like in other classes

(You and Hongjoong, and sometimes Wooyoung, tended to have very different opinions about some students than San did so it was double fascinating)

Who they’re friends with outside of your class

Or crushes they have on each other

Basically if you spend every day around preteens you gossip like them too

It was now November and starting to get uncomfortably cold outside

So San had offered his home as a little gathering space for you all to order food and hang out

It was almost like a little Friendsgiving

“Any of you have (male student name, obnoxious connotation)?” Wooyoung asked, taking a sip of his soda

You immediately scoffed

“I’m about to write an email home about that kid”

Hongjoong was surprised

Annoying kids existed in every class but you usually had something nice to say about them at first at least before you got into the bad behavior

He hadn’t had this particular student but he was intrigued as to why he annoyed you so much

Wooyoung and San also both looked surprised

“He’s great in gym—like cooperative, doesn’t do stupid stuff too often—” San said “but that doesn’t usually mean anything about how they are in math class”

“No he’s great in history too” Wooyoung added “finishes all his work on time, helps his friends with theirs if he finishes”

Your eye might have twitched a little bit

You let out an unamused laugh and crossed your arms over your chest

Hongjoong was fascinated and quite enamored with this new side of you

“If he has time to help his friends then he should be working on the seven late assignments I’ve been reminding him about. He hasn’t turned in anything for two weeks”

Wooyoung gasped and covered his mouth

“You’re joking”

“I’ve talked to him about it twice and I warned him if I had to remind him a third time then I would email his parents” you said, shaking your head “Like I asked him if he’s understanding the material, if he’s got something going on at home, if he needs some help, and he’s giving me nothing to go off of”

Wooyoung smiled devilishly

“He’s been lying to me, then. I ask him every day if he has other classes to do stuff for and he says no. I will absolutely be getting on him about that”

San shook his head

“Teenagers” he sighed

Everyone nodded and repeated what he’d said

“Teenagers.”

After a moment of silence, Hongjoong spoke up

“How about (female student name, pleasant connotation)?”

The mood lifted immediately and everyone gave their own version of the word “aww”

“She is the highlight of my whole day” you said

“Seriously she’s so polite and she tries so hard even when she’s having a hard time” Wooyoung agreed

“Super athletic too” San added

“Ooh and (male student name, pleasant connotation)?” you said to another chorus of agreement “He’s kind of a punk sometimes but he’s another one that always does his best”

Hongjoong smiled

Complaining was fun, but he loved the light in your eyes when you talked about the parts of the job that you loved

Anyway as I said it was November and the Before Christmas faction of teachers was starting to get nervous because there was no sign of anything happening

They saw you walk out together more than usual but they didn’t know that you were meeting up outside of school and stuff

The kids were also more riled up about it than usual

To the point where Hongjoong wondered if the other teachers were inciting chaos on purpose

It was getting bad enough that one of his classes almost failed a test across the board—on a unit about rounding and converting fractions to decimals of all things

As in the easiest math ever

So Mr. Kim had to resort to drastic measures

At the beginning of all his classes, he drew a box on the edge of the whiteboard

“This is the nonsense box” he explained with a teacherly smile

That is to say frustrated but still filled with love for his students

“Every time one of you is talking about anything that is not related to class, a tally mark goes in the box. Each tally mark represents an extra fifteen seconds you get to sit in your seat after the bell rings”

A chorus of protest arose

“I don’t want to hear it” Mr. Kim shook his head “How many of you are planning on retaking last Friday’s test?”

About half of the hands in the room came up sheepishly

“Exactly. It’s because we’re constantly off topic that no one is able to listen and learn in here. We can do better, okay?”

And then immediately from the back of the room

“Ooh, Miss (L/N) just passed in the hall!!!”

And chorus of “Ooooooh”

Whether it was true or not, Hongjoong was happy to draw his first tally mark without a word

Just that same teacherly smile

Another round of protest came and he drew another one

After the third tally mark, they shut up

“Good. Let’s talk about coefficients. Has anyone heard that word before?”

Once again I will say it was November

And the month after November is December

And December is the month of Christmas

Not just Christmas break

But Christmas itself

And that meant that Hongjoong now

After coming back from a brief Thanksgiving break

Had only a few weeks to find you a Christmas present

Now he wasn’t thoughtless like this wasn’t the first time it had crossed his mind

It had just stressed him out wondering if he would have the guts to confess his feelings for you or if he would be outed somehow first

Plus in case y’all didn’t know teaching (especially teaching around the holidays) is stressful

He just imagined Christmas as this far off date that was too good to ever come

And so he hadn’t even had time to think about what to get you

Something for your classroom?

Something for your home?

A cute accessory?

A fun math shirt?

Not a gift card though that was far too impersonal

Nothing seemed good enough for you

If he were to deliver his feelings with a gift like any of these, it felt insufficient

Most lunches the last bit of November and the first week of December

(If not spent pestering you)

He spent fretting over his Amazon cart with his head in his hands

And then the most unfortunate miracle occurred

The heaters toward the math hall decided working at full capacity was a waste of tax dollars

And the weather was shaping up to be quite uncomfortable

Everyone started to bring blankets and stuff but it was never quite enough

Your classroom was especially cold, since it was the farthest down the hall

So Hongjoong was gifted an opportunity

He went and found one of those soft and cozy electric blankets

In a color he assumed to be your favorite considering how much you wore it and how many of the little trinkets around your classroom were that color

And he packaged it like he had meant to give it to you for Christmas anyway

Then he brought it for you the next day

You were sitting at your desk in your full winter outdoor gear with a blanket that did look cozy but thankfully was not electric

And your teeth were practically chattering as you waved hello

He still hadn’t taken off his coat or his gloves either actually

He set the present on your desk

“I was saving this for Christmas but I think you might need it more now” he told you with a grin

Your curiosity was suddenly piqued

You opened the gift cautiously, glancing up at him every few seconds

But as soon as you felt the material of the blanket, you perked up

And upon discovering that it was electric you could have cried

“I haven’t been able to feel my fingers since last week” you told him gratefully “Seriously I was trying to figure out how many space heaters I would need to buy to survive the winter”

“The department head has one in her classroom” he said “If you grab your old blanket and your laptop then you can let your new blanket heat up here while we hang out over there”

What a beautiful suggestion

The department head raised her eyebrow at the two of you coming in with blankets

But she smiled too when she saw you settling down in front of her heater

“Don’t tell anyone” she said “but sometimes I take a nap over there during lunch”

“Oh I see exactly why” you agreed, sitting cross-legged and setting your computer in your lap “I can literally feel my bones thawing out”

Hongjoong settled down a respectable distance from you

But he thought someone else was pranking him when he felt a blanket drape over his shoulders

He looked around, startled, and then he realized it was the other side of your blanket

You had thrown your blanket over him to share, even though he had one of his own

And now you were pulling his arm to get him to scoot closer to you

Was this a dream??

He would not be happy if his alarm rang

But no it was real and he happily obliged

You were sitting shoulder to shoulder again

Just like at the professional development workshop

Except this time it was so warm and cozy and there was definitely a much less professional vibe

The department head raised her eyebrow at you once again

But Hongjoong was way too enamored with your shy smile to notice

After just a few minutes in this cozy little haven

Your time was unfortunately cut short

Not by students arriving to school

But by Wooyoung poking his head into the classroom

“Oh I’ve been looking everywhere for you guys”

He stepped into the classroom and greeted its owner accordingly

She nodded as if to allow him permission to enter

“They have hot chocolate down in the teachers lounge” Wooyoung informed them “I figured you icicles back here in the freezer rooms would want some but it looks like you were hiding a—” he looked down at the two of you skeptically “campfire back here”

Wooyoung clearly thought he meant something by that but no one else knew what he was trying to say

So his last comment went ignored

“Do you want hot chocolate?” Hongjoong asked you “I can go get some for us”

“No it’s okay I’ll go with you” 

Oh Wooyoung saw exactly what was going on here

Hongjoong did not

Hongjoong was a little confused—was his help becoming an awkward burden to you?

While Wooyoung saw the truth

You just wanted the excuse to walk with him

Now Wooyoung had two choices

He could step back and let you two walk down together, maybe say something to speed this math teacher romance along

Or he could third wheel

And who was Wooyoung if he didn’t pass up the chance to annoy?

Plus he had taken an oath once he started collecting bets that he wouldn’t try to swing the competition one way or another

And since telling you about the hot chocolate while you were together felt like pushing the competition faster, it felt right to pull it back a bit by getting in between you for a few minutes

So he offered hands to both of you to help you off the floor

“Let’s all go together then” he said “You should also find out if your campsite director wants any”

“Campsite director?” Hongjoong asked, shutting his computer

You also closed your computer and set it aside, looking around to figure out who Wooyoung was talking about

“Your gracious host this morning” he clarified, giving the department head a charming little wave

You both took Wooyoung’s hands at the same time and almost pulled him down with you in the process of standing up

As you straightened your pants, you asked the department head if she wanted you to bring her back any hot chocolate, to which she responded yes please

Wooyoung insisted on walking in the middle

And Hongjoong wondered if all of the patience he had acquired as a middle school teacher was going to be spent on not wringing this guy’s neck this morning

Fortunately Mr. Jung acted enough like one of Mr. Kim’s students that he was able to pretend he was one and just let it go

Unfortunately by the time they got back to the department head’s classroom kids were starting to show up so that was the end of artificial campfire cuddle time

But there was a silent agreement as you picked up your blankets and computers that you would be doing this again sometime

The first few weeks of December didn’t necessarily fly by but they did go by quickly in hindsight if that makes sense

And before everyone knew it

Christmas break was upon you

And there was no further progression of the math department couple

The Before Christmas teachers had gotten antsier and antsier right up until the day before break started

But thankfully no one had been worried enough to interfere

Hongjoong decided to stay in his classroom that day

(As if he didn’t stay in his classroom every day)

Because people had been giving him disappointed looks all over the school and he was tired of it

Even the principal had made a trip to Hongjoong’s classroom the Friday afternoon before everyone left

Just to tell him how disappointed he was that he hadn’t had the guts to make a move even when he knew the principal’s precious money was on the line

And ask him if you were secretly dating already and just didn’t want to make a big deal about it

But ultimately to wish him luck and a nice break

A few minutes after he left, you popped into his classroom

You had your bag and your coat and it looked like you were ready to head home

“Are you so ready to get out of here?” you asked

He stopped immediately in the middle of his task and slammed his laptop shut

Contract hours had ended a whole minute ago and he had wasted a whole minute still doing work? On break?

“Say no more” he said, standing up and putting his coat on “We should have left five minutes ago”

“Wholeheartedly agree” you replied “I would have but the principal visited me and I felt like I had to look like I was doing something”

Hongjoong froze

The principal had visited you too?

Why?

For what purpose?

Betting purposes?

This technically didn’t still count as Before Christmas Break right?

“That’s weird haha he came and visited me too, like ten minutes ago” he said with the normalest most unbothered tone he could manage

(He tried)

(His voice was not quite an octave higher than usual)

(Which is considerable improvement since it’s usually an octave and a half)

“Maybe he’s just making rounds” you said with a shrug “It’s nice to see how much he cares about this school. Definitely one of the better principals I’ve worked with”

Hongjoong relaxed perhaps too visibly

“Yeah if you need a guy to have your back he’s got it no question”

“Anyway if you don’t have any plans for the day after Christmas you should spend it with me”

If Hongjoong had been drinking something he would have choked

Even if he’d had plans in the first place he would have canceled them for you

“My day is wide open” he said “As is almost all of my break”

You smiled and his stomach did a flip

He wondered if it was ever going to stop doing that

He hoped not

“Mine too. If you’re bored, you can probably text me and I won’t be doing anything”

Was it cringe that he was now looking for technically his second Christmas present for you?

Yeah maybe but that was his lifestyle now

To quote N.Flying’s Lovefool “if they call me a lovefool it’s okay as long as it’s for your sake”

Even if you didn’t see him that way that was A-Okay

Anyway he found some cute little math-themed trinkets like pi earrings and a right triangle pin that said “I’m always right”

Because actually who are math teachers if they don’t like puns

And the morning after Christmas Day he wrapped them up all nice for you

And he got ready to meet you at a little restaurant you now frequented together

But this was actually like the first time he was meeting you on a whole day off so he had to figure out how to dress not like a teacher but still kinda nice

He had no idea

All of his pants were teacher pants

His shirts? All teacher shirts

He was way too good at dressing for his job

So he wore jeans instead of his usual khakis and hoped that was different enough?

He also layered one of his graph paper teacher shirts with a plain t-shirt underneath and didn’t button it up

He looked himself up and down in his mirror, trying different poses to make sure he looked like a Normal Guy

In the end he decided his hair was the only issue

He only knew how to style it in a teacherly fashion

And leaving it unstyled wasn’t an option

So he looked up some tutorials on some easy styles but he just could not see himself as anything other than a math teacher

So he gave up and just prayed that he looked okay

You looked perfect of course

The difference was subtle in theory but the way you dressed, the way you did your hair and makeup, it made for a world of difference

Oh you looked so gorgeous he was never going to get over it

Your eyes practically sparkled when you met him out front and man he thought before that he couldn’t be more in love with you but he was wrong

You did seem a little more awkward today than usual and he couldn’t figure out why

Like you almost seemed nervous

What for? It was just him

You got your food and he suddenly remembered the gifts in his pocket

“Oh!” he exclaimed, pulling them out “I know I gave you the blanket a few weeks ago but I found these and I knew you had to have them. Merry double Christmas?”

You covered your mouth to hide your laughter and your bite of food

“That’s so funny because I found something for you too”

And you pulled a little package out of your bag

Down bad wasn’t even a good descriptor anymore and neither was head over heels like there had to be a stronger silly description of being in love and if there wasn’t it would have to be invented for him

You had found him a shirt that said “Math is hard. So is life. Get over it.”

(Tbh an actual shirt that I own)

And he promised you he would be wearing it the day you all got back from break

As for his silly little gifts you adored them

You put the pi earrings in immediately and started brainstorming what do do with the other things out loud

He could not have been happier with himself

And then you caught him staring at you

You paused in your excited little ramblings

He sat up a little straighter, wondering what to say next

But you smiled and looked down at your plate

“You’re pretty cute, you know that?” you told him, unable to meet his eyes for more than a second

In front of you, his first instinct was to deny the possibility and he followed it without thinking

“Eh, no I’m not—not in comparison to you, anyway”

Hmm if he wanted to keep his feelings secret then that was not the thing to say

But you deserved to know it

Not just cute but beautiful

Heartstoppingly so

You took the compliment well anyway

“Have you ever thought…” you began, trailing off

You watched him as he waited for you to continue, his eyes wide and curious

“Never mind” you dismissed with a casual wave of your hand

“No hey what were you going to say?” he asked

“Nothing I just had a weird thought for a second”

“No no come on! You know I wouldn’t judge you for anything”

You hesitated again and he could see that same nervousness he’d noticed before

“Have you ever thought…I don’t know” you put your elbows up on the table “of us as more than friends? Like dating maybe?”

Once again he was going to be very upset if his alarm clock went off now

But even if this was a dream, there was no harm in saying it out loud

“Every day since the day I met you” he answered honestly

You blinked like you didn’t believe him

“You’d better not be joking because I mean this like I’m risking our whole professional relationship here—”

And then he realized

You literally had no idea about him

Genuinely no clue that the whole school knew exactly how you had him wrapped around your finger

Except you

“—on the slightest chance that you might feel the same way—”

“Hey” he stopped you softly “I would never joke about how I feel about you”

Embarrassment began to set in for both of you

“Seriously,” he said, holding back a laugh, “you can ask any of my students, any of the teachers. I think you were the last one to find out that I have a massive crush on you”

“Oh no you’re kidding!” you exclaimed, your hands coming up to hide your face

“I really wish I were—Wooyoung has two rounds of bets going with the teachers about when and how we would end up dating. It’s just about me though—I don’t think anyone else knew about you”

You buried your face further in your hands

“That is so embarrassing” you whined “Seriously I might kill Wooyoung when we get back from break”

“I’ll help you” he promised

You ended up deciding to tell the other teachers on account of the bets they had placed on you

But you asked them not to tell the kids

Hongjoong was comfortable dealing with them at this point and he didn’t see the point in subjecting you to the attention he got about it

Speaking of the bets

No one won any of them technically

The two categories were before/after Christmas break and you notice/he confesses

And since you confessed during Christmas break well

As tempting as it would have been to say that you two deserved the money

(Especially on those teacher salaries)

You just made Wooyoung give it back to everyone who had put money down

And honestly? Very little about your at school dynamic changed

The kids still teased Hongjoong every day about his obvious soft spot for you

But he didn’t care because he knew better than they did anyway

You did actually start to notice now that kids were gossiping about you and Hongjoong

And it was really funny actually

Especially when he stopped by your classroom and the kids went dead silent watching you

Or when you left his classroom and you heard the kids explode with their weirdo little preteen comments from just outside in the hallway

Wooyoung insisted on telling you about every time you were mentioned in his classroom

This included the story about the girl rejecting a boy because quote no one can like anyone as much as Mr. Kim likes Miss (L/N) enquote

And you about died from laughter and embarrassment

Because how had you missed every single sign thrown your way??

It was so obvious now that you were dating him and you knew why he spent as much time as physically and contractually possible in your classroom

Because like I said very little about your at school dynamic changed

He still treated you almost exactly the same way

Except now if you were having a bad day he could hug you and kiss you on the head and tell you that everything would be okay and you were a good teacher

And if he got cold he could come to your classroom and have you sit on his lap while you shared your blanket

You were very very careful with any displays of affection by the way like it was only behind a locked door that you would even dare

Because firstly unprofessional

A literal breach of the code of ethics more likely than not

And secondly what if the kids saw you???

The other teachers were whatever like you didn’t really want them to walk in on you either but at least they were other adults

But the kids??? 

There were already too many rumors flying around the school about you and they did not need a even whispering of confirmation

The end of that came of course when you got engaged like a year or so later idk and you showed up to school with a ring on your finger and the kids went wild

“Mr. Kim she has a ring!!!”

“Mr. Kim what are you going to do?? She’s gonna get married!!”

“Mr. Kim you must be heartbroken”

You had prepared for this together

You had known it was coming so you knew you had to be ready for the chaos it was going to cause

So you had decided that he would also start wearing a ring to match even before the wedding

So to all his very concerned students he got to hold up his hand and say in the coolest most chic manner possible

“And who do you think gave her the ring huh?”

It was like setting off a nuclear bomb of middle school gossip but it was so worth it

Anyway breaking the chronological flow going back in time because this needed to be the last scene

The cutest change with your at school dynamic now that you were dating was now you could exchange secret messages on sticky notes with the papers you traded

He started it by handing you a test key to check with a sticky note on the top that you assumed was a label for what the test was

But on closer inspection it was a pickup line

“The limit of my love for you is like the limit of 1/x as it approaches 0; it doesn’t exist”

So you wrote back on the same sticky note “well mine is like 1/x^2 and it approaches infinity so there” and handed it back to him once you checked his key

Not to be outdone he wrote you a new note

“Girl are you a 30° angle inscribed in a circle because you’re acute-y pi”

Oh that one was bad

You had to give him something worse

“If we’re both math teachers, how come we have so much chemistry?”

You handed him that one in between classes

And as he read it he had to disguise his sudden laughter as a cough because there were kids around and they didn’t need to be curious about what he was laughing at

His next sticky note had a crease down the middle horizontally

128√e980

You recognized it immediately but you folded it in half to reveal the secret message anyway

“I love you”

So you gave him back “I hope you like fractions because you’re my other half”

You stored all these away in a little file on your computer titled “Valentine’s Day Math Jokes”

Maybe for some future Valentine’s Day activity

But mostly just to keep them all somewhere safe where you could look at them any time you wanted

Without some kid being like “oooh Miss (L/N) whatcha lookin at”

Your favorite note from him was about as simple and dorky as they came

Much like Hongjoong himself actually

Simplify 2x+6i<2(x+9u)

First you distributed the 2 on the right

2x+6i<2x+18u

Then since there was a 2x on both sides, you could subtract them and cancel them

6i<18u

Then divide by 6

And the answer made you smile every time

i<3u

(so I know how I wrote this so fast actually. I just have a goal to write 250+ words every day and uh pretty much every day of the month of January ended up dedicated to this one. Someone said Math Teacher Hongjoong and I (graduated in December with a math teaching degree, student taught in a middle school for 4 months) went feral over it whoops)

Masterlist

[zombiequeenblog]

Fucking V

Link to story here, or please enjoy below

“Fucking V,” muttered Frater, and I knew he didn’t mean his lettered key.

I had been greeted by the aberrant keyboard piece, as soon as I’d entered his temporary office; recklessly discarded right there on the threadbare rug right in front of the door. Poor Copia, this room really was rather shabby, all musty furniture and peeling wallpaper, a wanton chandelier above all the disorder in dire need of a polishing. Hopefully his proper office would soon be ready to receive him. I had every faith that he would be able to lead this place into a higher glory; he deserved every respect afforded to his exalted position. 

My boss continued to grumble, underneath an angry huff he directed down into his ancient computer, “… hyped-up shit… this buffoon…” I could hear the couch he was awkwardly seated on creak as he struggled with a grunt to get comfortable in his immaculately pressed black suit. The silly man’s pants were too tight, and I snuck a sly glance over to his crotch for only a quick second.

“The new guy?” I piped up innocently in offering, over my stack of ledger books in a corner of the chaotic room. As I spoke I was sure to keep my errant eyes trained down on my work; there was no reason to make this situation any more awkward. 

“Who the fuck is he…” breathed out Copia, as if to himself at first, before seemingly realizing that he wasn’t all alone in here. “Oh, my dear, forgive an angry old man his frustrations…”

I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of our dear Frater outright angry, even at an unexpected twin brother taking over his old job fairly out of the blue. “Don’t worry about it, Your Dark Excellency,” I said cheerfully, scribbling my way through the treasury accounts. I loved it when he called me his dear…

I could see him tilt his greying head at the formal title he still wasn’t yet used to. “Yes, well… please forgive me my language then, eh?”

“I’ve heard worse,” I replied, grinning down at my paperwork. Fuck. Now, when and where had I last heard that vulgar syllable, uttered in such a strangely similar tone?

Frater was not the only person in here with V on the mind. 

Papa Perpetua V, to be exact; the new Anti-Pope, if not outright Antichrist. And as of this past night, yet not in the biblical sense, to be sure… I had become not exactly, entirely… unacquainted with him. 

It had started out of the blue for me as well. Just last night, in fact, a nightmare had emerged from within the darkness of my bedroom. Clad in black, a figure purposeful and menacing; an icy skull concealing a smug face. The skin underneath he had painted in his own version of the ghastly papal mask of all his predecessors, precisely applied. The way that he moved felt so intimate, though I had never even spoken directly to him. I hadn’t yet dared. Kneeling over me in bed, he had flashed his crooked teeth down at my bewilderment, closer than I had even realized at first.

“What in the hell…” I had gasped, half-asleep.

“What do you know of hell, Sorella?” He’d said clearly, his voice so very unfamiliar, and yet…

Bucking up in my blankets, I’d tried to flee on instinct from this new addition to our dark faith, but he’d held me down with gloves more akin to claws than fingers. “Shh.. shh…” he’d soothed, “I come only seeking your counsel, Sister.” I felt very much awake, now.

“Are you daft? It’s the middle of the night…” 

“I am aware, but it’s been so very difficult to get you all to myself, you see? To capture all of your attentions…” he prattled on, his painted lips sharp.

As my vision focused I could see that he shared the exact same eyes as Copia did. It was fairly unnerving. “What do you want?” I snapped, adding after an addled breath, “Your… Your Excellency…”

He had seemed almost confused at the title. “I want you… I need you to help me get used to this place… so many odd customs here…”

I shook my head in confusion. “Why don’t you go and ask your brother?”

“I barely know him.”

“You barely know me!” I almost shouted. 

“Shh… shhhh… will you keep your voice down?” he’d said, as if he had any right to be so annoyed. 

“Will you let me sit up?” I asked through gritted teeth. He got up off of me in answer. Arranging myself as gracefully as I could against my headboard, I turned my head only slightly to glance at this newly anointed member of our great clergy, seated dangerously close beside me in my humble little bed. There was an awkward silence, and I could see he was wearing a full suit, including shoes. Hardly bedtime attire. “You really need to go and talk to Frater Imperator, you haven’t had one single appointment with him yet. I would know.”

“I’d rather not get into all the family dramatics,” he said grimly. Another strange silence followed, and I shrugged my shoulders in my ministry-issued nightgown. V was interesting, but he was far less charming than his brother, and I was tired.

“I suppose the entire situation is quite… strange,” I offered, fighting back a yawn, “now get out of my room.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m going back to sleep,” I stated, shimmying down underneath my covers, “‘night.”

“Well now,” I heard him protest, “see here, you… you underling!” I could feel him poking me with those insane gloves he was wearing.

“I report to Frater Imperator,” I mumbled against my pillow, so soft, “not you.”

Immediately, I could feel my bed shaking as he turned to straddle me in it, caging me in between his knees as I scrambled around to face him again. Any alarm seeking to escape me was quickly trapped by his grotesque glove clamping down upon my lips, and now his eerie face was quite close to mine. His white eye burned into my widened ones. 

“I am the reigning Papa here! You will obey me in every way I dictate—”

I kneed him in the dick.

“Fuck! Oh…” he garbled down into my chest as his body collapsed on top of me.

“You have some balls speaking to me like that, Papa,” I muttered, pushing him off to the side as he wheezed. “Maybe I’ll tell Frater how you seemed to mistake my room for yours…” I couldn’t help but yawn out a little again as I turned onto my side to get comfortable once more. “Maybe l’ll tell him tomorrow…”

“Tell him whatever you like, Sorella!” I could hear V whining, “That old windbag doesn’t scare me…”

“Aren’t you the exact same age?”

“Fuck!” He sounded incredibly irritated. 

“Watch your language…” I dared to throw out. There was another long pause, and I listened to his testy breathing slow right behind me. Eventually, I heard him begin to laugh a little, soft and curious. 

“Well, I have certainly fucked up this little introduction, haven’t I? Excuse my language.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I couldn’t help but giggle beside him, both at his frustrations and his disposition. “Just don’t… don’t be so disrespectful of Frater Imperator. I won’t have it.”

“Oh I see now… you quite fancy him, don’t you?”

I hoped he couldn’t see the blush forming on my cheeks in the dark.

“No witty answer for me?” 

I kept quiet. 

“Hmmm…” 

Maybe he’d leave me be if he thought I was drifting off to sleep. After another moment, I felt him move upon the bed, and direct his breath down into my ear. “How’s about you help guide me a little, starting tomorrow, and I won’t say one word of your business to my dear brother… when I do go to speak with him, that is…”

“Blackmail is always a good start to beginning this life of vice,” I quipped.

“Yes, I thought so,” he chuckled, “maybe I’m meant to be here after all…” 

With that, I assumed he would leave, and I could finally get some rest before dawn came creeping on in, but when I noticed he wasn’t moving, seemingly lost within his thoughts, I turned over sharply to deliver another remark, hopefully amusing. His face had come down closer to mine, presumably to kiss my forehead in a chaste goodnight, and with my turning around I accidentally caught the brush of his curls, and his black lips down on mine, and we both seemed surprised as we connected, only for one brief moment. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant. 

He broke away first, and I could have sworn he was blushing himself underneath all that paint, and the grim mask. “Ahhh,” he almost stuttered above me, “consider that a kiss to please you, eh? We must have similar lips.” I knew he meant Frater. 

“I wouldn’t know,” I said quickly, and blushed anew to my great annoyance. V could be charming, and this irritated me greatly. Would this confounding intruder never leave?

“Oh.” The word came out pleased, I could swear, and then finally, I heard him leave my room in a few confident steps.

“Sorry about your dick,” I had whispered, to no one in particular, as I wiped a smudge of paint off my bottom lip right before it could stain my pillow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My mind was brought back to the sallow room by the sound of Copia growling, biting into his gloved fist in an agitated manner. 

“Frater?” 

“Oh… ah, what, now?” The man was positively frazzled. Meeting my concerned gaze for only a second, he continued to mutter to himself. “It’s all hype…” His sharp shoulders drooped a bit as he began to pace. “It’s over…”

I wanted to sail right over and hug him. “It’s not over, Your Dark Excellency.” Mismatched eyes connected with mine across all the mess, and he smiled the slightest bit, to my secret joy. “You’re the boss here, and you are well-loved. And respected,” I added warmly. 

I watched him straighten his back as a grin finally blossomed across his handsome face. “Ah well, if you say so, my dear one,” he announced, wagging his finger in the air as he turned to go and face his computer again, “I will succumb to your flattery…”

“Good,” I said, grinning freely and trying desperately not to blush in front of my boss. I watched him begin to tentatively type, two-fingered as he looked down at the keys. His hand was beginning to pound in a repetitive motion upon the battered board, as if a key were stuck. I was fairly confident that I knew which one it might have been.

I watched Copia begin to frown, and a further warmth rose up into my face as I stared down at my work, trying hard to concentrate. My thumb came up to my lip to wipe away black paint that wasn’t there. Fucking V.

[austinbutlerslovers]

Eternal Ink 🪽

Label Mature 18+

Summary Austin is a renowned tattoo artist with his muscular physique covered in intricate ink. After careful contemplation and a little liquid courage, you decide tonight is the night you will finally get the tattoo you’ve been wanting at his shop. Upon entering, you’re immediately struck by his handsomeness and drawn in by his skill. As he works on your tattoo during a quiet, late night session, the intimacy between you two intensifies, fueling a passionate connection. At the end of the session, he satisfies you with something far more exhilarating than the tattoo.

❤️‍🔥Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 Edging with unprofessional touch • seduction • dirty talk•nipple play•fingering•Austin covered in tattoos size kink •protection •sex on a tattoo table•multiple orgasms

Master List ••• Upcoming List

*Thank you for your votes! 🗳️ war camp will be released shortly *Please enjoy the winner tattoo 🏆

Eternal Ink 🪽

You stepped out of your car, feeling the cool night air against your skin as you made your way towards the tattoo shop. You were dressed nicely in fitted jeans a plunging halter top and mid calf leather boots. You’d been thinking about getting inked for a while now, and after a few drinks with friends for courage, tonight felt like the perfect opportunity.

Before you even set foot inside, you where well aware of this place’s unrivaled excellence, a testament to the exceptional skills of its artists. But it was the masterful artistry of the owner Austin that truly commanded attention. His reputation resounded through the city streets for his artistic brilliance.

The neon sign above the door glowed softly casting a warm light onto the pavement. ‘Eternal Ink’ it read in bold stylish letters. The sign was a striking blue its light flickering slightly creating an almost hypnotic effect. It was framed by a pair of tattooed wings that seemed to flutter with the movement of the light adding an artistic flair to the shop’s entrance.

The store front itself was equally impressive. Large glass windows allowed a glimpse into the shop’s interior, showcasing walls lined with framed tattoo designs and artwork. The door was a heavy dark wood with a polished brass handle, adding a touch of old world charm to the modern, edgy aesthetic of the shop.

Pushing the door open you were greeted by the scent of antiseptic mixed with a faint hint of bergamot. The lobby was both inviting and intimidating, a perfect blend of artistry and rugged masculinity.

Dark polished hardwood floors gleamed under the soft overhead lights, and the walls were covered in framed pieces of tattoo art each one more impressive than the last.

A plush black leather couch sat against one wall, next to a display case filled with tattoo designs and equipment. Next to the display case was a high table covered in tattoo design books. A large ornate mirror hung along the back wall reflecting the lobby making it feel even larger.

At this late hour it seemed the only occupant of the shop was the owner Austin working behind the counter organizing ink bottles.

He stood with his back to you his tall fit frame outlined against the soft lighting from the glass shelving he stood in front of.

His sandy brown hair was slightly tousled giving him a rugged yet polished look. The muscles on his back and shoulders were clearly defined, each contour accentuated by the soft lighting.

Tattooed angel wings adorned his shoulders, their intricate details peeking out from beneath the fabric of the black muscle tee clinging to his athletic form.

His chiseled arms were a canvas of intricate tattoos, each design seamlessly flowing into the next all the way up to his neck and down to his wrists. For a moment, you simply stood there, captivated by the sight of him.

The way he moved with such confidence and ease was mesmerizing. As he turned your eyes met and your breath instantly hitched in your throat as his piercing blue eyes locked onto yours. He was irresistibly attractive.

“Hey there,” he said eyeing you in return, his voice was smooth and deep with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. He stepped around the counter and extended his hand.

“I’m Austin. How can I help you tonight?” you took his hand feeling the strength and warmth of his grip. Your eyes locked again and you felt a spark of something more pass between you.

His touch was firm yet gentle, his skin warm and roughened slightly from years of tattooing.

“Hi..yeah…” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fluttering in your chest. “I was hoping to get a tattoo tonight. Am I too late?”

His smile deepened, and he held your hand a moment longer than necessary before letting go.

“You’re just in time,” he said not even glancing at a clock. “What are you thinking about getting?” He asked as his gaze traveled subtly down your body, taking in your curves with a look of appreciation that sent a thrill through you.

When your eyes meet again Austin’s gaze lingered on yours and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with nervousness.

Despite his commanding presence there was a warmth in his eyes that put you at ease.

You shifted slightly, suddenly unsure of what tattoo you wanted. “I’m not exactly sure what I want,” you admitted, feeling a bit sheepish.

Austin’s smile remained “No worries, Let’s take a look at some tattoo books. We’ll find something that speaks to you.” He said reassuringly and gestured you to follow him to the high table in the lobby which was adorned with a variety of tattoo design books.

As you flipped through the pages together his hand would occasionally brush against your sending sparks of electricity flying through you.

You slowly regained your composure and began to explain your idea to him, a small intricate design on your inner hip, something personal and meaningful. He listened intently, his eyes focused on you with understanding as you discussed the details.

Then with a fluid motion, he pulled open a drawer from the table, retrieving his sketch book and flipping open a fresh page. “How about this?” he suggested his hand moving slowly as he sketched a design on the piece of paper.

Once finished, he handed it over for your approval and as you examined the drawing in your hand, you realized it was exactly what you had envisioned, perfect in every detail.

“That’s it!” you said your voice filling with excitement. “I love it!”

As your eyes lifted from the drawing to his you could see a hint of pride in his expression as a warm smile spread across his lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” he replied, his voice low and genuine as his eyes lingered on you. “Let’s get you set up.”

He led you to a back room, his private tattoo space that exuded a dark masculine energy. The walls were painted a deep charcoal gray adorned with framed photos and artwork. Black leather furniture sleek and stylish filled the room. The scent of leather mixed with the faint aroma of ink and antiseptic created an edgy atmosphere.

There was a large framed picture of Austin on a powerful motorcycle above his desk, looking every bit the rugged artist that he was. Next to it were pieces of his favorite designs, detailed and vibrant tattoos that showcased his incredible talent.

In the center of the room was a black leather tattoo chair, its surface smooth and inviting. It looked like a throne, commanding attention in the dim lighting.

Austin gestured for you to sit and as you settled into the chair he pressed a button making you lay all the way flat, filling you with a mix of excitement and nerves.

"First time?" he asked, his eyes twinkling in amusement as he turned on his work light and directed its beam on your hip.

“Yeah,” you admitted, laughing nervously. “Go easy on me?”

He chuckled, a warm, reassuring sound. “I’ll take good care of you, don’t worry.”

As Austin prepared the equipment, his movements were precise and confident. The room was quiet the only sounds being the snap of his black gloves fitting onto his hands and the soft buzz of the machine as he tested it.

You took a breath and unbuttoned your jeans pulling them down low to reveal your right hip bone. His eyes remained steady on his task as he cleaned your skin.

His touch was gentle and professional, yet still he managed to send a shiver down your spine.

“Ready?” he asked, looking up at you with his intense blue eyes.

You took another deep breath and nodded. “Ready.”

Austin’s eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer before he turned his attention back to the task at hand.

He dipped the needle into the ink, and his fingers pressed lightly against your skin. As the needle touched your skin a sharp burning sensation shot through you. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt before, painful and sharp, but also exhilarating.

The intensity of the sensation was constant but there was a rhythm to it, a hypnotic quality that made it bearable. You winced a bit biting your lip as the discomfort quickly began to mix with a strange, almost pleasurable sensation.

Austin paused for a moment lifting his gaze to meet yours. “You doing alright?” he asked with his hand gently rested on your hip.

You nodded, swallowing hard. “Yeah, I’m okay. It hurts, but it’s… different. Not as bad as I expected.”

He gave you a small, understanding smile. “Just let me know if it gets too much, alright? We can take a break if you need.”

His words were comforting and the way he looked at you with genuine care made you feel completely at ease despite the pain. You nodded and he returned to his work.

The needle continued its steady hum and his fingers occasionally brushed against your skin to wipe away any excess ink. The sensation of his touch, coupled with the steady rhythm of the needle ignited a wave of arousal within you, transforming the discomfort into a tantalizing pleasure.

You found yourself captivated by his face as he worked. His handsome features were well defined, his high cheekbones and strong jawline catching the light of the overhead lamp as he worked.

His intense focus made him even more attractive, the way his brows furrowed as he concentrated, his full lips pressing together in a thin line of determination.

Each time his eyes flicked up to meet yours it sent a thrill through you, unable to deny your desire for him. It became evident he felt the same way as the depth of his emotions mirrored your own, the undeniable attraction between you both conveyed through each intense gaze.

He leaned in closer to fill in the intricacies of the design and you felt his warm breath against your skin, each exhale sending a gentle shiver down your spine causing you to move slightly. His grip on your hip reactively tightened. His fingers pressing into your flesh in a way that felt both possessive and protective.

“You’re doing so well for me,” he encouraged, his voice low and soothing, keeping you calm as he worked on a vital area of the design. His eyes narrowed in concentration as he manipulated the needle in delicate lines of precision.

His face displayed such a focused intensity as he masterfully inked the tattoo needle into your skin that it made you feel a mixture of anticipation and exhilaration knowing his skilled hands were marking your body permanently.

You calmed your urges focusing on the steady rhythm of his breathing and the gentle caress of his hand, until it transformed into something more.

His fingers began to trail across your skin with a subtle intimacy that stirred the arousal in you once more and you couldn’t help but fixate on his hands. You began feeling increasingly turned on by the way his fingers moved with purpose, each touch deliberate and confident, sending waves of desire coursing through you.

The warmth of his touch and the firmness of his grip stirred a deep lust within you. As his fingers ventured closer to your pelvic line, your pulse quickened, and your breath hitched in your throat.

Austin looked up at you again, this time the intensity of his stare sent a thrill through you. There was a spark there that ignited within a wordless heat growing more intense between you two at every passing moment.

He paused, leaning back to wipe away any excess ink, his fingertips trailing along your hip in a tantalizing manner. The deliberate slowness of his touch sent waves of excitement through you, intensifying the already electric atmosphere.

Sensing your attraction for him he couldn’t help but feel a surge of his own desire rising. Firmly gripping your hip he began seductively tracing his thumb along the edge of your tattoo.

Each stroke elicited a soft gasp and a subtle shift in your breathing a silent acknowledgment of the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. As your eyes met he gazed at you with an allure that made it clear his touch fueling your arousal was intentional.

“You have very beautiful skin,” he said softly, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and desire. His gaze traveled down your body lingering on the curve of your hip where he was tattooing. “Perfect canvas.” He said passionately.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks, your body reacting to the intensity of his gaze and the intimacy of his words.

“You’re doing incredibly well for your first tattoo,” he praised, his voice a blend of reassurance and seduction. “Almost done,” he confirmed.

His eyes locked onto yours with a smoldering intensity, and a playful smirk formed on his lips revealing his desire for you.

You nodded, unable to speak, your body trembling slightly with the intensity of the experience.

His touch returned even more intimate than before as if he was savoring the contact, making your breath hitch and your heart race on each touch. The warmth of his hand and his fingertips lingered after every stimulating touch, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake as you became wet for him.

His eyes lifted to meet yours with a mischievous glint dancing within them. He spread his large hand wider across your pelvis, keeping the needle centered, as his fingers sensually teased under your panty line. The intimate touch ignited a fire within you, and it was evident he relished the effect. His smile only adding to the allure, intensifying your desire for him.

The sculpted muscles of his bicep flexed subtly as he finalized the design, showcasing the intricate tattoos adorning his own skin. Every movement he made captivated you, from the ink on his forearms to the designs gracing his neck. With each glimpse, your arousal heightened, fueled by an intense curiosity about the hidden artistry concealed beneath his clothing.

When he finally lifted the needle for the last time you let out a shaky breath, feeling a rush of relief and exhilaration from the intimate experience.

“All done,” he said, sitting back and snapping off his black gloves admiring his work. “Take a look.”

As you sat up he offered his hand, helping you to stand. You walked to the full length mirror in the room, lifting your shirt and pulling your jeans lower to admire your new tattoo.

It was beautiful, exactly what you had envisioned. The lines were clean and precise, the design was delicate yet striking. You turned to him filled with gratitude and something deeper swelling in your chest.

Before you could second guess yourself, you closed the distance between you stepping into his space with purpose. “It’s perfect,” you praised, your voice tinged with a hint of arousal.

You reached for him with a flicker of uncertainty dancing within as you gently placed your hands on his broad chest. “Thank you, Austin,” you breathed, your voice barely audible as you gazed up into his striking blue eyes overcome with desire.

He looked utterly irresistible, his hair tousled in a way that only added to his allure, a few strands falling playfully over his forehead and framing his beautiful blue eyes. His features exuded a quiet confidence and undeniable charm, his eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief as they met yours.

His full lips curved into a smile and he pulled you in closer slowly wrapping his arms around your waist. "Stay a while?" he asked, his voice was a deep rich tone sending a surge of anticipation through you.

“I’d love to,” you breathed and he lowered his lips onto yours in a passionate kiss, the intensity of the moment flooded through you entirely. His kiss was tender yet hungry as his hands roamed your back holding you tightly against him.

You broke apart from him nearly breathless form the moment and he smiled down at you. His eyes locked onto yours showing the depth of his desire as he gently caressed the curve of your cheek.

“You know I own this place,” he said, his voice low and intimate. “So we have all the time in the world here.” He said with a smile that exuded confidence as he held your gaze.

“That’s good to know,” you replied, your voice laced with seduction. “I wouldn’t want to rush with someone as skillful as you,” you teased as you gazed up at him full of desire with a sensual smile spread across your lips.

Austin chuckled and tantalizingly traced his finger gently along your jawline “You’re something else, you know that?” He asked with his eyes narrowed.

You shrugged playfully as you responded “I get that a lot” with a hint of allure in your voice.

He grinned, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. “I bet you do.” He said moving closer. You felt a blush creeping up your cheeks as he leaned in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. This time it was deeper, his mouth explored yours with an intense passion that made your heart race. His tongue teased and tasted yours each movement sending jolts of electricity through you as his hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour.

His grip was firm yet gentle on your waist as he broke the kiss pressing you against the leather edge of the tattoo table. His body was so close you could feel the heat radiating off of him in waves. His eyes darkened with desire locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart flutter.

He leaned in so close that his lips brushed against your ear as he whispered, “I’ve wanted you from the moment you walked in.” His words sent tingles of excitement throughout your body as he gently trailed his fingers down your arms. “I never imagined you felt the same,” he confessed, his voice thick with desire.

You felt a surge of anticipation fill you as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes with a slow sensual smile curving on his lips. Then without another word kissed you hard and demanding, his hands exploring your body gliding down your shoulders and over your chest gently squeezing the curves of your breasts through the fabric of your shirt.

His fingers teased your nipples with featherlight strokes until they hardened. Then with a tantalizing pull he gently tugged at the buds, eliciting a soft gasp of pleasure from your lips. His touch ignited a fierce desire within you, and you melted into him, your own hands reaching up to thread your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer as your mouths came together in a heated clash.

The tattoo table was sturdy behind you supporting as Austin’s kisses increased with desire. His lips moved from yours trailing down your neck, their warmth igniting a deeper lust with every tender press.

“You taste incredible,” he murmured, his voice a low caress against your skin. His teeth grazed your neck eliciting a gasp of pleasure from your lips as his hands roamed possessively over your curves, lingering on the bare flesh where your halter top didn’t cover.

“You feel so soft,” he whispered, his voice filled with admiration and lust, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

He brushed his hand against the skin of your neck. “I want to see every inch of you,” he said, his eyes smoldering with desire. “And I want to touch every part of you,” he said his hands traveling possessively down to grip your hips.

A shiver ran through you as you finally answered. “Then take me, Austin. I’m yours.”

Austin’s breath hitched as he heard your words fulfilling his desire. With a hungry gaze, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”

His eyes darkened with lust as a smirk formed on his lips. Your consent giving him the final push to satisfy his overwhelming urge to indulge in the passion between you.

He kneeled down in front of you swiftly unzipping your boots, easing them off, one by one with a steady hand. He pulled down your jeans revealing your skin inch by inch to the cool air as he took them off. His eyes never left yours as he peered up at you hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your wet panties sliding them down until you stepped out of them.

As he stood his fingers grasped the hem of your shirt tugging it upwards. You lifted your arms, allowing him to pull it off and toss it aside. He paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over your naked form with a look of pure desire.

“You’re irresistible,” he whispered, bringing his hands to cup your breasts with adoration as his thumbs traced your nipples. His lips found their way to your neck trailing a line of soft kisses. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” he murmured against your skin as his lips continued their journey up your neck.

As you opened your mouth to answer he captured your lips in another searing kiss his tongue boldly delving into your mouth, exploring with an irresistible need.

“Austin..” you breathed, pulling back slightly, your hands sliding up his muscular arms, feeling the strength beneath his skin. “I need you,” you confessed, holding his gaze with your faces mere inches apart.

”I need you too” he whispered against your lips. His words were filled with longing and urgency and he readily lifted you onto the edge of the tattoo table positioning himself between your legs. With his body pressed firmly against yours, you felt tingles of anticipation surging through you.

He stared into your eyes as he placed his hand on your thighs, gently spreading your legs apart on the tattoo table. His passionate touch sent waves of anticipation through you.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked, his voice was thick with desire.

You nodded, your breath coming in short gasps. “Yes, exactly.”

He smiled, his hands gripping your thighs tightly. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

You shivered at his words, the anticipation building even more. “Then don’t hold back,” you urged, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Austin’s eyes darkened with lust as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “I won’t.” he vowed.

His hand reach between your bodies and his fingers made contact with your wetness applying a gentle pressure, slowly gliding them along the slick surface of your folds. With each stroke he explored the contours of your most sensitive areas, looking into your eyes and paying attention to the subtle responses of your body.

The sensation intensified as he lingered on certain spots, teasing them with the delicate precision of his fingertips, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you as you stared at him in shock.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice filled with desire as he looked into your eyes again seeking your confirmation. You nodded quickly as your heart raced in anticipation.

With a deliberate and tantalizing slowness he pushed his fingers deep inside, the sudden intrusion making you gasp in pleasure. The sensation was intoxicating as your walls clenched around his fingers, each movement of his expertly seeking and stimulating a sensitive spot within you.

He curled his fingers as he pushed them in and out of you sending surges of pleasure throughout your body, intensifying with every thrust as he skillfully explored your depths.

He wrapped his other hand around your throat, his lips returning to yours as he moved his fingers through you in a steady rhythm. Every touch, every kiss, and every thrust of his fingers sent waves of ecstasy coursing through your body.

The pain from the tattoo faded away, replaced by a pleasure so intense it left you breathless. You felt the familiar tightening in your core as Austin’s fingers worked, pulling along the ridge of your most sensitive spot with each skillful thrust.

With the deliberate strokes of his fingers, expertly penetrating your inner walls you felt yourself giving in to the intoxicating waves of pleasure crashing over you and began to tremble and pant into his mouth as he kissed you. His lips trailed down to your neck and he sucked on the soft skin causing your walls to flutter against his plunging fingers. “Let go for me” he whispered against your neck.

His seductive command was the final push to take you over the edge. A loud uninhibited moan escaped your lips, the sound echoing the room as he skillfully brought you a climax. Your core throbbed with the release of euphoria as sparks of ecstasy raced through every nerve ending in your body as you orgasmed.

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a response from the pleasure he had just allowed you to endure. “Austin!” you panted trying to form words as he stared into your eyes with a knowing grin. The desire to be consumed by him overwhelmed your mind entirely.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent as he removed his fingers from you. He brought them to his wanting mouth his eyes never leaving yours as he traced along each finger with his tongue savoring the taste of you before sucking them clean. His eyes roamed your body with a hunger that made your heart race.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, his voice low and intimate as he leaned in capturing your lips in another erotic kiss.

You pulled your lips back to meet his gaze. “Then show me,” you whispered, the intensity of desire evident in your voice.

His eyes bore into yours with a primal desire to conquer you before he deliberate took a step back, creating space to undress.

He knelt first and unlaced his boots, removing them with his socks before setting them aside and standing back up.

You watched in anticipation as Austin gripped the hem of his muscle tee, effortlessly lifting it over his head in one fluid motion and flinging it aside.

The sight that greeted you took your breath away. His torso was a masterpiece of art and strength. His skin was covered in intricate tattoos, each one telling a story, that highlighted the sculpted muscles beneath.

His chest was broad and firm adorned with a phoenix that rose majestically in the middle, its wings spreading across his pectorals in vibrant hues of red and gold.

On his rib cage, a dragon coiled, its scales meticulously detailed, the black ink contrasting sharply against his tan skin. His abs were a series of defined ridges, leading down to the waistband of his jeans.

Austin’s gaze met yours, a smoldering heat in his blue eyes as he reached for the button of his fly. With practiced ease, he unbuttoned and slid his jeans off, revealing his long, thick cock.

You couldn’t help but gasp at its size. He was impressively endowed, his cock throbbing with desire and anticipation, every vein pulsing beneath the smooth skin was a visual testament to his undeniable readiness to claim you.

His strong, muscular legs were also decorated with tattoos. A compass adorned one thigh, its points perfectly aligned, guided by the celestial bodies and a hyper realistic wave design graced his calf, as if the ocean itself had been captured in ink.

On his other thigh, an astral pattern began that extended down to his shin, depicting a cosmic journey in ink.

He stood there for a moment, letting you take in the full view of him, his body a striking combination of raw power and delicate artistry. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment with anticipation and desire.

“You like what you see?” he asked, his voice low and teasing, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

You nodded, unable to find your voice.

Austin stepped closer, cock swaying as he leaned to reach his hand into the low drawer of his tattoo station. He retrieved the golden packet of a condom glinting in the low lighting as he tore it open.

You watched as he rolled the condom down his large cock with a practiced skill and a look of anticipation gleaming in his eyes.

“You ready for this?” he asked with his voice full of desire. You met his gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of excitement and longing.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice barely audible above the pounding of your heart.

He returned to you, positioning himself between your thighs as you sat on the tattoo table. Every inch of him felt larger and more commanding, the embodiment of strength against your softness.

He reached down and wrapped his hand around the base of his thick shaft. With a firm grip, he guided his throbbing cock to the entrance of your soaking wet pussy, teasing the head along your slick folds, feeling the heat radiating from your core staring into your eyes.

“Ready for me?” he asked as he positioned himself at your entrance, seeking confirmation before the inevitable plunge.

You nodded eagerly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you wrapping your arms around his muscular back reveling in his strength

He slowly pushed forward the tip of his cock parting your lips, the sensation of his hardness pressing against your softness eliciting a loud moan from your lips.

Each inch he pressed inside made you gasp, your walls stretching to accommodate his girth, as you gripped his back tightly, your nails dug into his skin as you moaned with pleasure.

He groaned in response, easing the rest of his remarkably large cock inside of you until he filled you to your core. His eyes locked on yours as he felt your walls throbbing around his cock, trying to adjust to his size.

He brought his hands to hold your hips, steadying himself, as his lips brushed against yours.

“You feel so good on me,” he whispered capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

He withdrew his hips, slightly sliding his cock out before returning it back in smacking his hips flush with your body as his tip pressed against your core beginning his strong rhythm.

With each of his thrusts the intensity grew, driving him deeper into you sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You felt his muscular chest pressing against yours, skin sliding together with each movement as he held you firmly against him, bracing you to take the impact of each powerful thrust. His breath mingled with yours as your bodies moved in perfect rhythm.

“You feel incredible,” he groaned, his voice filled with desire staring at you for confirmation. You only gasped in response, unable to form words as the pleasure washed over you in relentless waves.

He increased his movements and your back arched with the quick jolt force of his thrusts as your skin began making slapping sounds between your bodies.

You gasped, feeling the intense pressure of his hardness against you cervix as his hips clapped between your legs.

“Yes, Austin, yes just like that!” You finally cried out, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure of being so completely filled by him.

Austin groaned in response to your plea “You’re making me so hard,” he rasped, his voice thick with arousal as he wrapped his hand around your throat in a possessive gesture continuing to thrust into you. Each clap of his hips between your legs igniting a new wave of pleasure.

You began gasping and panting for air between moans, locking eyes with him, knowing your orgasm was imminent. His eyes met yours with a primal hunger, his grip your throat tightening, adding to the overwhelming sensation of his control as he thrust into you with unyielding determination.

You could feel every inch of his powerful body dominating yours, his strength and authority driving you wild. In that moment, you were completely lost to him.

He panted against your lips, his grip firm on your throat as he thrust into you hard and fast

“I want to feel you cum for me,” he rasped over the hard claps of his hips between yours. Each word sent shivers down your spine, and you moaned in response, unable to form coherent words as the pleasure consumed you.

“Fuck!” he whispered sharply “You feel too good.” he admitted and shut his eyes tight enduring the pleasure as he rode into you ramming you full of him.

“Yes Austin take me” you relented arching your back, eagerly meeting his thrusts with your body trembling with ecstasy. “Im gonnna cum!” You gasped.

He growled eagerly, his primal instincts taking over as he locked eyes with yours. Without hesitation, he forcefully thrust into you, each movement becoming more intense with every snap of his hips, driving you both over the edge.

Your moans of pleasure mingled in the air as he delivered his a final, powerful push and gripped you tightly as his cock spasmed releasing rope after rope of his cum into your body.

You scratched your nails down his tattooed back and cried out feeling the throbbing sensation of his cock buried against your walls.

He hungrily captured your lips in a kiss, accepting the pain and pleasure, his tongue dominating yours, igniting a fierce passion that consumed you both.

He pulled his lips from yours and the room fell silent, only the soft sounds of your breaths mingling. He looked at you with his eyes softening. “Stay with me,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “Don’t leave.”

You smiled, your heart swelling with affection. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, pulling him in for another kiss.

With Austin’s muscular tattooed arms wrapping tightly around you flexing against your skin, you felt the warmth of his body pressing into yours. The fresh tattoo on your hip still tingled, a reminder of the intense connection you had just forged.

You could feel the tension building as Austin withdrew sliding his thick cock out of you with a slow and deliberate pace. Each inch leaving you causing a yearning to feel full of him all over again. When the tip finally slipped out, he immediately pulled you close, craving the intimacy of your connection once more.

In that moment as you looked into each other’s eyes you both smiled feeling completely satisfied. The depth of your connection was undeniable, a powerful bond forged in the heat of passion and intimacy. You knew that you had experienced something truly unforgettable, a moment that would remain tattooed in your hearts forever.

❤️‍🔥END❤️‍🔥

🏷️ Always Tag Me List 💌

@burnthheparaphilia @abswifey @faegoddessog @lindszeppelin @purejasmine @obsessedvibee @austiebuttbutt @jessica987 @oh-my-front-door @slowsweetlove @hardcoredisneynerd @magicovento @thegabbyh @fallofthedamned @buckysteveloki-me @bucking-mustangs-with-wings @shegatsby @darlingisntit @unicoreads @lovereadingfanfic @elvismylove04 @shegatsby @denised916 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @shockercoco @minispice-1 @meetmeatyourworst @rougegenshin @avidreader73 @jkdaddy01 @mamawiggers1980 @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha 💕

[mightyflamethrower]

15 Facts About E. Jean Carroll’s Allegations Against Trump the Media Don’t Want You to Know

1.  Bergdorf Goodman has no surveillance video of the alleged incident.

2.  There are zero witnesses to the alleged sexual attack.

3.  Carroll first came forward — conveniently — with the allegations while promoting her book What Do We Need Men For? in 2019, which featured a list of “The Most Hideous Men of My Life.”

4.  Carroll was unable to remember when this alleged attack even occurred. She told her lawyer in 2023, “This question, the when, the when, the date, has been something I’ve [been] constantly trying to pin down.” She has jumped years — originally beginning with 1994, then moving to 1995, and even floating to 1996. She cannot remember the season in which the alleged attack occurred either.

5.  The Donna Karan blazer dress she claims to have worn during the alleged incident was not even available at the time of her claims. Trump Attorney Boris Epshteyn told reporters, “She said, ‘This is the dress I wore in 1994.’ They went back, they checked. The dress wasn’t even made in 1994.”

“And that’s why the date’s moved around. This is the 80s. Is it the 90s? Is it the 2000s? President Trump has consistently stated that he was falsely accused, and he has the right to defend himself,” he added.

6.  She never came forward with these allegations over the years despite constantly being open about sexuality, posting things that were very sexual in nature on social media — many of which Trump has shared. They include remarks such as “How do you know your ‘unwanted sexual advance’ is unwanted, until you advance it?” and “Sex Tip I Learned From My Dog: When in heat, chase the male until he collapses with exhaustion … then jump him!”

7.  She said she was never raped, telling the New York Times’ podcast, The Daily,“Every woman gets to choose her word. Every woman gets to choose how she describes it. This is my way of saying it. This is my word. My word is ‘fight.’ My word is not the ‘victim’ word. I have not — I have not been raped,” she continued. “I have — something has not been done to me. I fought. That’s the thing.”

8.  She named her cat “Vagina.” “Her dog, or her cat, was named ‘Vagina.’ The judge wouldn’t allow us to put that in — all of these things — but with her, they could put in anything: Access Hollywood,” Trump told CNN.

9.  Joe Tacopina, an attorney for Trump, pointed out in May 2023 that Carroll’s entire story has incredible similarities to a 2012 episode of Law & Order: Special Victims Unit. In that episode, titled “Theatre and Tricks,” an individual talks about a rape fantasy in Bergdorf Goodman — the same department store where Carroll claims the incident took place.

10.  Speaking of shows, Carroll loved Trump’s show The Apprentice.

“I was a big fan of the show. Very impressed by it,” Carroll said on the witness stand, adding that she “had never seen such a witty competition on TV, and it was about something worthwhile, competing.”

11.  Carroll made a joke associating sex with Bergdorf Goodman in a November 1993 edition of Elle, which was before the alleged Trump attack took place. As Breitbart News detailed:

Carroll was responding to a letter from a female reader concerned that she was having trouble achieving orgasm through sexual intercourse alone while the reader said that she could climax through foreplay. “Is there any way I could learn to reach orgasm through sex?” asked the reader in the November 1993 edition. “Maybe books I could read?” Carroll replied with the following advice (emphasis added): Dear Snowed Under: Stop flagellating yourself. Gadzooks! At least you have orgasms. And if that isn’t spontaneous sex I don’t know what is. Most women (about 70 percent) experience difficulties climaxing through intercourse alone. So you’re perfectly normal. Begin by reading For Yourself by Dr. Lonnie Barbach. She’ll give you excellent instructions on how to have an orgasm during intercourse. Then after 313 queenhell love-wiggles, move on to Gretta Garbo’s favorite love position – the top. (In erotic scenes, Garbo is always above the man. So are Sharon Stone, Bette Midler and Katherine Hepburn). Indeed, this location works better for women than the fourth floor of Bergdorf’s.

12.  Carroll is financially backed by anti-Trump Democrat megadonor Reid Hoffman, who has openly admitted to visiting convicted sex offender Jeffrey Epstein’s private island.

13.  Democrat party activists back her as well, as Breitbart News detailed:

Indeed, one of Carroll’s attorneys is Roberta Kaplan — a Democrat Party activist who led the group Time’s Up. She left the activist group after it was revealed she was aiding former New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo in attempting to discredit the Democrat’s accusers. It served as a great irony as Time’s Up seeks to defend women from what it claims is discrimination and harassment. This fact has led to mounting speculation that Kaplan only gets involved in cases that she views as politically expedient. Further, Federal District Judge Lewis Kaplan is overseeing the process and has connections to Carroll’s other attorney, Shawn Crowley. She was actually a law clerk for Judge Kaplan, and he officiated her wedding. That aside, Trump has denied knowing the left-wing activist as the only evidence of any contact is a single picture with Carroll greeting Trump and his ex-wife Ivana at an event greeting line over 35 years ago. Carroll has yet to provide solid evidence of this alleged encounter and will not use the dress that she claims had DNA on it from this alleged incident. Even Trump publicly said the dress should be part of the case. Further, there are no eyewitnesses of this alleged incident, which supposedly occurred at the popular New York City department store.

14.  The lawsuit was only able to proceed after Democrats created the Adult Survivors Act in 2022. She conveniently pursued this suit in November following the law going into effect, which allowed her to avoid the statute of limitations for this case.

15.  Carroll once said, “Most people think of rape as sexy.”

Donald Trump Jr. also retweeted a list of facts about Carroll, urging others to take a look:

- She couldn't recall the date, month, season, or year the incident happened -

She never told anyone about it, despite being publicly obsessed with her own sexuality -

The dress she claims to have been wearing didn't exist at the time -

Her description of the dressing room at Bergdorf Goodman was inaccurate, making her sequence of events impossible -

Her lawsuit was bankrolled by Jeffrey Epstein pal and Democrat (and Nikki Haley) mega-donor Reid Hoffman -

Democrats created a law (The Adult Survivors Act in 2022) to enable her lawsuit to proceed - Her accusation is the exact plotline of an episode of Law & Order (one of her "favorite shows") -

Trump's Apprentice was also one of her favorite shows -

She has a history of falsely accusing men of r*pe, including Les Moonves - She told Anderson Cooper, "most people think of r*pe as being sexy. Think of the fantasies." -

She made a career promoting promiscuity, even writing glowingly of sexual assault and naming her cat Vagina

We owe Stalin and Hitler a huge apology. We are ever so bad as they ever were. This isn't Justice. Its punishment for for disobeying the deep state elites.

[plor-bindery]

Bound: Long Haul by @wolfpants

As a writer, I often am fondest of my shorter stories, but these fics are not the obvious choice for binding because they're so little. I actually started setting this story a while ago but put the typeset aside when I realized it was going to be such a low page count.

But more recently, I have been experimenting with a pamphlet bind to see if short stories and/or text blocks can be bound to my satisfaction, and yep! They can!

I love this short story by wolfpants and I have read it often enough that it deserved to be bound and put in my library. The story contains lovely delicious smut and (as you'd expect from wolf) excellent character-building, dialogue, and just exactly the right amount of realism. Wolf writes true adult characters and I adore this about their writing.

More about process and materials under the cut!

Materials: This is a quarto letter pamphlet bind using letter-sized 24# paper. The end papers are chiyogami acquired in Montreal. Book boards are actually cut from matte board that came in some packet of supplies or another, about 1 mm thickness and quite a bit bendier than my usual 2 mm book board, but worked nicely and feels appropriate for this little baby.

Book cloth is wooqu off Amazon as per. I sewed the pamphlet using three strands of waxed embroidery floss. Spine is strengthened with mull and a little strip of the same paper as the text block. Cover decoration is HTV vinyl. A few titles are foiled with toner-activated foil and a laminator. (Big shout-out to @sits-bound for technical assistance with figuring out that process!)

Process: This is a sewn 64-page/16 sheet quarto. I followed DAS Bookbinding's YouTube video here pretty closely except (as you can see) I went for a full cloth bind. I also added the paper layer on the spine before wrapping in cloth. I did this because I found mull alone — at least my cheap-ass mull — was not making for a smooth spine. The paper was a huge help on this front.

This is actually my third attempt at this style of binding (not counting the versions I did in class under adult supervision) so please do not be too impressed, lol.

The whole thing is held together by 50/50 corn starch/PVA mix (as well as the thread.)

I trimmed the tail twice by accident so then I had to trim the head twice too, and so that's why my margins are slender. :D

The HTV decoration was designed by yours truly (if you look at it for very long you'll be like "oh yeah I can see that" ahahaha) but I was really pleased with how it came out. I think I'm FINALLY finding my successful approaches for applying HTV. And yes, it was a monumental pain in my ass to weed. Worth it!

Peep the grease mark on the front title page. Sexy. No idea where it's from but yowza.

Bind short fic! Short fic also deserves binding! *steps off soapbox*