#doodling in between assignment work | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prkhaven · 10 months ago

Text

TEACHER’S PET -p.sh-

A forbidden facade begins to ensue between you and your professor

pairing— professor!sunghoon x star uni. student fem!reader

genre: smut minors do not interact, professor au, forbidden love, professor x student, angsty, fluffy, age gap (sunghoon is in mid/late 20s while reader is in early 20s), p with plot, p with feelings

wc: 17.8k

warnings: sunghoon gets kind of mean, jealously, so much feelings, profanity, a little misunderstanding

smut warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple sex scenes, praising, degradation, dirty talk, p in v, fingering, throat fucking, overstimulation, some cum eating, creampies, headlocks, dom!sunghoon(but they're both freaks), usage of nicknames(baby, good girl, sir, slut, etc.), breeding kink, dacryphilia, cock warming, oral (m+f rec. and giving)

You’re the perfect student in your university. Acing all of your courses with ease, even the hardest course known on campus taught by the strictest teacher, Mr. Park.

Everyone saw and knew you worked hard in order to achieve everything you’ve accomplished, seeing your dedication and sleepless nights in order to complete an assignment perfectly.

Everyone wished to be just like you one day as you set the curve.

Whether you decide to admit it or not, you’re utterly admired by students, staff, faculty members, and teachers.

Each time your name came across papers, it was given extra attention to detail and care to just see how marvelous you worked on it.

But there was one teacher who absolutely adored you the most. Admiring the way you attentively took notes during lectures, how you furrow your eyebrows and pout your lips as you studied, or when you would lightly chew on your pen when going over questions, to simply the way you would come to him to ask questions without a worry while others were scared to even approach him.

Mr. Park adored you as a hard working student.

He also adored the side of you that wasn’t seen as professional. The way your legs would unconsciously squish together when trying to understand something or how you squirmed under his gaze when it was just you and him but then secretly taking glances to him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

But he deeply cherished the side of you that would get him fired. The way you would drop to your knees in front of him to prove that you deserved the extra point you were missing to achieve the hundred percent you desperately wanted.

And he could forever relish in the way you usher kisses from him as you studied in his office while he graded papers or the way he folds your body over his desk as he pounds into you mercifully for getting the highest mark once again.

Oh Mr. Park loved his favorite student.

✎ᝰ。

Sunghoon’s course was a two semester course for the minimum amount of material that was crammed in there. It was known to be the hardest course to pass which meant there were very few students who decided to take the challenge(you being one of them).

But there was no other teacher that understood the material like him, he was the top professor and you were the top student.

How you and Sunghoon began the forbidden fiasco was spontaneous but not unexpected. There was obvious tension already building in-between as he would catch you looking at him with a certain glint in your eyes before shyly looking away to focus back on the lecture.

However, his favorite was whenever he’s grading papers already feeling exhausted from giving such low marks and not enough high marks but his exhaustion would instantly fade away when he’d get to yours.

He always straightens up his posture to take a moment to properly appreciate how perfect your paper is. How you not only explained every point needed to receive full credit but even added some of your own input.

But what he loved more were the little doodles you would leave scatter on your paper to indicate your boredom after finishing.

His pen would softly trace the designs with a fond smile, a thought lingering to indulge himself in the opportunity presented to him. So he would write a simple comment alongside the doodle that caught his eyes the most.

And this time around it was a simple doodle of a house sitting on a hillside with a sunset far in the distant and flowers littering the landscape.

When you received your paper back, you’d smile at the big hundred percent in bright red ink in the corner of your paper but soon caught glimpse of your professor’s comment along your doodle.

Your smile would only get bigger seeing ‘got bored?’ next to the house doodle before glancing up to your professor who gave the faintest smile ever towards you before dropping it and continued to pass out the rest of the student’s papers.

The next time you had a paper due, you made sure to complete it with ease before writing back a response to his previous comment, hoping he would respond to it.

And once again as Sunghoon was up late at night grading papers, energy already drained, he finally made it to yours and his energy skyrocketed.

As he was grading your paper, he caught the doodle you did of yourself and a surprising response to his previous comment.

‘Yeah I am. Next time you should make these just a little harder Mr. Park’

He smirked to himself with a chuckle before nodding his head in amusement. You didn’t received an hundred percent this time around, but still received the highest mark out of everyone taking his course.

But he saw this an opportunity to tease you just a little bit.

‘Next time you should make sure to get an hundred then maybe I’ll consider it’

✎ᝰ。

You made an appointment with Sunghoon during the scheduled hours to discuss the possibility of him writing a letter of recommendation for an internship you’re hoping to get into during winter break.

As you stood in front of his door, you didn’t hesitate to knock on his office door softly and you heard him mutter ‘come in’ loud enough for you to hear and when you walked in he gave you a welcoming smile.

He’s been anticipating you ever since he saw your name pop up in the long list of appointments but he wondered what you needed from him. “Good evening”

You returned his kind smile with your own, “Good evening Mr. Park”

He motioned to the chair in front of his desk which you easily took, “What can I do for you?”

“I won’t take too much of your time, I know you’re a busy professor” Sunghoon lightly chuckled in his head at your statement, he could never be too busy for you.

“I was wondering if you could possibly write me a letter of recommendation? There’s an internship I really would enjoy to attend but it requires one from a professor” You explained and you noticed how you had his full undivided attention

He nodded at every word you said before lightly clasping his hands together. “I have no issues doing so, email the information of your internship” Your smile spread across your face hearing his easy acceptance to your request but he was curious about one thing. “If I may ask, why choose to ask me for this?”

“I’m sure you’re well aware I’m not exactly the most easy going professor. And you and I both know many other professors would’ve adored to take this opportunity if you asked”

“Well that’s exactly the reason Mr. Park. You’re not easy going. If I asked another professor of mine to write one I’m sure they will gush on and on about my achievements and how wonderful of a student I am but not of me as a person and my dedication” You explained and Sunghoon felt a sense of pride in his chest but he tried push that feeling down

He shouldn’t be feeling this, you were only coming to him for a letter of recommendation. Nothing more and nothing less of that.

He gave a curt nod to your explanation before you thanked him profusely which he kindly waved off.

“I hope you’re able to have a wonderful winter break Mr. Park!” Your bright smile made his heart churn in itself but he tried so hard to shake it off

“You as well. I hope you’re able to attend your internship”

“Oh I’ll definitely get in if I have you writing my letter of recommendation” Your words weighed heavy on his shoulders and heart

✎ᝰ。

It was deep into winter break and Sunghoon was roaming through the streets on Christmas eve alone. He saw how couples were smiling as they held hands, walking by simply happy to spend the holidays together.

Now he never cared for having a relationship, having his priorities lie within his work. But there were times, times like this, that made he wonder what his life would be like if he had someone.

But he wasn’t going to dwell on something that wasn’t real. He was going about his business to head back home when he suddenly heard a familiar voice he didn’t expect to hear on Christmas eve.

He turned and saw your bundled up self making your way towards him, you looked so cute under the faint store and street lights. He shook his head from that thought and gave a confused expression to which you giggled at.

You noticed how different he looked from how you usually see him during class. Instead of his usual business attire with his rimless clear glasses, his attire now fitted to the cold weather to keep him warm, his hair out of its usual style, and his glasses long discarded.

Your heart fluttered in your chest seeing how he looked under the skylit night. There was never any denying that he was a very attractive person.

“Good evening Mr. Park” You greeted when you reached him and he gave a nod, not trusting himself to speak “What are you doing out on Christmas eve by yourself?”

“I could ask you the same thing” You chuckled slightly raising your hands up in defeat at his remark to your question

“Internship finally let me out for the next two days” His eyes blinked harsher hearing your sentence, you got the internship?

You chuckled softly at his reaction as you could read him like an open book. “Your letter of recommendation worked. I was one of the first people to receive a spot, so whatever you wrote did wonders on them” His lips curled into a smile, pleased to hear that he was able to help you

“Congratulations, I’m happy to hear that”

After his congratulation, the two of you stayed in an awkward silence. Neither sure of whether to continue the conversation or cut it off at that, but before stressing over it more the smallest snowflake fell between and caught your attention.

Both of you looked to sky to see the snowfall, realizing it was going to be a white Christmas. You smiled softly as you rested your hand out to catch the falling snow.

Sunghoon shifted his gaze from the sky onto you and saw how the moonlight and snowfall painted your eyes like you held in the universe in them.

“Do you want to have dinner?” Sunghoon’s words fell from his mouth before he could even realize what he was saying

He stopped and cursed at himself under his breath for allowing his thought to slip through his mouth and when he heard silence from you, he wanted the world to swallow him whole in that moment.

But your response is what brought him back to reality, “I would like that”

“What?”

“You asked me to dinner and I said I would like that. Don’t tell me you’re backing away from your offer Mr-“

“Please call me Sunghoon when we’re outside of school grounds” He stopped you from continuing your sentence and you held back a smile and nodded your head

“Alright then Sunghoon, what do you have in mind for dinner?”

Oh he really had done it to himself now. He was doomed.

✎ᝰ。

Your face crinkled as you laughed at something Sunghoon had said as you were leaving the restaurant. You expected the dinner to be awkward but instead it was like the two of you had known each other for years. Not a single ounce of tension was felt even though he was your professor and you were his student.

Sunghoon arrived to his car and he shot you a confused look when he saw you weren’t following. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sending you off, I have to get a taxi to go back to mine” You told and Sunghoon shook his head, what kind of monster would he be if he left you to take a taxi

“Nonsense, I’ll drive you. No need to waste money” He told before opening the passenger door for you and your heart stopped

“A-are you sure? I really don’t mind taking a taxi Mr-”

“Please I insist. And you were doing so good not calling me Mr. Park throughout the dinner” You nervously gulped as you unconsciously squished your thighs a little closer together hearing the hint of praise from him

Sunghoon took notice of you squishing your thighs after his words and he could feel his stomach crawling inside out as he tilted his neck to the side to knock some sense into himself. He couldn’t, he possibly couldn’t.

Oh but he could and he did.

Because here he was inside your place, in your bed, his body flushed in between your legs as he feverishly kissed you like no tomorrow.

He was only supposed to walk you to your front door to make sure you got in safely but what he didn’t expect was for you to crash your lips onto his the moment the clock struck 12.

“Merry Christmas Sunghoon” You mumbled against his lips and he didn’t remember the last time someone had genuinely wished him one

He knows he should’ve pushed you away, to tell you that this was wrong, that neither of you could do this. But he was twisted, sick, and messy in his head. He couldn’t get enough of your taste now that he got a sliver of it.

Your hold on him was something so desperate and needy that he couldn’t possibly let you go as the two of you found a feverish pace for the kiss. The snow falling over your bundle up bodies as the dim light shun above you two outside your front door.

Sunghoon’s arms were hesitant to wrap around you to bring you impossibly closer to him and you noticed. You wanted, needed, him to hold you the way you were clinging onto him.

You carefully brought his arms to hold you and he let out a soft noise when he finally felt you in his arms. It felt so right to have you there as if you were meant to be there in the first place (in his mind you were).

He could feel the lack of oxygen in him but he couldn’t care in the slightest. Your lips were like a paradise and he rather give up heaven if he had to just to keep tasting you.

“I need you Sunghoon” He stopped kissing you and pulled away to stare at you with wide eyes, not expecting to hear those words to ever leave your mouth

Your pupils were blown out wide as you stared up to him with a cloud of lust filling your eyes. His mind became hazy as it ran miles in a loop of the only rational thought holding onto dear life. He shouldn’t give in.

But the way your lips fit perfectly with his and the way you felt under his touch. He threw all his rationality out of the window, unable to say no to you when you’re willingly offering yourself so preciously to him.

His lips soon found a place on your jaw before tracing down to your neck in a haste. “Gonna have to do better than that to get my cock” You relished in his words as you knew this was the sign you’ve been longing for

You bit back your smirk and you let your body melt in his touch and kisses as your hands found their way to his hair to mess it up from its middle part.

“Then let me bring you inside” You whispered just loud enough for him to hear and Sunghoon forced himself to detach from you to allow you open the door

As you hastily tried to open the door wanting to get him inside as soon as possible, Sunghoon’s arms wrapped around you, allowing himself to get lost in the daze of you.

He kissed the side of your face not able to get enough of you as his thumbs rubbed circles on your coated body. Even though there was a multiple layers between you and his touch, you could still feel his touch burn your body.

When you finally opened the door, he quickly pushed you inside and locked the front door.

The moment he turned to face you, you grabbed him by the collar to kiss him once again. He chuckled against your lips as your hands began removing his layers. “You can start taking mine off too” You mumbled and he was quick to remove the piece of clothing that prevented him from touching your skin.

The kiss became more impatient as you guided him towards your room, neither of your lips breaking from each other. You had your hands mixed in his hair as his hands roamed over your body, trying memorize every single crevice on your body.

When you made it to your room, you knocked the door open and broke off the kiss to push him onto your bed with a pant. Sunghoon looked to you to take a moment to properly comprehend that this was actually happening.

Your eyes darting over him to burn how you had your professor sitting on your bed burned into your memory.

As your eyes found his, you slowly began to remove your shirt and Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. You gulped as you discarded your shirt somewhere leaving you in your bra as you took off your pants.

He was trying everything in his willpower to not look anywhere else besides your eyes as you were removing your last piece of clothing. When you kicked your pants off somewhere in your room, you were now left in your undergarments only.

Sunghoon who witnessed it, couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that you, his student, his favorite student actually, was now crawling onto his lap.

He gulped as his hands unconsciously grabbed your hips as you positioned yourself right on top of him. He let out a deep groan feeling your clothed core right above his hard on.

You gasped feeling him against you, even though he was restraint through his pants, you could still his imprint. You slowly rocked your hips to rub yourself against him, letting desperate whines leave your mouth for him.

This was not how either of you expected your Christmas to go.

But nevertheless, Sunghoon couldn’t take it anymore. He flipped you onto your back and you let out a shocked squeal at how easily he did that but your mind went blank as he removed his shirt and your jaw dropped.

You knew Sunghoon had muscles, you could tell by the way his shirts would fit around him during class but you didn’t realize just how sculpted his body was. Your eyes trailed over him and you felt your heart pounding against your chest.

But you were disrupted from your thought as he dove straight into your neck to leave wet open kisses.

You moaned softly feeling his lips, his hands roaming higher up your body until they found your breast. He unclasped your bra with ease and freed your mounds before attaching his lips onto your left one, sucking and kissing your already harden nipple and having his free hand to pinch your right one.

You jolted harshly at the sensation on both of your nipples and you could feel his smirk against your body.

His tongue glided over your sensitive nipple making you whimper loudly, fingers pinching them before rubbing his thumb over it to soothe the nerves. He removed his lips from your boob, bringing his lips onto yours. You grabbed his wrist as his hands held your boobs as he flushed himself against you.

You felt the poke against your clothed core and as embarrassing as it was, you almost came right then and there.

You don’t remember the last time you ever got with someone, too focused on school (and secretly your professor) that you didn’t even have time to take care of yourself.

You rubbed yourself against his leg that laid between your legs and he grinned in the kiss as he bit your lips harshly causing you to squeal.

“Such a fucking slut. Can’t even wait for me to fuck you that you’re already rubbing your soaking pussy against me” Sunghoon grabbed your chin forcing you to look down on the leg you were grinding on and the wet patch you left behind

“Rubbing me like some bitch in heat” You whimpered at his words and you shook your head trying to prove yourself but your actions spoke other wise

All you knew were praises but hearing such belittling words from your professor only made you wetter and you desperately needed him inside of you. “Please Mr. Park plea-” But you didn’t expect him to squish your face in his hand as he forced you to look at him

His harsh lust filled gaze send a wave down to your already dripping self. “Call me sir”

Your throat went dry, never using such nicknames before. But you heard the sternness of his voice which only fueled you even more. “S-sir” You tested the foreign nickname on your tongue for the first time and hearing it fall from your lips went straight to his cock

Having the top student sprawled beneath him begging for him did wonders on his mind. But he wasn’t going to give in that easily.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that. I need words, what do you want me to do?” Sunghoon teased as he already knew exactly what you wanted

But something about having you beg for him riled him up. Just because it was you didn’t mean you were easily going to get what you wanted from him.

“Sir please” Your voice full of desperation, “I-I need you inside of me. Need you to feel you. Want you to fill me up with your cock, I need you” You chocked out in whines and Sunghoon smirked seeing you wither before him

“Such a good little slut” He kissed the side of your face making you squeal, and you finally heard the unbuckling his belt and your heart raced

You looked down to see him freeing his harden cock which sprung out, hitting his abdomen and your jaw dropped seeing his size. This was nothing compared to what you thought it was when you were rubbing yourself against him.

You clearly underestimated your professors size and he noticed, “Oh don’t tell me you thought I was small. Come on, give me some credit” He smirked noticing you gulping nervously as you were amazed by his size

Your hands went to admire him and he groaned when your hands wrapped around him with a daze in your eyes. He closed his eyes as you softly pumped him almost causing him to throw his head back from the sheer pleasure.

With the faintest touches, you were already sending him into an overdrive. He doesn’t know if it’s because it’s been so long since he’s last been with someone like this or if it was because his deep hidden forbidden desires were being fulfilled by the only person in his mind, you.

His eyes clamped harder when he felt your hand go lower to fiddle with his aching balls that have been waiting months to be released.

“You’re so heavy” You mumbled at the observation and you noticed his angry tip leaking precum

You knew how bad your thoughts were in that moment, but you needed him to rearrange your whole intestines.

Your hands brought him over your stomach to measure just how deep he would be inside of you and you nervously gulped seeing how far deep he would be, “I don’t know if you’re gonna fit…”

Sunghoon murmured a soft ‘fuck’ under his breath seeing just how deep he would be inside of you, he almost lost control and rammed into you to make you dumb and only think about his cock.

But he knew you were right, he didn’t even know himself if he could fit inside of you.

“Then we’ll make it fit. You’ll be a good girl and take it right? Take all of me and everything I give you?” You looked up to him with doe eyes and Sunghoon needed to ruin you as you innocently nodded your head

He hummed pleased with your nod before having his fingers play with the fabric of your panties, noticing how it clung to your wetness as he peeled them off you painfully slow.

The more you were becoming exposed to him, the more you were growing shy and when he finally removed your panties, you unconsciously covered your bare self with your hands.

Sunghoon smack his tongue against his teeth before moving your hands away to admire you in all your glory. He saw how your soaked core gleamed with your arousal and he was captivated by you. He took a moment to appreciate you and your cheeks burned as his gaze never left your gaping hole.

“Perfect, absolutely perfect” He mumbled to himself before holding himself in his hands, giving himself a few pumps before dragging his tip across your wet self in a teasing manner, his precum and your arousal smearing together making the most beautiful scene in front of him.

Your hole clenched around nothing as he tapped his tip against your empty hole that begged to be filled and destroyed by him.

But you whined impatiently as he replaced his aching cock with his slender fingers. Even though, he desperately wanted to just be inside you, he knew he would split you in half and not in the good way if he didn’t prep you.

You bit your lip as you felt his fingers graze over your wetness and you looked down to see Sunghoon in a daze as he watched you coat his fingers.

You were going to say something but you gasped when you suddenly felt his finger enter you without any warning. He hissed at your tightness as he slowly pumped his finger in and out of you. Your body melted into your mattress from his finger alone.

Sunghoon soon entered a second finger, stretching you out a little more. You let out soft moans and it was like music to his ears. His fingers painfully dragged in and out as his thumb found a resting point on your clit.

The slow circles on your sensitive bud made your body jolt as the moans became louder and heavier. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach and right when it was going to snap, Sunghoon ripped his hand away.

You frustratedly whined that your close orgasm was ripped from you. Sunghoon chuckled seeing your frustrated state as small tears filled the corner of your eyes, daring to fall.

You saw as he stuck the fingers that were just inside of you inside him mouth as he hummed wildly tasting you for the first time.

“You taste so sweet baby” The endearing nickname filled your ears and mind as your frustration melted away as your heart warmed

But that didn’t last too long as it quickly overshadowed by the desperate need for him. “S-Sir p-please” You broke out in a whimper and Sunghoon cooed you as he rubbed your cheek softly

“You’ve been doing so well, I’m so proud of you baby” He tried to calm down your sniffled self as he grabbed his cock in his hand before dragging his tip across your pussy again before protruding your hole with his tip

Your mouth fell slack as you could feel him slipping in as he hissed by how tight you were. Your mind was already sent into a drunken dazed by the stretch you’ve never felt before.

He let out a broken chuckle as he saw your expression, “You’re already gone and I only gave you a taste of my tip” He continued to ease his way in, the clench making it difficult for him

“B-Big” You admitted breathlessly the moment he finally made it halfway

The two of you panted heavily feeling the undeniable pain but pleasurable stretch as Sunghoon nearly lost himself in the hold you had on his cock.

He gave you sometime to adjust as he rubbed a hand on your hips to help your shuddering and after a few moments you gave him a weak nod to keep going.

As he kept moving deeper into you, your gasp only grew louder, your hands resting on his shoulder as your fingertips dug into his shoulders.

He hissed feeling your fingertips in his shoulders but he continued to slowly push through. With each passing second, tears fell down your face and Sunghoon kissed your tears away.

“I know baby, I know. You can take it. I promise it’ll feel so good” You whimpered as you wrapped your arm around him to hold him close to your aching body

He finally bottomed out and the two of you let out a heavy shudder trying to get use to the taste the new forbidden heaven.

“You’re so pretty baby. So damn pretty” He praised you hoping it helped ease you and it did to a certain extent

The stretch was undeniably delicious and when lightly tapped his back, a sign for him to move, he smiled weakly, giving shallow thrust at first.

From his first thrust, you felt a new side of pleasure you never felt before. No one ever being able to make you feel like this till this day. You just never expected the one to show you this new world of pleasure would be your own professor.

You moaned as you held him close to you as he found a spot in the crook of your neck. The noises you tried to contain became loose in his ears when he began to pick up pace as his tip started to kiss your cervix with each thrust which you didn’t even know was possible.

“F-fuck baby. Gonna fuck you so good” He gruntled against your neck as he soon found a pace that made you fall apart on his cock

His pelvis met with your clit from the close proximity and you were seeing stars. “M-Mr- Sun-Hoo-Sir” Your mind didn’t know what to call Sunghoon in this moment

“How often did you think about your professor’s cock ramming into you? Bet you waited for the day to lure me into your bed just so that I can fuck you like the slut you are” Sunghoon spewed the brewing thoughts in his head

“E-every d-day Sung…H-hoon” You managed to moan out as the friction against your clit made you unintentionally tighten around Sunghoon’s hammering cock inside of you and the two of you were falling apart from the pleasure.

“Just like that, say my fucking name from your pretty mouth” Sunghoon pulled away from his spot on your neck to look at your sprawled body as he gripped your sides to slam his hips harsher against yours. “Nothing in that pretty head of yours but my name”

You knocked your head back as you tightly gripped your sheets, trying to hold in your sounds as best as you could but Sunghoon wouldn’t allow that. He rubbed his fingers over your swollen clit causing you to scream and cover your mouth surprised by the loud noise that left your mouth.

“Let the whole neighborhood know who’s fucking you this good. Let them hear you moan and whine like the slut you are for your professor’s cock” You were beyond the edge as his hips snapped against yours, your body jolting into the mattress with each of his thrust

And he loved the scene before him, the way your breast bounced from his harsh thrust, how your head was thrown back and your mouth was wide open with nothing but calls of his name and moans leaving it.

You arched your back sending a new shock of pleasure over you and Sunghoon’s managed to somehow go even deeper with the new angle as he held your lower back to keep your back arched as he continued to pound into you like you were his own toy.

“Clo-Close s-ir” You whined as you could feel the familiar knot forming in your stomach again. “Please! ‘m g-gonna come”

“Then come for me” Sunghoon voice was hot against your ringing ears and that was the push you needed before a tidal wave of pleasure crashed over you

You moaned loudly and Sunghoon groaned feeling you tightened around him from your climax and he noticed how you tried to pull away from him due to the simulation of his slipping cock in you.

You thought it was over as you panted tiredly and he slowed down his pace. But your legs were suddenly thrown over his shoulders as your body was pressed deeper into the mattress before he picked up his pace again.

You let out a loud sound, clawing at your sheets from the stimulation as your mind reeled from his brutal pace on your hole.

“We’re not done until I dump all of my cum inside you like my own personal cumdump” With the mention of the new nickname, you clamped down harder on him and he smirked feeling your reaction to his degrading words

“Oh? You like being your professor’s cumdump? You like knowing that you’ll be full of my cum so deep inside you, don’t you slut?”

“Yes yes yes” You blabbed as Sunghoon’s pace never let up as your pussy only continued to suck him in. “Gonna milk me for all my worth” Sunghoon groaned, feeling his own high rising

When you felt his cock twitch inside of you, you knew he was close. You clamped harder down on him wanting to stay true to his words. You were going to milk him for all his worth.

“Fuck! Tightening around me like that” Sunghoon panted as his head landed against your ear, Sunghoon’s thrust meeting your skin harshly that you swore there were would be bruising left

“Want all of it” Your voice was like a siren to him and Sunghoon knew exactly what you were referring to and he smirked proudly

“You want my cum that badly?” Your weak nods were sent straight to his ragging cock but suddenly he pulled out of you, making you feel empty

You whined loudly at the sudden emptiness, “Hoonie” The foreign nickname dragged out of your mouth and Sunghoon froze hearing it

He never knew such a nickname could make his heart flip and slowly have a power to conquer over him. He was going to need you to call him that forever.

He quickly lined himself back to your gaping hole before ramming his cock back into you with one thrust causing all air to be knocked out of you.

His pace was even more brutal as he used you like his own personal fleshlight. “H-Hoonie” You called out again and his mind was stuck on filling you up. He kept muttering soft ‘fucks’ and ‘just like that’ as he kept using your hole

But when he slowed down his pace suddenly after being so harsh and sloppy, you were going to complain before feeling such sharp thrust into you, jolting your body forwards until you felt hot spurts of his cum shoot deep inside you as Sunghoon rode out his high.

Sunghoon was telling the truth about filling you up as he gave a few more strokes inside of you to make sure his cum remained deep inside of you before painfully pulling out. He huffed, feeling the pressure of you finally releasing him and you whimpered feeling empty without him.

Sunghoon rubbed your sides as he admired your face shining in an afterglow he left you in. He smiled tiredly, planting kisses on your face. “You did so well baby, my good girl” His praises made you clench around nothing which forced his and your mix of cum to spill out of you

Sunghoon’s eyes traveled down and he was blessed that he did because he witnessed the most dazzling scene he had ever watched.

“You’re so fucking beautiful baby” He murmured as he pulled away from your sore body, creasing your inner thigh as he admired his work

You shivered feeling the sudden cold without his warmth on your body, your eyelids becoming heavy but your mouth fell open when his finger scooped around your messy pussy before sliding the mess back in.

“Don’t want to let it go to waste” Sunghoon hummed pushing his cum back deep into you, right where it was meant to be in

✎ᝰ。

Now in the present time. You made your way to Sunghoon’s office, having a bounce to your steps. As you walked through the campus, many people from students to the dean of the university happily greeted you as you passed by.

You were happy to wave back to them before finally reaching the destination you wanted to be at in the first place. You softly knocked on Sunghoon’s office door and it was almost as if he knew it was you(he did).

When he gave you the all clear to enter, you opened the door to peak your head inside before bringing in the rest of your body and Sunghoon swirled in his chair to face you as you walked in. Sunghoon had his rimless clear glasses hanging from his nose, a paper in hand with his white button sleeves folded up to his forearms, the watch you gifted him as a late birthday present gleamed on his wrist under the warm dim lighting and a few of the buttons undone from his shirt.

It was near the end of the day and the university was clearing up as faculty members and students finally left after finishing another tired filled day.

But unlike you, it was no surprise that people would see you staying behind to ‘study’ when in reality 5 times out of the week, you’re finding your way to Sunghoon’s office for the ‘briefings’ the two of you had established after that blissful night on Christmas day.

“Good evening Mr. Park” You greeted him formally but as you closed the door making sure to lock it, you went over to your favorite professor desk, dropping your bag on the chair in front of his desk as you went over to give him a kiss which he happily accepted

“Hi baby” He murmured in the kiss having missed your presence even though he saw you earlier that morning for the morning lecture

But that was never enough for him, he could only discreetly glance across the lecture hall as you attentively paid attention to his lesson.

He softly placed a hand on the back of your head to keep you against his lips for a moment longer before finally pulling away.

When he pulled away, he saw the dopey grin you had and his heart swelled. You went to grab your discarded bag on the chair before dragging the lonely chair in the corner of Sunghoon’s office that he reserved just for you and grabbed your laptop and all the papers you needed.

Sunghoon adjusted his own papers to accommodate your stuff now clamoring his desk just like how he always did for you.As you made yourself comfortable, you and Sunghoon stayed in comfortable silence as the two of you worked on your respective tasks.

This was how it usually starts whenever you came to visit your favorite professor for ‘debriefings’.

However, if it were to go further than this, it always depended on if either of you were in the mood (which was almost always) and who would initiate it first.

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes reading over a paper that made absolutely no sense, his hand slipped onto your thigh, giving a light squeeze when he saw yet another error on the paper.

You didn’t even flinch in the slightest from the squeeze, already used to it as you continued to type away on your laptop trying to submit something that was not even due until 2 weeks from now, but you always loved being ahead of the game.

You slightly tilted your head confused when you received an email but when you opened it, you silently squealed happily which caught Sunghoon’s attention.

He peeled his gaze away from the paper onto you who was smiling widely at your laptop screen. You could feel his questioning gaze and you faced him showing off your beautiful smile as you turned the laptop around for him to read the email you received.

He read the email with a stoic face but a small smile soon rose to his face when he finished. In the email it stated that you were the top student to receive the highest marks in the past semester finals.

“Congratulations baby” Your heart swelled to Sunghoon’s praise as you cheekily smiled, feeling proud of the achievement you accomplished yet again

“Last semester was a little harder so I’m surprised I placed first again” You admitted but you melted when Sunghoon soon creased your face feeling just how ultimately proud he was

“You achieved it because you deserved it, don’t ever doubt yourself” You rubbed your cheek against his hand, the smile still on your face and Sunghoon quickly put the paper in hand down and carefully pulled you onto his lap

You squeaked when you landed on his lap as he continued to crease your face as he stared at you with pure admiration. “So proud of my baby” He murmured as he planted softly kisses against your arm

You giggled the moment his mouth came to contact with your skin and you could feel his smile to your giggles, his arms snaking around your body, holding you firm on his lap.

“You deserve a reward don’t you? For such an achievement” He spoke as he looked to you and you shyly nodded your head because no matter how many times you were in this position you will still feel butterflies in your stomach

“I have to meet some deadlines this afternoon so give me a few minutes okay?” Your smile soon turned to a slight frown but you nodded your head in understanding

Sunghoon’s heart shattered seeing the frown on your face and he immediately offered something to help ease you until he could properly give you the treatment you deserve.

“Come sit on me mhm? Just to bay your aching self” You immediately perked at Sunghoon’s alternative and you were quick to start unbuckling his belt

He chuckled lowly seeing just how eager you were as you pulled your own pants down. “It’s almost as if you only work hard to get things from me” He joked, he knows it wasn’t true, you were naturally a hard worker but he liked to teased

When you pulled out his cock from his pants, you nearly salivated forgetting just how much you loved it. You saw how it softly twitched in your hand as it was slowly hardening. You smiled softly before pulling your panties to the side, you didn’t expect to need any prep because of the amount of arousal leaking out of you just by his praises alone.

You teased his growing angry tip with your hole and you slightly hisses thinking you would’ve been able to take it without prep but you overestimated yourself.

Sunghoon saw how your face contorted from the sudden stretch you thought you could handle and at first he was going to help you but as he saw you struggled to take him, he decided to let you take the lead.

His hands found their way to your hips to help steady yourself as you finally began to sink on him. Your soft gasp and whimpers and the way you clenched around him fueled Sunghoon to the moon. He tried to control himself from throwing everything off his desk to absolutely pound into you.

But he remembered he only offered you to sit on him until he finishes his work to meet his deadlines, but he was foolish to not think of his own being in this matter. He was snapped out of his thoughts when you bottomed out, you and him slightly hissing, you at the stretch and Sunghoon from the clench.

He rubbed circles on your hips. “You okay baby?” His words made you weakly nod, resting your forehand with his

He closed his eyes to be in the moment of having you in his arms, you wrapped so intimately around him. He soon found your lips with his as he gave you a loving kiss which you reciprocated with ease. You hummed happily in his kiss as your hands held the side of his face.

“I have to finish my deadline baby” Sunghoon told in between the kiss but you didn’t want to let him go just yet

“Five more minutes please” You pleaded as you pulled away and he couldn’t say no to you, he grabbed the back of your nape before brining your lips back onto his

You smiled happily in the kiss as you continued to sit on his lap, feeling his cock twitch every now, desperately wanting to move but not able to just yet.

When he pulled away from the kiss, your lips chased after his for a few more seconds and he smiled warmly at your actions.

“The quicker I finish this, the quicker I’m yours” He soothed your hips and ass that stayed pressed against him

You sighed heavily before turning around, you and him gasping at the small friction created, craving more but both of knocking yourself out of that haze.

You faced your back towards him as you poorly dragged your laptop to continue working.

Sunghoon weakly smiled before grabbing the discarded paper he was grading, before adjusting his glasses up his nose bridge as he continued reading over it.

A casual debriefing with your favorite professor.

✎ᝰ。

“Today you will be working in pairs for the assignment. Choose your partner carefully” Sunghoon announced dismissing the students that were quick to mingle with one another to see who would be willingly to be their partners

You remained sitting at your seat before placing your headphones on and beginning to tap away at your keyboard having the intent to finish the assignment quickly wanting to take a nap before going on the rest of your day.

You worked alone on every group or paired assignment Sunghoon assigned as he deemed it unfair how people would only pair up with you to have the intentions of taking advantage of your intelligence to get themselves a high mark.

So Sunghoon didn’t allow others to pair up with you which bothered you at first but you soon enjoyed it as you were able to go at the pace you wanted and complete the assignment the way you wanted to.

As you happily typed away searching through the textbook with your music playing. You were too engrossed in the assignment that you were brought back to reality when you felt a faint tap on your shoulder.

You looked away from your laptop to see a guy you’ve never seen before. His mouth was moving but you couldn’t hear him, you pulled on the side of your headphone away from your ear to listen.

“Oh I was speaking to you when you had headphones in, I’m sorry” He rambled out the apology as he nervously fiddled with his fingers, you could hear the hint of some type of accent in his voice as you waved him off to not worry about it

“I’m sorry to bother you, I just saw that you were working alone and I was wondering if you would like to partner up with me” The guys shyly asked as he rubbed his nape awkwardly waiting for your response

“I’m Jake by the way, I didn’t introduce myself earlier” The said Jake guy smiled and you gave a heartfelt smile in return “And you are?“

Your eyes widen at his question, Jake didn’t know who you were. But instead of being offended as others thought you would be if people didn’t know you were, it felt like a breath of fresh air.

You were so used to people having exceptions for you and you didn’t mind them knowing that it’s how you presented yourself but it was nice to know someone who was oblivious to who you were.

You introduced yourself to Jake and he continued to give you a kind smile before asking if he could take the seat next to you. You decided to indulge in this waif of fresh air in the form of Jake just a little, you had a good feeling that he wouldn’t be using you just to get a high mark.

However, you didn’t realize the piercing gaze that shot towards you from the professor’s podium. Sunghoon gripped the side of the podium tightly that he might’ve left indents but he didn’t care.

Seeing you suddenly became all chatty with someone set something ugly in him. The way you were smiling at the guy who awfully took a seat close to you made something in him rot. Why were you smiling like that?

Yet, Sunghoon found it even more sickening that his students took notice the new pair of you and Jake. They knew Sunghoon’s rule that no one was allowed to pair up with you to provide fairness which was half true so why wasn’t he applying the rule onto Jake? He wondered that himself but he saw how you looked relaxed in his presence and he decided to let you have your little fun.

What was supposed to be a paired project that took up the whole class, was completed by you and Jake not even 30 minutes later after assigning it and that bothered Sunghoon greatly.

You were laughing at something Jake said as you were walking up to Sunghoon’s desk and when you reached it, you immediately knew something was off. Instead of raising his head to give you his undivided attention like always, he didn’t bother to look up.

He kept his gaze down at his desk that was scattered with papers and he only motioned for you lay the paper down at the corner of the desk instead of handing it to him to grade immediately.

Your stomach churned as you noticed Sunghoon was treating you differently today. He didn’t utter a single remark to you on how you finished early and only remained silent.

You stayed frozen for a moment in shock to his new behavior towards you but he didn’t seem to care in the slightest and this made your heart hurt.

Jake faintly called your name to garner your zoned attention and when you finally began peeling yourself away from his desk, Sunghoon finally called out your name.

You turned almost immediately that you hoped no one noticed. You saw Sunghoon skimming through yours and Jake’s completed paper, his grimace growing by the second.

“Please meet me in my office later to discuss your performance in my class” Sunghoon said before placing the paper back down, letting out a disappointed sigh as he adjusted his glasses

Your heart dropped. You could only aimlessly nod your head as your mind reeled with questions and worry.

“Uh do you need to see me as well Mr. Park?” Jake chimed in and Sunghoon didn’t even dare to look at Jake and shook his head

“No, this only concerns her. She is the top student and it would pain the whole university to see her slip up” Sunghoon’s words cut through you like a knife and you tried to hold back the tears that burned your eyes

You hated when you were talked down upon, especially when it came to your academics and Sunghoon knew that perfectly well.

✎ᝰ。

You softly knocked on Sunghoon’s office door at the usual time for the ‘debriefings’ and he called you in with a tone that you had never heard before. You struggled to swallow down as you stepped into his office and having to be on the receiving end of Sunghoon’s harsh gaze.

It was as if your brain went into autopilot as you fell into you usual routine whenever you were in his office. You closed the door behind you, making sure it’s locked, dropping your bag on the chair in front of his desk and going over to his side to give him a kiss.

But right when you were going to kiss him, Sunghoon jerked away from you adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. You blinked unexpected by his actions as the unease started to settle in your stomach more as you stared at him as he motioned for to sit but not in your usual seat reserved for you.

Forced to sit in the seat that he made everyone else sit on. You could feel your heart crawling to your throat as your heavy steps took you to the chair in front of him, grabbing your bag before placing it on your lap.

“Do you know I asked for you here?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow as he rested his elbow on his desk

Your eyes shifted from him and onto your lap as you fiddled with your fingers and you could hear his heavy sigh at your lack of response. “Well you should’ve checked your work before submitting it to me” He told

Your eyes widen as it finally registered in your mind. You made to triple check the work before submitting it to Sunghoon and you knew it was correct. But hearing it from his harsh tones made your eyes watered with tears as you believed his words that you were in fact slipping up.

Sunghoon noticed your demeanor dropping at his words and he wanted to ease your growing frantic self, always despising seeing you like this as he knew you took your academics very seriously, but a greater rage burned him that made him overlook you.

“You know we take academic here very serious, especially yours. Do you know how much it pained me to give you a failing grade on the assignment?” Your jaw dropped as you let out a shivered breath

You’ve never failed an assignment before so hearing that that you received your very first failing grade especially it being from Sunghoon’s class made your world crash down.

You stared at him with fear spreading across your face and you almost broke down right then and there.

“I-I failed it?” Your voice was shaky as you tried to keep your composure as you stared to Sunghoon with teary eyes

Of course you didn’t actually fail the assignment, you excelled in it like you always did. However, Sunghoon was so bothered that most of the answers weren’t in your handwriting but rather by someone else’s, your partner, Jake.

It aggravated him skimming over the paper seeing the doodles he usually loves smeared with someone else’s doodles along side yours.

There were signs of multiple tic tac toe rounds on the paper with little notes saying ‘I win’ or ‘You lose’ in your handwriting that was responded to by Jake’s writing of ‘I’ll win next round’ or ‘I’ll destroy you’.

I’ll destroy you.

Sunghoon wanted to burn the paper to atoms acting like it never existed in the first place but he couldn’t do that. He had to put the grade in for his favorite student.

“It breaks my heart to put the grade in” Sunghoon sighed but you quickly weeped in pure desperation

“Sunghoon it’ll drop my grade down, it’ll cause my overall GPA to drop! Please don’t put it in. I’ll do anything! Just please don’t put it in the grade book” Your sniffled pleas set something off in Sunghoon as he saw the tears spilling from your eyes, in his eyes you were the prettiest crier

“Anything?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow and you quickly got up from the seat and dropped yourself down to your knees in front of him as you stared up to him with teary eyes

It wasn’t your first time being in this position, but it was the first time that you were doing this in order to avoid a failing grade. But you simply couldn’t afford it.

Sunghoon got up from his chair before crouching to meet at your level. “Aw my good girl knows just what to do” He hummed warmly as you lips quivered from held back sobs

He wiped your tears away with his thumb with a sinister look in his eye before taking place back in his chair as he manspread in front of you, waiting for you to crawl to him.

You felt humiliated having to do this but your grade was at stake and you couldn’t allow a slip up, you needed to make sure everyone was aware that you still and forever will be the top student.

As you kneeled before Sunghoon, he tried to suppress the smirk daring to grow on his face. You looked absolutely perfect before him and just like Jake’s words. “I’ll destroy you baby” He softly murmured creasing the side of your face, a sign of endearment instead of the cold stoic felling he was showing you beforehand

As you fondled with his belt and slacks in order to bring them to his mid thigh just enough for you to pull out his heavy cock that leaked with precum at the tip.

You knew what you needed to do as you began softly stroking his cock with your hands. Sunghoon groaned lowly as he watched your hands wrap around his cock before moving up and down dragging out the movements. “Better start working faster than that baby”

You replaced your hands with your mouth as dragged your tongue from the base all the way to his tip’s slit. Sunghoon threw his head back letting a rubble erupt from his chest as you began to leave feather kisses at his tip before opening your mouth to suck him.

As your mouth began to close around him, he closed his eyes forgetting just how wonderful your mouth was to him. “Damnit baby” His breathless pants continued as you bobbed your head up and down trying to find the pace that always set him on the edge

You tried to swallow him whole as you managed to bottom him out, feeling him in the back of your throat. You gagged trying to hold your place there as much as you could before ripping yourself away for air.

You panted heavily with a string of saliva connecting your lips to Sunghoon’s cock and he smirked widely at this. You gulped still trying to catch your breath before connecting your lips back onto his tip as your tongue swirled around, trying to clean him from all the precum.

You looked up to him to see him staring at you as if you were the only person left in the world. You maintained eye contact with him as you sucked, the wet noises filling his office.

Sunghoon’s mind reeled in the feeling of your mouth as he let out breathless grunts and groans as he felt your hands fondling with his aching balls as you continued to suck him for all his worth. As he was getting lost in the sensation his hands instinctively came to the top of your head as he began to buck his hips into your mouth. “You’d let me fuck your pretty mouth won’t you?”

You gagged as his cock slipped deeper into your throat, spit forming at the side of your mouth as you weakly nodded your head and that was all Sunghoon needed to use your throat.

He adjusted himself, feeling how you became pliant in his hands as he bobbed your head and down his length to meet his harsh thrust. You placed your hands on his knees, gagging loudly as tears burned your eyes more as Sunghoon continued to use your mouth for his own pleasure.

“Just like that baby, fuck. You’re so perfect for me” He groaned out, you weren’t able to respond as he continued to use your mouth and you could tell he was already close as his thrust became more frantic chasing his release

After a few more harsh thrust, his seed spilled in your throat and he groaned loudly as he pulled you away to have his cum shoot onto your face and shirt.

When Sunghoon finally came down from his high, he was breathing heavily trying to come back from the high of the mind goggling head you always give him but he saw the sight in front of him.

Your face and shirt stained with his release as you looked to him with doe eyes and he grabbed your jaw forcing you to open to see if you swallowed the little remnants you got before he pulled away.

He stroked your face lovingly as he saw that there was nothing left behind. He scooped the spurts of cum on your face with his finger and bringing it to your mouth. You knew what he wanted and you gave it him as you sucked his finger clean.

Sunghoon brought you up from your knees to bring you into a rough kiss. The kiss was reverent as his hold on you was tight. “Gonna make sure you don’t remember your name, let alone that fuckass partner of yours” Sunghoon gruff out before flipping you over his desk where student’s paper were soon scattered everywhere

Hearing his words made you realized that his behavior stemmed from unnecessary jealousy caused by Jake. You were surprised seeing just how jealous he got and it sent a wave straight down to your aching heat.

Yet, you shirked when the cold air suddenly hit your bare bottom “You soaked right through your panties” Sunghoon’s finger grazed your drenching core “You’re so wet… Just for me right baby?” You lambently nodded your head, losing yourself in the small friction

“All for you” You breathed out and before you realized, Sunghoon was already sinking into you. You gasped loudly at the unexpected intrusion, feeling the familiar stretch of his cock breaking you

“H-hoon!” You whimpered as you tried to get accustomed to the burn but Sunghoon didn’t listen to your pleas as he already began to move in your tight hole

“Sucking me in so good” Sunghoon chuckled as you gripped the ends of his desk feeling your body jolting from his shallow thrust “Hoonie” You strained out a moan but he was quick to send a spank to your ass

“That’s not my name- damnit no matter how many times I split you open you’re still so tight” He let out as he fully sunk in, groaning at how tight you were clenching around him

And without anytime for you catch your breath from the familiar stretch, he was already slipping in and out of you as he was soon finding a fast rhythmic pace that had you seeing stars.

The office filled with your moans and sound of skin slapping, “S-sir please faster” You whined knowing that you shouldn’t have asked for something you couldn’t handle but you were already too beyond any rational thinking

“You wanna get fucked like the slut you are? Is that why you were practically flirting with him? Just to get my attention so that I can bend you over my desk and breed your pussy?” His fingers dug into your hips as he started to pound into you with no remorse, his tip bruising your cervix and you could feel the wind knocked out of you as you became a moaning mess

“Answer me slut” He gave another smack to your ass and you groaned at the stinging sensation, trying to form any sort of coherent words

“Y-yes- Breed me” Your few words only soared Sunghoon’s pride as he wrapped his bicep around your head to press your body against his as you threw your head back, your whines filling his ears

“Cream on my cock baby, just like how you were molded to” The noise in his office were beyond obscene, the wet noises mixing in with the skin on skin and his degrading words made you dizzy

Sunghoon could tell you were close as you were clenching around him tighter and tighter until you came all over his ramming cock. You moaned loudly as he helped you ride out your high but instead of slowing down, he only continued faster.

You tried to claw at his forearms in hopes for him to slow down as you felt your knees giving out on you and if not for him holding you up by his biceps, you would’ve fallen to the ground. You were beyond overstimulated but Sunghoon didn’t care as he continued to chase his own high.

“Fucking slut wanted to get fucked so badly… Had to do anything- S-shit! Just to get my attention” Your mouth stayed opened as all noises fell from it as your mind became hazy from the overstimulation, his relentless thrust and the headlock he had you in

You were too far gone but deep down, you wouldn’t be mad if he decided to fuck you like this every time. “S-sir” You chanted out nonstop

“What was your partner’s name? Tell me” Your body kept moving with his thrust and you could feel yourself losing it, “I asked for his name slut” And you know you shouldn’t have responded, you should’ve acted oblivious but you wanted to add fuel to the blaring fire

“Ja-Ja..k-“ You couldn’t even finish saying Jake’s name as Sunghoon’s headlock tighten around you and somehow his pace only become even more animalistic than what it already was. You held back a scream as you could feel a second wave of your orgasm building up.

“Say his name again and see what the fuck happens” Sunghoon warned before letting you out of his headlock having you body fall forward onto his desk as his hand pressed against your back to keep you there as his freehand had it’s fingers immediately find their way to your swollen clit begging for attention

You squealed as he rubbed your clit before adding tight pinches causing you to only thought of him, Sunghoon, Sir, Hoon, Hoonie, your favorite professor, Mr. Park.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your second orgasm crash over your stimulated body. “Shit baby shit, just… Ahh- a little more. Gonna breed this pussy the way it was meant to”

‘You’ll remember who can only do this to you” Sunghoon started rambling, “I’m the only one that breed your pussy this good” His thrust became sloppy and you could feel his cock twitching inside you.

And when he gave the final harsh thrust, jolting your body forward causing some papers to fall off his desk, you whimpered feeling his hot release spurt into you, painting your velvet wall all white of him.

Sunghoon gave a few more painful thrust to make sure he fucked his cum deep into you before pulling out. You whined feeling suddenly empty without him inside you.

Sunghoon saw how your mixed released dripped down your thigh and he admired the scene. How ruined you were because of him. His finger scooped up the falling cum only to shove it back into your gaping hole, you whimpered at the intrusion of his fingers but he gave pepper kisses on your back.

“Shh it’s okay” He hummed before carefully peeling your body off his desk that was now an even more of a mess

The afterglow you had could be seen from miles away and Sunghoon smiled warmly as he brought your sensitive body toward him to cradle you as he sat in his chair with you on his lap. “You did so good baby, took everything I gave you”

You relished in the praise but it soon creeped back into your mind of why this had happened in the first place. “F-fail?” Was all you could murmur and Sunghoon cooed at you before softly slipping his fingers over your body towards your overstimulated clit

Your body jolted from his fingers as you whined shaking your head, trying to peel his fingers away from your swollen bud not able take anymore but Sunghoon shook his head.

“You can give me another one baby, I know you can” You whimpered as your attempt were futile as his fingers began rubbing over the bud in a painfully slow circular motion “Let me take care of you. Then we can see if you still failed or not”

✎ᝰ。

When you finally made it back home that night after being dropped off by Sunghoon who made sure to give you an extra longer of a kiss at your front door, you landed straight onto your bed, absolutely exhausted from the rounds Sunghoon had put you through.

You always forget how high his stamina is and you know unlocked another level of his stamina by ten folds that only shined when his jealousy was through the roof.

You weakly pulled out your phone to see a message wishing you a goodnight and hope that you sleep well by Sunghoon and you chuckled softly to yourself, making sure to reply to him before going to check your grade for the paired assignment that you were afraid of seeing a failing grade instead of a passing one.

But with the little energy left in your body, you sat up on your bed, immediately smiling seeing the 104 percent left by Mr. Park for the paired assignment with a single comment left by him, ‘Good job’.

Even though it was simple comment, you knew it was only directed to you and not Jake (Sunghoon heavily expressed rather negative opinions about him in the car ride to yours even though Jake did no wrong).

Your heart filled to the brim seeing not only had you received full marks on the assignment, but you also received an extra 4 points just for being such a good student, his favorite student.

✎ᝰ。

Time flew by as it was soon reaching the end of the second half of the semester before going on summer break. And as time was passing, it caused an unsettling unease to rest in your heart. The ‘relationship’ you had established with Sunghoon ever since winter break only continued to blur as you didn’t know what you two even were. You knew the two of you were intimate sexually but you always became confused when it came to romantic aspect of things.

But on Sunghoon’s end he never really used words to begin with, he rather used actions to express what he was feeling for you (even if you were oblivious to them).

You didn’t realize that whenever you would complain to Sunghoon about running out of your favorite chapstick it somehow magically appeared placed at your seat with a sticky note that had written on ‘:)’ or when you felt overwhelmed about some long project that none of your other partners were working on, expecting you to do all the work, which somehow ended up with you receiving full credit while the rest of your partners received nothing.

Sunghoon loved to shower you in his affection of gift giving, ranging from something easy like flowers everyday to the latest tiffany & co. necklace and bracelet set he thought suited you the best. Whatever you could possibly think of having and wanting, he would get it for you in a flash.

But with all of his actions, it was unclear to you where his feelings lied for you.

Even though he would randomly show up at your doorstep just because he missed you and wanted to see to you which always ended up having you and him cuddle in your bed until the next morning as you both rushed to the university after sleeping past the alarms in each other’s arms.

It didn’t mean he cared about you the same way you cared about him. He could easily just be doing all of that to make sure you stick around in which he did a good job because the sheer thought of some else entering the picture and have Sunghoon leave you in the dust always kept you up at night, fear eating you from the inside out.

But your worst nightmare came true as in walked someone else, another rising star student.

She transferred last year from another prestigious university and she was known to be the top student but when she transferred, she was placed in the 5th slot of the top 5 fives students, you still remaining in the 1st slot.

It was impossible of how she didn’t hear about you. She heard praises left and right for you for simply walking by and she was curious. That’s when she realized you were the top 1 student in the entire university. That was when she was determined to achieve the top 1 spot for herself. She began in the year she transferred to bypass all of the top 3 students to secure her spot in the top 2, just below you.

When you finally heard of a rising student and how she bypassed the top 3 students in a short amount of time and was now top 2, you were impressed instead of bothered as the gap between you two was unshakeable.

But you didn’t realized how she was willing to do anything in order to take the number 1 spot from you. It was nothing personal towards you but you were the pride and joy of the university and she was simply wanted the title for herself.

So when she heard she would be sharing a class with you in the beginning of the first term, she was excited to see how both of you would perform in the hardest taught on campus by the strictest teacher Mr. Park.

She’s heard from other students taking the class that it wasn’t easy and barely anyone was able to pass it with the minimum required grade and this piqued her interest seeing how the top 1 student would succumb to the pressure in order to ensure her replacement of your high title.

But she soon realized that she was the one rather falling behind as the marks on her papers kept decreasing slowly but surely. While, you were receiving 100 percents with ease and would even receive extra credit sometimes and she was aggravated by this it.

She completely lost it when she saw the 75 percent on her paper from the paired assignment. When she glanced over to you when you received your paper only to see how you had scored a whopping 104 percent, which she didn’t know was even possible.

People congratulated you (and Jake) for being the highest mark out of the entire student body taking the course. Your wide smile as you accepted the compliments infuriated her, she wanted to wipe that smile right off your face.

And so she decided to attack the root cause, as she found herself in front of the very professor’s office that she couldn’t seem to pass with high remarks. She was hesitant on knocking, never really speaking to her professor during class especially outside of it for anything, choosing to silently struggle. She was worried Mr. Park hadn’t even paid attention to her because he had you taking his course (especially being in the same class as her).

She was living in your shadow and she was growing tired of it. She wanted to be adored by everyone just like how you were and set the curve. And hopefully talking to Mr. Park will help her achieve the little stepping stone she needed in order to determine her victory against you.

She softly knocked before overthinking anymore as she waited for a moment and that’s when she finally heard a faint ‘come in’.

Now any living being would tell you Mr. Park was undeniably attractive that it was actually sickening that someone like him existed and was teaching as a professor. She was no exception, seeing him in white button up, his jacket covering over his body as his infamous clear glasses rested perfectly on his nose bridge set an unspeakable fire in her.

“Hello Mr. Park” Her voice was unknowingly becoming smaller as his harsh gaze met her nervous ones

How you were able to approach him with such ease while everyone else struggled blew her mind but she remembered no one else was receiving 100 plus marks in his class besides you so she quickly diminished that thought.

“Good evening, I don’t believe you’ve set up an appointment or may have I missed it? Let me double check, please sit down” Sunghoon motioned to the seat in front of his desk which she accepted, she couldn’t dare tell him that she didn’t make an appointment to meet with him

She looked around his office to see it neatly done to a T expected from her professor. Her eyes caught sight of a random chair in the corner of his office. She furrowed her eyebrows but Sunghoon’s quickly brought her attention back and away from the chair.

“I don’t seem to have you down for an appointment, if you wish to discuss anything with me. Please make an appointment beforehand with the link provided in your online syllabus” Sunghoon told before brining his attention back to his work in front of him

“W-wait M-Mr. Park. I really need to talk to you, it’s important” Sunghoon stopped and placed the papers down before sighing heavily, he normally doesn’t do this but he was in a good mood since you stopped by during his lunch break just because you wanted to see him so he let it slide this one time

“This will only a one time thing. I do not excuse carelessness, if you wish to speak make an appointment on the provided schedule” Sunghoon told before motioning her to speak and she was dumb founded, all rationality left her mind

Her mind reeled as she spoke the first thing that came to her head, “Do you work out Mr. Park?” She tried to put on her best sultry voice hoping it would achieve what she wanted

Sunghoon furrowed his eyebrows and stared at her, “Excuse me?”

“Seeing the 75 on the paired assignment made me so sad and I-I just wanted to let you know that I’m willing to do anything to change my grade” She pleaded helplessly hoping that he would give into her pleas to have her grade change

He knew he was a hypocrite for his next choice of words but he didn’t need anyone else, especially when he had you. “Please remove yourself my office and I will choose to ignore such requests” Sunghoon sighed realizing what she was trying to insinuate, this wasn’t the first time someone had tried to come to him to give him whatever he ‘wanted’ in exchange to get their grade up

She pouted harshly having been denied and Sunghoon almost showed his grimace at her pout, her pout wasn’t yours. But she wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

She made her way up from the chair and Sunghoon thought she was leaving but what he didn’t expect was her to suddenly turn around and walk over to his side of the desk and drop to her knees in front of him.

He jumped back in his chair as he adjusted himself as he stared at her in shock. “What are you doing?” Sunghoon asked and she looked up to him with an attempt of doe eyes and instead of feeling aroused like she had hoped, he felt sick

He wasn’t going to do anything with anyone else. He already you and he was never going to let that go.

She put her hair into a makeshift ponytail with her hands as she blinked her eyes innocently to him as she silently was offering herself. But Sunghoon looked away from her and motioned for her to stand up “Get up” Sunghoon’s authoritative tone made her weak in her knees and she thought that he was finally caving in to her

Yet, right when she was going to stand she heard a faint knock at his office door and Sunghoon immediately recognized that knock as yours. His heart rate jumped, he took a glance towards the clock to see that you were right on time for your ‘debriefings’ and he knew this scene looked completely wrong and he couldn’t possibly have you get any wrong idea.

But Sunghoon whipped his head when she saw her shuffling under his desk and he shook his head violently as she brought a finger to her lips to shush him but he wasn’t having any of it. “I am not going to repeat myself, get up” He warned which caused her let out a loud huff which didn’t go unnoticed by you on the other side of the door,

When she was going to place the faintest kiss on his knee through his pants, he jerked his leg away before she could do so. She sadly pouted before getting up from her previous position. She had mischievous smirk on her face, believing she had won in some type of way.

She grabbed her bag from the chair as she went over to the door and right before opening it, she send a playful wink towards her professor. “Thank you again Mr. Park” She spoke as opening the door and there she saw you standing innocent and oblivious to what was happening his Sunghoon’s office

Your eyes widen in shock seeing her leave Sunghoon’s office, you never once saw her here before let alone even speak to him during class.

Her smirk grew wider seeing you before holding her head high, discreetly wiping her lips with her fingers before happily greeting you.

“Oh? What you doing here?” She innocent raised an eyebrow almost as if mocking you

“Letter recommendation” You curtly responded which was a lie, you were here for the ‘debriefings’ you and Sunghoon always had but you don’t remember him telling you that he was going to be occupied beforehand

She smiled not saying anything else as she walked past you without a goodbye. You could feel and hear the silent screams she was giving you as she left you which all lead from the very startled professor that was now in front of you at the door.

You took in his appearance, he still looked like his formal self. Still neatly dressed from head to toe, his hair still intact but that didn’t ease the unsettling pain in your chest.

“How can I help you?” Sunghoon made room for you to enter his office, trying everything in his power to remain professional

You stopped your quivering lips as you shook your head, “Nothing, I thought I needed something but I don’t need it anymore” You emptily told before turning your heel and walking away from your professor

Sunghoon was stunned as this was the first time you never stayed for the debriefings and he could feel his heart squeeze as it settled in his mind everything was far from okay. His hands turned into fist in order to prevent himself from chasing after you, not caring who would see but he needed to remind himself that he was not your boyfriend. He was just your professor, someone that you were seeing that was hopelessly head over heels for you.

✎ᝰ。

Now he expected for it to be a simple misunderstanding that he could clear up with a few messages and going over to yours. But every time he tried to even reach you, you dodged him like a plague and acted like he didn’t even exist. The daily talks and messages became shorter and shorter until you were leaving him on delivered for hours on end only to see his message and not even respond.

You stopped coming for ‘debriefings’ all together and it was if nothing had ever happened between the two of you and he was slowly losing himself the more time he went without you. He knew you ways he shouldn’t but he did, neither you or him could ever forget that no matter how hard you tried.

What starting driving him to insanity were times where he saw you leaving his class without a glance towards him a the old lingering gaze shared was long forgotten as it was replaced with you staring at Jake as you laughed and smiled at something he told you.

And he knew it was highly unprofessional of him to even think this but Sunghoon felt the urge every time to throw a punch at Jake anytime he saw you two together.

Sunghoon’s biggest fear was coming true, you leaving him when he was already in too deep. He knew he had to act quickly before it was too late and he lost the only thing that mattered in his life. He needed to bring you back to him.

✎ᝰ。

It was the last day of the semester right before summer break and after finishing all finals (with the highest mark as always) and completing the finals assignments needed to ensure to leave the two terms with ease and remaining in your spot as the top student in the university.

You haven’t spoken much to Sunghoon during the past few leading up till this day. You knew it was rather childish on your part but something in your head told you that Sunghoon no longer needed you as he was seeming to be fulfilled by someone else that wasn’t you(even though he never forgot about you once, always making sure to send messages to you every morning and night just in case one day you decide to finally answer him).

As you and Jake were leaving Sunghoon’s last lecture, he was starting to ask you something, “So I was wondering if you would-“ but he was interrupted by the call of your name from Sunghoon who motioned for you to stay behind.

You were going to ignore him but your body had a mind of its own as you bid goodbye to Jake easily before discreetly taking a gulp as you hadn’t spoken properly to him and he was finally taking initiative in person.

‘I-I’ll wait for you outside!” Jake told and you gave a quick wave back before making your way over to Sunghoon’s desk and when it was finally just the two of you, Sunghoon’s dark chuckle rippled throughout the empty lecture hall

“Meet me in my office at the usual time” But before you could muster any type of response to avoid him, he motioned for you to stop, “I said meet me in my office, that is final” You should’ve said no but you were weak for him as sighed in defeated before muttered under your breath

“Why don’t you ask her to meet you in your office…” Sunghoon heard your muttered and his eyebrows furrowed and his lips twitched

“Because I need you in my office” Sunghoon told before lowering his voice to make sure you could only hear him, “Now be a good girl and listen” His voice sent shivers up your spine and you frowned before muttering a small ‘whatever’ before walking away

He smirked, pleased with your reaction as he was realizing you were jealousy, a possessive jealousy you had over him laid in his heart nicely.

✎ᝰ。

You softly knocked on Sunghoon’s office door as you always used do and your expected hearing his usual ‘come in’. But you were surprised to see him see opening the door for you.

You stared at him in shock as he moved to make room for you to come in. You gulped and awkwardly stepped in as it finally sunk into your mind of how long it has been since you were last in Sunghoon’s office, let alone in his presence in uh a close proximity.

But your mind filled with a distraught thought of what you thought to have happened between Sunghoon and the girl during the time that you and Sunghoon weren’t personally seeing each other outside of his lectures.

You wanted to light the whole office on fire to destroy any residue that the girl could’ve possible left behind. You hated that she was inside such a sacred place to you and what you thought was for Sunghoon too.

“Why did you want to meet with me?” You were in no mood to mess around and quickly wanted to get whatever he wanted done and over with

You saw how Sunghoon closed the door and easily locked the door and you knew you were in for it. “I’ve missed you as simple as that” He truthfully told before taking strides towards you, “How come my baby has been ignoring me?“ Sunghoon brought down the cold demeanor he shows everyone besides you, only you were the only one to ever see this side, the down right bad side of Sunghoon for you

You closed your eyes and shifted your head not wanting his words to work on you. But when you felt Sunghoon’s frame from behind goosebumps filled your body as his breath fanned over the shell of your ear with his hands finding their way to your waist. “Well? Why have you been ignoring me?”

You shivered as his words cut through you and you bit your lip to prevent yourself from speaking but the way Sunghoon’s hands carefully ran up the side of your body, his breath filling your ears, you could feel yourself melting.

“You were with her, didn’t think you wanted me anymore” When Sunghoon heard your response he stopped the running of his hands and let out a scoff, how could you have possibly think that?

“Baby you’re all I ever want. I was never with her in the first place nor would I ever even think about having someone else when I have you” Sunghoon’s voice rippled in your head as you tried to finally understand what he’s been telling you from the start

“But she was in your office” You mumbled, “She wiped her lips in front of me like a mockery. She was setting her claim on you” You huffed out feeling the anger rise in you, remembering the moment that has been haunting you nonstop

“But you already made your claim on me”

“I can only hold one and I choose to hold yours” Sunghoon turned your body to fully face him and he saw how your eyes refused to meet his causing him to smile, he lifted your head up by your chin, “Baby I’m forever yours”

You finally looked to meet his eyes and you could see nothing but sincerity in them and you could feel the warmth melt into you. “You promise?” You murmured and he nodded his head

“I promise my whole life on it” You finally allowed yourself to indulge in the very thing you’ve been longing for ever since you deprived yourself of it, you grabbed his nape before bringing his lips to crash onto yours. All tension and unease melted away in the kiss and Sunghoon engulfed you in his arms as he held your body close to his

Your and his lips worked in synchronization like they were made for each other, Sunghoon tried to pour all of emotions into that kiss as it was soon growing sloppier by the minute. “What about Jake? Always saw him with you, I was losing my mind seeing the way you were smiling at him” He gasped in the kiss before moving to plant kisses onto your cheek and neck, you hummed feeling the sensation as you shook your head

“He’s just a friend, a mere distraction from you” You responded and you could feel the way Sunghoon’s grip tightened around you before chuckling against your skin

“A friend now huh? What else happened when you weren’t talking to me?” He asked, detaching himself from you to hold your hips in his hands, you could see the familiar glint in his eyes as he stared at you like a starved man

He brought his lips to whisper in your ear, “You let him fuck your used up pussy?” The degrading words made you clench around nothing and Sunghoon could feel the way you knees slightly buckled at his words

“I got you baby don’t worry” He assured you before attaching his mouth back onto your lips before sucking on your sweet spot causing you hands to tangle in his hair

“Never” You let out a breathless moan as you could feel how he nibbled on your sweet spot before soothing it by running his tongue over it

“Good girl” He gently guided your body to have your back pressed against his desk as his breath fanning yours as he rested his forehead on yours, “I missed you so much, you don’t even understand how much I did” Sunghoon tenderly held you as he softly recaptured your lips with his

You wrapped your arms around his neck as his hands rested on your hips, “Missed you too, so much” You spoke in the kiss causing your teeth to clash together as the kiss became desperate

Sunghoon broke away from the kiss to let himself softly play with the top of your pants, “Let me take care of you baby, need to show you just how important you are to me” You nodded your head with need, letting Sunghoon bring your pants and panties down all in one shot before guiding you to sit on his desk, discarding everything on it

When he caught sight of your glistening of your lips, he almost let out a groan before allowing his fingers to spread your lips apart, “So wet for me”

“H-hoonie” The nickname that was only reserved for you to use fell from your mouth as a moan

“Gonna show you that you’re all I ever need” Sunghoon told before looking into your eyes and letting his finger slipped past your slick and into you, you gasped and threw your head down.

“Always ready for whatever I give you. You’re such a good girl” He kissed the side of your face ad he pumped his finger slowly in and out of you

You whimpered as his finger alone sent you to heights that you never reached by yourself. “You’re being so good for me, you’re the best of the best. No one ever comes close to you” Sunghoon’s praises sent your heart afloat

Sunghoon slipped another finger into you and you could feel the stretch growing as you gripped his forearm, gasping loudly as he continued to move his fingers in and out of you seeing how you coated them beautifully.

He laid your body down on his desk, as he admired how finger disappeared in your hole in need. You let your head fall back onto the desk but you immediately shot your head up when you felt the contact of Sunghoon’s tongue on your clit.

Your hands unconsciously gripped on his hair as his fingers pumped out of you as his tongue flicked over your clit before giving kisses onto it. Your moans began to loudly fill the room

“Hoonie, Hoonie, Hoonie!” You chanted his name like a prayer as he continued to bring you only what he could make you feel, a wave of pleasure washed over you as you came, forcing Sunghoon’s fingers out of you as they were covered with your release

You panted heavily trying to come back from your high and Sunghoon adored the scene in front of him. He removed his glasses to softly place them onto your panting self. When you opened your eyes in confusion, you saw how he looked at you in pure awe. You looked so beautiful in his glasses, that he made a mental note to buy you a matching pair with his.

However, you couldn’t even ask him because your body jolted when Sunghoon’s mouth came to contact with your needy self as he moaned, tasting you your sweet venom that he could get lost in.

“The sweetest thing to ever exist” He blabbed against you as he sucked harshly and letting his tongue tease your gaping hole

Your hands found their way back into his hair as he sensually ate you out to savor you. The slurps were obscene on the ears but it felt like a paradise. Sunghoon placed your legs over his shoulders in order to burry his mouth deeper in you, as he kept lapping at your pussy.

His nose finally grazing your clit without his glasses interfering and the familiar build up in your stomach soon began to rise again.

He noticed how your hole clenched around his tongue and he smirked as he gripped onto your thighs to continue to eat you like a starved man. “Cum on my tongue baby” His soft voice of encouragement made you whine as you kept letting out breathless chants of his name

His nose continued to rub over your clit and he could tell you were getting closer as your hold on his hair tightened painfully but he didn’t mind.

You felt your second orgasm shoot through you and Sunghoon hummed happily as he continued to place kisses and licks across your soaked core as you rode out your high.

When he finally disconnected from you, a string of saliva connected from his lips to you caused him to give a foolish smile at the sight. You panted heavily unable to open your eyes from the amount of pleasure you were in, as your head was against the desk but you could feel it being raised by Sunghoon.

You lazily opened your eyes to see how from his nose down, he was completely covered in you. Sunghoon rose to his feet and lifted your weak body from the desk up and brought his covered lips onto you.

You could taste yourself on him and you slightly grimaced but Sunghoon’s hand prevented you from pulling away.

“You taste how good and sweet you are? I could get lost in you forever” Sunghoon spoke as you desperately kissed him back

The kiss lasted longer than what either of you had intended but it was able to showcase the hidden feelings that you were too afraid to admit.

You were the first to pull away as he chased after your lips causing you to chuckle softly before stopping him. He opened his eyes to look directly at you and you felt the harsh flutter in your chest.

“The prettiest girl to ever grace the earth” He honestly told and your cheeks flushed wildly at his words he planted a soft kiss against them

He unbuckled his belt to bring his pants down mid-thigh, just enough to have his cock spring out after being held in the confinement of his pants for so long.

Sunghoon carefully spread your legs apart for him and your pussy shined with your arousal and release as he noticed your hole clenched around nothing, begging to be filled.

He slotted himself between your legs as he smothered his tip leaking over yourself and you gasped feeling him and your mind became dizzy from the taste of his tip alone, “I’m going to take care of you, let me do all the work baby”

His cock lined up with your entrance as he teased the tip against your gaping hole to adjust you to his size and he noticed are you were desperately trying to sink him more into you, which caused him to pull back. “Come on baby, be the good girl you are and wait”

You bit back your lip to hold back your whimper but your mouth dropped feeling Sunghoon fill you in one deep thrust.

He groaned feeling your tightness even after he prepped you, “How is it that you’re always so tight?”

“B-Big” You let out in a breath and no matter how many times you tell him that, his ego will always skyrocket from it

“I know baby but you always take everything I give you. You can handle it” Sunghoon soothed you by rubbing your thigh, letting you get adjusted to his size

As your heavy breathing subsided and you gave a weak nod as his sign that he could move, he made sure to start off slowly and drag him in and out of you.

His deep thrust was calculated to be slow and sensual as he wanted you to have it engraved in your mind that you were the only one for him.

With his deep thrust he was able to hit your sweet spot every time and you were falling apart on his cock. He noticed the daze he was putting you in as he captured your lips.

The kiss was able to speak louder than any words ever spoken between the two of you. Sunghoon thrusts in you kept repeating in the same pace and you were softly whining against his lips.

“You’re absolutely perfect” He pulled away from you place his head against the crook of your neck, his pace slowly picking up but he made sure to hit your cervix every time

“H-Ho-Hoon” You let out a broken breath but Sunghoon whispered your ear that caused your heart to quicken in its beats

“Say my name. My actual name”

“Sunghoon”

The way you breathlessly called out his name, set fireworks off in his heart. The two of you knew this simple interaction was far too intimate for just professor and student who go on dates, kiss each other senseless, lay in each others arms talking about nonsense until late in the night, and simply two people who will always get lost in each other.

“I love you” From your hazy daze, you felt a bucket of cold water splash over you as your eyes popped open hearing Sunghoon’s confession, it was the three words neither of you dared to say but seemed to mutually share

Sunghoon’s thrust continued and the twitch inside of you made your clam down on him. “Come with me baby” His words were all you both needed as you both came together

His cum shooting deep inside you, as you coated his cock with your release. Your pleasures mixing together as it forced a white ring at the base of his cock. You whimpered as his slow thrust came to a stop as he stayed inside of you.

Both you and Sunghoon coming down from your high together as your sweat covered foreheads rested against each other as the two of you panted heavily before looking into each other’s eyes.

“My beautiful girl” The pure endearment of his words filled your already swollen heart

Sunghoon noticed even though it was faint, the moment of unease in your ease caused him to look at you with confusion. Your gaze avoided his as your mind filled with only one thought. What was now going to happen between you and him now that summer break was starting.

Will you continue to see each other after the moment shared or will the two of your take your words for granted and lose each other in the process?

“What are you thinking about baby?” He softly asked as you pulled away from your forehand to look at you as you still refused to look at him

“Look at me” He softly turned your head to face him properly as he noticed your glassy eyes, he felt his heart shatter at the scene before brining your body close to him.

He carefully creased his hand over your aching body as he remained still inside you and you shivered feeling the slightest movements inside of you. The two of you stayed in silence as he silently comforted you.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” He softly murmured as he could feel your mixed released trialing down your thigh that laid with his, you only nodded your head not trusting your voice to not break if you spoke

Sunghoon smiled daringly before carefully easing himself out of you and right when he did, more of the released gushed out of you. He chuckled at the scene before rubbing your thigh. “We made a mess” He joked causing you to finally let out a soft chuckle

As he grabbed tissues, he began to guide them over to clean you up, making sure to not miss a spot. And when his fingers rubbed over your sensitive self, you shivered as he whispered soft apologies placing butterfly kisses on it to help ease the overstimulation.

When you were all cleaned up, he grabbed your discarded panties and pants and your body too far sore and exhausted caused him to carefully guide them back onto you.

He quickly placed himself back in his pants and buckled his belt, allowing you to fully catch your breath without him crowding you.

When he noticed the daze look finally fading from your eyes, he carefully sat you upright before going to sit on his side of the desk. You turned your head confused to him but you let out a yelp when he brought you off his desk onto his lap.

He looked to you on his lap, creasing your face with such delicacy.

He pulled away to rummage through the first drawer of his desk until he finally found what he looking for. You could see the slight hesitate as his hands remained in his drawer, his eyes focused on the ticking clock in his office before finally pulling out an envelope.

You looked at him confused as he handed the envelope to you, ushering for you to open it. When you carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the paper in it, your hand almost dropped it in pure shock.

You read over the paper nonstop as you couldn’t believe what you were reading.

“Come to Italy with me” Your gaze moved from the bought plane tickets to Sunghoon who only stared at you with hopeful eyes

“I’m no longer your professor” Sunghoon motioned to the clock he was staring at before giving you the envelope that showed the time, 5pm, the university was officially closed for summer break.

“I meant it when I said I love you”

“And I finally want to properly be yours and make you mine” Sunghoon confessed the weight that laid on his heart as it finally lifted, he knew his feelings were risky, he was still a professor and you were still a student at the university just no longer each other’s as summer break started

Sunghoon knew he could likely get fired for this but if he had to choose between his job or you.

He would always choose you in a heartbeat. “Let’s spend our summer vacation in Italy together baby” You chuckled out a bright smile before hastily wrapping your arms around him nodding your head eagerly

“Yes, of course!” You agreed to his planned trip and Sunghoon held you tightly in return, pleased to know that he can finally properly make you his without a single worry

“Sunghoon” He hummed when he heard you faintly called out his name, “I love you too”

✎ᝰ。

: I actually can’t believe you’re in Italy right now when you told me, your friend btw in case you forgot, that we were going to spend summer break rotting away together

: But instead, you’re soft launching your boyfriend that I didn’t even know existed until now, with his arm all wrapped around you as you show off the new tiffany & co. bracelet he got you

: I hope you know I am not forgiving you until you tell me who your mystery boyfriend is so you better fess up soon

You: :)

——

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen sunghoon #sunghoon smut #sunghoon x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen fics #sunghoon x reader smut #kpop smut

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ladyfocalors · 3 months ago

Text

The Prefect's Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Rulebook

summary: After yet another rule violation by Grim, Riddle hands you a comprehensive guide to Heartslabyul’s regulations expecting you to finally learn and teach Grim. Instead, you retaliate by writing your own unofficial rulebook about Riddle himself, filled with exaggerated (but surprisingly accurate) observations. He inevitably gets his hands on the book. Riddle is left flustered and scandalized, especially with the last rule.

pairing: riddle rosehearts x gn!reader

warning: secondhand embarrassment experience.

word count: 2.4k

i had so much fun writing this. probably one of my favourite fics i have written. it's fun to write about my beloved riddle <3

It all started with a tart. Or rather, the lack of one.

You and Grim stood in the lounge, both of you equal parts guilty and unapologetic. Well, you were mostly guilty by association, considering it was Grim who had eaten one of Trey’s tarts without permission, but in Riddle’s eyes, you were both responsible.

"Grim," you sighed, standing before Riddle Rosehearts with his face red, arms crossed, eyes burning with irritation. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Grim, hiding behind you, peeked out from behind your legs, ears twitching. "I regret nothing," he declared. "That tart was mine!"

"It most certainly was not!" Riddle snapped, his voice sharp. "That was my tart, specifically prepared for me. And not only did you eat it, but you also violated Rule #89 ‘Never eat a tart without the Queen's permission’, and Rule #27 ‘Do not break into the dormitory kitchens after hours’ and Rule #53–"

Grim huffed. "Ya make it sound worse than it is."

"You ate the Housewarden’s tart in front of him and ran to me," you muttered, reminding him of his crime. You were surprised that Grim hadn't been collared yet.

"A mistake anyone could make," Grim said stubbornly.

"A mistake that you made," you deadpanned.

Riddle inhaled deeply, clearly exercising a lot of restraint to not collar Grim. Then, he presented you with a book, quite a massive book.

"This," he declared, "is the Heartslabyul Rulebook."

You took it, nearly dropping it due to its weight. No dorm rulebook should be this heavy, you thought. "This thing could kill a man."

Grim peeked at it over your shoulder and immediately recoiled. "Ugh! Words! Too many words!"

"That is exactly the issue," Riddle snapped at him. "You do not read the rules, and as a result, you break them." Riddle then turned to you, his face no longer red. "As the Ramshackle Prefect, I expect you to look after your dorm members. Therefore, I expect you to read this book in its entirety and teach Grim to behave himself in my dorm."

You blinked at him. This seemed hardly fair. Why did you have to be punished?

You opened the book to have a look.

Rule #1: Always respect the Queen’s Decrees.

You promptly closed it.

"Yeah, I’m not doing that," you said.

Riddle frowned.

At first, you did try to read the rulebook, but between all your other work, assignments, and the endless errands you had to run, it simply wasn’t feasible. Not to mention how utterly ridiculous some of the rules were.

So instead of reading his rulebook, you wrote your own. For fun.

Grim was pleased with the outcome.

It had started as a joke, something to vent your many grievances about the amount of rules in Heartslabyul, but you quickly realized something: your rulebook wasn’t about Heartslabyul.

It was about Riddle, which Grim had helpfully pointed out.

"Myahaha! Look at this one! ‘Rule #23 – Riddle can and will recite the rules you broke.’ That one's good! Let me add some too!"

And so, The Prefect’s Unofficial Guide to Riddle Rosehearts was born.

The Prefect’s Unofficial Guide to Riddle Rosehearts

(Compiled by the Ramshackle Prefect, with essential additions and doodles from Grim. Rules may be ignored at your own risk. Side effects include but are not limited to: exasperation, lectures, punishments, and possible collaring.)

Rule #1 – Anything is legal when Riddle has his back turned. (Grim wrote this.)

Rule #2 – Riddle will scold you for running in the halls, even if you are running to avoid being late for a meeting with him. (It was a no-win situation. You’d be scolded for being late or scolded for running. There was no escape.)

Rule #3 – Riddle has a ‘stern nod’ and a ‘very stern nod.’ Learn to tell the difference. (One means ‘I am disappointed in you.’ The other means ‘You will be collared in five seconds.’)

Rule #5 – If Riddle goes silent mid-sentence, he is either (a) so angry he can’t speak, or (b) realizing you have a point but refuses to admit it.

Rule #12 – If you see Trey baking tarts, congratulations! You are in the presence of Heartslabyul’s unofficial MVP. Do not let Riddle (or anyone) see you sneaking one.

Rule #18 – If you notice Riddle's face is turning red, you have exactly three seconds to mentally prepare for whatever comes next.

Rule #23 – Riddle can and will recite the rules you broke.

Rule #28 – If you compliment Riddle out of nowhere, he will malfunction like a broken automaton. (Highly effective distraction technique.)

Rule #31 – If Ace says, 'Housewarden Riddle will never know,' Housewarden Riddle will absolutely find out.

Bonus Section:

Rule #31.1 – If Ace says, 'I have a great idea,' walk away. It is neither 'great' nor 'an idea.'

Rule #31.2 – If you try to hide something from Ace, he will immediately become interested.

Rule #34 – Riddle pretends not to have a sense of humour, but he does. (It’s just deeply buried under layers of responsibility and rule enforcement.)

Rule #38 – Trey has a 70% success rate of calming Riddle down. (Cater has a 50% success rate. Ace and Deuce have a -500% success rate.)

Rule #41 – Riddle secretly likes animals, but will deny this if accused. (He takes good care of the hedgehogs and adores them.)

Rule #53 – If Riddle ever finds out I like him, I am done for.

You weren’t sure why you wrote that last one. It was a joke. Mostly. (It felt easier to admit on paper rather than to say it. It was most definitely not a joke.)

The rulebook remained a harmless source of entertainment between you and Grim. You had your fun, and Grim even doodled in a few pictures of angry Riddle before resorting to drawing himself.

It should have remained a private joke. It really should have. But, of course, nothing involving Grim remained a secret for long.

It was another ordinary evening in Heartslabyul, where you had reluctantly agreed to a study session with Ace and Deuce. The plan was simple: Ace and Deuce would attempt to get their grades up, you would try to prevent them from slacking while trying to study as well, and Grim would… probably not study.

Riddle had allowed you all to use one of the study rooms, though not without a warning about ‘proper conduct.’

You had meant to be careful, really. You had every intention of keeping your very unofficial, very embarrassing rulebook far away from prying eyes. You just hoped nobody looked through your stack of books, among which laid your rulebook you had accidentally brought. Unfortunately, for you, Grim had other plans.

Grim huffed, then pawed through the stack of books on the table. "There’s too many words in here! I wanna read something fun."

"You’ll think studying is fun when you see your test scores improve," Deuce said, diligently copying notes and actually putting in an effort.

"Nyah! Where’s our rulebook? I wanna add another one about Riddle’s scary angry face!"

You immediately froze and, like a shark smelling blood in water, Ace perked up.

"Rulebook?" he echoed. "Wait, wait, wait. Is it another one of Riddle’s? Man, you’re actually reading that thing?"

Deuce actually looked impressed. "That’s really responsible of you, Prefect."

"It’s not the Heartslabyul Rulebook," Grim piped up, completely missing the way you were silently willing him to stop talking. "It’s hench-human’s rulebook! The one ‘bout Riddle!"

A beat of silence.

Then, with alarming speed, Ace lunged for your stack of books before you could even stop him. (Rule #31.2 was being displayed right in front of you.)

"HEY–"

"Hold on, hold on," Ace said, flipping the thin book open. "This is– ooohhh. You wrote an entire guide to our Housewarden? With rules?" He barked out a laugh. "Rule #1: Anything is legal when Riddle has his back turned."

You snatched for the book, but Ace twisted out of reach.

"It was a joke! Give it back!"

Deuce, peeking over Ace’s shoulder, frowned. "I don’t know if this is a good idea–"

"‘Rule #31: If Ace says, Housewarden Riddle will never know, Housewarden Riddle will absolutely find out.’" Ace read. "Hey, what the hell! That’s slander!"

"It’s true!" you snapped.

Ace ignored you, flipping further. "‘Rule #38: Trey has a 70% success rate of calming Riddle down. Cater has a 50% success rate. Ace and Deuce have a -500% success rate.’"

Deuce looked offended. "Hey, why is mine also negative?"

Ace grinned. "Because you’re the one who keeps making it worse by apologizing wrong and getting us caught."

"I– wait. I do not!"

"Stop arguing and give it back–"

"Prefect, Ace, Deuce," came the voice of Riddle Rosehearts from the now open door.

A terrible, horrible, no good, very bad silence followed.

The three of you went completely still, and Grim decided he would hide behind you.

This was the worst possible outcome ever. In Ace's hand was your silly book, in plain sight, and there stood Riddle in the doorway with his brows furrowed. Riddle’s eyes flicked to the book in Ace’s hands. Ace immediately noticed and hid it behind his back, but it was far too late.

"Ace," Riddle said, stepping forward. "What are you hiding?"

"Uh… nothing?" Ace tried, clearly lying.

"Nothing," Riddle repeated flatly. His gaze sharpened. "Ace Trappola, hand it over. Now."

Ace, being Ace, grinned as if he could still salvage the situation. "C’mon, Housewarden. Maybe this is one of those things you're better off not seeing–"

"If you don't hand me the book, it's off with your head!"

Ace immediately caved, sighing. "Alright, alright. Here." He handed over the book, and you had never felt such levels of anxiety in your life. Not even facing overblots made you feel the level of panic you felt now (that was an exaggeration but, still).

Riddle took it, immediately glancing at the cover. Then he flipped open the first page. Then the second. Then the third.

You watched, frozen in place, as Riddle continued reading, his expression shifting between scandalized and exasperated.

Then he was at the last page. You could tell the exact moment he read the 53rd Rule. His face went from normal to red in an instant.

Oh no.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment and then opened to meet Riddle's blue-gray ones.

“I see,” Riddle said, his voice carefully even but his face red. "Is this true?"

You considered your options.

Lie. (Too late, he’s already read it.)

Run. (Where? He knows where you live.)

Pray. (The Great Seven can’t save you now.)

You picked option 4. Deflection.

"You were not supposed to read it," you said, your voice steadier than you felt.

"So I gathered," he muttered. He looked at you then glanced at the audience.

"Ace, Deuce and Grim," he said. "I expect a 2000 worded essay about the need of study ettiquette and rules."

Ace groaned. "Aw, c’mon, Housewarden–"

"2500 words," Riddle amended, not even hesitating.

Deuce sighed but nodded, already resigned to his fate. Grim, however, let out a dramatic wail. "But I didn't even do anything!"

"Then you may explain, in 2500 words, why you are a menace to the dorms."

Grim gasped. "Wha– ME?!"

"Now leave," Riddle said, and Ace wasted no time grabbing Grim and Deuce by the collars, dragging them toward the door.

"Good luck, Prefect," Ace called, grinning like a traitor before the door shut behind them.

And then, silence.

You were alone with Riddle. You could hear the pages of the rulebook crinkling slightly under his grip. He wasn’t saying anything. Oh no.

Riddle took a deep breath, and exhaled. His face was still tinged red, and you had no idea if that was a good sign or if you were about to be executed on the spot.

"Why," he finally said, "did you write this?"

You hesitated, rubbing the back of your neck. "It was just a joke. Grim and I wrote it for fun."

"Fun," Riddle echoed, a slight twitch in his brow. "So, you thought it would be fun to create an entire guide about me?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds weird."

"It is weird!"

You winced. Was it Rule #18 red or Rule #5 red? Either way, this was not looking good for you.

(Back in your world, you used to laugh when your friends talked about the embarrassing things they did and noticed about their crushes. You thought it was ridiculous. Now the tables have turned and you feel like you want to throw up.)

"Look," you said, shifting uncomfortably, "I didn’t mean for you to see it. I mean, it’s not like you don’t do all those things–"

Riddle inhaled sharply. "That’s not the point!"

There was another terrible pause. You could feel your soul slowly trying to escape your body.

Then, he huffed, closing the book with a thunk against his palm. "So," he said, eyes locking onto you, "Rule number 53."

Your stomach flipped in a very bad way.

"That one was a joke," you blurted out.

He raised an eyebrow. "Was it?"

You swallowed. "Mostly?"

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Mostly," he repeated. He tapped his fingers against the book, thoughtful. "I find it strange, Prefect. You wrote a rather detailed guide about me, yet you conveniently included that rule."

You remain silent.

"I am asking again. Is it true?"

You opened your mouth. Shut it. Opened it again.

"...Yes."

Riddle stared at the floor. His fingers curled slightly. You silently braced yourself for the rejection. All you had to do was not cry and act as level headed as you could.

Then, after a long pause, he muttered, "I think I should make my own rulebook."

You blinked. "Huh?"

He looked up, red-faced, but determined.

"Rule #1 : If the Prefect likes me, they are not done for."

You felt your face burn. Embarrassment rising up again.

"Rule #2," he continued, flustered, "If the Prefect insists on writing about me, they should expect me to read it and respond accordingly."

You could feel yourself sweat. "Riddle–"

"And Rule #3–"

He hesitated, then turned away, mumbling, "...They should expect me to like them back."

Your heart soared and you almost cried in relief.

Riddle sighed, covering his face. "This is the worst rulebook ever."

But there was a small, shy smile peeking through his embarrassment.

#[𓇼] The Steambird's latest #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #riddle rosehearts x reader

1K notes · View notes

miedei · 4 months ago

Text

so many hills to die on

a case has you re-evaluating your tenuous relationship with spencer, coming to a head when the unsub triggers a confrontation.

cw: fem!reader, soulmate!au, angst/fluff, lighttt miscommunication trope, canon level violence and gore, descriptions of being bound and kidnapped, descriptions of stalking behaviour

a/n: this is probably my most ambitious fic ever, has been in my drafts for sooo long but I rallied and wrote it finally! merged these two requests about a soulmate au from this prompt list, and I definitely went overboard with the concept. title is from $20 by boygenius (lol), unsub name and picture of spencer from loml @siriuslylantsov

prompt: b...ody art (doodles that a person draws on themselves appear on their soulmate’s skin).

wc: 11.3k (holy shit)

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Spencer Reid could say a lot about the phenomenon of transcorpal connections. The incidence of a level of mental connection between two individuals that manifests itself in the melanocytes in a person’s epidermal layer to reflect the markings that another person has exacted upon themselves.

Or, if Prentiss forced him to speak ‘like you’re a human 27-year-old, please’, it was the instance of two supposed ‘soulmates’ where drawings or tattoos on one person’s skin are reflected on the others.

Soulmates weren’t something Spencer took much stock in, to be honest.

A fated partner that some amorphous being has assigned him is not something he really believes in, not just as Dr. Reid, man of science, but also as Spencer, the guy who’s had to watch every loving relationship he’d ever seen end.

He’d seen his parents fall out of love, the little messages his father would write for his mother always there, until one day he’d seen his father write a to-do list on his forearm, the words never arising on his mother’s skin. He’d had whatever that was with Ethan, where he’d desperately hoped that his incoherent scribbles would eventually pop up on his friend-not-boyfriend’s arm, but never did. He’d seen Hotch, the last ‘Jack misses you’ message that Haley had written him still on his upper arm, no matter how long it had been.

The connections between people’s skin wasn’t anything he aspired to, not anymore. He could rattle off facts and musings about the instances of ‘soulmate connections’ in history for hours, but it held no more significance for him than it did as a profiling tool.

Hence, Spencer never really held out for anything to show up on his skin, not until it did.

You had spent years with your body, the parts of it you saw on the daily, and the parts you preferred to avoid in the mirror. The expanses of skin, littered with marks and scars from years of living, are familiar to you. Too familiar.

You’d spent years watching your friends, acquaintances, and even strangers' skin change. Like the first time, in secondary school, whenever you saw lines begin to form on a friend's hand, it always filled you with a strange sense of melancholy.

Of course, people lived whole, fulfilling lives without ever having a soulmate connection, and you’re sure your life wouldn’t be any different, but there was always that little thought in the back of your mind, every sighting of a couple on the street adding feathers to its wings.

What if. What if all that skin finally changes? What if you’ll finally experience the life-shattering love that soulmates are supposed to be?

You had always been holding out for something to show up on your skin, but it wasn’t until you’d least expected it.

Being the newest profiler in the famed BAU was more than daunting. It was terrifying, like hyper-aware-of-every-bone-in-your-body terrifying. Your transfer from Domestic Trafficking had been a long time coming, your experience in psychology and previous work under David Rossi making you the ideal candidate for the spot. You knew all of that, but somehow it didn’t dampen the nerves that coursed through your body every time you walked into the bullpen.

It’s your third case as an official agent on the team, and your fear of messing up the biggest leap in your career hasn’t waned. In a lull in the briefing that Hotch gives on the jet, you refer to the case file, questioning the tiny Garcia shown on the screen set on the surface in front of you.

“And this witness who wasn’t present? What’s that about?” You point to a name noted on the case file, which has very little information listed next to it.

“Yes, my love, that is a little strange.” Garcia’s slightly tinny voice floats through the interior of the cabin.

“She is a Mrs Amaya Walker, not technically a witness, seeing as, you know, she lives and works two hours away from the crimes, but there is a pickle.” As she speaks, Spencer slides into the seat across from you, and you flash him a quick smile as he slides a mug of coffee over the table to you.

“Our lovely Mrs Walker here saw a list pop up on her forearm, right when the last murder happened. Initially she didn’t think it was anything, but later she saw the press conference that the local P.D. did after the second murder-”

“Against my advice, by the way!” JJ pipes up from her spot on the sofa.

“Yes, against JJ’s advice, but once she saw it, she thought her little list might come as useful to the investigation.” Your tablets chime, a picture of a forearm you assume belongs to Amaya Walker popping up on the screen. The fax machine set up under the table whirs, and you pull out the printed version and pass it wordlessly to Spencer. The brown skin of her forearm is marred by scratchy handwriting, a list of household points of interest:

“Bedframe

Edge of coffee table

Light fixture

Oven door

Nightlight

Garage door

Silver spoon”

Your eyes widen, picking up your case file to compare.

“These are all…”

“Where the unsub left smears of the victim’s blood.” Spencer finishes your sentence, his eyes meeting yours with lines of confusion between them. The seemingly random smears of blood had been a point of confusion for you all when you did the initial walkthrough of the two murders back at the office. Each very far from the site of the murder, the team had concluded it had to be part of the unsub’s signature, although they were different for each murder.

This was part of why JJ didn’t want it released to the public, on the off chance that the publicity causes the unsub to escalate or double down.

“Yes, wonderful profilers, you’re correct. The list correlates with all the different spills of blood and…” Garcia shudders, “gore left at every crime scene. Her husband has refused to speak to the police, and she insists he has nothing to do with it, but the police are working on a warrant, they should be getting them both to the station tomorrow.”

“Yes, that is strange. Reid, L/N, you two go to the ME’s office, figure out if there’s anything we can get out of the method of killing. Dave, you go with Morgan and JJ to the most recent crime scene. Maybe we can get something more out of it. Prentiss, you and I will head to the first crime scene, see what we can see. Hopefully we can correlate that with whatever we get from Walker tomorrow.” Hotch’s stern, no-nonsense voice cuts through the confusion, and you all straighten up, ready to get to work.

The medical examiner’s office is chilly, and you regret forgoing a blazer as you step into the bright building from the warm evening air. Spencer laughs softly next to you, and he nudges your shoulder.

“Cold?”

“No.”

You speak resolutely, but the sparkle in his eye indicates he knows your lie. Grabbing the distinctive purple scarf from around his neck, he wraps it around yours, smiling when he meets your eye. The moment is only broken by the clip-clop of shoes coming down the hallway, and you both turn away hastily.

The ME walks up to you, his voice clipped and curt.

“You’re from the FBI? Come with me, please.”

You follow him into a room that smells overwhelmingly of formaldehyde. Two examining tables stand in the middle of the room, white sheets covering the bodies.

“The methods of killing were very different for each case, so much so that we didn’t put together that they were related until the police did.”

Spencer nods from beside you, accepting a clipboard from the doctor. Not bothering to read it, when he can do it in a fraction of the time, you converse with the doctor.

“Yes, we saw that one of the victims was stabbed, and the other strangled? That doesn’t track with any evolution we’ve seen before. Stabbing’s generally much easier than strangling, we usually see them go the other way around.”

He nods, pulling back the sheet on the second victim. You can see mottled bruises around his neck.

“Yes, the most recent victim, John Coulhain, was strangled. By the angle of the bruising, it’s clear he was attacked from behind, and by something that has both leather and metal in it. You see here, there’s a larger imprint from the metal segment.”

Spencer raises his head.

“It says here that he had just gotten out of the shower after work?”

“That’s right. He was found in only a towel. His clothes weren’t found.”

You frown, turning to Spencer.

“Leather and metal… that sounds like a belt to me. Coulhain was a lawyer. He wore suits to work.”

He picks up on your train of thought, continuing where you leave off.

“His clothes weren’t found. The unsub might have used his belt as a murder weapon, so he took the rest too.”

You turn to the medical examiner

“The first victim, Cohen Gibson, what sort of knife do you believe was used?”

He walks you over to the second table, drawing back the sheet so you can see the seemingly random pattern of wounds.

“They’re varying degrees of shallowness, but the shape of the wounds makes me think it was something medium-sized, probably stainless steel.”

Spencer leans forward, inspecting the wounds closely as he muses.

“Stainless steel isn’t the sort of knife you buy with the intention of violence. 54% of stainless steel knives are purchased for everyday purposes, like cooking.”

The ME walks you through the rest of the details of the murders, but the randomness of the methods of killing and the missing clothing stick with you.

An hour later, when you and Spencer walk out of the building into the dusk, it’s still on your mind.

“Reid, why would an unsub use a perfectly good knife for his first murder, but forgo bringing it to the next scene, and use his victim’s belt instead? That reads like a devolution, and this guy is still ramping up.”

“Maybe he’s relishing the deaths? Strangling takes longer, so maybe he realised that stabbing wasn’t going to give him the time with the body that he wanted.” He offers, but you can tell he’s not convinced.

“The scenes don’t show any sign of him lingering. And even if that’s the case, why not bring your own strangling equipment? A belt doesn’t give him the precision he needs in order to control the rate of death, especially one he just snatched off the floor.”

Spencer nods slowly as you approach the car.

“He doesn’t hesitate at all in killing them, but he doesn’t come prepared. It’s like he’s obscenely confident in himself, and doesn't think he needs to plan in order to pull it off.”

You slide into the car as your phone begins to buzz in your pocket. Fishing it out, you pick up the call.

“Hey Emily, you’re on speaker.”

She speaks immediately, forgoing any greeting.

“The first victim, Cohen Gibson. Was the weapon a stainless steel knife?”

You exchange a look with Spencer, replying quickly.

“Yeah, it was. Why do you ask?”

“Gibson’s wife just confirmed that their knife block is gone, along with six stainless steel knives.”

Spencer leans forward to speak into your phone.

“That makes sense. We think the unsub is showing up with no preparation because he believes he doesn’t need it. He’s a narcissist.”

She makes a distracted sound of affirmation.

“That sounds right. Okay, Hotch wants you to meet us at the hotel, we’re going to compare notes there.”

You go to hang up, before she speaks once more.

“Oh, one more thing, the local police department got the warrant to bring in Amaya Walker for an interview tomorrow. You guys should do that, she’ll be more relaxed with younger people there. If her husband has something to do with it, you have to get it out of her.”

Stepping out of the SUV the next morning, you and Spencer walk through the sliding doors of the Decorah P.D.'s office, greeted by the captain of the precinct.

“Hi, I’m SSA L/N, this is Doctor Reid.” You shake his hand, chuckling under your breath as you watch Spencer awkwardly avoid doing the same.

Once you’ve set up your things in the conference room they’ve allocated to you, Spencer turns to Captain Peretti.

“So, is Mrs Walker here? We’d like to ask her a few questions.”

Spencer is sitting in the chair across from Mrs Walker in the interrogation room, while you are leaned against the desk next to him.

“We really appreciate you coming in like this, I understand that this is a stressful time for you. Mrs Walker, what can you tell us about your husband’s whereabouts when the list showed up on your skin?” She’s being cagey, not answering your questions and clamming up whenever you mention her husband.

“Eric had nothing to do with it. I’m telling you, it was a mistake for me to come in, I’m sure it’s unrelated.”

She motions to the words on her arm, and you sigh. It looks like straight questioning isn’t going to get you anywhere. Spencer leans his elbows on the desk, looking at Mrs Walker, his brown eyes seeming larger in the dim light. His shirt sleeves ride up his arm a little, and a flash of dark lines shows before it’s covered again.

“Let me ask you this, have messages like this come up on your skin before? Whether they’re lists or not, have you ever seen anything show up on your left forearm?” She shakes her head mutely, eyes trained on the steel surface in front of her. You sigh, motioning discreetly at Spencer, and you both rise, walking out to the viewing area where Hotch and Emily are standing.

“She won’t say anything?”

“Only that her husband has nothing to do with it. But…” Spencer trails off, and you take the opportunity to finish his thought.

“But, she clearly has some hangup about the messages. When Spencer asked whether they’d showed up before, she said no, but it’s clear there’s more there.” Hotch nods thoughtfully. Lost in thought, you spin a pen in your hand, tapping the uncovered tip against the inside of your wrist, accustomed to the ink blotches that appear on the skin there.

Your eyes wander aimlessly as you do so, and land on Spencer, who is scratching at his forearm. It causes his shirt sleeve to ride up a little again. That’s when you see it.

Small marks are on his skin, more muted than you usually see them, but you’d recognise them anywhere. Your eyes widen, looking down at your own wrist. A constellation of ink dots and lines are scattered across the delicate skin, identical to the ones on Spencer’s wrist.

Is this really happening? Reid? Of course, you’d never been able to convince yourself you weren’t attracted to him, but he’s your coworker. He’s a large part of why you’re so nervous at the BAU. He’s not your soulmate… is he?

Hotch’s unflapped voice breaks through your racing thoughts. “Okay. Head back in, press about their relationship, not the list. Let’s see if we can find a weak spot.”

Well. Looks like you’ll have to contain this revelation until you’re done for the day. Your head reels with the discovery, but you have to put it aside in favour of the case.

Your mind made up, you snatch the pen off the table before following Spencer back into the interrogation room, steeling yourself with a deep breath.

“We’d like to get to know you a little more, Mrs Walker, if that’s alright with you. How long have you been married?”

She shifts in her seat, uncomfortable, but answers readily. “Fifteen years. And no, there’s never been any red flags that make me think he would ever be capable of something like this.”

From his spot next to you, Spencer nods once.

“Okay, we understand. In your relationship, do you guys have any rituals to do with your connection? Like writing to each other throughout the day, or a code system or something with your skin?”

Her cheeks flush, eyes trained on her lap. You press further.

“What is it Mrs Walker? Whatever it is, we really need you to tell us.” No answer. Spencer leans forward.

“Mrs Walker, two men are dead. We’re doing our best to find whoever did it, but we need all the information you can give us in order to do that. You can help us prevent any more deaths.” She wraps her arms around her middle, but still doesn’t say a word. Following his lead, you slam a hand down on the metal table.

“Mrs Walker! I understand that, whatever this is, it’s personal, but this is not the time to be hiding information from us. Men are dead, and it's starting to look like the perpetrator had some connection to you. The local police have a warrant for your husband’s arrest. I want to help you get your family out of this mess, but you need to tell us everything you can. Now.” Her shoulders slump, and finally, you feel like she’s telling you the truth.

“I… I started getting the messages in September. They’re not- not from Eric.” A wordless conversation passes between you and Spencer. That was 4 months before the first murder. You turn back to her, nodding encouragingly as the words seem to spill past her parted lips.

“I never expected to have a soulmate. Or at least… to be able to speak with them. My husband and I, we’re happy! I didn’t care that we weren’t soulmates until…”

Spencer prompts her, leaning forward. “Until?”

“Until the first drawing showed up. It was just a doodle of something, I barely remember now, but we started writing to each other. In places that no one would see, the underside of my arm, or my ribcage. I didn’t- I never did anything! I love my husband, I do, and I would never-” She cuts herself off, holding up a hand to ask for a little time. A few minutes later, she pipes up again.

“I don’t know his name or anything. We talked about surface level stuff, you know? Favourite books, shows, things like that. I was never going to do anything about it, so I didn’t tell anyone.” You can’t help but raise your head, flashing a look at the one-way mirror, hoping Hotch will read the urgency on your face.

“This is good, Mrs Walker. Thank you for telling us. It’s going to take us some time to deduce whether this is related to the murders or not, but I hope you won’t object to helping us further.” Wordlessly, Spencer slides your notepad and pen over to her.

“I’m going to need you to write down everything you can remember from your messages. If there are any still on you, I really need you to write them down as clearly as you can. In a few minutes, one of our teammates will be in, and they’ll walk you through a cognitive interview, try and see how much we can recover.” The two of you rise, nodding to the officer stationed inside the door, but you pause when she calls out to you.

“Do you- do you think that it’s wrong of me? To stay in this relationship, when I know there’s a soulmate out there for me?” You go to speak, but Spencer beats you to it.

“Mrs Walker, the phenomenon of connections like these doesn’t necessarily mean that the relationship would be perfect. You love your husband, and you have loved him for years. A ‘soulmate connection’ doesn’t mean you should even be in a relationship. Many people don’t even believe it has anything to do with compatibility, those relationships are just as flawed as any other. Honestly, I sometimes think the expectations could hinder a relationship.”

It startles you a little, the emotion behind Spencer’s eyes when he speaks. Does he really not believe that a connection means anything? Your eyes can’t help but flick down to the faint marks on your wrist.

By the time you look up, Spencer is already in the doorway, looking back at you with concern in his eyes.

“You okay?” His voice is hushed, intimate, but it’s all you can do to brush it off. Walking back into the conference room, the team is already hard at work.

Spencer’s confused. Something clearly rattled you in the interrogation room, but despite his attempts to meet your eyes, it’s like you’re purposely avoiding his gaze.

He hasn’t taken the time to think about it, but whether that’s because he’s busy or because he’s worried, who knows?

What he does know is that you have quickly become one of his favourite people to work with. Hours spent hunching over maps together, inspecting crime scenes and interviewing witnesses have endeared you to him faster than he thought was possible. It’s this unexplainable fondness that leaves him reeling when the comforting smiles and shared looks are lost all of a sudden.

He attempts to push it to the back of his mind as the team runs through the case once more, Garcia’s tinny voice streaming through the room. However, he’s not fully in it, and the team notices. By the time they’ve concluded that a reinspection of the crime scenes and interviewing Eric Walker was necessary, Emily is eyeing him weirdly, and Morgan all but frog-marches him out to the precinct’s kitchenette.

“Kid. What’s going on?” The elder man braces his hands on Spencer’s shoulders, eyes blazing into his.

“You’ve been acting weird ever since the second interview with Amaya Walker, and so has L/N.” A sense of relief floods through Spencer, and he speaks earnestly.

“I don’t know! We interviewed Mrs Walker again, and it was all fine, but the moment we left the room it’s like she can’t look at me anymore. It’s making me feel all awkward.”

Morgan sighs, his fingers unintentionally digging into Spencer’s shirt.

“What did you say when you left?” Spencer bristles a little at the implied accusation, but can’t help but run through the last few parts of the interview.

“It was all normal, but then she- Mrs Walker, asked if she was wrong to stay in her relationship when she has a ‘soulmate’ out there.” He nods, prompting Spencer to continue.

“I told her what I think she’d agree with, that I don’t know if a connection would make a relationship stronger. I thought that was right, it felt like it soothed the witness.” A troubled look passes over Spencer’s face. He’s always struggled with social cues, but he thought he’d improved. Mrs Walker looked much calmer after he said that to her, and that was protocol.

Calm the witness, make sure they think you are in their corner. Gideon’s voice rings through his head.

“And that was it! We left the room, and then she started acting all…”

Morgan’s features are unreadable, but his hands relax on Spencer’s shoulders.

“Sounds like you need to figure out why she’s bothered. But, kid… Don’t let this affect the case.”

With that, he pats Spencer’s shoulder and walks off, leaving him pondering his words. Figure it out.

Spencer Reid is good at figuring things out. Maybe he can’t tackle this like Spencer, your bumbling coworker, but as Spencer, the profiler.

You’ve been at the first crime scene for only a few minutes, but the awkwardness is thick in the air between you.

Spencer has that infuriating look on his face, all furrowed brows and piercing gazes and so attractive it makes you want to pull your hair out. It’s making it so hard to try and detach yourself from him.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you sidle over to the evidence markers that tag the blood smears in this crime scene.

“So we’ve got… A side table in the master bedroom, a heart pillow that was in the living room and an elephant painting on the wall in the landing. All far away from the site of the murder in the kitchen.”

Spencer steps up next to you, still gazing at you unreadably, but opens his mouth to follow your train of thought.

“The blood spatters indicate that the attack began in the hallway, and the final blows in the kitchen. No blood anywhere else, nowhere near the smears.”

You nod, trying to run through the details of the case in your mind.

“The attack is rushed, hasty. All the stab wounds indicate a blitz attack and a lot of overkill, but the smears are calculated.”

He smiles, and it’s all you can to not turn and reflect that back to him.

“Right, no blood dripping anywhere outside of the murder, not even when he takes some to the different areas of the house to smear. The murder itself is charged with anger, but this is something more. It’s deliberate, it’s…”

You meet his eyes, finally, and voice what you know you’ve both concluded.

“It’s a message. But to whom?”

He holds your gaze, going to reply to you, but is cut off by the shrill sound of his phone ringing. With a sigh, he fishes it out of his breastpocket, holding the brick-like device to his ear.

Whatever he hears has him tensing, and you feel like a coiled spring, bracing yourself for whatever grim news is awaiting you.

“Okay Hotch, we’re leaving now, get Garcia to send all the photos to us.” He sets down the phone, looking at you.

“There’s been another murder.”

You stand at the clear whiteboard, surveying the images tacked on to it. The blood smears of the newest crime scene are pinned up next to those of the two previous ones, and it’s driving the two of you crazy trying to decipher what the patterns are. Spencer fiddles with his fingers, the marks on his wrist flashing as his sleeve shifts, sending your mind spiralling every time you notice them.

“A painting of a tree, and an orange. Let me ask you this, do you think the things themselves are significant or the locations of them?”

You shake your head slowly, trying to clear the fog from your mind. The both of you are silent, standing in front of the board with puzzled looks, when Morgan bursts in, waving around some papers.

“Got the pictures of Mrs Walker’s newest message.” He grabs a magnet and pins a picture of Mrs Walker’s calf to the centre of the board, two things listed there.

“Tree painting

Orange”

“Ok kids, we really need you to work your magic this time,” Morgan taps your shoulder.

“The cooling down period has gotten shorter and shorter. We can’t expect to get to tomorrow evening without another murder.”

You sigh, rubbing your wrist absentmindedly. The marks and your newfound realisation about Spencer haven’t left your mind, but have been pushed to the background for the time being. However, the frustration brings it back up. The connection. Does it mean nothing to him? Does he not think that it would do something for a relationship? You’ve always thought it would indicate that you belong together, wouldn’t you…

Your body moves without your go-ahead.

Eyes widen.

Shoulders tense.

Your arms reach forward, haphazardly grabbing and moving the lists until three pictures sit side-by-side on the board in front of you.

One is printed, a crude attempt by the CSU team to catalogue the items marred by blood. Two are images, words on skin. Words, the first letters of which spell out…

You grip Spencer’s arm, pointing at the first image of Amaya Walker’s skin, the second murder.

“Belongs. Spencer, the second crime scene.”

He doesn’t even acknowledge your use of his first name, leaning forward like you are. He zeroes in on the newest image.

“To. The third one. It’s an acrostic. The first letter of each item spell out his message.”

You move forward, writing the words ‘__ BELONGS TO’ on the board. You are feeding off of each other, thinking aloud in a way that has Morgan sighing to himself.

“She didn’t get a list for the first one.”

Spencer nods. “She didn’t notice. He had to show her.”

You grab the printed list of the items smeared in the first crime scene. “Side table, pillow, painting”

He leans over your shoulder. “He’s more specific than the crime scene techs were. Heart pillow, elephant painting.”

You turn to him, stomach dropping. “She. She belongs to…”

He writes in ‘SHE’ next to the two other words. “He’s possessive, something happened to make him think he doesn’t have her.”

“Narcissistic. Driven by ownership.”

“Eric Walker was here when the third murder happened. Who else would want to lay claim to her?”

You straighten up, meeting Spencer’s eyes, not looking away even as you address Morgan.

“Derek, where’s Eric Walker?”

“They released him from questioning an hour ago, he went home.”

You and Spencer spring into action, scooping up your abandoned holsters.

“We need to get to the Walkers’ house, now. Our unsub is taking out what he sees as competition, and Mr Walker’s all he needs to get rid of.”

In the SUV, you are jittery. Morgan sits in the driver’s seat next to you, and Spencer in the back. As you fiddle with your vest straps, you can’t help but think of Mrs Walker, the woman who never wanted a soulmate. And now her soulmate is trying to kill the love of her life.

Maybe Spencer was right?

Hotch is barking orders at the gathered agents when you step out of the vehicle. Nodding along, you fall to the back of the group, your designated role until you’re called to enter the house.

Your vest is uncomfortable. The straps are always too long or too short, and you have to get it right before you storm the house, but your thoughts are so loud, and Rossi on the phone with the unsub is so piercing, and it feels like you will never get comfortable.

Finally, you feel like giving up, until warm hands find purchase on your shoulders. Looking up, you see Spencer, standing before you with a slight, nervous smile. His hands gently move yours away from the straps, and he looks at you questioningly.

“Can I?” You nod dumbly, unable to tear your eyes away from him.

The touch is soft, tentative. He pulls at the straps dangling over your shoulders firmly, tightening the vest until it sits snugly over your chest. As if acting on instinct, he slips a finger under the kevlar, brushing the thin fabric of your shirt over your collarbone delicately. It makes you shiver.

“Is that good? Too tight?” His eyes are devastatingly soft, head tilted down to face you fully.

“No, it’s good. Thanks, Reid.” You have to get yourself away from the magnetic pull of him, stepping back and letting out a sigh of relief.

You walk away, heading Emily’s way, completely missing the look of confusion he aims at you as you brush past him.

Joining the circle of agents and officers, you tune into Morgan’s run down of the plan.

“Hotch and JJ will take 5 officers and break down the front door. Now, we know there are two other doors that the unsub will probably make a break for once we enter. Prentiss and I will be at the northfacing one, Reid and Rossi at the westfacing one. L/N, you and Captain Peretti should be stationed in the land behind the house, secure the outbuildings before the unsub can think to rush to them and destroy evidence.”

You nod, exchanging a glance with the police captain.

“Remember, this unsub is severely narcissistic and delusional. He won’t stop at anything to get what he wants, including opening fire on us. Do not engage him in a confrontation. Challenging his goals and views will push him further, and we don’t want any more casualties at the hands of this man.”

With a decisive nod, Morgan breaks away from the group, the people beginning to station themselves at their posts. With the captain at your side, you walk around the house to the field behind it, directing officers to each of the small barns and outhouses dotting the land.

With the captain, you stand ready at the large wooden door of what you think is a stable, when the crackling of your earpiece alerts you to JJ’s voice.

“We’re heading in on 5, 4…” You can hear a crash and a shout, and JJ’s voice turns hurried. “We head in now!”

A few minutes have you tapping your index against the side of your firearm, worried.

“He’s not here. We have Mr Walker here, multiple stab wounds but a relatively steady pulse. House is clear.”

Emily starts speaking. “He hasn’t gone through our door. Rossi?”

Rossi crackles out a negative response. Bringing your wrist to your mouth, you speak into the mic embedded there.

“If Walker’s still bleeding out, the unsub has to have just been there. Are there any other possible exit points?”

There’s silence for a second until Reid’s voice comes over the comms, frantic.

“There’s a northwest facing window that’s unlocked! Footsteps leading away from it, into the field.”

Immediately you spring into action, autopilot taking over as you direct multiple officers to search the surrounding woods, and the rest to clear out the outbuildings.

Counting down, the police captain kicks in the stable door, and you flick on your flashlight, advancing.

The large room is drafty, the old wood planks creaking with every gust of wind. At first glance, the dark room seems quiet and empty, and each movement of your flashlight seems to confirm this.

The only thing of note you see is the row of stalls along the left wall, the angle of the opening making sure that you can’t see into all of them.

Silently, you begin to walk towards them, signalling for the captain to follow. Despite the first few being completely empty save for some hay, a chill runs down your spine, bracing yourself for a confrontation that hasn’t happened.

As you begin to inch your way to the second-to-last stall, you hear a shout from outside the building.

“There’s someone in the woods!”

One of the officers rushes past the open door to the stable, and the captain raises her head immediately, dropping her defensive stance.

“That must be him. Let’s go!” Without waiting for a response, she turns, running out of the stable, as if she can’t hear your hushed whispers.

“Captain! This building hasn’t been cleared—” She’s gone. You can hear the rush of officers running past the building, towards the wooded area to the back of the property. Despite the high probability of the unsub being the person spotted there, you know you can’t leave this building without clearing it.

You really should wait for someone to do this with you. Never enter a potential crime scene without backup. Rossi’s voice rings in your ears.

But there’s only two stalls left. The rest of your team are still securing the house and the victim. The officers are gone.

You can clear two stalls on your own. They’re probably empty anyway.

Having made up your mind, you straighten up, tightening your grip on your gun and flashlight, and advance.

Slowly walking to the first stall, you turn the corner, quickly flashing your light in the small space. Empty.

One more.

The floorboards bend slightly as you walk across them. The wind rushing past the walls ruffles your hair. The metal of your gun is warm under your palm.

The wall of the final stall comes closer, closer, until you’re stood behind it. One step forward and a turn to the left, and you’ll be at the doorway.

It’ll be empty. They’ve all been empty.

You take the step, right foot planting in front of you, and turn on the balls of your feet, flashlight and gun extended in front of your chest.

“Hello, agent.”

Not empty.

The house is finally cleared, and Mr Walker loaded into an ambulance. As he watches the vehicle retreat down the road, Spencer hears the chatter over the comms.

“Is it him?”

“The woods are thick, how did he get here without us seeing—”

“—in pursuit of the person we saw—”

“He’s a white man, late 60s—”

“It’s not him! You hear me, officer? That’s not him, do not arrest that man!” Morgan’s voice cuts through the jabbering, voice stern.

They haven’t gotten the unsub? Spencer turns on his heels, striding back into the house, where Hotch, JJ and Rossi stand around the blood spatter on the floor.

“Spence. Doesn’t look like the unsub could’ve gotten to the woods in time, not before we were stationed in the field he’d have to cut through anyway.” JJ stands with her hands on her hips, irritation clear on her face.

“The other buildings on the property?” He comes to stand next to Hotch.

“I saw Captain Peretti. She said they were all cleared. CSU’s sending more units to secure all of them, but we’re not considering any of them crime scenes as she says it’s clear he hasn’t been in them. It’ll take a while for them to get here and secure them all.” Hotch replies, brows furrowed.

The door opens, and Morgan and Prentiss walk in.

“Everything okay?”

Emily huffs. “The locals almost arrested the elderly neighbour, but other than that, the woods are seemingly clear.”

Morgan adds, “There’s some trampled plants in the cornfield to the west of the property, so we’ve got officers searching that now, but that field backs up onto a major road. If he made it through that, he could be anywhere by now.”

Rossi sighs, shoulders slumping.

“I’m getting sick of this son of a bitch slipping out of our hands.”

“I agree. Rossi, go with Prentiss and Morgan to the road by the cornfield. Canvass anyone you find, ask neighbouring homes if they saw anyone emerge from the crops onto the road or lone cars idling. If he took that way out, he'd have had a car waiting for him there.” They nod, shuffling out.

JJ pipes up, her brow furrowed in thought.

“The smears were on a milk carton in the fridge and an envelope. Me. His message is finished, isn’t it? ‘She belongs to me’. What’s he going to do now?”

Spencer’s not sure. Hotch shakes his head exasperatedly.

“JJ, let’s go find Captain Peretti. We’ll head back to the PD and see what we can make with the old clues now that we think he had an intricate exit plan. Reid, stay here, get updating the geographical profile with the information from this crime scene. We’ll send L/N here to work on it with you.”

Spencer nods, heading to the SUV to grab his map, and settling at the Walkers’ dining table to get working.

It’s hot, sweltering. A throbbing pain thuds in your skull, the feeling of dry hay against your face making your cheek itch. Instinctively, you attempt to bring your hand up to brush it away. It won't move.

You jerk your wrists, but find them bound, and a dull pain pangs in your thigh. It’s clear you’ve been out for a little while, your eyes feeling crusted shut.

With a little effort, you prise your eyes open, feeling your pupils adjust to the darkness of the room. You’re still in the final stall, sprawled against the far wall. Another experimental tug on your wrist and you realise that they’re bound together, the coarse rope wound around your right thigh, forcing you to stay hunched over.

It all comes rushing back. Losing the unsub. Peretti leaving. The empty- no, not empty stall. The raspy voice that met your ears before the resounding blow to your head.

Twisting your hands awkwardly, you begin to pick at the rough rope, trying to map out the knot that keeps you in your uncomfortable position. Sweat drips in rivulets down the back of your neck as you crane your neck.

Your position ensures that you can’t survey the entire stall, but he’s got to be close. The property’s crawling with officers.

“I’m still here, sweetheart.”

The voice rings out from somewhere behind you, dark and smug. Your hand automatically makes for your holster, but the rope digs into your skin, leaving you unable to reach it.

“Don’t bother. You think I’d let you keep your gun?”

You can hear the bastard smirk, anger and fear running hot through your veins. Your gun is your lifeline in situations like this, as not only a means of attack, but a grounding feeling. Without it you feel unmoored.

The only thing you have in your arsenal is your knowledge of the case. Of him.

“Why don’t you come stand here? Don’t tell me you’re afraid of showing me your face.” Your voice is low, cracking with dryness.

Prodding him just enough should… there it is. You hear his footsteps, walking past your bent head until you can see his feet and legs, standing in front of you.

“That enough for you? You can see me now?” He crouches, squatting by your calves to show you his face.

He’s surprisingly handsome, flushed from the heat, dark eyes boring into yours. Dressed in a suit that’s slightly too large for him, he looks out of place in the grimy stable. He’s playing the role of a businessman, save for the gun dangling from his left hand, and the telltale bulge of another— yours— in his pants pocket.

This unsub is severely narcissistic and delusional. Morgan’s words come back to you now.

“You- you outsmarted us all. We were sure we’d catch you.”

A smile spreads over his face, his ego clearly swelling. You can see his shoulders relax slightly.

“You thought so, huh? I guess even the FBI has hubris.” His lips form the word hubris with some effort, pronouncing it as huh-brus. It’s clear he’s putting on airs.

You need to get the others here. You could wait it out, until the crime scene techs eventually make their way to this building towards the back of the Walkers’ land.

But he has two guns, and he wants Amaya Walker, not you. Who knows how long he’ll be content to lord over you, until he inevitably gets tired of playing with you. He has two guns.

How do you get a message to them? There’s no way he’ll let you have your phone, and this guy has no reason to contact anyone but Mrs Walker. He doesn’t need a phone for that, just a pen, probably in his jacket.

A pen. Spencer. That’s it.

“So, you and Mrs— um, Amaya. Are you guys going to meet in person soon?”

That does the trick. His eyes glaze over with an expression that would look love-drunk, if you didn’t know about the blood on his hands.

“Soon. There’s nothing keeping us apart now. I’ll go to see her as soon as I’m done here.”

“That’s why you’re dressed up? I think she’ll like that suit.”

His voice is deceptively soft, almost tricking you into forgetting how dangerous he is.

“I think so too. I borrowed it from a friend, John. She’ll like it.”

John Coulhain. The second murder victim, the lawyer. You resist the urge to gag.

“Yeah. It’s- it’s hot in here, isn’t it? Maybe you should take off the jacket and save it for when you see her. You don’t want to sweat through it.”

His metaphorical hackles raise, and you can tell he’s getting ready to stand and walk away from you.

“No, I don’t mean it in an insulting way, not at all. It’s just really- really warm in here. I’m sweating. Maybe Amaya would like to hug you when you meet her. She won’t want sweat on her.”

Your voice is wavering, eyes unable to move from the gun still in front of you.

It takes a long minute before he speaks again.

“Maybe I should take off the jacket. Just for a little.” He’s clearly loathed to admit his perceived fault, muttering to himself rather than speaking to you. Straightening up, you hear rustling above you, until the jacket falls in a heap in front of your bound wrists, part of the fabric falling on the tips of your fingers. You grasp it in your hand, wincing as the rope rubs the sensitive skin on your wrists raw.

As smoothly as possible, you hunch over further, settling in the foetal position, pulling the jacket to cover your hands a little more.

Seemingly not noticing your movement, you see his legs walk out of your eyesight, padding around you until he comes to a stop somewhere behind your body.

“Now, we’re going to wait here until your police friends are all done at the house. Then I’m going to take you with me, and we’ll go see Amaya. You’re going to be our witness, and then I’ll get rid of you, got it?”

His voice is unnervingly slow and deliberate, as if he’s fully convinced this plan will work. You wish you had that same conviction, but you’re sure you know how this is going to end. The stress of hiding out will surely break him, sending him into a spiral where he will either kill you and then himself, or kill you and let the police kill him.

You have to get them here before that happens. Heart pounding, you slowly inch the jacket closer to you, until your hands are fully buried in the folds of fabric. Feeling around blindly, you trace the inner lining of the expensive fabric until you feel a lip of material. The inner pocket is welcoming to your aching fingers, and you sigh, nearly delirious with relief when your index brushes against a pen. You were right.

Thanking whatever deity there is, you grip the pen, shoving it between your bound wrists, out of sight.

Tugging once more, you’re resigned to the fact that you don’t have the range of motion to write legibly on your forearm, hands laying uselessly against your clothed thighs. The nearest exposed skin is on your ankle, and you have no hope of contorting to reach that without him noticing.

Chancing a look behind you, you can see him hunched over his knees, muttering to himself. You don’t have much time left.

Deciding to make a rash decision, you grip the pen once more. Shifting so your left leg is hiked up, your wrists shoved between your legs, you take the pen, jabbing harshly at the fabric of your pants. Without being able to see, your aim is sloppy, but after a few minutes of brute force, you’ve ripped a jagged hole in your pants, near where your left calf meets your knee.

Tension runs through your body, shifting the pen in your hand so that you can write.

‘Spencer’

Spencer is stumped. Standing over the large map spread over the dining table, he can’t think of a reason why the unsub would ever leave the scene. This was his endgame, his final target until he could have Amaya Walker to himself. Why would a narcissistic sociopath flee after that?

Garcia’s voice comes crackling over the comms.

“My good doctor, it’s a little ridiculous that I had to use the PD’s satellite phone to get in touch with you. Do any of you pick up the phone anymore?”

He huffs out a laugh.

“We’re in the middle of farm country, Garcia. None of us have signal. Have you got anything?”

“You know I do. I took a look-see into Mr Walker’s history to see if he’d been stalked, and in multiple stretches of CCTV footage he’s being tailed by a white SUV. Including two hours ago, when he was on his way home. The car followed him on the main road, and pulled into their private road after Walker.”

“The car probably belongs to our unsub then. Do you have a name?”

“Do you even need to ask? Name’s Randall Slater, seems to tick most of the boxes of the profile. I’ll call back when I have more, Garcia out!”

Spencer slumps back in his chair. Sure, they have a name, but until he gets anything else from Garcia, it does nothing to help him with the geographical profile.

Wracking his brain for any possible lead, he doesn’t hear Hotch and JJ walk back in, not until they stand at the table with him, the police captain in tow.

“Reid. Where’s L/N?” Hotch speaks in a low and measured tone, but Spencer can tell that he’s worried.

“She’s not here yet. I thought you guys were going to send her here?” He raises his head, meeting JJ’s concerned eyes.

“She wasn’t with Captain Peretti.”

“When we were pursuing the neighbour in the woods, I lost her. I figured she’d come back to find you guys.” Peretti’s voice is tight with worry, and a tinge of something else that Spencer doesn’t have the time to decipher right now.

“Morgan and the rest haven’t heard from her?”

Hotch shakes his head no.

“Her comms have gone silent.” JJ brings a hand up to rub her temples.

“Captain, inform your officers that we are looking for Agent L/N as well. Hopefully there’s nothing wrong, but we can’t rule out the possibility that the unsub found a way to get close.”

Peretti nods stiffly, striding out of the room hurriedly.

He can barely wrap his head around it. You’re not checking in? If there was a word stronger than worried, he’d find it, but his brain seems to be wading through sludge at the moment. He hadn’t realised how untethered he feels when you’re not there, until now, where it feels like the only thing he can think of.

He can’t just sit around. Spencer straightens up, snatching his FBI windbreaker off of a chair and beginning to put it on.

“Okay, I’ll head out into the crop fields. If he took her as he fled, there’s got to be evidence of it.”

He’s already halfway across the room when Hotch calls out after him.

“Reid, no. You need to stay here. Work on the geoprofile.”

Spencer can feel the irritation bubbling up inside him, his voice straining with the effort of not yelling.

“Hotch, I’m not going to sit around here and do nothing when the unsub could have Y/N with him. If I can find—” Hotch cuts him off.

“We. Reid, I know you’re emotional, we all are, but you cannot forget that this is a team. We’re all prioritising this. You know that you are best used here. If the unsub took her, we need to locate that secondary location immediately, that’s what you need to be doing.”

Incensed, Spencer can’t help but raise his voice.

“Do we even know that he left? We profiled him to be a delusional narcissist, why would he ever leave? Hotch, I’m telling you, something is wrong here!”

Hotch’s eyes flash with emotion, and he opens his mouth, presumably explaining why Spencer shouldn’t leave. It’s all a moot point, however, because in that moment, he feels a burning on his left calf.

The one-sided conversation goes over his head as Spencer can’t help but tug up his pant leg, itching at his skin as he runs through possibilities in his head. The unsub could’ve done what they’d now theorised, taken you and dragged you through the cornfield, into a car that was waiting by the main road. But why?

He huffs, sitting down in a dining chair as he continues scratching at his leg. Hotch falls silent, but he doesn’t notice, lost in his thoughts.

“Spencer. Spence!”

JJ’s voice snaps him out of his haze.

“What, JJ?” He snaps, irked that he’s been pulled out of his thoughts.

“Spencer, your leg.” He follows her pointed finger to the exposed skin of his calf, red from his scratching. It looks normal, smattering of hair covering the dark moles and lines covering his skin.

Wait. Lines?

He shifts, hooking his ankle over his right knee so he can see his calf more clearly. Shaky lines are forming on the skin in jerky motions, spelling out words in a familiar script.

‘Spencer

unsub in stable

west edge

2 guns

wants amaya’

The handwriting is slanted, letters running into each other and words misspelled. And he knows it’s yours.

“Y/N. It’s her handwriting. She’s writing to me.”

He feels like he’s in an out-of-body experience. He can hear JJ’s gasp, but it feels as though it’s coming from miles away. Hotch is saying something, but the words don’t register as anything more than misshapen sounds.

Graphology is one of Spencer’s specialties, but now he wishes he’d never learned about it. He wishes he didn’t know that the harsh angles of your writing indicate that you have adrenaline pumping through your veins. He wishes he didn’t see the way your letters jumble together, a physical manifestation of your fear.

He slowly comes back to his body, finally understanding what Hotch is saying into his comm.

“—a stable on the west edge of the property. We need the three of you back immediately, JJ, Reid and I will coordinate with the locals to have the building surrounded. Reid, can you hear me? Reid!”

Spencer nods, looking up at Hotch.

“We need to know what’s happening in there. Is she hurt? Can she overpower him?”

He agrees, snatching up a pen and wracking his brain on what to write.

‘Are you hurt?

Are you armed?

Can you talk him down?’

He writes carefully, focusing on the drag of the ballpoint pen on his skin rather than the pure fear riddling his body. Once finished, he doesn’t set down the pen, fiddling with it in an attempt to stop himself from running to the building immediately.

JJ sets a hand on his shoulder, and although he’s grateful for her support, he can’t bring himself to look at her. He can’t look away from his leg. He has a soulmate.

You’re laying at an awkward angle, neck craned and back hunched over so that you can read what Spencer’s written.

Are you hurt? Your head hurts like hell, and the rope has irritated your skin to no end, but nothing that impairs you. You write a shaky ‘N’ next to the question.

Are you armed? You chance another look behind you, looking longingly at your gun in his pocket. Another ‘N’.

Can you talk him down? Can you? You remember the many times Rossi tutored you on interacting with narcissistic unsubs. Learn what they want, promise they will have it, and don’t challenge them. What does he want?

You decide you can, writing a small ‘Y’. Next to that, you scrawl hurriedly, hearing him shift around.

‘bring amaya’

With that, you stuff the pen in your sock, relaxing your body and hoping you don’t look like you’ve been up to something.

The unsub is unsettled, and you can hear him oscillate between standing and sitting repeatedly.

If you want to take control of the situation, you need to act quickly. He’s losing patience with you and the officers outside. If you wait too long, he’ll snap, and then you’re done for.

A final peek at your calf finds the words ‘5 minutes’ etched there.

Five minutes to talk him down. You can do it for five minutes.

You croak out lowly, vocal chords rasping against each other.

“I— I spoke to Amaya. When we were investigating. She told me about you. About the two of you.”

You can hear him stop moving abruptly, and then the patter of his feet as he walks quickly to you. He comes to a stop right in front of your face, your eyeline taken up by his feet and ankles. He speaks in a hushed tone, as if tasting the words carefully before speaking.

“She did? What did she tell you?”

“She said you’d been talking for a while. That it started when you drew a flower on your upper arm? She drew it for us.”

His voice has regained some of its smugness as he replies. His feet are tapping softly, as if he has all the time in the world.

“Of course she did. She loves me.”

You nod jerkily, continuing with your waffle.

“It's clear she does. I'm— in the FBI, I'm a profiler. I'm an expert on human behaviour, and I could see it, despite…”

You trail off, hopeful that he'll take the bait. He does, voice gaining a dangerous edge.

“Despite? Don't let me stop you from speaking your mind, agent.”

“Well, she was scared when we spoke. You know, suddenly there were all these dead bodies that were linked to her. She was pretty shaken.”

His tapping stills.

“Because of the bodies? I did that for her. For us!”

“Yes, I know. It's romantic, really. But, it scared Amaya a bit. It's all so sudden, you see. She was a little freaked out, especially because you hadn't told her about it.”

He's silent for nearly a minute, breathing heavily.

“She's angry about what I did for her?”

“No, not angry. I know she'll understand. You did it for her, she'll love it. She just… wanted to know from you, instead of the police.”

There. You've set your trap, and hopefully he'll fall right in it. Rossi's good-natured lectures play out in your head.

Never challenge a narcissist directly. Make them worried, but never tell them outright that the object of their desire isn't going to be theirs.

He feigns nonchalance, but you can hear in his voice that his narcissistic possessiveness is warring with the uncertainty you've introduced.

“Your friends had better be leaving. I've got to get Amaya, and if that takes too long, it's on you.”

You fall silent, hearing him mutter to himself as he begins to pace. If you push further you might be toeing the line too far.

The five minutes are almost up, you've got to believe that you've done enough to help them talk him down.

As if on cue, you hear the familiar crackle of a megaphone. Rossi's voice, albeit muffled, comes booming towards you, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Randall, we have the building surrounded! Let the agent go and we can end this peacefully!”

The unsub, Randall, you suppose, straightens up, and you see him walk cautiously away from you. He walks to the far wall of the wooded building, and you catch a glimpse of him peering through the wood planks. He swears, shoves his gun into his waistband and paces hurriedly back to you.

“You bitch. Did you tell them? Huh? Did you?” He grabs a hold of the rope binding your wrists to your thigh, tugging you up to face him. The rope cuts harshly into your skin, forcing your right leg up at an unnatural angle to follow your wrists.

“I didn’t! I didn’t tell them, I don’t have my phone!”

Wrong thing to say. His eyes darken, and you see his hand twitch toward his gun.

You’re so close, you just need to show him what he’s here for. You hope Spencer got Amaya here.

“I can get you to Amaya! I swear it, if you let me talk to them, I can get them to give you Amaya.”

It works. He doesn’t let you go, and you whimper at the feeling of the rope cutting you, but he pauses, and you can see him thinking it over in his head. It takes one long minute, but he seems to make up his mind.

“No funny business. I’m going to be right there, so don’t even try sending them any messages, got it?”

You nod, and he whips out a pocket knife, using it to slice through the rope. You let out a deep sigh of relief, your right foot meeting the floor so you can finally stand alone. Blood seeps from the cuts on your wrists and thigh.

He grabs you by the throat, pressing himself to your back, and you register the cold barrel of a gun pressing against your side, where your vest doesn’t cover.

As he half marches, half drags you to the large door, he hisses in your ear.

“I don’t want to hear anything other than Amaya, got it? You say anything that doesn’t have to do with getting her here, I shoot you.”

You nod wordlessly, stumbling towards the door. He comes to a stop right behind it, and maneuvers around you to shove it open, thrusting you out into the fading light of the evening.

Blinking rapidly, you slowly focus on the cavalry in front of you. Multiple SUVs are parked at a three meter’s distance from the stable, doors flung side open so the officers and agents can huddle behind them. A few steps away from them stands Rossi, the sight of him sending a rush of comfort through you.

Rossi clutches the megaphone tighter, and you notice he’s speaking to someone by the SUV in front of him— Oh. Spencer is crouched at the car right in front of you, silver revolver glinting in his hand, and his eyes trained on you as he speaks to Rossi.

It feels rather stupid, but you can’t help but note how pretty he looks, hair tousled and jaw clenched.

You’re pulled out of your reverie when Randall jabs you in the side with his gun, making you yelp.

“Now.” He warns. You straighten your neck, making eye contact with Rossi.

“He’s demanding to see—” Another jab. “—to have Amaya Walker. Please bring her out.”

As you speak, you take your right hand, which was dangling at your side, and bring it up to your pants pocket. Making a gesture that resembles a gun, you slip it into your pocket softly. There’s no significant signal that they’ve understood, but you see the skin around Rossi’s eyes pinch, and you hope you’ve gotten the point across.

If they can get him to move just a little, you can retrieve your gun from his pocket and incapacitate him. And the only thing that will get him to move now is Amaya.

Rossi brings the megaphone back up to his mouth.

“We can get her here, but we need a guarantee that you won’t harm this agent. Randall, can you do that? Give us Agent L/N, and we can get you Amaya.”

Incensed, Randall hits your side harder with the barrel of his gun. You see Spencer and Morgan twitch forward slightly.

“No! I want Amaya here, now, and I’m not letting your girl go until I see her!”

Rossi nods quickly, signalling to someone behind him. At that motion, JJ emerges from who-knows-where, Amaya Walker in tow. The older woman is wearing a bulletproof vest, her face ashen at the sight in front of her.

They walk forward until they’re standing by the cars.

At the sight of her, Randall relaxes slightly, but not enough to where you can easily maneuver to your gun. Shaking your head slightly, you see JJ prompt Mrs Walker.

Her voice is shaky and quiet, but you know Randall is hanging on to every word.

“Randall. That’s your name? I’m—” She chokes back a sound. “I’m so glad to meet you.”

Randall makes a pitiful noise from behind you.

“They said you were scared of me.”

JJ prompts her again.

“I- I could never be afraid of you.”

At that, Randall lets his hand fall from your throat, and you move. Whipping around, you shove his gun away, diving into his pocket and retrieving yours. You straighten, pointing your gun at him as steadily as you can, with the wobble in your right leg.

He attempts to run to Amaya, but JJ’s already swept her away.

“Randall, surrender now! You’re surrounded!” Rossi’s voice booms, but it only serves to madden him further.

With a roar of anger he begins to charge to you, and you squeeze, before collapsing. The bullet hits his thigh, the last thing you see before you pass out.

It feels like hours later when you come to, but it's clearly only been a few minutes. You’re sitting on something hard, cold metal, but your back is being supported by something warm.

Only a few beats pass until the sounds come rushing back. You hear the chatter of multiple people around you, but three voices come the clearest. One is deep, interjecting intermittently to the conversation.

The other is calm and melodic, speaking in a steady rhythm that doesn’t falter at all.

The last is hurried, speaking so quickly that it feels as though it all runs into a pleasant hum. They’re clearly asking questions to the second voice, but you can’t fully understand what they’re saying.

You want to know who it is. With an immense amount of effort, you prise your eyes open, blinking blearily at the lights.

“Hey, there she is.” There’s that deep voice. Turning to it, you see a familiar face. Derek smiles at you softly, his hand coming up to rub your shoulder.

“You had us worried there, sunshine.”

Looking around dazedly, you can finally take in your surroundings. You’re sitting in the open doors of an ambulance, the evening having given away to the darkness of night. Headlights from multiple cars light up the area, leaving you spaced out.

There’s a medic standing next to Derek, tending to the cuts on your thigh. Who’s the last voice?

You twist around, much to the chagrin of the medic, but their protests fall away when you see him.

Spencer sits next to you, your back leaning against his side. His eyes are worried, pinched together, but still lovely.

“Hey.”

It’s simple, but the word seems to mean something more, when it’s coming out of his mouth, and when he’s looking at you like that.

You’re frozen, unable to speak. The medic pats your knee, saying that the rest of your patching up should be done at the hospital. Derek walks away after kissing your forehead. You can barely say goodbye to him.

It’s only once you’re relatively alone that Spencer speaks again. You turn to face him, immediately missing the heat of his torso against your back.

“Was… this why you were acting differently?” He raises his leg, pulling up his pant leg to show you the words on his skin.

You nod.

“You said you didn’t think it was real. I didn’t know how to tell you yet, and then— it was the only way to contact you.”

You see his hands raise slightly, but refrain from touching you. You want him to touch you.

“I don’t know if I believe in it. But… Even without it, I wanted this.” His words are achingly sincere, and his hand comes to rest over yours.

“Wanted it since we met.”

Your breath hitches slightly, and you turn your hand to hold his, your wrist with pen marks meeting his.

The words don’t come to your tongue, but you’re sure he knows. He figured it out.

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lilacgaby · 9 months ago

Note

dunno if you take reqjests but

reader drawing on bakugos hand while theyre studying

PLAGUESMMY DREAMS BRO I WANNA SEE UR TAKE ON IT

katsuki had dragged you to his room to start studying for the practical exams. you groaned and whined the whole way, he was an academic, and so he was really big on being ‘focused’ and ‘committed’ to the work.

as he questioned you on quadratics and gave you a question to solve, as if you'd be able to solve it. you slammed your head against the table in frustration, as he continued solving the problem as if nothing was wrong. you pouted, you chin on the table as you watched him. one of his hands free as the others did all the work.

you were just so bored, your palms were already out of space from when you were doodling earlier so,

you started to draw on his hand, he was startled by the sudden feeling of a pen on his hand, jerking slightly. “don't move you're gonna ruin it!”

“fuck are ya’ doing anyways? we're supposed to be studying?”

“i'm bored. just do it yourself.”

his face scrunched up in annoyance as he finished up his work, doing his best not to move his hand.

you were actually really focused, or maybe you were just taking a long time because you wanted to hold his hand. who knows.

when you finished, clicking your pen again with a satisfied nod, he looked over his hand, eyebrows raised in surprise.

he actually really liked it. it looked like a mosaic almost, you drawing whatever had come to your mind, some of the things invoking his interests. small explosion doodles mixed in with flowers, chibi doodles of the two of you with heart in between, and a little skull reminiscent of his shirt.

he was so distracted by it, he didn't notice you copying down all of his answers.

almost.

he grabbed your face in his other hand, squishing your cheeks and forcing your lips into a pout. he silently looked over you for a second, pecking your lips briefly before resuming his original position.

“draw me some shit on a piece of paper next time, 'don't want it to get ruined.”

with another kiss to your lips, he handed a flustered you a piece of paper,

“but do your own work, baby.”

with a fastened heart and face dusted with pink, you'd never finished an assignment faster.

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sunarryn · 2 months ago

Text

DP X Marvel #27

Danny wasn’t trying to become a supervillain’s protégé. Honestly, he was just trying to survive another semester at MIT without spontaneously combusting from stress. At nineteen, between triple-majoring in Astrophysics, Mechanical Engineering, and Paranormal Biochemistry—and moonlighting as the occasionally-glowy, occasionally-exploding, semi-competent vigilante known to the public as Phantom—Danny was hanging on by a thread. A very frayed, very caffeine-soaked thread. So when one of his professors suggested a special “independent study project” with a visiting Latverian dignitary-slash-scientist, Danny said yes without thinking. He needed the credits. He needed the money. He needed the free lunch vouchers. What he did not need, apparently, was to accidentally apprentice himself to Doctor Fucking’ Doom.

At first, he didn’t know. To Danny, “Victor” was just this weird, intense European dude with a crazy sense of fashion (who the hell wore a green cape in broad daylight?) and a laugh that definitely belonged in a villain origin story. But Victor paid well, never judged him for falling asleep mid-sentence, and always had the best coffee imported from who-knows-where. Danny figured he was just some rich old nerd with a lot of quirks. Maybe a little murder-y, but hey, Danny was from Amity Park. His standards for “dangerous mentor figure” were catastrophically low.

“Daniel,” Victor intoned one day, standing over a schematic that looked suspiciously like a laser death satellite. “Tell me: what improvements would you make to a mobile interdimensional particle cannon capable of vaporizing Manhattan?”

Danny, who hadn’t slept in three days and thought this was just a theoretical design, squinted at the blueprints and muttered, “Uh… you forgot the phase stabilizer. Without it, the cannon would rip itself apart before you could fire. Also, your aim’s gonna suck unless you recalibrate the gyroscopic system.”

Victor went unnaturally still. “Explain.”

Danny yawned so hard his jaw cracked. “M’kay, so if you adjust the vibrational harmonics here”—he drew all over the deadly weapon diagram with a crayon—“and rework the mana-infused crystal lattice to resonate at a higher frequency… boom. Stable, precise, terrifying. A+ on your murder machine, Professor Von Evilcape.”

Victor stared at him for a long time. Then he laughed. Not just any laugh. A full, villainous, booming laugh that echoed through the lab and set off three alarms in the next building over. Danny didn’t even blink. He just kept doodling tiny ghosts on the margins of the schematic.

From that moment onward, Victor—Doctor Doom, actual dictator of Latveria, sorcerer supreme wannabe, world-class narcissist—decided Danny was his heir apparent. His secret weapon. His beautiful chaotic son who understood him better than any of the clowns in Latveria ever had. He didn’t ask Danny if he wanted the role. He just started sending Danny increasingly absurd “assignments” that Danny, running on Monster Energy and bad life choices, completed without registering how criminally insane they were.

Case in point: one evening, Danny stumbled into the lab with a Red Bull in one hand and a half-eaten burrito in the other. Victor handed him a device.

“Install this at Stark Tower.”

Danny blinked at the tiny, harmless-looking black box. “Uh, what is it?”

“A signal booster for quantum research purposes.”

Danny, who trusted absolutely no one and also didn’t care because he had a paper due at midnight, shrugged. “Okay, cool.”

He broke into Stark Tower that night with the ease of a sleepwalking raccoon, installed the “signal booster” inside one of Tony Stark’s servers, and left. The next morning, the news was screaming about a massive data breach that almost triggered World War III. Danny was too busy trying to finish his midterm essay on quantum entanglement to notice.

“Good work, Daniel,” Victor said approvingly during their next meeting, clapping him on the back so hard he almost faceplanted into a dimensional rift. “You have the soul of a conqueror.”

“Thanks, man,” Danny mumbled, chugging coffee straight from the pot.

Victor took it a step further. He started introducing Danny at fancy functions. “This is Daniel. He is my most promising apprentice. One day he will inherit my empire.”

Danny, half-dead from exams and not paying attention, just nodded absently and said, “Yup. Love the Empire Strikes Back. Great movie. Big fan.”

Victor beamed.

It wasn’t until six months later, after the “Study Abroad” paperwork (actually an all-expenses-paid trip to Latveria) and the suspiciously grand laboratory gifted to him “for his brilliance,” that Danny realized something was deeply wrong.

He was skimming through some documents on Victor’s encrypted network—because of course Doom had an encrypted network called “DoomNet”—when he found it.

Last Will and Testament of Victor Von Doom: In the event of my death, all of Latveria, my scientific research, all proprietary technology, magical artifacts, nuclear launch codes, hidden doomsday devices, and the title of Supreme Monarch will pass to my chosen heir: Daniel Fenton, aka “Phantom,” aka “My Beautiful Disaster Child.”

Danny read it three times.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” he whispered, voice cracking. “Am I—AM I A VILLAIN PRINCE?!”

Cue the world’s most pathetic breakdown.

“NO NO NO NO NO. I JUST WANTED A DAMN SCHOLARSHIP!” He hurled a coffee mug at the wall. It phased through because he lost control of his intangibility again. “THIS IS WHAT I GET FOR TRUSTING ANYONE IN A CAPE.”

Danny spent the next two hours panic-researching Victor Von Doom. It was bad. It was really bad. It was, like, world-endingly bad. Murder records. Wars. Kidnapping Reed Richards’ kids. Banning Beyoncé from Latveria because she rejected his dinner invitation. BAD.

And it was too late. Doom had gone on international television that morning and announced Danny’s name as his successor.

“I have chosen my heir,” Doom declared, standing proudly atop his gold-plated balcony while cameras flashed below. “The boy shall inherit everything I have built. Bow before your future king, Daniel Fenton!”

Meanwhile, in his MIT dorm room, Danny choked on his cereal.

“Oh my God,” Tucker screamed over Facetime. “YOU’RE DOOM JUNIOR!”

Jazz was furiously typing. “Danny, that’s treason. Like, actual treason.”

Sam just stared at him with unholy glee. “So… when are you conquering America?”

“NEVER,” Danny screeched.

Too late. The Avengers showed up at MIT the next day. It was not subtle.

Tony Stark crashed into Danny’s quantum physics lecture, kicked open the door, and pointed dramatically at him. “YOU!”

Danny, hunched over his notes and running on negative hours of sleep, blinked. “Me?”

“Yeah, you, Doom Boy,” Tony said, stomping down the aisle while half the class screamed and ducked for cover. “You hacked my servers, hijacked my satellites, and installed a literal doom-signal into my mainframe. Care to explain, junior dictator?”

Danny held up his hands. “Okay, look. In my defense, I thought it was a Wi-Fi booster.”

Steve Rogers leaned in. “Are you actively trying to destroy America?”

Danny’s eye twitched. “Sir, I am actively trying to pass Organic Chemistry.”

Natasha Romanoff clicked a pen menacingly. “Are you or are you not plotting to overthrow the world?”

Danny hesitated. “I mean… define ‘plotting’?”

There was a long, painful silence.

Tony sighed, dragging a hand down his face. “Kid. You’re on, like, several different international watchlists. Half of SHIELD thinks you’re planning to nuke New York.”

Danny’s voice cracked. “I didn’t even know how to do laundry until last month.”

And thus began the most chaotic custody battle in history: Doom versus the Avengers versus Danny versus himself.

Victor, naturally, was thrilled. He sent Danny monogrammed armor. A custom throne. A letter that read “My son, all great rulers are hated before they are loved. However feat not. Seize your destiny.”

Danny sent it back with a post-it note that said “pls stop.”

Tony tried to recruit him instead. “Work for me. You like tech, you like coffee, you’re already better at hacking than Peter—”

“HEY,” Peter Parker shouted from across the hall.

Danny groaned into his hands. “I don’t want to work for anyone! I just want a nap!”

Sam Wilson patted him on the back sympathetically. “Welcome to adulthood, kid.”

Things escalated horrifyingly fast. Latverian officials tried to smuggle Danny out of Massachusetts under the cover of night. Doom built a life-sized gold statue of him in Latveria’s capital square. The Avengers started putting “Phantom Threat Level: High” on their briefing files. Nick Fury cornered him in a diner and deadpanned, “Son, you’re one bad day away from becoming an international incident.”

Danny, shoving pancakes in his mouth, muffled, “I don’t wanna.”

Of course, life didn’t let him off that easy.

When Doom inevitably “died”—allegedly vaporized by a malfunctioning time machine because of course he did—Danny woke up to find a legal team at his dorm room.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty,” the lead lawyer said with an evil smile. “You are now King of Latveria.”

Danny fainted on the spot.

He woke up fifteen minutes later to find Sam fanning him with a Doom flag and Tucker wearing a Latverian general’s hat he stole from one of the lawyers.

“So…” Tucker grinned. “Wanna invade Canada first?”

Danny screamed into his pillow.

And somewhere, deep in the void between worlds, Doom—very much alive and sipping espresso—chuckled darkly.

“Atta boy, Daniel,” he whispered. “Atta boy.”

#danny fenton #danny phantom #dp x marvel #danny phantom fanfiction #marvel #marvel mcu #mcu #mcu fandom #crossover #danny phantom fandom #marvel fandom #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #dr doom #victor von doom

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alisonsfics · 9 months ago

Text

guest lecturer - part one

pairing: tyler owens x student!reader

summary: when tyler owens shows up in our meteorology class to give a guest lecture, you are left just as speechless as all the other girls. but, tyler is just as awestruck by you.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: i COMPLETELY made up some science stuff for some dialogue, so if anybody actually knows stuff about meteorology or physics, this may be a little excruciating for you

part 2

You flipped through your notes, jogging your memory on last week’s lecture. The lecture hall was silent. Half of the students were falling asleep. The other half were cramming and finishing assignments for other classes.

Your professor came running through the door. Her shoes squeaked on the floor. “Sorry I’m late. I got caught in the rain.” She quickly apologized, setting her bag down at her desk.

You grabbed a pen out of your bag, preparing to start your notes as your professor got settled in.

“We have a surprise guest speaker today for you all, who should be here in just a minute.” She announced to the class. There was a collective sigh from the room. Guest lecturers were notoriously boring and seemed to drag on and on about nothing.

You started doodling in your notebook, mentally preparing for the longest two hours of your life.

“I know as meteorology students, you are all aware of the storm chaser Tyler Owens and his YouTube channel.” She began to introduce the guest.

A few of the students perked up at the mention of Tyler’s name, including you. You were a big fan of Tyler and watched most of his videos. You tried to not get your hopes up, assuming the guest speaker was just going to be someone on his team.

You started to zone out, your thoughts drifting to the marvelous Tyler Owens. He was a mix of supermodel meets daredevil scientist. He’d been a guilty pleasure crush of yours for a while.

You were brought out of your thoughts when you heard your professor say “Please give a warm welcome to Mr. Owens.”

Your eyes snapped up and landed on Tyler walking to the front of the room. You mentally cursed your decision to sit in the third row. You felt too exposed being somewhere that Tyler Owens could see you.

The presence of Tyler at the front of the room grabbed everyone’s attention. The few students who were fans of his work got excited to see one of their idols. The girls in the room that didn’t know who he was perked up because Tyler was the perfect mix of handsome and rugged.

“Thank you, Dr. Hannigan,” Tyler thanked your professor for introducing him.

Tyler’s eyes drifted around the room. As he became more of a niche celebrity, he was getting used to being ogled by a room full of girls. Wherever he went, there were girls waiting and drooling over him.

You sat up straighter in your seat, feeling thankful today was the day you chose to dress cuter than normal.

Tyler’s eyes landed on you. There was something different about you. All the other girls were staring at his muscles, while you weren’t an exception to that, there was more to it. You were hanging on to every word he said. He could see your interest in not just him, but what he was talking about.

His eyes ran over your body before continuing with his next point. You felt your skin heat up under his gaze. You quickly crossed your legs and tried to distract yourself from the aching between your legs.

He made a few jokes relating back to tornadoes. Each one was met with a room full of flirty giggles. Half of them didn’t even sound like they understood the jokes.

You weren’t blaming them for ogling him. His very presence in front of you made you think God was sending you a treat to apologize for how catastrophic midterm week had been.

But, you were at least paying attention to what he was talking. Some were just picturing him naked.

“So, what my team is currently working on is efforts to deescalate, or for lack of a better word, control tornadoes.” He started to explain his work. The facade of a tornado-wrangling cowboy had the entire class enthralled.

All of a sudden, before you knew what you were doing, your hand shot up in the air. You didn’t process that you’d actually have to speak to Tyler if you wanted to ask him a question.

His eyes quickly met yours. He was eager to finally have a question to answer. “Let me guess, you’re gonna say it’s science fiction? That it’s scientifically impossible?” He asked you, anticipating the usual feedback he got.

You just smirked and shook your head. “I was going to ask if your work had anything to do with the Lawson’s theory of balance and imbalance?” You asked, fidgeting with your pencil.

Tyler furrowed his brow and had to stop his jaw from dropping. It wasn’t often that people could debate back and forth with him and challenge him.

The class waited as you caught him off guard. “She’s one of our brightest students.” Dr. Hannigan said, from her desk off to the side. You felt yourself sit up a little straighter as you stumped one of your idols.

You weren’t what was Tyler was expecting at all.

“You know what? You’re absolutely spot on. You want to come up here for a second and help me out?” He asked you. The heat rushed to your cheeks and your palms started sweating.

You quickly walked down the stairs to the front of the room. Tyler eyes stayed glued to you the whole time you walked towards him. “Tyler,” He repeated with a smile, reaching out to shake your hand.

You felt goosebumps as his strong hand grabbed yours. “Y/N,” You struggled to even find the words to introduce yourself. He noticed the electricity as your fingers grazed his.

He turned his attention back to the rest of the class. “So, to accommodate for Lawson’s theory, like Y/N mentioned, we have to do the opposite of what’s expected. Storms expect things. It’s just in their nature, so you have to do the unexpected.” He explained to the class.

He turned back to you, and your heart started beating faster. “Put your hands out in front of you, palms facing down.” He quietly instructed you. You quickly followed his directions.

“So, I’m gonna push against her hands. Since she’s expecting it, she’ll push back.” He said to the class. He took his hands and rested them under yours. He nodded and smiled at you, then he started pushing up on your hands.

You pushed back down against his hands. He was careful to not push too hard because he was much stronger than you. “See, there’s equal resistance.” He said, looking at how your hands stayed in the same place.

“Okay, now we’ll do it again, but this time we’ll use this.” He told you. Then, he fished something out of his pocket, and you realized it was a blindfold. He gently pulled it over your eyes, making sure not to pull on your hair. He placed his hands under yours again.

He softly counted down for you since you couldn’t see him, “3… 2… and 1…”

Instead of pushing against your hands, Tyler grabbed your hands and let you push his hands down with your own. You stumbled forward a step since there was no resistance.

Your hands instinctively reached out to keep yourself from falling and landed on his shoulders. He quickly grabbed your forearms, steadying you. You couldn’t see him, but he was smiling at you with a look of awe. You fascinated him.

He let go of your arms after you regained your balance. “Brilliantly done,” he whispered to you as he carefully took the blindfold off of you. You felt a shiver go down your back as his breath hit your neck.

“It’s all about doing the unexpected.” He said, to the class. Then, the bell chimed throughout the hall. “Alright, see you next week. Don’t forget about the reading.” Dr. Hannigan yelled over the rush of girls swarming towards Tyler.

You hurried back to your seat to grab your backpack. As Tyler was swarmed, his eyes stayed glued on you. He watched you as you walked away, grinning to himself.

Not wanting to get caught up in the swarm of girls, you grabbed your bag and ran off to your next class. Tyler lost you in the crowd, but couldn’t get you off his mind.

You were sitting in your next class when you got an email from Dr. Hannigan. It read: “I know you all had lots of questions for Mr. Owens, so he has agreed to host office hours at 3pm today in my office.”

You felt your stomach do a flip as you thought about being in a room with him again. You debated whether or not to go. You didn’t want to get swept up in another mad frenzy of girls hitting on Tyler, but you wanted to see him again.

Once your class ended, it was like your feet had a mind of their own as you found yourself walking towards your professor’s office.

It was a small office, so you expected to see a line out the door. It was eerily quiet, and you didn’t see anyone.

Turns out, if the words weren’t coming out of Mr. Tornado Dreamboat’s mouth, your peers weren’t interested. So, none of them checked their emails.

You softly knocked on the door and heard Tyler call out, “Yeah, come in.”

You slowly opened the door and stepped inside. Tyler lit up once he saw that it was you. He’d been hoping you’d show up.

You’d expected your professor to be here as well, so your nerves got worse when you realized the two of you were alone.

He was sitting at your professor’s desk. You noticed the playing cards lying on the desk, like he’d been playing Solitaire. “Slow day?” You asked, gesturing towards the cards.

He chuckled to himself and nodded. “Yeah, you’re the first person to show up.” He said, laughing. You sat down across from him and started to feel less nervous.

The giant desk between the two of you was a good deterrent to stop you from doing anything stupid like trying to kiss him.

“Thank you for helping out in class. I was dying for somebody to ask a question. Everyone was just staring. And I’m sorry for almost making you fall.” He started making small talk. The conversation flowed really naturally.

“I’m just really fascinated by your work. I have so many questions.” You said, smiling back at him. He could see the enthusiasm on your face, and he knew you weren’t faking anything.

“Oh yeah, Dr. Hannigan sent me your midterm paper a few weeks ago. It was pretty brilliant stuff. I was trying to figure why your name sounded familiar. I think that’s why. You should come out for a ride sometime. Get some field experience. I’d love to take you.” He praised you.

You couldn’t help but get a little bashful. Your idol, who you had a massive crush on, was praising your work and wanted to work with you. The thought of spending time alone with Tyler out in the field was enough to make your stomach do flips.

“You really read my paper? I brought it with me. I wanted to ask your opinion on some things.” You said, grabbing your paper out of your bag. He nodded, enthusiastically.

He wheeled his chair around to your side of the desk, so he was sitting right next to you. Your nerves that had been starting to fade were back in full force. It was different when Tyler was two inches away from you. He leaned his arms on the desk, his one arm pressing up against yours.

You could smell his cologne, and it was all you could think about. Your mind was just a blur of cedar and hints of vanilla. “So, I umm…what I wa-wanted to show you was…” you mumbled, flipping through your paper.

Tyler softly smirked to himself. He interrupted you and put his hand on top of your paper, forcing you to look at him. “Do I really make you that nervous?” He asked you, barely above a whisper.

Your eyes were glued on his. His deep emerald eyes drawing you in. You couldn’t even muster up a response. You were speechless as you watched how intently he stared back at you.

“Yeah? I make you nervous, honey?” He asked, in a softer tone. The pet name took you by surprise. A muffled whine escaped your lips. You hadn’t realized you made the sound until you heard it. He held your chin, stopping you from looking away.

You quickly crossed your legs, trying to ignore the way he was making you feel. He brushed a piece of hair out of your face.

“I guess we’ll just have to find a way to loosen you up then.” He teased. The words went straight to your core.

Tyler watched the way you swallowed as you tried to collect your thoughts. “I need to know if you’re okay with this, honey. Gotta use your words,” he coaxed you.

“Please, Tyler,” you begged him.

He smirked and grabbed your hips. He effortlessly picked you up and sat you on the edge of the desk. “You were distracting me so badly when I was giving my lecture. I couldn’t take my eyes off you.” He said, toying with the hem of your skirt.

Tyler didn’t believe his ears when he heard you whimper. His eyes shot up to lock onto yours. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take real good care of you.” He assured you.

He pressed sloppy kisses along your jawline. You raked your fingers down Tyler’s back. He continued to play with the fabric of your skirt. With a burst of confidence, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your bare upper thigh, under your skirt.

Tyler stopped kissing you. A cocky grin grew on his face. “That was so fuckin’ hot,” he groaned, kissing your lips. You hungrily kissed him back. His thumb caressed the inside of your thigh.

Following your lead, he let his hand sneak higher up your leg. He could feel you getting more desperate. As his hand got closer to where you wanted him most, he could feel your skin growing hot.

He ran his thumb over your panties, feeling a small wet spot. Your moan was muffled as he kissed you.

He started to pull your panties to the side, and you both heard the doorknob start to jiggle.

You both quickly pulled apart, and he set you on the ground. You managed to quickly smooth out your skirt and grab your backpack.

The door opened, and you recognized one of your classmates. “Hey, welcome in,” Tyler waved at them, pretending he wasn’t pissed that you got interrupted.

You watched as Tyler discreetly wiped his hand on the back of his jeans. “Those were all the questions I had. Thank you for your help.” You thanked Tyler before rushing out the door.

Tyler wanted to run after you, but he couldn’t now that someone was watching.

You practically ran back to your apartment. You didn’t want to show your face. Of course, no one knew about your meeting with Tyler, but you felt like everyone knew.

You were worried that other student found the whole thing suspicious. And what if he told your classmates or Dr. Hannigan? Soon, the whole campus would know you were the girl that tried to fuck a guest lecturer.

You spent the evening binge watching your favorite tv show. You hoped it would distract you from your embarrassment, but it didn’t. You were brought out of your thoughts when you got another email from Dr. Hannigan.

“Good evening class. I’m glad you all enjoyed the guest lecturer today. Mr. Owens told me he was very impressed by all of you and your interesting questions. I forgot to mention it in class, but his team currently is seeking an intern to work with them over spring break. I highly recommend that all of you apply. You can email Mr. Owens at [email protected]. Best, Dr. Hannigan.”

You stared at the email address, deciding what to do. It would be a great opportunity. Tyler could really teach you a lot. But now, the thought of seeing Tyler made you want to hide in your bed.

You quickly deleted the email, so you couldn’t change your mind and went to bed.

The next two weeks were completely normal. You’d almost completely forgotten about your almost-hookup with Tyler. The only time he popped in your head was when you were lying awake at night. You couldn’t get the thoughts of his fingers out of your head.

It was all fine. Until, Dr. Hannigan stopped you after class.

“Is this about my assignment? I know it was a few hours late. I’ve just been a little distracted recently. It won’t happen again.” You quickly apologized.

Dr. Hannigan shook her head. “Mr. Owens reached out to me about you.” She told you. You panicked.

“What did he say?” You asked, trying to not sound too desperate.

There was no reason for Tyler to tell Dr. Hannigan about your almost-quickie. What if there were cameras? What if she knew? What if you got expelled? Your mind raced with different worst case scenarios.

“He said he was expecting you to apply for the internship, but he didn’t see an application from you. He was really impressed with your midterm paper, and he said the internship was yours if you wanted it. I think this would be a great opportunity for you, but it’s up to you. So, what should I tell him?” She asked you.

You were extremely flattered. Tyler wasn’t trying to avoid you. In fact, he basically had handpicked you to come work with him. You could turn it down.

“You can tell him I would love the opportunity.” You said, smiling at her.

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haeiheart · 3 months ago

Text

LEE DONGHYUCK | NOT A BIG DEAL

LEE DONGHYUCK

SUMMARY: You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. Best friends who stick together through every minor inconvenience, every 2 AM fast-food run, and especially every party. Their little deal? If they’re both single and drunk at a party, they make out for a good time and purely to avoid awkward hookups with strangers. No feelings, no complications. It’s a good deal no? But when a new guy, Jeno, enters y/n life just like that. They both feel that for the first time, their “not a big deal” deal feels like it might’ve always been something bigger.

GENRE: friends to lovers - kind of fwb hyuckyn - jealous avoidant hyuck! - sweet jeno - minimal angst - slight reader x jeno.

NOTES: first time releasing a full written fic… bye im scared pls be kind (◞‸◟；) also first time making a header? design?? hehehehe. I hope you guys enjoy this though, i personally enjoyed written it so i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed making it for you guys!! :3 THIS IS NOT PROOFREAD SO IM SORRY IF THERES ANY ERRORS >_<

WORD COUNT: 3.8k

BEFORE THE PARTY

You and Hyuck have always been inseparable. The best of friends. The kind who finish each other’s sentences, send texts at the exact same time, and know each other’s go-to orders at every café on campus. It’s always been easy with hyuck. You don’t overthink things with him.

That’s why your little pact made perfect sense.

“If we’re both single, and we’re both at a party, and we’re both drunk, we find each other.”

It wasn’t some deep, life changing agreement. It was just a way to keep each other from making bad decisions with strangers. A safety net, nothing more. It always worked. Every single time. It was the perfect deal after all, you both get the pleasure needed in a fun night out. No commitment, no feelings.

Until tonight. But let’s rewind back a couple of weeks.

The day you met Lee Jeno.

3 WEEKS AGO @NCU CAMPUS

College life has always been a blur of assignments, late-night food runs, and whatever chaos Hyuck drags you into. Between classes and parties, your days feel like a well-balanced mix of stress and fun. Thank goodness you had your best friend to keep you sane right?

You first met Jeno during an elective course, one of those random classes you picked to fill credits unfortunately. He was the kind of guy who didn’t talk much but somehow made every conversation feel important. You sat next to him out of convenience, and it wasn’t until the next few classes that you really spoke to him, which was currently right now.

“Do you always write your notes like that?” he had asked, glancing at your mess of shorthand scribbles and little doodles in the margins. You could tell he wanted to laugh at it.

You blinked at him, caught off guard. “Uh… yeah?”

He grinned. “It’s interesting. You do know this is a literature class, right? Because your notes look more like a doodle coloring book for toddlers my baby brother's age rather than actual notes.”

You snorted. “Well, you look like you should be in an engineering class, not here.”

“I was forced to take a humanities elective,” he admitted. “But it’s not bad. I like the class.”

“Because of the material or because of me?” you teased, raising a brow.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Guess you’ll have to find out.”

And just like that, Jeno slipped into your life.

The thing about him was that he never tried too hard, he didn’t force his presence, didn’t demand attention the way Hyuck did. He was just… there. Reliable. Easy to talk to. It was easy to get hooked on a guy like Jeno.

You started walking out of class together, grabbing coffee before your next lectures. You studied together, shared snacks, exchanged casual texts that eventually turned into daily check-ins. Somewhere along the way, you got comfortable with him. But it wasn’t until one particular afternoon that you noticed something else.

OPEN FIELD STUDY AREA @NCU CAMPUS

It was another dreadful afternoon, pilled with assignments you swore just appeared in front of your face. You and Jeno were sitting outside on campus, reviewing notes. Though half the time you guys were mostly making corny jokes and laughing at shared interests. That was until Hyuck showed up unannounced, like he always did, dropping himself onto the bench next to you with a dramatic sigh.

“What’s up, losers?” he greeted, snatching one of your fries before you could react, looking as happy as always to mess with your little head.

You rolled your eyes as a faint smile appears on your face. It’s been awhile since you saw him. “Hyuck, this is a study session. You know, where people focus?”

“Sounds lame,” he deadpanned, then turned to Jeno. “So, how do you put up with this one?”

Jeno smirked. “I think she puts up with me.”

Hyuck’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the slight pause—the way his fingers drummed against his knee a little too fast, the way his jaw tightened for just a second. It was so quick that you almost missed it. Almost.

But then, as fast as it came, it was gone. Hyuck smirked, leaning back on his elbows. “Well, good luck, man. She’s a handful.” You smacked his arm, rolling your eyes again, but the feeling lingered. Hyuck only stuck around for a short while and you never questioned it, but the odd part was he was too quick to leave the setting as well. Feeling lost as he suddenly got up and fled the scene after saying his byes and ruffling your hair.

After that, things felt… different. Not drastically. Not in a way you could point to and say, this is where everything changed. But the subtle things. Like how Hyuck stopped crashing your study sessions with Jeno as often. How he’d make jokes about you “ditching” him but never say it outright. How he seemed to drink more at parties, getting reckless in a way that made you worry.

It wasn’t obvious, but it was there, buried beneath layers of laughter and banter. And maybe you noticed it too late.

@NEOCAFE - 127 DISTRICT

Hyuck doesn’t text first anymore.

That’s the first thing you notice.

You tell yourself it doesn’t matter, you’ve been busy anyway. School, assignments, late-night study sessions with Jeno. But the silence sits in your chest like a weight, pressing down heavier each day. You truly did miss your best friend, nobody else was as much of a dork loser like he was.

You still see him around. In class, at parties, in the spaces you used to share. But it’s different now.

No more texts that say where are you? when you take too long to respond. No more arms slung over your shoulder as he drags you out of the library for a “much-needed” break. No more late-night walks, just because neither of you wanted to go home yet. God you truly did miss lee donghyuck.

The worst part? You know it’s your fault. You were the one who stopped looking for him first. You were the one who let the space between you grow. And now, you don’t know how to close it.

Jeno Notices “You’ve been quiet lately.” Jeno’s voice is gentle, his eyes scanning your face as you stare blankly at your untouched coffee. It’s the third time he’s caught you zoning out in the past hour and he was getting worried.

You blink, forcing a small smile. “Just tired.”

He doesn’t buy it. You can tell by the way he tilts his head, studying you. “It’s about Hyuck, isn’t it?” The words hit you like a punch to the stomach. You exhale, looking away. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just nods, as if he already knew. And maybe he did. Maybe everyone did. You’ve spent so much time pretending things are fine that you almost forgot Jeno sees right through you.

So when he reaches out, fingers brushing over yours, you don’t pull away. Infact you allow yourself to get embraced by his comfort. Was Jeno’s comfort what you needed all this time?

@YOUR APARTMENT

The thing about Jeno is that he never rushes anything.

Not his words, not his movements, nothing. He lets things happen as they are, as if he trusts time to work things out on its own. Which is probably why being around him feels so easy, you always had a smile on your face when you were with him.

Like now, for example. You’re both sitting on the floor of your dorm, backs against the couch, a half-empty bag of chips between you. You’ve been talking for what feels like hours—about everything and nothing all at once.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeno says, holding up a hand to stop you mid-story, his eyes already crinkling in amusement. “You mean to tell me you climbed a tree to save a cat, but then got stuck yourself?”

You groan, covering your face. “Okay, listen—”

“No, no, no, I need to process this.” He grins, resting his chin on his palm. “How long were you up there?”

“Like… twenty minutes?” you mumble, cheeks burning from embarrassment clearly…

Jeno loses it. He tilts his head back, laughing so hard his shoulders shake. You gotta admit that laugh of his does wonders to girls. He was a real catch. A once in a lifetime cutie, you should consider yourself lucky to have him around right?

You huff, crossing your arms. “Are you done?”

He wipes at his eyes, still chuckling. “Oh man. I- yeah. Yeah, I think I’m good.” He snickers again. “Twenty minutes. Amazing.”

You try to glare at him, but his laugh is infectious, and soon enough, you’re giggling too.

Jeno turns to look at you, a soft smile lingering on his lips. “Y’know, I think this is the most I’ve ever heard you talk about yourself.”

You blink. “Huh?”

“I mean, you’re always talking about Hyuck or your friends, but I like hearing about you.” He leans against the couch, watching you. “Your dumb little childhood stories. Your love for cats. Your terrible decision-making skills.”

You snort, nudging his leg with your foot. “You’re such a menace.”

“And you love it.”

You shake your head, smiling. “I might.”

Jeno tilts his head, studying you for a second. His voice is quieter when he speaks again. “Are you okay?”

The question catches you off guard. You consider lying, but Jeno has always been good at seeing through people. So you exhale, looking down at your hands.

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I just feel… lost.”

Jeno doesn’t say anything right away. He just shifts a little closer, his knee bumping against yours. You don’t realize how much you needed that until it happens.

“I get that,” he finally says. “Sometimes it feels like you’re walking through fog, and you don’t know where you’re going. But…” He nudges you lightly. “That doesn’t mean you’re alone.”

You look up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He smiles, warm and genuine. “I’m here.” You don’t know what possesses you to do it—maybe it’s the way his voice is so steady, so sure. Maybe it’s the way he’s looking at you, like you’re important. But before you can overthink it, you lean in.

Jeno’s eyes widen slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, his lips quirk up in amusement.

“You’re not about to kiss me mid-existential crisis, are you?”

You let out a breathless laugh. “Shut up.”

But he’s still grinning when he finally closes the distance. The kiss is soft, almost hesitant at first. But then you feel him smile against your lips, and suddenly, it’s all laughter and warmth and the taste of leftover chips.

You break apart for air, and Jeno chuckles. “That was—”

You groan, covering your face. “Don’t say it.”

“— surprisingly nice for two people who just ate sour cream and onion chips.”

You swat at him, laughing. “You ruined it.”

He catches your wrist, grinning. “Nah. That made it better.”

You shake your head, still breathless, still here. Jeno doesn’t fail to make your day once again, as he leans in, continuing where you both had left off as if it was almost natural.

And for the first time in a while, you don’t feel so lost.

PRESENT TIME

And this is how your weeks have been spent. With Lee Jeno. Full of kisses, laughter, playfulness, and comfort. Jeno arrives with an armful of snacks, two sodas balanced precariously on top. “Alright, before we do anything, I have to ask…why do you have like, seven different cat towers in your apartment? Are they that spoiled?” as he takes in his surroundings once again.

You shut the door behind him and scoff. “Excuse you, my children deserve the best.”

Jeno grins, setting the snacks down. “How many do you have again?”

“Three.” You sigh dramatically. “But honestly, I think my oldest cat hates me.”

He snorts. “Why?”

“Because I accidentally stepped on her tail when she was a kitten, and she’s never forgiven me.” You flop onto the couch, pouting. “Now every time I call her, she looks at me like I owe her child support.” Jeno bursts out laughing, nearly knocking over the bag of chips. “That’s the most you thing I’ve ever heard.”

You nudge him with your foot. “Oh, shut up. You’ve definitely done worse.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Doubt it.”

“Oh really? What’s the dumbest injury you’ve ever had?”

He thinks for a moment before admitting, “I once tried to jump over my couch but tripped, hit my head on the armrest, and passed out.”

You gasp. “Wait—like, fully unconscious?”

“Yup.” He sighs. “Woke up two minutes later to my mom yelling at me for being stupid.”

You’re already laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “Okay, okay, once, when I was seven, I thought I could ride my bike down the biggest hill in my neighborhood with my eyes closed.”

Jeno’s eyes widen. “No. No.”

“Yes,” you wheeze. “Flew straight into a bush. My mom had to pull twigs out of my hair for an hour.”

He practically collapses against the couch, laughing until his shoulders shake. “You’re actually crazy as a kid.”

“Thank you,” you say proudly.

The laughter fades into a comfortable silence. Jeno leans back, staring at the ceiling. “You know, I never really asked—but what was Hyuck like when you were kids?”

You hesitate, but the memories come easily. “Chaotic. Loud. Got us into trouble, like, every other day. He would drag me into the most ridiculous situations and it wasn’t even my fault.”

Jeno smirks. “Sounds about right.”

You smile softly. “One time, we thought we could build a pillow fort. We barely even got the first pillow up before the entire thing collapsed and we both fell.”

He laughs. “Did you get hurt?”

“Surprisingly, no. But Hyuck cried for a full hour because he swore it was sabotage.”

Jeno shakes his head, amused. “He hasn’t changed at all, has he?”

“Nope.” You pick at a loose thread on your sleeve. “He’s always been… Hyuck.”

There’s a pause, but Jeno doesn’t push. He just watches you, waiting.

You clear your throat. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

He hums, tapping his chin. “Alright. You know how everyone thinks I’m all sporty and serious?”

“Yeah?”

“Well.” He leans in like he’s about to share a top-secret confession. “I used to write fanfiction.”

You choke on your drink. “No way.”

“Oh, it gets worse.” He sighs dramatically. “It was about superheroes.”

“What kind? Marvel? DC?”

“Neither. Completely original characters. I had a whole series.”

You clutch your stomach from laughing so hard. “Jeno. Are you telling me you were a self-insert superhero fanfic writer?”

He groans, covering his face. “Look, I was twelve—”

“NO, THIS IS AMAZING.” You grab his arm. “Did you give yourself powers? A tragic backstory?”

He peeks at you between his fingers. “…Both.”

You collapse into the couch, wheezing. “This might be the best thing I’ve ever learned about you.”

He grins. “Alright, your turn. What’s your cringiest secret?”

You pause, then admit, “Okay this might not be cringy… but i had a harry potter phase.”

Jeno gasps, clutching his chest. “What house were you in?”

“…Slytherin.”

He high-fives you. “Respect.”

The conversation keeps flowing, lighthearted and easy. You talk about everything, old childhood memories, embarrassing moments, ridiculous hypothetical scenarios (what would you do if you woke up as a worm?), and somehow, even the meaning of life.

It’s fun. It’s comfortable.

But beneath it all, there’s something bittersweet.

Because you both know this is goodbye.

Eventually, the night slows down. The laughter fades, leaving only the quiet hum of the TV in the background. You shift, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “Jeno…”

He already knows. You can see it in his expression.

Still, he lets you say it.

“I have to go find him,” you admit softly.

A beat of silence.

Then he smiles? He smiles. A small, knowing smile. “Yeah.”

You swallow hard. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know.” His voice is gentle. “You never had to say it, y/n. I knew.”

Your throat tightens. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He reaches for your hand, squeezing it lightly. “But… can I ask for one last thing?”

You nod, already knowing what it is.

“One last kiss,” he murmurs.

So you kiss him.

It’s soft, lingering. A silent thank you. A quiet goodbye.

When you pull away, he exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well. That was a solid 9/10.”

You snort. “Only 9?”

“Could’ve been a 10, but my foot fell asleep.”

You smack his arm, laughing. “Shut up.”

He grins. “Go. Before I change my mind and challenge Hyuck to a duel.”

You roll your eyes, but you’re already reaching for your shoes.

And as you step out the door, heart racing, you realize—

This time, you’re going to run toward Hyuck.

Because he’s always been the one and it’s about time you told him.

@HYUCKS HOUSE

You don’t know why you’re nervous.

Actually, scratch that—you do know why.

Because this is Hyuck.

Because it’s been weeks. Because you let the distance grow, and now you’re about to do the most humiliating thing possible: show up at his door in the middle of the night, probably looking like a disaster, and pour your heart out.

Great plan. Really solid. No notes.

Still, you knock.

And the second the door swings open, all your thoughts evaporate.

Hyuck stands there, hoodie slightly rumpled, his hair sticking up like he was asleep before you interrupted. His face is groggy, blinking at you like he’s trying to make sure you’re real.

“…y/n?”

You open your mouth.

And immediately start crying.

Like, full-on tears. Embarrassing.

Hyuck panics. “Wait, huh, are you okay??”

You sniff, waving your hands wildly. “I— hiccup— I don’t know why I’m crying!”

His hands move without hesitation, reaching for your arms, steadying you. “Hey, hey, what’s going on?” His grip is warm, grounding. “Did something happen?”

You shake your head rapidly, but the tears won’t stop. God you really missed him.

Hyuck makes a helpless noise before sighing and tugging you against him. His arms wrap around you, firm but careful, like he’s worried you might break.

You bury your face in his hoodie, gripping the fabric tightly.

Hyuck rubs your back in slow circles. “Okay. Just—breathe, yeah?”

You sniffle, nodding against his chest. His warmth seeps into your skin, comforting in a way nothing else has been these past few weeks.

And then, before he can say anything else, the words just spill out.

“I just— Hyuck, I missed you.”

His hold on you tightens for a second before he pulls back slightly, just enough to see your face. His brows furrow, but he stays quiet, letting you talk.

“You’re— you’re so important to me, okay? And I hate that I let us drift apart. And I hate that I didn’t realize sooner that you are—” You hiccup again, rubbing at your face. “I don’t even know what I’m saying, I just miss you so much, and everything sucks without you, and I—”

Hyuck suddenly squints at you. “…Are you drunk?”

You freeze. “What?”

“You’re being so dramatic right now.” His lips twitch like he’s holding back laughter. “You have to be drunk.”

You gape at him. “I am not drunk, you absolute—”

“I dunno…” He crosses his arms, pretending to analyze you as he leans closer to your face. “Messy hair, teary eyes, emotional confessions in the dead of night… this is very intoxicated behavior.”

You groan, shoving at his shoulder. “I swear I’m sober—”

“Alright, c’mon, Crybaby.” He snickers, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside. “At least cry in my room instead of my doorstep.”

You let him drag you in, still sniffling as he kicks the door shut behind you.

And just like that, you’re home.

Hyuck flops onto his bed, patting the space next to him. “C’mere, you baby.” You roll your eyes but sit down anyway, pulling your knees to your chest.

Silence settles between you. Not awkward, not tense. Just… there.

Hyuck sighs, tilting his head toward you. “You really missed me that much?”

You swallow, nodding. “Yeah.”

He watches you for a moment, then scoffs lightly. “Idiot. I was always here, y’know.”

Your heart clenches. “I know. I was just—”

“Being dumb?”

You groan. “Yes, okay! I was being dumb.”

Hyuck smirks, but it softens as he nudges your knee with his. “It sucked without you, too.”

Your breath catches. “Yeah?”

“Obviously.” He huffs, looking away like admitting it pains him. “Who else was gonna make me leave my apartment and go on stupid 2AM snack runs?”

You let out a small laugh. “You love those snack runs.”

“Yeah, but I love them with you.”

You freeze.

Hyuck doesn’t seem to notice what he just said, or maybe he does, because he clears his throat quickly and sits up straighter. “Anyway. What was up with that dramatic monologue outside? You really that miserable without me?”

You hesitate, then nod. “Yeah.”

He blinks.

You sigh, rubbing your arms. “Hyuck, you’re— you’re my person.” You glance at him, eyes searching. “You always have been.” You meant it.

Something shifts in his expression.

For the first time all night, he’s quiet.

Your heart pounds. “I—”

“Wait.” He suddenly lifts a hand, stopping you. Then, deadpan— “Are you sure you’re not drunk?”

You groan, shoving his face away. “Hyuck!”

He bursts into laughter, eyes crinkling at the corners.

And even though you’re this close to smacking him, you realize—

This is why you came back.

Because no one makes your heart race and your soul feel alive like Lee Donghyuck. You don’t even realize how close you’ve gotten until his laughter fades, leaving only the soft hum of the night around you. His gaze flickers to your lips, then back to your eyes.

A beat of silence.

Then, like it’s the most natural thing in the world, he leans in.

And you meet him halfway.

The kiss is warm, slow— like a quiet understanding. Like something that had always been there, waiting to be noticed. It wasn’t like all the other kisses, the party hookups. This was real.

His hand comes up to cup your face, thumb brushing lightly over your cheek. He tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss just a little, enough to make your breath hitch.

When you finally pull away, he exhales, pressing his forehead against yours.

“…Yup.” He grins. “You definitely weren’t supposed to kiss me like that if you were drunk.”

You laugh softly, still slightly breathless. “Shut up.”

He hums, thumb still stroking your cheek. “Not a chance.”

And this time, when he kisses you again, neither of you stop to think.

Because for once, nothing else matters.

NOTES: I wouldve wrote longer but my brain fogged oops but i hope you guys enjoyed!!

#lee donghyuck #nct donghyuck #haechan #lee haechan #nct dream #nct 127 #haechan fluff #haechan angst #donghyuck x reader #nct dream donghyuck #nct #nct x reader

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the-odd-shu · 6 months ago

Text

Sky regrets trying to play wingman

A continuation of lab shenanigans.

Masterlist

Next part

Characters: Viktor, Jayce, Reader, Sky

(Pre-Jayce/Viktor/Reader) (POLYCULEEEE!)

Summary: A sketchbook goes missing, Viktor and Jayce feel soft about it and Sky is fighting for her life.

Note; this takes place during season 1, and the reader is gender neutral with they/them pronouns.

Lab Illustrator!Reader has a secret A5 sketchbook they don't use for assignments. It's a small thing, that they keep tucked beneath all of their other paperwork during the day, and take home with them every night.

It is as non-descript as sketchbooks come, with a plain, black cover and pages brimming with hundreds of sketches and stuck in sheets of paper.

But what makes it different from their professional sketchbook, you ask? And why does it need to be a secret?

Well, because it is a notebook solely dedicated to drawings and doodles of their co-workers. And neither of them know that Reader has been drawing them.

There are hundreds of stolen moments stuffed between these pages. Late night coffee breaks, where the pencil lines are thick and dark to accentuate the dimness of the lab against the stark light leaking out of the kitchenette, where backs are turned and coffee mugs steam, whilst eyes fall to half-mast from the sheer weight of the late hour.

There are a dozen or so slower, more carefully done doodles of Jayce sprawled out across the lab couch in various positions. Several cane studies, because Viktor had a habit of leaving it in more and more odd places when he has had a breakthrough, and sheer determination and spite keep him standing unaided before the whiteboard.

There are pages dedicated to Viktor reading. And pages brimming with Jayce's broad shoulders and winning smile.

There is a double page spread of Viktor stood before the chalkboard, cane in one hand, his other tucked under his chin with a piece of chalk tucked between two of his fingers, his lips pursed in thought as he tried to find a solution to the problem before him. The lines of this sketch are soft and gentle, almost dreamlike, as the image was teased out of the page.

The pages directly after it show a heavy handed pen drawing of Jayce bent over his desk, goggles over his eyes, his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he welds pieces of metal together. A single, loose curl of hair having broken free of its slicked back appearance, and is now sprawled cutely down his forehead.

And that's only the beginning.

Neither of them know that Reader draws them. As far as they know, Reader can't even draw people. And Reader wants to keep it that way. Because if EITHER of them found the sketchbook, they just KNOW they would not let them live it down. Jayce would be embarrassed, no doubt asking stupid questions like, 'is my nose really like that from that angle' or 'why didn't you tell me I had soot on my cheek', which, how dare he, you'd spent hours learning how to draw him and picking out imperfections was just an insult to your skills. Whilst Viktor would make fun of your subject choices, and then make it one hundred times harder to sketch him without him getting suspicious and catching on and deliberately moving around MORE to make it seventeen times more difficult.

Out of everyone in the lab, Sky was the only other person remotely artistically inclined. She'd shown an interest in your work one afternoon, and let slip that she liked to draw in her spare time. And although she insisted her work was nothing like your professional illustrations, they were good! And you told her as such.

Unofficially, the pair of you had begun taking your lunches outside in the academy gardens together to chat and draw. She did not look it, but Sky was a mean gossip, and seemed to know everything that was going on in the science department. Such as who in the academy was currently trying to court who, or the latest experiment that blew up (literally) in a freshman's face, or that Councillor Medarda herself dabbled in painting.

The last one certainly caught your attention more than the drama on campus, which of course Sky was more than happy to provide more details for. Apparently, the Councillor's paintings were bold and striking. Depicting scenes from her childhood lands, and figures dressed in traditional Noxian-style garbs.

"Gorgeous, simply gorgeous." Sky said, tone bordering on wistful. "And large too. Councillor Medarda works on such a large scale, that some of her pieces literally command your attention the moment you step into the room. I'm sure you can talk Jayce into getting you a glimpse of some of her works. He and the Councillor have been growing close lately."

You ignored the suggestive hint to her voice, in favour of humming noncommittally and finishing up your lastest sketch of Sky perched on the wall beside you, waving her sandwich around as she talked animatedly. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn't notice she was watching, when you flipped back towards the front of your sketchbook, only for her to choke on her next bite.

“Wait!" She blurted out between sharp coughing. "Is that Viktor!?” And then suddenly your sketchbook was no longer on your lap and the apprentice of the man you were always drawing was flipping through the pages. The pages that HEAVILY featured Viktor's face.

Your cheeks burned, and lunged for the sketchbook out of sheer panic, as Sky began discovering just how MANY sketches of Viktor you've been hoarding and that he's not the ONLY ONE you've been drawing.

"Jayce too I see." She mused, more to herself than you. And then she snorted. "Why are there so many?”

“Because I get bored sometimes, and they're always just there!" You defend yourself guiltily. "It's good anatomy practice.”

Which wasn't technically a lie. The lines never came as easily as they did when you’re sketching your co-workers. So much so, that now, it had almost become instinct to know when your pencil had drawn a line wrong, even before you glanced back to the reference themselves to check. The pair of them were just so effortlessly beautiful in their own ways. It would a a crime for you <i>not</i> to draw them, and focus solely on the things you're SUPPOSED to be illustrating instead.

Sky hummed along, having paused on a page with a rapid, barely recognisable pen sketch of Jayce ducking away with a cackling laugh as a furious Viktor swung his cane at his head. Her fingers idly slid down the sketchy lines, a fondness to her expression.

"Have you shown them these?" Sky asked, "they're really good. All loose and fun. I can practically hear Jayce laughing in this one with how you captured his expression."

“Of course not!" You were quick to deny as your cheeks heated. "Do you know how embarrassing it is to show someone you’ve drawn them? Jayce will pretend to be all impressed but subconsciously begin to pick out all the things I got wrong. Like the shape of his ears. And Viktor will tell me it's 'lovely' without looking up from his textbook."

You shuddered at the very thought, already seeing Viktor's disinterested frown and Jayce's tight grimace in your mind's eye.

Sky frowned, her eyes jumping between your down turned expression and the sketchbook in her hands. “I dunno about that."

“Can I have it back now?” She shook her head and went back to flipping through the pages, the other half of her sandwich forgotten in her lap. “You know, I think Viktor would be flattered if he knew you paid so much attention to him. And Jayce would probably try to steal a couple of these and frame them for his desk.” You scoffed.

Sky's frown deepened. "Why are you having such a hard time believing they might like these?"

“Because in the end it doesn’t matter how they'd react,” you decided sharply, “because they're not going to find out. Are they, Sky?”

“You’ve even drawn Viktor's canes!”

“Sky, focus!” “I am focused- IS THAT A JAYCE HAND STUDY-?!”

"OKAY ENOUGH OF THAT FROM YOU!" You tackled her, and she went down screeching, drawing the attention of several passing students as the pair of you fell cleaningly off of the wall and landed in the flowerbeds below.

Sky did not keep her promise.

After a week or two of waiting to give the impression she'd forgotten about the whole ordeal, she sprung into action.

It was obvious now that she knew just how much Reader paid attention to their co-workers. It seemed like they were constantly sketching the boys throughout the day, a private, fond smile on their stupidly love-struck expression, as their pencil flew across the page, documenting coffee breaks and break throughs, and verbal spats. Now Sky has noticed that they did it, she couldn't stop seeing it, and it is driving her crazy. All three of them are so oblivious, and watching her superiors pine for one another whilst doing nothing to move things forward, was NOT the working environment she'd been hoping for during this internship.

So she took matters into her own hands.

When the hour was late, and the lights were dim, Jayce passed out at his desk for a quick nap, Viktor's attention on his textbooks at the chalkboard, and Reader in the kitchen cracking open a can of energy, Sky sidled over to the latter's desk. Her eyes immediately clocked the little, black sketchbook, easily overlooked amongst the other papers and opened notebooks with half complete drawings scrawled all over the place. It was a testament to how much they trusted each other in the lab, that no one questioned why she was lingering so close to a desk that was not her own.

It almost made it too easy for her to simply pluck the sketchbook out of the pile, add it to her pile of library books already balanced in one hand, all before loudly calling "good night" to the room and leaving.

Sky planned to be the first person in the next morning to plant the sketchbook, but the lab doors were unlocked when she turned up, and all three of her superiors were already in the room, looking in various states of exhaustion. Did they even go home last night?

Not to mention, half of the lab looked like a hoard of dogs had come tearing through. Come to think of it, Reader's desk was especially messy, with papers strewn everywhere and the drawers hanging on just barely- oh fuck! They had already noticed, hadn't they?

"Ah Sky, good morning." Viktor acknowledged her from where he was calmly sorting through a stack of books. Picking one up, and shaking it out before placing it onto a second stack and picking up the next. "Right on time." "Good morning," Sky greeted calmly, "what's going on here?" She motioned to the war zone that was the lab. To Jayce balanced precariously on a chair, checking a high book shelf, and the frantic shuffling sounds of Reader under their desk. They were out of view, but somehow, Sky could just envision the frenzy in their expression from the sound of their searching alone.

"Ah, well, Y/n appears to have misplaced a rather important sketchbook."

There was a yelp as a skull collided with the underside of a desk, before Reader's head popped up over the edge. "Sky! I can't find it!"

"Oh no." Sky replied, trying to ignore the burning weight of the 'it' in question, currently hiding in her backpack. "Where did you see it last?"

"They insisted it was on their desk." Jayce interjected, hopping down from his chair with a shake of his head.

"But I'm assuming it's grown legs," Sky joked, "judging by that picked over, barely standing, mess of a desk."

"This isn't funny Sky."

"No, you're right." She put down her backpack and began to help in the search. After all, not doing so would immediately out her as guilty, and she'd already come this far, why stop now. "Come on, it can't have gone far."

Of course, Viktor discovered it amongst his books and papers a couple of days later.

It was during one of those rare hours in the lab when he was alone. The hour was late, but the curtains were not yet drawn despite the darkening sky.

He frowned when his fingers brushed the unfamiliar notebook, tucked behind a stack of textbooks and scrunched up balls of notes. Pulling it out of its hiding place, his brows furrowed as his eyes tracked the state it was in. How the edges of the hardback covers were creased from numerous journeys in bags, whilst pencils marks and scuffs from countless hours of being opened and used, marred the covers.

At first, he assumed it was one of Jayce’s notebook. The material was expensive enough. Definitely of high quality. The paper itself was thick when he rubbed his finger along a page. But when he opened it, he quickly realised the pages are not lined, and were once blank before they had been filled in with hundreds of drawings.

The first few pages were illustrations of everything under the sun. Still life drawings. Animals. People. Silhouettes. Isolated body parts with detailed annotations encircling them, such as the names of muscles and tiny corrective comments like ‘fingers too long’ or ‘that muscle doesn’t stretch that far’.

Then he turned a page, and was met with himself. And then Jayce. And then more and more sketches of himself and Jayce. Sometimes together and interacting. Sometimes just existing.

The drawings were skilfully done, as all of Reader's illustrations tended to be. A little rough in the beginning, from rushed pen strokes. But then the artist seemed to understand something. A break through of sorts, and he recognised himself more and more. The sketches held his likeness. From the way he stood, to the slouch of him sitting at his desk, to the way his hand held something as simple as a stick of chalk.

They were always sketches from behind or a side profile. Never head on. And any that did depict him as facing the artist, were drawn when his attention was elsewhere; focused down at a textbook, or fixing something on the table.

It was flattering really. He looked good in the drawings. Confident, with an authoritative aura. Seemingly engrossed in every task he sat down to complete.

And Jayce, Jayce looks good in his drawings too. His sunny personality shining through in drawings where he was animatedly talking or debating with sketched Viktor. There seems to be a whole double page spread trying to figure out the shape of his slicked back hair, and then even more drawings of the gel softening throughout the day, causing strands to fall down around his ears and frame his eyes.

But what really catches Viktor's attention was the way the artist had caught their interactions. The way they have depicted Jayce's softened eyes when looking at Viktor when his attention was elsewhere. The way they caught Viktor's private little smile when Jayce got lost in a muttering spell and stopped including Viktor in the debate. It left him feeling a little raw in truth, like this person had seen something no one else had taken the time to notice before.

No wonder Reader had been so adamant about finding this sketchbook. This must have been hours upon hours of careful work.

Carefully, Viktor closed the sketchbook and sat back in his chair. It felt heavy in his hands, and he almost didn't want to put it down.

The door to the lab swung open then, and Jayce called out a greeting.

"What you got there V?"

And of course, Viktor was contractually obligated to show him. It would simply be criminal if he didn't show his partner just how well their resident illustrator managed to capture his winning smile. A much more accurate depiction of it, compared to the 'man of progress' merchandise the academy sold nowadays.

The sketchbook continued to go unfound.

Reader was growing more and more distraught.

The guilt gnawed at Sky and she confessed.

All hell broke loose.

An hour later, Skye came SPRINTING into the lab, the double doors CRASHING into the walls in her haste to get into the room.

Both Viktor and Jayce jumped in their seats in the kitchenette. Viktor barely managing to keep from spilling his sweetmilk everywhere. And Jayce almost THREW the little black sketchbook across the room, where he had been admiring its pages.

“Woah there, where’s the fire?” Jayce tried to joke, but Sky looked GENUINELY scared.

“Sorry! Sorry! I left something in here, and the owner is NOT happy with me.” Sky scrambled to explain, as she charged towards Viktor’s desk and began pulling apart stacks of paperwork. Sweat beading on her brow.

“Hey, calm down. What is it? Where did you see it last?” “It was a sketchbook. Um, uh, black, hard cover, it was practically bulging with how many pages it had stuck in it.” Sky explained, "I could've sworn I left it on Viktor's desk." Viktor’s brows jump up in realisation. His eyes dart over to the sketchbook in Jayce's hands, before leaping up to meet the man's wide, knowing eyes.

“I take it that Y/n found out you took it then.” Viktor spoke up. Sky winced. “I may have let it slip-” her voice began to backpedal, before the distant stomp of approaching footsteps made her pale. The gait the recognisable, the tempo just a touch faster than its normal pace. “DON’T THINK HIDING BEHIND VIKTOR OR JAYCE WILL SAVE YOU NOW!” A booming voice hollered from down the hallway.

Sky became frantic again. She redoubled her efforts.

Jayce very slowly lowered the sketchbook down to his lap, where the table would conceal it from view if anyone peered into the kitchenette. And Viktor just sighed as he got comfortable.

Heavy footsteps approached the laboratory door, which was then promptly kicked open, so fast that the door smacked into the opposite wall for the second time today. Y/n, brandishing a broom of all things, visibly seethed in the doorway.

“Do you know how much <i>work</i> has gone into that sketchbook?” They demanded, more furious than Viktor had ever seen them before. “How many hours I’ve spent amongst those pages.” Sky looks appropriately guilty. “I know! And I’m so sorry I lost it, I really thought I was doing you a favour!”

Reader’s lip curls up into a furious snarl, eyes narrowing. “And I thought I told you to leave it alone!” They snarled.

“But they’re just so good. I seriously don’t think you should be hiding your talent. What if the right person managed to find it, like Councillor Medarda, imagine the connections-” “And how, pray tell, is Councillor Medarda, supposed to come across my sketchbook in the laboratory of all places.” Skye’s voice lowers. “Well, she does stop by to see Jayce often enough.”

Reader sighed heavily. "Side-stepping that poor excuse, because we both know you were just trying to embarrass me-" "I was not! They're good drawings!"

“Where is it Skye? For the final time.”

They stepped menacingly into the room then, broom clutched tightly in both hands, only to pause when a single sheet of paper slipped out of their pocket and fluttered to the ground. The action clearly held significance, because Sky winced.

Meanwhile, Reader took a deep, steadying breath, before slowly, calmly leaning down to pluck the paper off of the floor. It was only for a second, but Viktor could have sworn he saw yet ANOTHER sketch of him and Jayce, which HOW? They'd been with the pair of them in the lab ALL DAY!

“Now look at me, I’m shedding paper left and right without my sketchbook to keep all my thoughts ORGANISED!” “I’m sorry! I’ll buy you a new one.”

A groan. “Skye, that is NOT the point-!”

“Okay, okay! Time out! Let us all take a breath.” Viktor interjected to which both apprentice and Illustrator startled.

Reader visibly seethed in place, whilst Sky just winced and ducked her head.

It was the former who spoke up first. “Sorry for the interruption.” They said sharply, eyes cutting over to Viktor and Jayce. To which Viktor just inclined his head, whilst Jayce very poorly concealed his guilty wince. Reader was too preoccupied with Sky however to notice as they turned back to her. “May we continue this debate outside? Preferably away from the workshops?” Skye seemed to shrink in on herself more. Eyes darting over to Viktor, then jumping up to Jayce.

“Sky!”

“Only if you promise to stop yelling.” She demanded.

Reader breathed out forcefully through their nostrils. Expression thinning out, shoulders easing, although the tightness to their jaw remained stubbornly present. “Fine.”

"Leave the broom!" Viktor called after them, to which Reader audibly groaned but let the broom in the lab before stepping out into the hall with Sky. The door clicked shut behind them.

Jayce and Viktor shared a look and held their breaths. Waiting. Listening. The conversation that inevitably started up once the door closes was fast paced, but in the promised quieter tone.

"I'm just going to-" Jayce began to say before motioning to the desks out in the main lab. Viktor shrugged, and allowed his partner to stand, sketchbook in hand, only for both of them to freeze when a loose slip of paper fell out.

"Oh no." Jayce said aloud as Viktor quickly pinned the sheet to the floor with the toe of his shoe, before it could drift away. "This is going to be adorable, isn't it?"

Viktor did not reply, as he stooping to pick it up. He turned it over, and he and Jayce collectively sighed as they discovered yet another sketch of the pair of them.

They're stood in front of the chalkboard, which seemed to be Reader's favourite place to draw them without being discovered. And it was clear from the way the pair were facing each other that they were deep in one of their debates. But what really caught the pair's attention, was the way that their drawn selves were looking at one another.

Viktor's with a small, knowing smile and a visible twinkle in his eye - which should have been an impossible thing to capture with merely a pencil. And Jayce's who was staring down at Viktor with an intensity in his eye and a playful lift of his eyebrows that spoke of challenge. They looked happy together. Feeding off one another's energy.

And it was startling that an outside perspective had managed to capture such a moment without either of them noticing.

"We don't get that absorbed in our debates, do we?" Jayce asked tightly, a soft look in his eye now as he gazed down at the sketch with reverence.

Viktor did not bother to deny it, because they both knew that they did. Here was a sketchbook stuffed with the evidence right before them.

Jayce tucked the sketch back between the pages, his expression complicated and yet oh so fond for someone who was no longer in the room with them.

Jayce and Viktor put the sketchbook back on Reader's desk, who later comes back in, visibly more subdued, and Sky nowhere in sight.

Viktor cracks a joke about them having stuffed her in a supply closet somewhere.

To which they reassure him that, "no, she had a meeting," and he would still have an apprentice turning up to work tomorrow.

Jayce looks up from his work, as does Viktor, when they make a beeline for their desk. In time to watch Reader stiffen when they see the little, black sketchbook placed neatly on top of their larger, official lab sketchbook. Then they lunge forward, snatching it up and flipping through the pages, shoulders loosening when all seems to be in order.

"You found it!"

"Viktor found it." Jauce interjected.

To which Viktor just preens and makes another joke about Sky thinking twice about getting between Reader and their belongings. He also throws in a compliment on the penmanship, just to see how Reader reacts.

To both of their surprises, Reader locks up at the compliment. “Please tell me you didn’t look though it.”

“I liked them." He said truthfully, "you certainly captured my likeness.” They groan and drop eye contact.

“Please don’t joke about it.” They plead, “it was just anatomy practice. But I completely understand if it makes you uncomfortable-”

“Uncomfortable?" Viktor parrots back, shooting Jayce a look. "Why would it make us uncomfortable?" "You might feel watched?" Reader offers.

Jayce shrugs. Viktor waves off their concern.

Jayce, "can we put some up on the pin board?" "No. None of these are remotely good enough to be hung up on display!" Reader is quick to deny.

By the end of the day, there are three new papers pinned to the pin board above Jayce's desk. One drawn by each of them in the lab. A chicken scratch drawing of Jayce, courtesy of Viktor. A carefully, but wonkily drawn Reader, courtesy of Jayce. And a recognisable and remarkably good drawing of Viktor done by Reader.

(Yes, they had a drawing competition and sat in a circle around someone's desk, simultaneously posing for and drawing each other. The boys had to do some major convincing so that Reader didn't assume they were being made fun of. And they all ended up having a great time).

Next part

#arcane #arcane s2 #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #jayce x viktor x reader #jayce x reader #viktor x reader #jayce arcane #viktor arcane #there is NOTHING more terrifying than coming across someone nose deep in your sketchbook #even worse if it's the one you put shitty memes and crack designs into and thought would never curse the vision of another human being #I think Reader's reaction to their sketchbook going mission was completely justified and within reason #Very demure #Very mindful #Sky is gnawing at the bars of her enclosure trying to get these three to understand their feelings are in fact requited #She is beside herself that she has not been successful yet but she WILL be soon #gender neutral reader #jayce talis x gender neutral reader #viktor x gender neutral reader #viktor x y/n #viktor x you #jayce talis #jayce league of legends

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untilhiseyeheals · 6 months ago

Text

Naughty Assistant - Arcane Silco x fem!reader Oneshot

For Lilith :)

-------------------------------------

Summary: You're Silco's assistant. During a boring meeting you let your thoughts wander, leading to you bent over a desk.

MDNI! Warning: Teasing, smut, p in v, rough sex, fingering

It wasn’t your fault, really. It was just such a boring meeting and you could hardly sit still listening to the chembarons each try to play themselves up as the most important and powerful. You had to try hard not to scoff at some of the things they dared to say in his presence. This should have alerted you to the fact that he was not to be messed with, especially not in a tense meeting situation.

You were Silco’s assistant. Most of the time. What started as a job as a simple courrier had quickly turned into something much more serious. For whatever reason he took a liking to you and started assigning you more and more important, personal tasks. Sooner or later you had naturally assumed the position as his assistant, taking notes, worrying about paperwork and still running on one or the other occasional courier job. Until one fateful night, overworked and tired you fell asleep in his office, just wanting to take a quick nap on the comfortable plush sofa in the corner that seemed to smile at you so invitingly. He found you hours later, returning from his own work and almost locking you in the office. It was pure luck that he decided to pop in before he locked up and found you there. As he tried to wake you, in your delirium you pulled him in by his neck and whispered all sorts of things to him, not awake enough to realise the consequences. Your little sleepy slip-up had since led to many nights spent in his office, on his desk, on the couch, in his private rooms, in the bar after everyone went home… Over time you grew more comfortable around him, even though you still respected his position and never dared to argue against any of his strategic concerns, in private matters he had evidently formed a soft spot for you.

That’s how you found yourself in the present, at the table in one of the meeting rooms above The Last Drop, sitting right beside him as he addressed the chembarons. Notepad on the desk, pen in hand, you kept meticulous notes of important details in conversation but also paid attention to their body language, facial expressions, anything they didn’t express through words. Your notes and intel had a big significance and Silco had been able to use your findings to his advantage multiple times. Usually the meetings were a little more interesting, pressing matters being discussed, everyone arguing and spitting insults at one another. This time it was going boringly well. They all seemed to agree on the task at hand and you had delved into doodling on the notepad in front of you instead of paying attention.

Then you started diverting your attention to him, starting to observe the way he sat in his chair beside you. The way his nose obscured the good eye, black and ember over charred skin all you can see from your angle. Still, you admired him and you found inextricable beauty in any of his features. Before you knew it, your hand started doodling what had captivated you on the notepad. Little sketches of the way his drawn-in brow furrowed, the way his eye focused on each person that raised their voice. It made you think of the way it locked onto you when you were lying underneath him, fixing you even when his blue eye is closed in ecstasy, never letting you out of its sight.

Gradually, your drawings get more and more obscene, just ever so slight hints of pleasure on the faces you sketched, eye rolled back, lip caught between teeth. Soon your mind was clouded with all those beautiful images and you had completely lost focus. “Am I right?” said Finn, staring at you. A beat. “Silco, is your little assistant here with us? I asked if you noted that down!?” he spat at you over the table, raising his voice and waving an arm in hopes of snapping you out of your trance. "Shit. Sorry, yeah I got it. Don’t hassle me”, you shook your head and quickly turned a fresh page on your notebook, trying to hide your little drabbles in imagination and act as if you had just run out of space. Silco raised an eyebrow and turned to you, eyes falling on the page of the notebook as you hastily turned it over. Before you could do anything against it, he grabbed the page, tore it from the notebook and put it in his lap, obscuring it from the others. You could see something flashing through his eyes as they scanned the page.

He kept it in his lap and looked back up at the others. “Perfectly orderly notes, as always. Don’t you worry, Finn, my eyes and ears notice everything”, he retorted, voice low and steady, lacing each word with a hidden sense of threat that made Finn instantly sit back down and nod his head. Keen on moving on from this tension, the conversation instantly moved to the next topic and everyone went back to paying you no mind. Everyone but Silco. You could feel it now, his steady gaze fixed on you while he listened to the others talking. He didn’t let it shine through at all, walls up, sitting there calm and collected as ever. To nobody in this room did he seem anything other than his usual, broody, dangerously focused self. You knew better. You had become more attuned to the way his mood showed through the way he kept himself and as you let your eyes wander once more over his figure in the chair next to you you could clearly see the way his hands fidgeted with the piece of paper still in his hands.

That gave you an idea. Softly putting down your pen, you acted as if you had to readjust your necklace, letting your hands roam slowly over your neck and collarbone. Dropping them to your chest, you adjusted the way your bra was sitting, carefully opening just one more button on your blouse. You picked the pen back up and started noting down some points, taking the cold metallic end of it between your hot lips every now and then. Gently grazing it with your teeth, letting your tongue feel the cold metal of the clicker at the end. Your eyes flicked over to Silco as he readjusted his position, leaning on the desk, resting his head on the back of his hands. He still looked calm and collected as ever, but you could see his resolve crackling, eyes flicking over to you more and more often.

It was entertaining, but clearly not enough since he just carried on conversing with the other chembarons as if nothing was happening at all. So you decided to turn it up a notch. You looked over at him and let your gaze drop to his lap, discarded sheet of notepad paper still laying on his crotch. A very fortunate position. You kept scribbling on the notepad, eyes flicking to the paper, fixing it, thinking, plotting, scheming. How lucky for you that he was sitting right to the side of your weak hand. Your eyes still on the paper, noting down whatever it was they had just discussed, your other hand slowly slid off the table. Landing first on your own leg, you let it snake its way over to his seat, finding his leg, trailing sneaky fingers up its side. Slowly, carefully your nimble fingers danced their way over the material of his pants, dragging nails across, inching closer and closer to his crotch. You gently toyed with the fabric of his pants moving closer and closer to your destination. Faking a grab for the paper, your hand slid underneath it, tracing the outline of his length through his pants.

Suddenly, his hand grabbed your wrist, holding it down. Trying not to make a scene, you carefully looked up from your paper and saw him still sitting upright, head leaned onto one of his hands, elbow on the table as he talked to the others as if nothing was wrong. You tried to retract your hand but his grip only grew stronger, almost bruising your wrist. You winced, dropping the pen in the other hand at the sudden sting of pain around your wrist. Silco looked over to you, stone-cold expression, and simply said “If you’re not feeling well, you may leave early. I believe we are about finished here, I will require your assistance in my office. Wait for me there, so we can go over your notes”. Something flashed through his eyes as he put special emphasis on the last words. You nodded obediently and as his grip around your wrist finally let go, you took a second to collect your notes and got up. As you turned to leave, you realised you forgot one very important piece of paper. Turning back around for a glance, you see Silco still had his hand on his lap, not giving you a chance to retrieve the paper. So you decided it was as safe with him as it got and turned on your heel to leave the room.

As you made your way to his office, you couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Slipping into his office, you settled your notes on his desk and undid another few buttons of your blouse. You had just contemplated what else to do and whether to spread yourself on the couch or wait sitting on his desk as you heard a set of footsteps approaching the door. As the door opened, you saw Silco step into the room, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he saw you in front of his desk, blouse undone and contemplating your next move. “What exactly did you think this was going to be out there, hm?” he started, voice low but with a considerable edge. He was pissed. “What if someone caught on to your little games under the table, your lewd scribbles, let alone who they were about?” he kept scolding as he took slow, menacing steps closer to you. “I don’t need you undermining my position in important meetings. Your behavior reflects on me. What would they think if they-”, he couldn’t say any more before you interrupted him. “If they what? Found out you fuck your little assistant? Oh please, as if they don’t already think as far as that” you spat back at him.

That made him stop dead in his tracks. Eyes locked onto you, a fire blazing in those mismatched irises. “Watch your mouth”, he threatened. “Or what? You’ll fire me? Kill me, even? Go ahead! Apparently that leaves one less mess you have to care about” you started raising your voice before it cracked, betraying you in your emotions seeping through in your every word. That’s when he realised. His scowl turned into a smirk, furrowed brows relaxing as his eyes scanned your agitated form. He let out a low chuckle. “Oh so that’s what this is all about? You don’t just want to be my little assistant anymore, hm?” he teased, having seen right through you, he once again assumed the upper hand as he closed the distance between you. He stopped in front of you, leaning onto the desk, trapping you between his arms. He looked you up and down, drinking you in, the way you so desperately wanted to be his, submitting to him entirely making it hard for him to hold back. He slowly leaned closer, bringing his lips almost to yours before turning away and placing his lips at your ear. “Then say it”, he whispered into your ear. He didn’t have to ask twice. “Silco, I want to be yours” you whispered back, breathing heavily at the tension building between the two of you.

“Good girl”, he growled before his lips were crashing into yours in a hungry kiss. All that pent up anger and tension started to release in the form of a fiery kiss. There was nothing delicate about the way he was trying to devour you, pressing his body against yours and pushing you against the desk. You let your hands snake around his waist as he lifted his hands from the desk instantly finding your sides as they started to roam up and down your body, tugging at your blouse. You understood without a word and opened the last buttons of your blouse, exposing the lacy bra underneath that cupped your breasts in a perfect way, nipples peeking through the lace.

He stopped the assault on your mouth to take in the sight before him and instantly brought a hand to one of your hardened nipples, flicking it through the thin lace of your bra. You winced in pain as he twisted it just enough to send a jolt of pleasure through your body that turned the wince into a moan halfway through. “Look at you. Dirty girl. So eager to please me, to submit to me, to be mine” he growled against your neck as his mouth started sucking and biting on the skin along your jaw and down your neck. That made you throw your head back as one of your hands found his head, digging your nails into his scalp, urging him to go lower, slightly pushing his head. He got the hint and without lifting his head from your neck, he slid the strap of your bra down your shoulder, pulling it until the thin bit of lace was dragged underneath your breast, fully exposing your boob to him. He continued sucking your neck, dropping his head lower, kissing your collar bone, teasing and stalling until he finally wrapped his mouth around your nipple. You sucked in a breath at the sensation, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud of your nipple, chipped teeth grazing it ever so slightly. You dug your nails into his scalp as a wave of pleasure streamed through your body, sweet moans and pants spilling from your lips. “Silco, please”, you moaned out as he gently sucked on your nipple.

He stopped, tilting his head to look up at you. “Please, what?” he purred against your skin, blowing cold air over your wet nipple making the skin tingle. You let out a desperate moan. “Please fuck me already.” you practically sob out. That earned a low chuckle from him as he stepped back, straightened up in front of you and nodded towards your hips. “Pants off.” he ordered, watching with a smirk as your hands quickly found the button of your pants, sliding them off and discarding them onto the floor. He hummed contently, hands starting to grab onto your hips, sliding down your waist before settling on your ass, cupping each cheek and giving them a gentle squeeze. He brought his hands around, tracing the hem of your panties, thumb trailing agonisingly close to where you needed him most. Finally his thumb starts running along the front of your panties, pressing into your soft flesh, feeling your wetness through the fabric. “My, my… Look what you got yourself into with those depraved thoughts of yours” he said scoldingly, a humorous tone in his voice.Suddenly, his thumb slid down and pushed the soaked fabric of your panties to the side, running his fingers directly through your wet folds and gathering your slick on his fingers. You inhaled sharply and tried grabbing the desk you still leaned against for support as you instinctively bucked your hips against his hand. “Please, please, please” you muttered out, desperate to feel him finally inside you.

He gave you one low chuckle before pushing two fingers into you, making you involuntarily let go of the desk and grab onto him. “Oh, how greedy you are. That’s what you thought about when looking over at me during that meeting, no? You just couldn’t stop imagining those fingers fucking into you”, he said while relentlessly pushing his fingers deep into you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot that made your eyes water. Instinctively you started bucking your hips, grinding back against the motions of his hands, chasing the high.

As he felt your walls starting to clench around his fingers, he retracted them, leaving you whining and grinding against nothing. Before you could protest, he grabbed your waist with both hands, spinning you around and pushing you against the desk. ��Bend over”, he ordered as you heard the buckle of his belt clink. You obeyed just as eagerly as before, bending your body forwards, resting your arms on the desk, slightly parting your legs to give him a good view of the mess he made with his fingers. He laid his hands on your ass again, letting them roam over your skin and panties, spreading your cheeks. “That’s what I like to see” he purred before pulling your panties to the side. With his free hand he grabbed his cock he had finally freed from the confinement of his pants and lined the tip up with your entrance. Keeping it there for a second, he dragged it up and down through your folds, coating it with your wetness. “So eager and ready for me”, he growled as he slid into you without any resistance, bottoming out instantly. You let out an ungodly moan as you felt him fill you up completely, his hips on your ass, staying there to relish in the feeling of how much he stretched you out.

Wasting no time, he started ramming into you, hands gripping your hips, leaving you unable to move as he fucked you against the desk. Between quick ragged breaths his hands left your hips and grabbed your arms, bringing them together at the wrists and holding them uncomfortably over your back. You had to flop forward, planting your chest completely onto the desk, turning your head to the side to be able to breath. He gripped your wrists together and with one strong pull lifted your torso from the desk, the angle leaving you screaming and cursing his name as it hurt so good. “That’s my good girl. Don’t hold back. Let them hear you scream my name. That’s what you wanted, no?” he gritted out between thrusts. It was evident in his voice how close he was himself, gathering all his strength to hold himself together and ‘punish’ you a bit longer. You had no choice but to oblige, the sensation of his cock consistently stretching you, pushing deep inside you to places only he could reach. You moaned and muttered his name, sometimes more sometimes less intelligible, between gasps and whines as you let yourself go completely.

Every plunge of his cock sent jolts of arousal through your entire body until one very clear mention of his name announced your impending release. “That’s it love, cum for me. Show me who you belong to.” You couldn’t hold back anymore, eyes rolling back as you approached your climax. Silco’s thrusts started to become sloppy and the rhythm got more and more irregular. Sweet moans and grunts leaving his lips which sent you over the edge, clenching your walls around him as he fucked you through your orgasm. He managed a few more sloppy thrusts before spilling his hot ropes of cum into you, unable to hold himself back at the feeling of your own climax around him. He continued slowly thrusting, letting go of your hands and leaving you to steady yourself up by propping your elbows onto the desk. He groaned as he slowly pulled out of you, dragging one string of cum between his cock and your cunt. He took a handkerchief out of his vest pocket and cleaned himself up, discarding it to the side before turning his attention to you, grinning as he used the ruined fabric of your panties to cover you up again. Running his fingers along the mess he made your ruined panties soon looked even worse mixed with your and his release.

After you had calmed down your breathing again you attempted to push yourself off the desk and stand up straight, legs wobbling and betraying you as your hips ached from being thrusted into the harsh edge of the wooden desk. His strong arms quickly swooped around your waist, holding you close to him as he admired your flushed face with a grin on his own. “I think they got it. Now, shall we finish this meeting?”

#arcane #silco #arcane silco #arcane brainrot #fanfiction #fic #fic writing #my fic #silco x fem!reader #silco x reader #smut

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blue-arkhamknight · 5 months ago

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SKETCHES.

Warning: None. (Damian, Jon, and reader are age ten to make the story a bit more sweeter.)

── .✦

── .★

School wasn’t so bad! If you look at it from Damian’s perspective it’s awesome. He gets to learn AND play music. He’s a very tasked kid, playing about 5 instruments. Impressive isn’t it? Violin, guitar, trumpet, viola, and harmonica. Let me say, he’s proud.

For his age the boy shared a love for classical music. A habit of scrunching his nose when he heard some of the school bands play harsh music. It wasn’t like an abomination or something, but just not his cup of tea. Jon, his friend really was just the opposite. From insulting Mozart to shredding his messy and loud electric guitar in his main solos.

Lunch was one of his favorite parts of the day. The food he got to eat and practicing of his instruments, sounds of the bow hitting the strings of his perfectly tuned instrument. Truly it was heavenly to his ears. “You messed up again.” a voice he had memorized rang in his head like an echo, immediately looking embarrassed with the biggest frown. “I certainly do not mess up. Clean your ears.” he told you with a scowl.

You looked up at him from your sketchbook, doing a sketch piece that you forgot as homework in lunch time while you listened to him play. “But you did- you played C minor instead of D.” you said and pointed at his music sheet. Damian huffed and looked where your finger pointed. “Yeah, I knew that. I was just testing you.” he said, his tone betraying him and saying in a hidden way ‘Yeah I messed up.’.

The assignment you had wasn’t difficult, hence to why you forgot to do it. The instructions were: ‘Draw someone or anything as many times as you liked, but you had to fill the whole page.’ your teacher had spoken in class. Damian tried to peek at your page, failing. Your arm was hiding it like a person who wouldn’t let anyone cheat off their exam. He fairly came to the conclusion that it wasn’t fair. You never showed him your art! He always showed you his paintings and musical errors without hiding them!

He still made no fuzz, no matter how much he wanted to look at the sketchbook he respected that maybe you didn’t feel comfortable with sharing your drawings. Damian understood how most artists were embarrassed of showing their works and that was normal. He continued playing his violin, from playing his piece to playing Howl’s Moving Castle. For a moment you stopped with the pencil strokes.

You mentioned many times before Howl’s Moving Castle, though they were mindless thoughts and some homework doodles. Damian had taken his time to memorize the famous melody in his violin. His gaze was torn between you and his fingers on the violin strings and his other hand on his bow. The gaze was intense, like a stoic way of saying ‘Hey! I learned this for you.’. Other students and teachers paused to look at Damian, ones impressed and others recognizing the tune. Equally, your gaze fixated on him also.

Soon your hand moved on the paper once again, calm with the familiar melody as you drew the familiar boy in front of you with his violin. The drawing wasn’t an exact copy of the moment of course, but it was very clear it was Damian Wayne. That was the reason you didn’t show him your drawings. It would be weird to show your friend he’s secretly your muse. The stop of the music made you look up, his face scrunched up in a way of silently saying that you should be excited. In a quick panic you just clapped your hands, making others that had heard clap along.

It was priceless. His red face full of embarrassment. The claps died down and his face went back to normal slowly. He frowned at you and gave you a huff, “I wished to be appreciated, but not from the whole school.” he stoically stated, exaggerating in the slightest. “Sorry, Wayne.” you said back apologetically, only getting a “Tt.” from him.

────

“I will walk today, Pennyworth.” the boy addressed the man through the passenger window the butler had rolled down. Alfred was indeed surprised. “Alright, Master Damian. Are you sure you will not even drop your violin in the vehicle?” his father’s butler asked, making Damian open a door and leave the violin case securely on the seat and closing the door again. He ran to his friends (whether he liked to admit it or not, you and Jon were his friends.), stopping right in front of the guitarist and artist.

After a while of friendly banter, Jon waved and walked away. Now being alone with Damian he took a notice of the hour. “I will walk you home.” he stated. Not even a ‘Can I walk you home?’. You didn’t comment on it since you didn’t have a ride home. “Okay, Damian.” you spoke with a grateful nod.

He walked with you to your home, making small talk and getting a few laughs and smiles out of you which were secretly his goal. Damian also carried your lunchbox. It was a habit he got from the first day of school, which you guys met. You had teasingly asked him to carry your lunchbox and he surprisingly did it. Grumpily, but he still did, after that he developed a habit of doing it. As you stepped foot in front of your door step you turned around, looking at the boy as he made a call for Alfred to pick him up. You dropped your bag mindlessly and companied him in front of your own house to wait for his ride.

“Thank you for walking me home.” you thanked, earning a nod from him. “No problem.” he brushed off, setting your lunchbox next to your bookbag and without you noticing he grabbed something from your bookbag and closed the zipper quietly, putting the item on the inside his jacket. “You okay?” you asked after seeing his rapid movements. “Yes, I am alright.” he said looking over at you and pretending to fix the cuffs of his jacket.

Alfred arrived after about 10-20 minutes, stopping right in front of your house. “Bye Damian! See you at school!” you said with a smile and a wave. He returned the wave and a small “Yeah, bye.”. He hopped in the back seat of the car and Alfred rolled down the window. “Thank you for waiting with him.” Alfred said gratefully, “No problem, Alfred. See you soon!” you responded. You knew the Wayne family for a bit now, Alfred and Bruce being very fond of Damian having another friend aside Jon.

You got inside your house when you took your backpack and lunch box and Alfred made sure. The car got out of view once he made sure you were safely inside. Now that Damian was alone he took out the thing he had taken. Your sketchbook. He knew he was doing something very wrong, but curiosity killed the cat. He flipped page through page of your art assignments. There were studies and all, but he mainly saw himself. Damian realized that, one; your drawings were awesome, two; he felt- happy? How would he work this out? …

How would he tell you that he was Robin?

──── ⋆˚✿˖° ────

I wrote again!! I need to add more dialogue to my stories and better them. I don’t know if i should continue this.

#robin #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #music #instruments #x reader #dc #gn!reader #damian wayne x gn!reader #dc comics #batfam #art school #art #musician #artist #jon kent #artist reader

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thatgenericwriter · 1 year ago

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THE BET || GREGORY HOUSE

Paring: Gregory House x gn! reader

Summary: reader is a mortician at the hospital and gets into a little bet with House

Warnings: House (no explanation needed) and some swearing

Word Count: 1.1k

P.S. based on the request by @ryoiii (I'm sorry this took me so long to do I'm trying my hardest)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Life was pretty mundane at your new job as a mortician at Princeton Plainsboro's Teaching Hospital. Being new to the city and hoping for a fresh start was fine, but man was it boring. Just you alone with your thoughts down in the basement of a huge hospital.

Until one day you met House in the cafeteria. He was sitting with Wilson, the doctor that Cuddy had assigned to show you around on your first day. You two had grown close over the two weeks you had been there. You would hang out in his office when there was nothing for you to do. And you guys would have lunch together most days. You saw him as the only friend you had made so far.

So it was no surprise when he called you over to his table after you got your food.

"Hey y/n, come sit!" You smile at Wilson and make your way over, taking note of the grumpy looking man, whom you assumed was Wilson's friend Dr. Gregory House. Which was made certain when you saw his cane leaning against his chair.

"Wilson! Paying to have your "friends of the night" visit you at work? That's low even by my standards!" Wilson slaps House's shoulder and scolds him before turning to look at you apologetically.

"It's okay Willson. House is just jealous because he knows he will never be able to afford me." You revel in the questioning look on House's face and the shocked look on Wilson's as you sit down on the chair next to him.

You open your yogurt container and take a bite before looking between House and Wilson questioningly.

"What? Can't handle the truth?" House smirks at you while Wilson sighs loudly beside you.

"Great another House. Just what I needed." Wilson shakes his head solemnly from beside you as you lean back in your chair eyeing the man across from you. 'This is going to be fun.'

.........

Ever since your encounter with House in the cafeteria a few weeks ago, you two have become inseparable. Whenever you don't have a body to tend to in the morgue you're in House's office. His fellows have become accustomed to seeing you in House's yellow chair tossing his ball around or doodling on his whiteboard.

They have also come to learn that if House is nowhere to be found, he is most likely down in the morgue with you. Which is where they found him today. But instead of finding him in deep discussion with you, they walk in on the two of you fighting.

"You can not have one of the bodies! Especially not with the intention of shooting them in the fucking head!" You went along with all of House's stupid ideas (that's what made him fun), but this was crossing a line. A line that put your job on the chopping block.

House was acting like the man-child he is, actually stomping his foot at you and crossing his arms like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

"But mommy please!" He had the audacity to stick his bottom lip out at you and that was your last straw. You look at him blankly and walk past him to the doors.

"Do whatever you want. I don't care anymore." You swiftly walk past his fellows who look at you with pity written all over their faces. You paid no mind to them and continued to the elevators. The last thing you saw before the doors slid closed was House staring at you with a look on his face that you'd never seen from him before. Remorse.

..........

That was about an hour ago. Now you are sprawled across Wilson's couch in his office chatting with him about the most random stuff. That was until the door slowly opened and House walked through.

You turn and face away from him not ready to talk to him quite yet. However, that didn't deter him from talking to you.

"I just came to say that I talked to Cuddy and made it known that anything I do should not affect your job. And that I will take responsibility for anything I do that involves the morgue." This was a surprise to you, and also to Wilson according to his face. When you still didn't turn to face House he continued.

"I also wanted to apologize to you for trying to make you do something you didn't want to get involved with." At this point, Wilson was sure he was having a stroke and you were sure that you had completely fallen for House.

You had been fighting the idea of having a crush on House since the very first week of being with him. Hearing about his lack of emotions and empathy for others strayed you away from pursuing a relationship with him. But after him taking responsibility for his actions and apologizing to you, how could you stay away?

You turn to him with the coldest look on your face that you could manage. "You think you can just come in here and give some half-ass apology and believe that I would forgive you just like that!"

You relish in the confused expression on Wilson's and House's faces before bursting out in laughter.

"Of course I forgive you ya goof!" You jump off of the couch and grab his hand pulling him out of the office.

"I bet ya his head explodes!" Slowing down to a speed that House can keep up with comfortably, you start to pull your hand away. House stops you, however, by interlocking his fingers with yours.

"I bet you he doesn't scream no matter what happens." House pushes the down button to call for the elevator with his cane before looking at you. You smile back at him and bump your hip with his slightly.

"That's not fair he's dead!" He smiles at you and bumps your hip back. The elevator dings and opens to reveal all of his fellows who walk out informing House that their "patient" is ready to be scanned. You watch as their jaws drop when they notice your intertwined hands.

You giggle and follow House into the elevator waving goodbye to his fellows as the doors slide shut.

"They are never going to stop talking about this." He looks at you and smirks.

"I guess I'm just going to have to hide out in the morgue more often. I wonder if there is someone alive in there to keep me company?" You smile at him pretending to ponder on his question.

"I think I know someone who works there that might be interesting to talk to." The elevator dings and the doors slide open. You pull House once again and start making your way to the MRI lab.

"Enough sappy stuff! Let's go kill a dead guy!" You look back at House and he just shakes his head at you affectionately.

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Author's Note: Guys im finaly done with school! (at least for the summer) and I'm planning on writing a lot more! please leave some asks and be patient with me as I am trying my best here😭😭😭

#x reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #gregory house x reader #greg house x reader #house md #gregory house #house x reader #house x gn! reader #x gn! reader #hate crimes md

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hamilton-here · 26 days ago

Note

Hiiii! Could you do please one where Lewis and reader are good friends though Lewis is crazy in love with her since the moment he met her but she has a boyfriend so he is just like yearning for her. Until she and her boyfriend broke up and Lewis is there for her, supporting her, being the good friend he is, helping her heal until eventually she inevitably falls in love with him too.

Thank you so much in advance for reading.

I wish you the best. Have a good day :)

𝒜𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒴𝑜𝓊

Authors Note: Hey guys! Another request finished. I apologise, I’m slowly getting through them as fast as I can, since I got 3 new assignments recently. Still have another 6 requests to go. Lots of love xx

Summary: Lewis has been in love with his best friend since they were young. Reader doesn’t realise until a break up in adulthood.

Warnings: slight swearing

Taglist: @hannibeeblog @nebulastarr @cosmichughes

MASTERLIST

࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִ ֶ 𓂃࣪𓏲ᥫ᭡ ₊

You met Lewis in your final year of secondary school.

You’d transferred halfway through the term - a mid-year shuffle after your parents’ divorce meant moving to a new town, new house, new everything. The school was bigger than your last, louder, the kind of place where everyone already had their people. And you were just floating. Walking the halls with your headphones in, sitting alone at lunch with your tray of untouched food and a book you’d already read twice. Pretending not to notice the stares, the whispered “who’s she?” that always seemed to follow new girls around.

You were used to hiding. The chaos at home had taught you how.

What you didn’t expect was that someone else was hiding too and that someone was Lewis Hamilton.

Even then, he had that spark. Teachers called it potential. Kids called it weird. He was fast not just on the track, but in the way his mind worked, the way he doodled car parts and corner lines in the margins of his maths book. Most of the time, he was quiet. But when he smiled really smiled you could feel the air shift.

Still, he wasn’t exactly popular.

Some of the boys resented him. For being different. For being focused. For being a different skin tone in a school that only ever paid lip service to diversity. You’d seen it in the way they snickered behind his back, the way they'd "joke" about the way he talked or call him names just under the teacher's radar. Not loud enough to get caught. Just loud enough to hurt.

One day, after a PE lesson, you saw him sitting alone behind the bleachers. His uniform was crumpled, his knees pulled up to his chest, and there was a bruise blooming on his cheekbone that hadn’t been there that morning.

You didn’t say anything at first. Just sat down beside him without a word, pulling your water bottle out of your bag and handing it over.

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if he should trust it.

“You look like you hate this place almost as much as I do,” he said, finally breaking the silence.

You huffed a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Well, I haven’t exactly been given a reason to love it.”

That was the beginning.

From then on, he’d meet you by your locker before class. You started sitting next to him at lunch, not caring that some people looked confused by it. You shared music. Traded secrets. Snuck snacks into the library during free periods. He let you read his notebook full of racing dreams and engine sketches the one no one else was allowed to see. And you let him see the messier parts of you, the way your chest still ached when your mum didn’t call back, the nights you cried into your pillow wondering why everything in your life was temporary.

Somehow, with him, it stopped feeling like you were just surviving.

And for Lewis in a world that often tried to shrink him, to make him smaller, quieter you never asked him to be anything but himself.

He didn’t realise it at first. Not in any dramatic, falling-off-a-cliff kind of way. It was gradual like the way morning light fills a room without anyone noticing until it’s fully bright. One day, he was just your friend. And the next he wasn’t sure how to breathe right when you laughed too hard and leaned into his shoulder. Or why his hands always felt warmer after you touched them. Or why it suddenly mattered so much if someone else made you smile.

He never said anything. Not then.

You were still figuring yourself out and he was still trying to prove himself to the world. So, he tucked it away. Folded those feelings into the pages of his sketchbook and the spaces between texts that said, “You okay?” when he really meant, “I miss you.”

But the truth of it lived quietly in him. The way he always saved you the better half of his sandwich. The way he noticed when your voice dipped just slightly over the phone. The way he’d rather spend hours lying on your floor doing nothing than be anywhere else.

And even after school ended, even when life began tugging you both in opposite directions him into the world of fast cars and global fame, you into uni lectures and internships and early heartbreaks the thread between you never snapped.

But before all that - before all the Grand Prix’s and mechanics and podiums you remember the first time you ever went over to Lewis’s house.

It was a rainy Friday afternoon. He’d noticed the way you lingered at your locker, dreading the walk home. You hadn’t told him your mum had forgotten to pick you up again, or that you’d been surviving on cereal and vending machine snacks for the last three days. But Lewis always had a way of knowing things without you saying them.

“Come over,” he said simply, slinging his rucksack over his shoulder. “Dad’ll be cool with it. He always makes too much food anyway.”

You wanted to say no. To come up with an excuse, a lie, anything that would let you keep your walls up. But something in his eyes made it hard to retreat. So, you nodded and followed him.

The flat was small, lived-in, warm. Racing posters covered the walls, and the faint scent of motor oil clung to the air like a second skin. But it felt like home in a way yours hadn’t in a long time.

Anthony Hamilton opened the door and took one look at you drenched hoodie, tired eyes, polite smile and something in his face softened.

“This her?” he asked, glancing at Lewis.

Lewis nodded. “Yeah. This is her.”

Anthony gave a quiet little grunt of approval and stepped aside. “Well, come on in then. Hope you’re hungry.”

You’d never had someone’s father cook for you like that before. He made spaghetti and garlic bread from scratch, cracked jokes across the table, and never once made you feel like an inconvenience. When you offered to help wash up afterward, he just shook his head and said, “Nah, you’re a guest. But if you’re coming back next week, I’ll put you to work.”

And he meant it. Because you did come back. Again, and again.

Anthony always greeted you like family. Remembered your favourite snack. Asked about your exams. Called you “kid” or “trouble” and sometimes when he thought you weren’t listening - told Lewis he was lucky to have a friend like you.

Lewis didn’t argue. He just smiled, small and secret, and looked down at his plate so no one could see what he was thinking.

You didn’t realise it at the time, but that house became a kind of second home. Not perfect, but safe. A place where you weren’t just seen but looked after. A place where you were wanted.

And it all started with a bruise on Lewis’s cheek and a quiet moment behind the bleachers.

You saw each other. Really saw each other.

And Lewis? He never stopped.

Years passed. The world spun faster.

Lewis became Lewis Hamilton. A name not just whispered between classmates anymore but shouted by fans from grandstands around the world. He wasn’t just the boy who shared your revision snacks and knew all your little tells - he was a world champion. A headline. A global name carved into history.

You watched his name rise from the corner of your laptop screen, from the tiny telly in your university flat with its dodgy antenna and sagging couch cushions. He was there in the background of your life like a familiar song, in magazine covers at the supermarket checkout, in Instagram stories forwarded by old classmates with messages like, “Remember him?”

Of course you remembered.

You never forgot the boy with ink-stained fingers who used to dream out loud to you in the back row of English class, notebook filled with cars and quotes and wide-eyed ambition. You never forgot the way he listened, really listened like every word you said mattered more than the noise of the world around you.

You texted sometimes. Birthday messages. The occasional “Good luck this weekend” or “Saw you on TV — still doodling in margins?” He’d always reply sometimes within minutes, sometimes days later from the other side of the globe. A scratchy voice note from a hotel room in Tokyo. A blurry selfie at an airport gate captioned ‘Look familiar?’ His replies were always warm, always tinged with something that never quite dulled with time.

But life had swept you up too.

There was your degree - long nights in the library, surviving on caffeine and cramming. An internship that turned into your first job. Your first apartment a tiny, creaky flat with paper-thin walls and a shower that only worked when you held the handle just right. You learned how to be alone. How to make instant noodles taste like something resembling dinner. You had your share of flings, mistakes, and one heartbreak so sharp it hollowed you out for a while.

And somewhere along the way, when you weren’t looking, the years folded over each other like pages turning on their own.

Then one day, he was back.

It was off-season. A rare break in the relentless hum of engines and media. He texted out of the blue:

Lewis -

In town for a bit. You around?

You stared at the message longer than you meant to, rereading it with a pulse of warmth you hadn’t felt in a long time. You typed back “Of course. Same café?” before you could overthink it.

And just like that, it was as if nothing had changed. Like the years between you hadn’t stretched or blurred.

He was waiting at the corner table of the café you used to sneak off to after school, the one with mismatched chairs and chipped mugs, the scent of cinnamon and coffee thick in the air. He was wearing sunglasses despite the overcast skies, a hoodie pulled low trying to blend in, though he never really could.

But when he looked up and saw you, his face split into that grin. That same damn grin that used to undo you in quiet, stupid ways.

“I still owe you a sandwich,” he said, holding the door open like always. “And probably a hundred library snacks.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you stepped inside. “I think you’re a little behind, Hamilton. More like two hundred.”

He laughed too low and fond but there was something in his eyes now. Something quieter. Something tired. Something that flickered when you told him about your job, your flat, your recent travels. And then—

“Josh, my boyfriend,” you said, smiling as you stirred your tea. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like it didn’t shift the ground beneath his feet.

Lewis didn’t flinch. Not visibly. But his fingers paused their slow tapping against the ceramic mug. Just for a second.

“Good guy?” he asked, voice soft.

You nodded, totally unaware. “Yeah. He’s great. Smart, steady. He makes me laugh. We’re thinking of moving in together next year, actually.”

And just like that, Lewis folded it all back in again.

The ache. The slow, quiet longing that had bloomed again the moment he saw you walk through that café door. The way you’d tilted your head at him and smiled like no time had passed it had unmoored him. For a moment, it had felt like something was beginning again.

He had been falling for you not with the reckless speed of youth, but with the slow, aching certainty of adulthood. The kind of falling that doesn’t feel like falling at all just coming home.

But he said nothing.

Instead, he asked about Josh. Nodded when you told him how you met. Chuckled when you shared some awkward first date story. He laughed in all the right places and nodded at all the wrong ones, because it was the only thing he could do. Pretend it didn’t crush him every time you casually used the word we.

Because he remembered the way you used to lean your head against his shoulder during revision breaks, the way you once cried into his hoodie over a boy who never deserved your tears. The way he used to think even back then — Maybe one day. And the way that day had never come.

He’d waited for the right moment once.

But life got loud, and time got away from him.

So, he backed off.

He was good at that slipping out of reach without causing a ripple. Letting you shine while he drifted just outside your orbit. He’d mastered that balance on the track, and now he practiced it with you letting his love for you live in the space between what could’ve been and what still was.

Still, he stayed.

The friend. The constant. The voice at the other end of the phone when your car battery died or when Josh forgot your anniversary and you didn’t want to make it a thing. He was the one who sent you memes at 2 a.m. when you couldn’t sleep. The one who always answered, even when the call came in the middle of a media day.

Because being near you even like this was better than being without you.

And maybe, deep down, a part of him still hoped. Not for now. Not even for soon. But for someday. Some quiet, unpromised someday when maybe the timing would finally be right.

Because the thread between you might’ve frayed with time, pulled taut with distance and different lives…

But it had never quite snapped.

Lewis started to notice it in the little things.

The way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes when you talked about Josh anymore. How you used to light up when saying his name, voice soft, full of something warm and certain. Now, it caught on your tongue, like you weren’t sure it belonged there anymore. The way you once laughed a short, sharp sound with no real humour behind it - when Lewis casually asked if the move-in plans were still happening.

He didn’t press. He never did. But he paid attention.

He always had, when it came to you.

You met for coffee now and then, like you used to. Familiar places, familiar drinks. Life was busier now with race schedules, deadlines, missed calls that turned into half-hearted apologies but somehow, your paths kept circling back to each other, like gravity was doing its quiet work behind the scenes.

You told him stories. You always had stories. But lately, they came with longer pauses. You’d drift mid-sentence, distracted by something unsaid. You talked about work, about weekend plans, about Josh but more often now, Lewis noticed the searching in your voice, like you were digging for something good to say and couldn’t quite find it. And when you couldn’t, you’d just smile a little too tightly and change the subject.

Then came the texts.

Late-night ones, mostly. Sometimes after races. Sometimes at the end of an ordinary Tuesday.

You up?

Can I vent for a sec?

Is it bad that I don’t feel excited anymore?

Lewis never asked what had happened. Never dug into what Josh had said or done that night. He just answered, every time. It didn’t matter if he was in another country or a hotel room between races. If you needed him, he was there.

When Josh started missing the important days your birthday dinner, your sister’s graduation, the quiet night in you’d planned for weeks Lewis watched you try to hold the pieces together. You always gave Josh the benefit of the doubt. “He’s just stressed.” “He said he’ll make it up to me.”

But your voice cracked more each time you said it.

And when you said, “He’s just busy,” Lewis heard what you didn’t say:

So am I. But I still show up.

The night it all broke, you didn’t call.

It was Luna, your girl best friend, who messaged him instead, her words stumbling in a rush of panic:

She found him with someone else. She’s not okay. Please can you go? I don’t think she wants me right now.

Lewis didn’t hesitate. He didn’t think about the early call time he had the next morning or the interview he’d probably miss. He just grabbed his keys, shoved on a hoodie, and drove.

When you opened the door, you didn’t speak.

Your eyes were red-rimmed and glassy, lashes still damp. Hair pulled up carelessly. A hoodie too big for you hung off your frame like armour, sleeves falling over your hands. For a beat, you just stood there, like you didn’t know what to say, like you barely recognised yourself.

Lewis didn’t need words. He just opened his arms.

And you folded into him like it was instinct.

He wrapped you up, warm and steady, your face pressed against his chest as the sobs came in waves softer than before, worn down by hours of crying, but still aching. His hand cradled the back of your head, fingertips weaving into your hair, grounding you. You clung to him like you’d been holding your breath all day and only just remembered how to exhale.

He didn’t ask for details. Didn’t say “I’m sorry” or “What happened?”

He just let you break.

He stayed that night.

Made you tea you didn’t drink. Sat beside you on the couch, a blanket draped gently over your shoulders even though you never asked for one. He took your phone when it buzzed Josh’s name lighting up the screen and silenced it with barely a glance. And when you finally fell asleep on the couch, still tear-streaked and trembling, he curled himself into the armchair, kept one eye open, just in case you needed him again.

You woke at three a.m., disoriented, heart pounding, and he was still there - his hoodie bunched around his neck, his head resting awkwardly against the cushion. He stirred the second you shifted. Met your tired gaze with a quiet, reassuring look and asked, “You okay?”

You weren’t. But somehow, knowing he was there made it easier to breathe.

And he didn’t leave.

Not the next day. Not the one after that.

He came over with takeaway from your favourite Thai place, the one Josh always said was “too far out of the way.” He brought pastries from that little café you used to love, and when you couldn’t eat more than a few bites, he didn’t say a word. He walked your route home from work just to be near, to make the air around you feel less heavy. Sometimes, you didn’t talk. Sometimes, he made you laugh with dumb paddock stories impersonations of other drivers, tales from press tours gone wrong.

And sometimes, when the grief caught up to you when you curled into yourself on the couch, shoulders shaking, pain bubbling up without warning Lewis would pull you close, rub slow circles on your back, and whisper soft nothings until the wave passed.

You never thanked him. Not out loud. Not directly.

He never asked you to.

You didn’t fall in love with him all at once.

It wasn’t some cinematic moment or grand realisation. It was slow. Gentle. It was the way he remembered how you liked your tea with one sugar, splash of milk, extra hot. It was the way he read your silences better than most people understood your words. The way he always kept a respectful distance, never pushing, never making you feel like you owed him anything for being there.

It was the morning he dropped off groceries unannounced because you hadn’t been eating. The evening, he fixed the leaky tap in your kitchen without saying a word about it. The day he showed up with flowers not because it was a special occasion but because he thought your flat deserved some colour again.

And then, it was the day you laughed.

Really laughed.

He had said something stupid a joke about his own hair routine, maybe, or a story about George accidentally texting a team group chat instead of his girlfriend. Whatever it was, it caught you off-guard, and the sound escaped before you could stop it. Bright. Unfiltered. Real.

You covered your mouth with your hand, blinking like you couldn’t believe it happened.

When you looked at Lewis, he was already watching you.

Not with pity. Not even with relief. Just that quiet warmth again. That look that told you he’d seen the worst of you and hadn’t flinched.

Something in your chest cracked open.

Not from grief this time. But from something warmer. Something that felt like light creeping into a room you hadn’t stepped into in ages.

And in that moment, it hit you not all at once, but suddenly and sharply, like clarity finally pulling into focus:

This man had been yours all along.

Not in the way Josh had tried to possess you loudly, carelessly, like a prize. But in the way Lewis had loved you in silence. Patiently. Unconditionally. Fully. Without asking for anything back.

He had waited.

Without ever asking you to wait too.

And maybe now finally it was time.

It started slowly, the falling.

You didn’t even notice it at first. Just little things that shifted without you meaning them to. Like how your eyes searched for him in a crowd, without even thinking. Or how your chest loosened just a little every time you saw his name light up your phone screen.

One evening, a few weeks after the breakup, you were sitting on your balcony with him two mugs of lukewarm tea between you, the sun dipping behind the city skyline like it, too, was exhaling. Lewis was telling you about a disastrous team dinner in Monaco, and you were laughing. Really laughing again.

And then he looked at you just looked, not like anything had changed and your heart did something traitorous. It stuttered. Dropped. Caught again.

You blamed the sunset. Or the tea. Or the way he said your name so gently.

But that moment stayed with you.

And so did the next one. And the next.

Like when he reached over to brush a piece of lint from your sleeve and your skin burned under the touch. Or the day he walked you home in the rain, his jacket held over both your heads, and you couldn’t stop staring at the way his lashes caught the water. Or the night you watched a movie together and you leaned into his side a little longer than you needed to and he didn’t move. He just let you stay.

It scared you.

Because for the first time in a long time, you felt something. And it wasn’t grief. It wasn’t the ache of losing something or someone. It was softer than that. Warmer. Like something was rebuilding inside you, brick by brick and it had his fingerprints all over it.

You told Luna one night, voice low, like it was something fragile.

“I think I’m falling for him.”

She didn’t even look surprised.

“You’ve always been his. You just didn’t see it before.”

You didn’t answer. But the words haunted you for days.

One night, you found yourself digging through an old photo album in your parents’ attic a dusty, battered one filled with pictures from secondary school. School trips. Award ceremonies. Blurry selfies from your first ever music festival.

And there he was.

In the background of almost every photo. Always close. Always watching you. Sometimes laughing at something you’d said. Sometimes looking like he was about to speak but didn’t. And then there was that one of you and Josh, smiling stiffly at some friend dinner and Lewis, just off to the side, his expression unreadable.

You stared at that one the longest.

And suddenly, it clicked.

Like a puzzle piece slotted into place after years of trying to force the wrong ones together. You remembered the way he’d waited outside your classroom when you forgot your jacket. The way he’d walked you to the bus stop every day, even though it made him late. The way he never once told you how he felt not because he didn’t care, but because he didn’t want to burden you with it.

He’s loved you since you were kids.

You felt like an idiot. A blind one. Because how could you not have seen it? How could you have missed the kind of love that patient? That selfless?

That real?

You didn’t know what to do with the realisation. It sat in your chest like a secret too big to carry, too dangerous to say aloud. So, you didn’t. Not right away.

But the next time you saw him, something had changed.

It was movie night again your third that week, an unspoken tradition that neither of you ever seemed to want to break. He was curled on the floor, back against the couch, and you were up on the cushions, your legs tucked beneath you.

And you couldn’t stop watching him.

Not in a subtle, sidelong-glance kind of way but openly. Boldly. Like you needed to memorise him. Every line of his face. The soft edge of his smile. The way he knew the movie word for word but still watched it like it was brand new, just because you liked it.

At some point, he turned to say something, and your eyes met mid-breath.

Silence.

Your heart thundered. His lips parted, just slightly, like he was going to say something, but then he didn’t. He just…watched you back.

Your fingers twitched.

You didn’t know who moved first. Maybe both of you. Maybe neither — maybe it was just something that had been waiting to happen for years, and finally, finally, the timing aligned.

Your hand slipped down beside his. Not touching. Just close.

He looked down.

Then back at you.

And then he reached slowly, like giving you time to pull away and let his fingers brush yours.

It wasn’t a kiss. Not yet.

But it was the spark.

You didn’t speak the rest of the movie. You didn’t move away, either.

When the credits rolled, you turned to him, your voice soft, trembling just a little.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

He didn’t pretend not to know what you meant.

He just looked down, let out a breath, and said,

“Because you were happy. And I didn’t want to be the reason you weren’t.”

Your throat tightened.

You reached for his hand again fully this time. Your palm against his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles like a whisper.

“I wasn’t,” you said. “Not really. I just didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like.”

His eyes met yours again, and something flickered there something deep, something vulnerable.

“Then let me show you.”

The words were so quiet, you almost missed them.

And that’s when you leaned in.

It wasn’t a rushed kiss. It wasn’t urgent or desperate. It was slow. Careful. Like the kind of thing that had waited too long to be careless. Your lips brushed his like a question. His answer was the way he tilted his head, deepened the kiss, his hand cradling your jaw like you were something breakable and holy all at once.

It was years of silence. Years of patience. Years of loving each other in the wrong timelines, finally collapsing into one moment where everything was right.

When you pulled back, he didn’t say anything.

He just smiled wide, real, full of every unspoken thing between you.

And you knew this was just the beginning.

You didn’t define it right away.

After the kiss that soft, silent thing that felt like coming home neither of you rushed to fill the space with labels or declarations. You stayed curled on the couch beside him, legs tangled beneath the throw blanket, your fingers still laced together. His thumb kept tracing gentle arcs over your knuckles like he couldn’t quite believe he was allowed to touch you like this now. Like if he let go, it might all disappear.

It wasn’t awkward.

It wasn’t loud.

It was just…different.

Softer. Heavier. A stillness that settled between you like shared breath. The world didn’t shift with a bang, but something unspoken clicked into place, quiet and sure like how you always knew you were meant to find your way back to him.

You still messaged the same way stupid memes, check-ins, late-night “did you eat?” texts but something about the timing changed. His replies came faster. Your words lingered longer before you hit send. And the silence between messages stretched not with absence, but with anticipation. A little thrill of “what are we now?” echoing quietly every time you looked at your screen.

The next time he came over, he didn’t knock.

He let himself in, as always, but this time when you turned the corner into the hallway, he kissed your cheek before saying anything. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like he’d been doing it forever.

And maybe, in a way, he had just not out loud.

That night, when you curled up beside him again under your well-worn blanket, the space between you narrowed with ease. His arm draped over your shoulder with the same hesitance you'd seen in his eyes when he first took your hand the night before cautious, hopeful. He was giving you an out, if you wanted one.

Instead, you leaned in closer, resting your head against his collarbone.

Your voice came out like a secret. “Is this okay?”

He tilted his head down, met your eyes really looked.

“Yeah,” he said, warm and steady. “If you want it to be.”

And you did. God, you did.

You just didn’t know how to be in love with your best friend without fumbling the very thing you’d both spent years unknowingly building.

The first time you went out in public again not as just friends, but not quite a couple either was for lunch at that little café tucked behind the bookshop you both liked. You sat beside him instead of across. Close enough to feel the brush of his sleeve every time he lifted his coffee.

At one point, his hand found your knee under the table. Not deliberate. Not bold. Just... there. And your heart fluttered like a teenager with her first crush.

No one looked twice. But you did.

Every second.

He’d say something funny that dry, quiet kind of wit that had always made you laugh and you’d look at him with new eyes. Like, how did I miss this for so long? His lips curved, and you caught yourself watching his mouth, remembering what it had felt like against yours.

He noticed.

And he smiled like he couldn’t help it.

“Do you think this is weird?” you asked, peeling at the corner of your napkin.

Lewis shook his head gently, brushing his thumb across the back of your hand beneath the table. “No. But I think we’ve both been scared of it for a long time.”

You looked up, searching his face.

“Are you still scared?”

“A little,” he admitted. “But not of loving you.”

It didn’t escalate right away.

He never rushed. Never asked for more than you were ready to give. Just lingered a little longer when he touched you. A hand on your back when you passed each other in the hallway. A brush of his fingers down your arm as he handed you a cup of tea. A forehead pressed to yours in that quiet moment before goodbye.

He kissed you like it was a promise. Every time. Like it was sacred.

The first night he stayed over again after everything you shared your bed.

Fully clothed. Fully comfortable.

You lay with your head on his chest, legs tangled together beneath the covers, his hand gently resting against your spine like he was grounding you. His heartbeat was steady, strong beneath your ear.

“Is this real?” you whispered into the dark.

His voice was husky, drowsy. “Been real for me since we were kids.”

You tilted your head up, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

He caught the shift in your expression and kissed your forehead so gently it nearly broke you.

You didn’t say I love you yet.

But you felt it in every moment he reached for you when you woke up panicked from a dream, in the way he stayed quiet when you needed silence and spoke only when your shoulders relaxed enough to listen.

There were bumps.

You panicked one morning when Luna asked casually if you were back on the dating apps, and your mouth opened before your brain could catch up. You froze, unsure what to say, unsure if you could say anything yet. It wasn’t a secret. But it wasn’t public either. Not quite yours to explain without him.

Lewis noticed that night, when you sat a little further away on the couch. When you went quiet in the way that meant your mind was spinning too fast for your own good.

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t push.

He just came by the next morning with your favourite coffee, still warm, and a gentle smile on his face.

“Still with me?” he asked quietly, holding out the cup.

You took it with both hands, eyes soft. “I just - I don’t want to ruin this.”

He leaned in, brushing his thumb across your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You won’t,” he murmured. “We’ve already been through the worst, haven’t we?”

Your breath hitched as you looked at him. All the versions of him you’d loved. The boy who sat beside you in class, the teenager who walked you home in the rain, the man who now held you like you were something precious.

You leaned forward and rested your forehead against his.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “And you stayed.”

“Always.”

The first time you told him you loved him; it wasn’t a grand gesture.

It was late. He’d just come back from a long race weekend a brutal one. You’d watched the whole thing on your laptop, biting your nails and yelling at the screen like he could hear you. When he finally walked through your door, tired and rumpled and so painfully familiar, you didn’t even think. You just moved.

You threw your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him in motor oil and cologne and something warm beneath it all.

“I love you,” you whispered into his collar.

He stilled.

Then slowly, his arms wrapped around your waist. Tighter. Closer.

He pulled back just enough to see your face, his eyes wide, like he wanted to make sure you meant it.

You did.

He smiled that small, private smile he’d only ever given to you and exhaled like he’d been holding it in for years.

“Finally,” he said. “I can say it back.”

And he did.

He said it again that night, between kisses that were slower than usual. Deeper. Kisses that said I missed you and thank you and I’ve been waiting for this for so long.

He said it the next morning, when he woke up to find you still wrapped around him, one hand curled beneath his t-shirt like you’d anchored yourself there in sleep.

He said it the morning after that, too.

And every day after, like it had been sitting on the tip of his tongue for a decade.

And now, he never had to hold it back again.

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