#like you’d think oh the professors because they have less to read. but then they make more work for themselves by giving you all this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nereidprinc3ss · 3 months

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okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.”

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief.

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.”

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.”

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication.

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest.

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.”

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest.

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.”

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you.

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.”

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there.

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday.

---------------------------------------------------

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence.

“Can we talk?”

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph.

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?”

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!”

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth.

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with.

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.”

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?”

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins.

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.”

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?”

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad.

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you.

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.”

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake.

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm.

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.”

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.”

He chuckles.

“At an entirely different university.”

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident.

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.”

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?”

Spencer sighs.

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.”

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin.

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected.

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.”

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you

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rodolfoparras · 4 months

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Hear me out professor! Price with black slacks, white button up rolled up to his elbows and with glasses resting on the bridge of his nose.

Cw: age gap, reader is in his 20s!, power dynamic student professor relationship 18+, perv! Price,

He absolutely loves the subject he teaches but hates his students since they couldn’t care less about his lectures.

More often than not he’s talking to himself since his students busy themselves with something else, writing down theories on his whiteboard that he’s sure his students won’t take note of or keeps his nose buried in one of those thick books on his desk to hide the frown on his face.

It’s another early morning, he’s sipping on his coffee while going over today’s lecture notes, cussing to himself when the hot liquid burns his tongue.

It doesn’t take much before students are pouring into the lecture hall and he readies himself to start, a slight irritation brewing within him knowing he’ll probably spend the whole time talking to himself again.

And he isn’t wrong as soon as the lecture starts, he’s glued to his whiteboard while his students are glued to their phones, but not even he is focusing on what he’s writing this time because soon he hears a student behind him correcting him on whatever he’d been writing.

Price turns so fast he almost snaps his neck, a look of suprise clear on his face and in that very moment he could only muster up a very intelligent “huh”

As he looks into the sea of students he’s met with your steady gaze and the very obvious smile painted on your lips.

“Professor Price, no where in the book does it say…” Price doesn’t even register your words, still baffled by the fact that someone is actually participating in his lesson and once again he manages to muster up another intelligent answer - “oh?”

But his responses don’t seem to throw you off as you read up your notes that completely contrast to what’s written on the board.

Price doesn’t even need to fact check. He knows that he got it wrong but he didn’t think anyone paid enough attention to notice.

But you did.

“Looks like you’re right Mr..?” Price asks with brows eyes and arms crossed

You tell him your name with a small smile on your face and that’s one of the few times someone spoke up during his lectures.

And a few days later it happens again and again, and again and soon it becomes a back and forth discussion that even manages to garner the other students’ attention.

He’ll say something you’ll question it. He’ll explain himself with arms cross and a brow raised and you’ll appear more satisfied by his reaction rather than his answer.

One day he’ll even have you up at the board to explain where he got his explanation wrong. He thought you’d be like a deer in headlight but you sounded ever so confident when you explained your thoughts.

Price liked that.

He’d even managed to create somewhat of a friendship between you and him which is laughable because never did he think he’d manage to create a bond with one of his students. But you’ll sometimes drop by during your breaks asking if he needs any help or even eat lunch with him. He’d just scoff and roll his eyes at the first part because who’s the professor here again? However there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Price tried to keep it professional he really did. but every little banter of yours would have blood rushing to his lower half.

Every time you walked up to the board to explain something he’d imagine himself flush against it, with your deep baritone voice whispering in his ear and big strong hands wandering all over his body.

He no longer pondered over how his students never paid attention to his lectures but rather he’d wonder about how they’d react with him completely naked, splayed out on his desk, and being split open on your dick, mouth agape eyes half lidded while glued to the crowd in front of him unable to get a word out, only able to focus on how good it feels being stretched around your cock

“Professor Price? The lecture is about to start”

#call of duty #john price x reader #john price x male reader #john price #captain john price #captain john price x male reader #captain john price x reader #top male reader #bottom male character #x male reader #male reader #is this the birth of a new price character

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visionofhope04 · 6 months

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Here for the angst of neglected batsis, imagine or hc them of moving out if the house when they are 18 and let's say they meet some spirit and they have their memory wiped and transfer to the marvel universe to restart their life and more happy, then the dc/marvel merge together because of a big threat and batfam sees batsis is heavily pregnant and married to our favorite deadpool charater Colossus?

How would they reached if batsis just can't remember them and keeps on telling them they have the wrong person?

I LIKE THE WAY YOU THINK. Guess who's back!! Sorry it took me so long to get this out, I haven't had the motivation to write until recently. Also OOC warning bc I don't really know him well besides the Deadpool movies. I almost freaked out bc I haven't used the tumblr website in so long and it got updated so I thought I lost all my drafts. So glad they're still here, whew. Not beta read so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes!

---

It's been a year since moving into your apartment and you couldn't be happier. College was going well and you were taking classes you enjoyed. However, you haven't made any friends yet which led you to spend your free time reading or surfing the web. Jason didn't come by much due to having his own life and vigilante things, which you understood. It didn't mean you couldn't be a little bit sad about it though.

Even though you were enjoying your life, you still felt as if there was something missing. You'd been trying to figure out why you had felt this way but nothing came to mind. Any time you tried to brush off the feeling, it came back stronger. You did your best to ignore it and continue on with life, but it was always there, nagging you.

It had been a long day. College was so stressful. Your professors kept hurling projects at you that had deadlines that were practically impossible to meet. You just wanted it to end already and be on summer break. Then, you’d be able to sleep how long you wanted to without the fear of being late for class or forgetting to complete an assignment.

You sat down at your desk and pulled out your laptop, preparing to continue an essay that was due in three days. Suddenly, you began to feel nauseous. Confused, you attempted to ignore the feeling in favor of completing the essay. A few seconds after trying to focus on your laptop screen, you saw a bright light.

"My child, you will be saved from this life." A strangely comforting voice said.

Then everything faded to black.

---

"Hello?!"

A voice. A voice? But you live alone and no one has the spare key to your apartment. You slowly opened your eyes, groaning and quickly shutting them again once a bright light blinded you.

"Oh you're alive, thank God. Can you speak?" Whoever this was seemed to have been panicking before, slightly less though now that you had indicated you were alive. You groan as you push yourself up off of what seems to be concrete. Concrete? You're definitely not in your apartment. You crack your eyes open again, this time with less difficulty, and come face to face with white lenses of a mask. Blinking again, you register that the lenses are attached to a red material with black lines.

"Ah!"

"AH!" The figure yells and jumps back, startled by your sudden surprise.

"What the hell are you supposed to be?" You asked, tilting your head slightly to the side.

"What do you mean? I'm Spiderman." His voice was a bit high pitched, he sounded like a teen at most.

"Spiderman? You've got to be joking. There is no Spiderman. Go home kid, crime fighting isn't a game." Sure, you may be a hypocrite, seeing as you are an ex-assassin who began learning how to kill at around 5, but at least you had training. What did this Spiderman have? From how startled he was, you assumed he had barely been trained, if at all.

“What? I'm literally Spiderman! I'm Queens' hero!"

"Queens, New York?" You thought you'd still be in New Jersey at least.

"Uh yeah. I don't think there are any other places called Queens that have a Spiderman."

"Again, Spiderman? Seriously? You couldn't think of a better name at least?"

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with Spiderman!"

"Sure kid, keep telling yourself that."

He was about to protest when suddenly, someone else dropped into the alley.

"Hey Spidey, who's this lovely lady?" A person in an all red with black suit with two swords on his back and guns strapped to his waist called out. The person seemed to be a male, around 30 years old.

"This 'lovely lady' is very confused. Who are you?" They keep multiplying, and you'd never seen this person either.

"Did you hit your head or something? You've never heard of or seen Deadpool? The most handsomest, most awesomest, funniest, killer crime fighter?"

"Uh nope. Also, I'm from Jersey, how did I end up here?"

"Good question. What's your name?"

"Oh, it's-" You stopped in confusion. "I actually don't remember. It was just at the tip of my tongue but I don't remember."

"Oh great! Amnesia! Just what we need. I'll let you handle her Spidey and I'll go stop some bad guys, 'kay?"

"What! No, don't leave me here!" Deadpool was already sprinting away.

"Let's get you to the base. Colossus and the others will know what to do."

---

They did not, in fact, know what to do. Colossus sent Negasonic and Yukio to contact Professor X, while Spiderman went to contact Tony Stark (I'm still emotionally scarred from Endgame so no, he won't be dead, this is my fanfic and I can keep him alive if I want to) and Deadpool went back out to patrol. You were left alone with Colossus.

Uncomfortable silence sat between you. Just as you were beginning to get antsy, Colossus broke it first.

"Do you remember anything at all?"

"I'm... a college student. I live alone in an apartment in New Jersey, I think. I used to fight crime until... I don't know, it's fuzzy. I'm an ex-assassin who has been training since I was 5. That's all I remember."

"You can remember that but not your name?"

"Look, I don't know okay? I don't know what's happening or why I can't remember anything else. I want to remember who I am, but I can't. And it's so... so frustrating! Your suspicion is understandable, but it is not helping."

"I apologize. This is a stressful situation for you. I will be more considerate."

"Thank you."

---

They could not figure out what happened to you or why you suddenly appeared in Queens one day. Your memory remained fuzzy, so you were stuck. As time passed, you and Colossus grew closer. You became so close that he told you his real name, you became a couple, and you got married. Seven years passed, you were 25 and you'd been trying for a baby. You both felt the time was right and that you'd be able to handle parenting.

Colossus came home from work one day, spent and tired. There you were, waiting for him at the door as usual.

"Hi my love, long day?" You fiddled with the positive pregnancy test behind your back.

"Yes darling, when is it not?"

"Well, we're going to have to figure something out, because there's no way I'll wake up every night to take care of our baby."

He looked confused, then realization hit. "You're..?" He looked so happy and hopeful, you couldn't contain your happiness. A huge smile lit up your face.

"Yes, we're finally going to be parents!" You pulled out the pregnancy test and held it up to him.

He laughed a joyful laugh, tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes as he embraced you. It must've been infectious because you began to tear up too. You remained in each other's embrace for a while, just existing in the moment. Time felt irrelevant as you basked in your shared delight.

---

8 months later, your belly had swollen and grown. Everyone was happy for the both of you. You and Colossus were both eager for your little one to arrive. You'd both decided to wait for birth to find out the gender. It didn't matter to you whether it was a boy or girl, just that they were healthy (gender's a construct anyway). The pregnancy had been going great so far, but this time of easy-going was about to get ruined by your husband's job.

---

Your world had merged with another because of some cosmic threat. Great! Your husband would be preoccupied trying to fix the situation, which meant that you'd be alone. Selfishly, you wished that they could let your husband stay with you so close to your due date, but you knew he had a role to play in saving two worlds.

Seeing your loneliness, Colossus decided to bring you with him to the Avengers' base. He hoped you'd be able to befriend some of the people there. You entered the compound and your eyes were drawn to some men standing beside a set of double doors. They all had suits on, black hair (one guy had two white streaks in his hair) and most had blue eyes, except for one man who had green eyes. He was also noticeably the darkest of the group. They felt familiar to you, especially the man with green eyes. Have you met them before? Who were they?

As your husband was discussing some details about the meeting, you couldn't help but watch the group of men. Not knowing why you thought you knew them annoyed you. As if they could feel your eyes on them (they could), they turned around in sync and locked eyes with you.

Their eyes widened and they all exclaimed your name in various degrees of disbelief. They rushed over to you and your husband protectively stepped in front of you

"How do you know my wife?"

"Wife?!" Some of them shouted. They were beginning to cause a scene.

"You're pregnant." The one with green eyes observed. He seemed to be having some sort of crisis.

All their eyes darted to your belly, making you uncomfortable. You placed your hand over your stomach and attempted to discretely hide behind your husband. This did not go unnoticed by them.

"You don't remember us?" The shortest of them questioned.

"No, I've never met you guys." You were very confused.

The man who appeared to be the oldest said your name. You stared at him as he studied your eyes, presumably to see if you were lying. It made you feel vulnerable and unsettled, couldn't they leave you alone?

"We're your family."

The guy with the white streaks in his hair scoffed. "You didn't treat her like she was family. I was the only one who cared for her when she was younger while you all ignored her and let her suffer. I'm glad she doesn't remember what you all did to her. She's clearly living a much better life without you lot in it."

This was getting more confusing by the second, although you felt there was truth to his words. Did you forget these people? They seemed very convincing if they were lying.

"I'm sorry but I really don't remember you guys. Maybe you have the wrong person?"

"No we don't! You disappeared one day and now that we've finally found you, you're saying you forgot everything!"

"That is enough. Please leave my wife alone, she does not know you, and she does not need the unnecessary stress of trying to remember people she's never met. Do not approach her anymore." Colossus guided you away from the men, who stared longingly at you. The heartbroken expressions they had after your husband's speech would follow you often. Were you sure you'd never met them before?

---

Words: 1,847

#batfamily #batfam #batfam x reader #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd #avengers x platonic reader #colossus #colossus x reader #tim drake #damian wayne #batfam x neglected!batsis!reader

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iwillneverforgiveyousunghanbin · 2 months

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bully⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

friday, kim taerae— select choir

⋆˙⟡ zbully1 smut series masterlist! hanbin, jiwoong, hao, matthew, and taerae included. game day (group) chapter here. all 7 endings here.

⋆˙⟡ wc: 2.7k

⋆˙⟡ reader: just one gn!reader version for this (no pronouns are used at all to describe reader; reader is describe as having a "pretty" mouth but no gendered or femme language)

⋆˙⟡ series summary: five bullies. six days. it's gonna be a hell of a week, babe. stay hydrated.

⋆˙⟡ friday summary: it's the end of the most bizarre week of your life. last year, you would've been overjoyed to spend time in select choir with your friend kim taerae. but that all went down the drain after hanbin recruited him into his group of incessant jerks... and he's desperate to officially be one of the guys.

⋆˙⟡ warnings: explicit smut. 18+. minors do not interact. please read specific smut warnings under the cut! swearing. angst. slight dub-con. bullying. the lore for taerae is so SAD. i'll make sure his ending is happy, i promise. also we've got a ft. hanbin chapter but just in digital form.

⋆˙⟡ bully scale: ★★★★★ (5.0)

(idk the bully scale is subjective but like imagine your best friend saying this shit about you WHY IS HE DOING THAT OMG jk i know why and soon you will too)

EXPLICIT SMUT 18+ WARNINGS: oral, (taerae receiving), throat fucking (reader receiving), brief handjob and heavy petting (taerae receiving), cumming without warning in mouth, filming of sexual act, voyeur!hanbin, slight dubcon but like for both of them kind of idk you'll see but it's slight, bullying, the usual.

friday.

you should be elated that this week is nearly over. and you are. mostly, anyway.

but there was an indescribable thrill to all this that you couldn’t seem to shake. all that talk of ravens yesterday had got you thinking...

why did you dislike ravens in the first place?

thinking. crying. haphazardly finishing all of your assignments due friday that you’d procrastinated the whole week. urgent texts to and from mina after her ✨jiwoong oppa✨ stood her up for their date.

one thing was for certain: you desperately need sleep.

that’s why you’re currently falling asleep sitting up, hard-back music folder open in your hands as professor yoo works with the bass section. the lowest notes of “requiem” are soft and soothing and, for you at this sleep-deprived moment, very dangerous.

luckily a sharp elbow to the shoulder jolts the drowsiness right out of you.

you look to your left to find kim taerae giving you one of the most judgmental glares you’ve ever earned in your life.

you would expect nothing less from him.

at one time a judgmental glare from taerae was the equivalent of a hug. you returned the gesture happily. and also threw in some hugs whenever he’d let you. he squirmed a bit, but the big smile that would grow on his face made it all worth it.

but there’s no warmth behind his eyes now. just a sharp elbow pointed at you, threatening to strike again if you didn’t shape up quick enough.

“you’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” he warns with a frown.

you roll your eyes. “why do you care?”

“because, unfortunately, some people still think we’re friends,” he says, making thin lines with his pencil on a page of his sheet music. “and i don’t want to suffer the social consequences of your embarrassing actions.”

“mm,” you agree wordlessly. “guess i should’ve thought of that myself.”

he doesn’t respond for a few moments, eyes focused on his sheet music until an audible sigh comes from his direction. “why are you so tired anyway? s’not like you.”

“for all you know, it could be,” you retort with a huff. “maybe i’m a real night owl now. maybe i’m out partying or smoking or... something.”

taerae snorts. “jiwoong hyung was not lying about those tragic acting skills.”

“oh, fuck off,” you reply.

his eyes widen. and then promptly squint with suspicion. “since when did you swear like that?”

you frown, trying to discern what he could mean. hadn’t you always been this uninhibited with your tongue?

the answer was no. you hadn’t. and this new speech pattern of yours had a very specific origin: monday afternoon. you exhale a chuckle. maybe you had yet to realize the full extent of how this week has changed you.

and how your desire to change back continues to dwindle.

you just shrug, returning your focus to your music. you feel taerae’s eyes on you as you track your vocal section’s part in “requiem”.

you and taerae had purposefully chosen seats next to each other in choir last year so that you could goof off together during every possible free moment. it was also convenient for your parents, who always wanted to get pictures of you two together during concerts ever since high school.

now you wish you went to different universities altogether.

ironically, you might’ve had a better chance of remaining friends if you’d had distance. but you and taerae disagreed quite adamantly at the time.

halfway through your two-hour rehearsal, you’re allowed a fifteen minute break to grab water and stretch your legs. you always wander off down the empty storage hallway, where your favorite vending machine is hidden in plain sight— the one with the oreos and cheez-its and bugles in it.

pulling out your debit card, you insert the chip into the machine and punch in the number for the snack of your choosing. you watch happily as it falls down from it’s spiral prison into the dispenser below. you start to bend down when a hand reaches in before you and grabs your snack.

“hey, what the—…” you trail off as you come face to face with a cavernous dimple. “give it back. now.”

“you’re so touchy today,” taerae condemns with a click of his tongue. he holds your snack high above his head, dangling it in a challenge. “seriously, what’s gotten into you this week?”

“oh, you know exactly what,” you huff, reaching for the snack in vain.

taerae laughs. “i guess a better question would be: what hasn’t gotten into you this week?”

“you’re so fucking funny,” you snap, fingers finally closing around the wrapper as you yank it down.

taerae’s brow is raised in surprise, not really caring about the repossession of the snack. “seriously, i’m not used to you swearing like that. i’m not sure if i like it.”

“i assumed there was nothing you liked about me anymore,” you retort, tearing open your snack and shoveling the processed glory down your throat.

“that’s not true,” he replies, hand suddenly reaching to your face. he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, a crumb transferring from you to him. he brings his thumb to his own lips and tastes it. “i still like your pretty mouth.”

when you finally manage to pick your jaw up off the ground, you shake your head. “i know you don’t think of me like that.”

“uh...” taerae mumbles awkwardly, glancing at the row of shelves behind you. “sure, i do.”

“oh yeah? how about mina’s pool party two years ago? when we—.”

“OH, actually you—,” he interjects urgently, glaring at you to shut up. normally you would. but after this week, you no longer feel bound to quiet compliance. “you don’t need to—.”

“—were playing spin the bottle and it landed on me and you threw up in the pool because you were so disgusted by the mere thought of kissing me—”

his lips crash onto yours, hand cupping your cheek. it’s a demanding, yet tentative kiss and you’re even more confused when it ends.

you take a step backward, folding your arms across your chest.

“can you just—...” taerae grabs your arm and pulls you closer to him, glancing again at the row of shelves behind you. “yes, that’s perfect.”

“what’s perfect?” you ask with a frown, starting to grow immune to strange behavior after the week you’ve had.

“oh, um.... you,” taerae answers after a moment with a smirk. “you were always so perfect, (y/n). perfect grades. perfect manners. perfect body. i used to jump at the chance to sleep over when your mom would let me. you used to beg her until she finally said yes, because she knew you'd never misbehave. remember, honey?"

eyes wide at the dark shift in his tone, you nod slowly.

“you were so innocent... you slept shirtless, for fuck's sake. peacefully dreaming, while i pretended to be asleep on the floor,” he continues, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “hoping i wouldn't wake you up if i just lifted the covers to get a peek."

when you thought the worst of your pain this week was over…

“tae,” you breathe, eyes watering— pleading for this not to be true. it couldn’t be. at least... not in the vulgar way he was describing it. "you don't mean that."

at the sound of your despair, there's a momentary flash in his eyes. regret. you still know him like the back of your hand.

“why are you doing this?” you ask, hands flying to cup either side of his face. he flinches, trying his best not to look you in the eye again. trying not to let you see. “you don’t have to be my friend anymore if you really don’t want to. but i don’t know why you want to be like them when you’re miles better than they’ll ever—.”

“alright, that’s enough.”

the muffled, tinny voice comes out of nowhere. you look around your immediate surroundings, trying to discern where it came from.

“c’mon, you were doing so well,” the voice rings again. “you said you had this under control, bud. was i wrong to put my trust in you?”

“no, hyung,” taerae answers, shaking his head. “i—… i can do it.”

“hanbinnie?” you ask and then cough awkwardly to cover up the fact you just called your arch nemesis so affectionately. yesterday must’ve gotten to you more than you know. “i mean, hanbin-ah! what the actual hell is going on?”

“no need to worry about it, sweetheart,” hanbin’s voice dismisses again. taerae’s eyes dart towards the shelves behind you once more. you follow his gaze— jaw dropping when you see two camera lenses staring back at you.

“what—...” you fumble, shaking your head in disbelief as you look at the back of taerae’s phone— propped up with a black music folder. “you’re recording this!?”

“afraid so,” hanbin answers for taerae. “i didn’t really think he could follow through without some supervision. don’t mind me though. unless you just can’t help yourself...”

while at the beginning of this week a situation as perverted and bizarre as this would’ve had your whole nervous system shutting down, you’re still standing tall. present in this strange moment. you smirk.

“aw, tae,” you coo mockingly, turning to your former friend. “how sentimental of you...”

a brow arches in confusion back at you. “what are you––?”

“of course you’d wanna capture such a special moment on camera,” you continue with a patronizing nod. “it’s not every day that you lose your virginity.”

“HEY THAT’S—…” taerae starts to yell at you for sharing this embarrassing personal detail that you’re sure he never disclosed to hanbin. “that’s… that’s not true.”

“oh come on, it’s nothing to be ashamed of,” you twist the metaphorical knife as hanbin stifles a laugh. “i’d be happy to help you out with that, since i was the one who had to listen to you whine for four years about how you were still. a. fucking—”

two fingers are down your throat in an instant. you gag, trying to step backwards, but taerae’s hand finds the back of your head— holding you in place. he removes his fingers slowly, pupils dilating when you whimper in fear.

“i’ve decided i don’t like the swearing,” he says, a sickening hint of sweetness in his tone. any upperhand you had is now gone as he traces your lips with his thumb. “such a pretty mouth. those filthy words shouldn’t be coming out of it.”

“y-you don’t get to decide that,” you stammer unconvincingly.

“so that’s what you really want, then?” he asks, sticking his thumb further into your mouth. you suck obediently. “you wanna have a filthy mouth?”

you nod, his thumb still pressed against your tongue— cheeks hollowed out as taerae bites his lip hungrily.

“then you can have it,” he says before removing his thumb from your mouth and pressing down on your neck and shoulder— forcing you to your knees in front of him. you guess joining the soccer team had really improved his strength. “just remember it’s what you said you wanted.”

taerae unbuttons his jeans, pulling the zipper down. he freezes, clearly unsure of what to do next. maybe this is your opportunity to wiggle your way out of this. if only your curiosity wasn’t equally as strong.

“we––... i have to audition after this,” you protest weakly. “when break’s over, i have to audition for the solo i’ve been prepping for so i want to keep my voice warm right now and—.”

“ah, that’s right. i did forget about that,” he affirms, looking up at the ceiling in thought before smirking back down at you. “but i think i can help keep it pretty warm, actually.”

your attempt to level with taerae only seems to encourage him as he pulls down his jeans and boxer-briefs. you inhale sharply as his hard cock comes to eye-level, so close you can really examine it. though it’s slightly smaller than hanbin’s, it’s thicker and you need to know immediately how it feels in your hand.

“whoah, you—,” taerae stumbles, eyes wide as you take him eagerly in your hand. he stares at you, lips parted as you start to pump him. “holy shit.”

“you’re sure you wanna do this?” you ask, pausing your motion to make eye contact with him. you can tell he doesn’t want you to stop, but there’s conflict lingering there that he just can’t seem to hide.

taerae clears his throat, shaking his head as he resumes his tough guy act. eyes cold once more, he shrugs. “a hole’s a hole.”

after a year of judgmental berating from your former best friend, it was almost comforting to know that he was capable of being even meaner than he already was. it meant that, for whatever reason, he usually didn’t want to be any meaner to you.

he takes both of your hands in one of his, keeping you from using them as his other hand finds the back of your neck again— guiding your face towards his cock. taerae doesn’t need to give much guidance though. you’re aching to get a taste and the way your lips sink down around him nearly knocks the wind out of him.

back pressed against the side of the vending machine, his thumb presses into your cheek— feeling himself inside of your pretty mouth. you swirl your tongue around his tip, causing him to moan softly.

there’s a little bit of rustling coming from where taerae’s phone is propped up on the shelf. you wonder if hanbin’s enjoying this. if he’s touching himself— wishing he was throat deep in you instead.

“c’mon, bud. is (y/n) running this show or are you?” hanbin asks, tone laden with frustration.

“i—... i am,” taerae asserts, grip tightening across the back of your neck.

he starts to thrust gently into your mouth, an action that you’re not so familiar with. it rattles you a bit— loss of control after feeling like you were gaining it back.

“this is what you asked for, baby,” he reminds you, shallow thrusts starting to venture a bit deeper. “remember? you said you wanted a filthy mouth. so i’m gonna make a mess of it.”

you find the right rhythm to breathe through the thrusts. the tip of his cock is dangerously close to entering your throat, sending another wave of anxiety through you. but it’s not for long.

your eyes meet taerae’s and, though he’s the one putting you in that danger, you suddenly feel very safe. you let out a sigh, the vibration causing him to mewl. he scratches at your neck affectionately, putting pressure against it to feel himself inside you as he fucks your throat.

“see, keeping that throat nice and warm,” taerae coos as his breathing gets heavier— and his moaning gets louder. “take me so well, i—.”

“shut the fuck up, dude,” hanbin scolds, his own breath growing labored. “do you wanna get caught before you can win the—?”

before hanbin can finish his thought, you feel a warm, sticky liquid begin to pour down your throat. you pull off of taerae, sputtering and coughing as you try to swallow it down. wiping your mouth, you look up at taerae who is looking at you like he wants to dive straight into the han river and never return.

“for fucks sake, are you actually a virgin or something?” hanbin asks angrily. “is that really all you can last for? and, jesus, you’ve gotta warn someone before you do that.”

your throat is starting to burn and you’d love to be able to say something, anything, but the rasp that comes out isn’t pleasant-feeling. you rub at your throat with your now-free hands as taerae’s expression just turns more horrified.

“did i... did i hurt you? fuck, i didn’t mean to—,” taerae starts to babble uselessly until hanbin claps loudly.

“good work, team!” he says as he finishes his round of applause. “mvp definitely goes to me, for coming up with this idea in the first place. i’ll see the campus activities secretary at the big game tomorrow, right?”

“mm,” is all you can croak out. you wish it sounded angrier.

“and i’ll see you at practice tonight, man. i—,” hanbin cuts himself off with a confused look. “wait, where did he go?”

you face forward, expecting to see taerae standing next to the vending machine but... hanbin’s right. he’s vanished.

“that kid’s a piece of work,” hanbin says, shaking his head. “you think he’d be more grateful after i took him under my wing and made him popular. i even got him a spot on the soccer team after a lot of private coaching. i mean, he’s benched for life, but still!”

you’re a saint among men, is what you wish you could say. instead, you just roll your eyes.

“just take his phone and give it back to him in class, will you?” hanbin asks as you stand up and make your way toward the shelves. “and drink some hot tea for that throat, okay? throw some honey in it and you’ll be good as new for tomorrow, i promise.”

you sigh. and you nod. and you pick up taerae’s phone and end the video call.

and you go back to choir and sit in your black music chair and wait for taerae to come back, but he doesn’t. and when it’s time to audition for the solo you’ve been preparing for, you stay seated and quiet.

seated and quiet.

like you’ve been for so long.

and when practice ends and the choir room is empty and you remain seated and quiet in your black music chair and tears begin to well up in your eyes, you don’t cry.

you smile.

you stand up.

you shout (briefly, so as not to disturb anyone in neighboring classrooms).

at some point or another, you forgot how to do these things. or you were made to feel like you couldn’t or shouldn’t.

but that’s who you really are.

who you were always meant to be.

not a juliet. not a violin. not a goalie. not a bird. not a pretty mouth.

you.

you pick up your bag off the floor (and taerae’s) and throw them both over your shoulder, making a beeline toward the door.

absolutely, hanbinnie, you think. you’ll see me at the big game.

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heejayy · 1 year

Text

Shuri U. || Focus pt. 2 (smut ver.)

Warning • adult language, MDNI, 18+

Genre • smut

Pairing • Professor Shuri x black fem! Student Reader

A/n: These have the same beginnings but different endings.

Fluff Ver.

You took your professor up on her offer and called her over the weekend. She said she wasn’t busy and that you could come over.

You hung up confused by what she meant again, you thought she was going to meet you at a cafe but she invited you to her home.

You stood on the porch of the most lavish home you’ve ever seen, but you expected nothing less for a queen. You knocked a few times before the door swiftly flung open.

“You made it” she smiled opening the door wider “come in.”

You entered adjusting your bag as you looked around. It was such an amazing home you couldn’t even fathom living here.

“You’re home is beyond beautiful.”

“Thank you” she smiled “why don’t we go to my study” she placed a hand on your lower back guiding to her home office. Even the smallest, most innocent touches from her makes your body tingle.

“Alright let’s get started” she pulled out her laptop while you pulled out your notes.

“Ok so show me what we need to go over” you nodded flipping through your notes to the page covered in highlighted questions.

“Oh well-“ you giggled nervouslya bit taking it upon her self to look through your notes. You felt a bit ashamed and sunk into your seat, she must’ve noticed because she placed comforting hand on your knee giving it a light squeeze.

“Hey don’t worry this is what I’m here for” you mind went fuzzy thinking about her hand so close to your-

“Are you alright?” She asked leaning a bit closer.

“Y-yeah I’m fine” you have her a tight lip smile hoping it was believable.

You two spent the next few hours studying going over class material. You kept getting distracted in between mostly due to your ADHD but also because she kept getting closer and closer. You two were so close at this point your thighs we’re touching.

“So why’d you decide to become a professor?” You quizzed twirling your pencil between your fingers.

“Hmm well I wanted to share my knowledge with the world I figured since everything settled down with my country I could venture out and do my own thing” you nodded understanding. She’s such an inspirational person you thought.

“So since we’re done for today I wanted to know what you had planned for later on?” You eyebrows rise at such a random question like that coming from her.

“Oh well I nothing really do some grocery shopping and then head back home” she nodded tapping her fingers on her wooden table it was a bit of awkward silence for a bit.

“Professor Udaku?”

“Yes?”

“I still don’t feel confident enough in taking this exam. What if I fail? Should I just quit school or-“

“Y/n?” You perked up at the sound of your name. It was the first time she actually called you by your first name. You liked the way she said your name

“Yes?” You answered. She took her time before answering eyeing you up and down. You felt like you were completely naked in front of her right now which wouldn’t be a bad thing.

“We are both adults right?” She leaned forward from her man spreading positing still keeping eye contact with you. You gulped nodding slowly.

“Good so tell me what would you do to pass?” You breathing became ragged as she slid her chair closer.

“Wh-what do you mean? I-“

“Don’t act dumb cutie you know exactly what I mean” you adjusted yourself in your seat trying to process what was going on. Was she implying that if you sleep with her you’d pass? Or are you reading this whole situation wrong. While thinking over your next move she took your chin in between her thumb and index finger lifting your head up to look at her.

“So what do you say do you wanna pass or not?”

Obviously you chose the right logical option there was no other choice to make. And that’s how you ended up in this position, face down ass up.

Shuri’s had her nails sunk into your hips as she roughly pulled you back against her. Her room was with lewd sounds mixed with moans and skin slapping against each other.

“Oh oohhh shit sh-Shuri” she had your head pressed into her pillow as she abused your cunt with her strap. You felt like a complete slut right, back arched, drool sliding down your cheek and your eyes rolled to the back of your head but you didn’t care it felt good.

“You like that pretty girl, hmm?” She yanked your head up waiting for you to answer, but all what came out was a strained moan. She let out a soft chuckling as she slowed down.

“Sit up baby, come on I want you to ride me” you listened quickly sitting on your back, Shuri barely let you get adjusted for she grabbed pulling you onto her.

You slid down on her into with ease causing your eyes to roll fluttering shut “you’re such a good girl for me aren’t you?” she moaned against your neck and she left kisses along with a few bite marks.

“Shuri p-please” you begged her over and over as you bounced on her.

“Nnghh shit!” You sped up trying to reach your high, your thighs started to burn but you didn’t care.

“God you’re a little slut huh? Fucking me for a good grade?” She asked pulling you closer to her, she brought you into a bear hug and she help you ride her. She rested her head in the crook of your neck feeling herself in the verge of coming too.

“Oh shit I’m cl-close! Fuck!” You couldn’t hold it anymore as you came undone on her. Your moans were drawn out as your body went limp in her arms but she kept thrusting into you helping you ride out your high and soon after she came too.

“Shit that was good” she breathed as you slowly climbed off laying besides her.

“That did feel good” you gave her a small smile pulling the quilt over your naked body. She did the same as she propped her head on her hand taking a moment to stare at you.

She leaned in leaving a peck on your lips “You’re definitely getting that A.”

Shuri Masterlist

©heejayy 2023 — any reposts or translations of my works outside of tumblr are strictly prohibited unless granted permission 🤍

#shuri smut #ask heejayy #letitia x reader #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #shuri x black!fem reader #shuri x you #lesbian #marvel #shuri imagines #shuri udaku #letitia wright shuri #shuri x black!reader #shuri fanfiction

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sky-kiss · 6 months

Note

Do you have anything else for the Barista/Prof AU?! Its one of my absolute favs!! 👉👈

Overnight, a delicate blanket of snow has accumulated. Tav smiles, her breath fogging the glass, and she brushes it away. It’s been years since they had a proper snow day; the city looks clean, silent, and white. The barista settles, a book in her lap and coffee in hand. She smiles, tips her head back, and sighs.

She has nowhere to go for the first time in what feels like years. The shop is closed for the morning. Raphael’s classes are canceled for the morning. They’re free to exist, blissfully lazy. Safe in their little cocoon. He’d been asleep when she slipped from the beg; nose turned into her pillow, blankets tangled around him. He’s a greedy bedmate, and it amuses her more than it probably should. Raphael’s habits implicitly remind her of a housecat: the bed size doesn’t matter. He’ll monopolize it.

His apartment is always a touch cooler than hers, partly due to his higher temperature. Tav bends and collects his sweater from the night before, shrugging it over her head and tugging it into place. The fabric tickles against her bare skin; it smells pleasantly of him, sharp, sweet, and masculine.

She smiles, tips her head back, and watches the street. A few children have trickled out of their apartment buildings and are building a snowman (with varying degrees of success).

“There you are, little thief.”

She looks up at his voice, rougher, deep from sleep. Raphael offers her a dreamy smile as he strides into the kitchen, sweats slung low around his hips. There’s something fundamentally odd about seeing him in such a state: it’s too casual. Messy strands of hair hang across his forehead; the suits are lost in favor of a loose t-shirt. Something about it is more intimate than nudity, perhaps because it looks less natural. It’s him at his most vulnerable. No armor. No social status. Tav rests her chin on her pulled-up knees, smiling.

“Oh, this?” She plucks at the sweater. “I didn’t think you’d miss it.”

“Didn’t you?” Raphael hums, leaning against the counter. He pours himself a cup of coffee. Her heart twinges. With glasses perched on the tip of his nose, he’s a picture of domestic bliss- everything she never allowed herself to hope for. “I will forgive the indiscretion. Just this once.”

“Helps that I look so cute.”

He snorts. “Modesty becomes you, my dear.”

The woman smiles, holding out her hand. She’s feeling too soft to make much effort towards their verbal sparring. “Come sit?”

Raphael tips his head to the side, eyes narrowing. Considering the offer, maybe. The tension bleeds out of his shoulders as he crosses to her. She goes to stand; he tuts. The little window seat is far too small for it, but the professor manages to contort himself, settling in the space between her thighs. Tav snickers, tangling her arms and legs around him, squirms into the space between the wall and window, the cold of the glass contrasting the warmth of his skin.

Her love hums, dragging the back of his fingers along the inside of her calf. “There. This suits me just fine.”

She fishes her book from between them, dropping it in his lap. Tav shifts again, tucking his head between her breasts, arms wrapping around his neck. “Read to me?”

He does so without complaint, voice rich and smooth, and she drifts off wrapped around him, listening to his voice, watching the snowfall.

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #coffeeshop au #asks #do you want cavities?#this is how you get cavities

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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year

Text

Hidden Truths (Alex Blake x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You and Alex aim to keep things professional at work

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of jealousy

You sat with your chin in your palm, finger running over the wood of the table. Sitting in the back corner was always the right choice, giving you the chance to watch without being observed. Except for the sparkling brown eyes of the only person who could see you.

You pressed your lips together, doing your best to not let the smile threatening to bloom out in full force. Alex spun, writing on the white board and you gave yourself a moment to let your eyes wander over her. She was wearing the trousers that always made your head a little fuzzy. You tilted your head, following the line of her hips until she turned to survey the room again.

Her eyes caught on you for a moment before flitting away again, calling on one of the students with their hand raised. Fingers tipped with intrigue pushed her hair away from her eyes, and you let yourself look at her, long enough to find her glancing up towards you again. There was a curve to the corner of her mouth that spoke of her amusement and you couldn’t help your own lips curling up in an answering smile.

The rest of the class, the final ten minutes, passed without her looking in your direction again. You knew why, the temptation you posed there for her. It was one of the reasons you loved sitting in on her classes, only occasionally letting yourself indulge in the luxury of it.

You’d made it clear to her how much you enjoyed watching her teach.

She dismissed the class and you waited a few extra seconds before rising to your feet. Placing a hand in your pocket, you sauntered down the steps, eyes trained on her as she packed up her bag. You were so focused on her you almost ran straight into a student. Catching yourself on the bench beside you, you realised the boy in front of you was familiar.

“Professor, I didn’t know you had anything to do with linguistics,” he said, offering you an interested smile.

“I don’t,” you laughed, “just thought it would be fun to do a drive by pop in.”

“Oh, you know Doctor Blake?” he asked, looking a lot more interested now.

“I’d hope so,” you replied, “otherwise the conversation I was hoping to have with her is going to be very awkward.”

“You were hoping to have a conversation with me?”

Alex had paused at the bottom of the stairs, bag slung over her shoulder. You could still see that sparkle in her eye, the amusement loud and clear to you. You rolled your eyes, but there was still a smile on your face.

“I was,” you replied.

“And you couldn’t just text?” she asked.

“Well, I wanted an answer before four, and I know you so…” You lent closer to the student, “she never answers me.”

“You’re going to give me a bad reputation,” she laughed.

“An accurate reputation,” you shot back, “I swear she does it because she knows it annoys me.”

The student was looking between the two of you, an almost bemused smile on his face, like he couldn’t believe this was a conversation he was witnessing. You patted his shoulder.

“What do you think of Doctor Blake?” you asked, “good professor?”

“Yeah she’s… she’s brilliant,” he replied, after shooting her a quick look. You were unclear if the look was due to feeling uncomfortable about being asked about her in front of her, or if it was because he had stars in his eyes for her.

“Mind like no other,” you said, nodding your head in agreement.

“Alright, I think that’s quite enough,” she said but you could see her fighting a smile.

“Good luck with next week’s reading, George,” you said to the student, “I hear it’s a doozy.”

The two of you watched him leave the room, Alex’s hand inching towards you like a game of chicken. You caught it, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. Her eyes softened when she finally looked to you.

“You wanted to have a conversation with me,” she prompted.

“Well, less of a conversation although tongues will definitely be involved,” you replied.

Her gaze darkened, flicking down to your lips then back up.

“We’re at work,” she said.

“That was your last class of the day,” you said, “and unless I’ve missed something you have nowhere important to be.”

“What are you suggesting?” She tugged you forward by your joined hands.

“That we cut out early for the weekend and do something far more enjoyable than dealing with students,” you said.

“This is why you shouldn’t be allowed to come watch my lectures,” she said, a knowing smile gracing her features.

“I can’t resist,” you replied, “you have no idea how hot it is when you’re up there teaching. You’re so fucking sexy, Alex.”

“And I don’t think you know how intoxicating it is to be watched by you,” she said.

Her free hand came up, cupping your cheek. She pulled you closer, breath ghosting over your lips. You allowed her one moment of hesitation before closing the gap. The way she kissed was familiar, but it never failed to steal your breath. You pressed yourself against her, feeling no better than one of the students you spent all day with.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she mumbled against your lips, “let’s at least pretend to have some self control.”

“Self control?” you asked when she drew back, “what’s that?”

You loved her throaty chuckle, coming from deep in her chest. It was the sound of heaven if there was one, letting you know you’d done something right. She only did that when she was completely amused with you, and planned on showing you how much she liked that.

She pulled on your joined hands until you were following her to the door. The sunlight hit you just as she let you go, remembering at the last second that such easy affection was not for the campus. You’d both agreed, keeping your personal life from the workplace was the best course of action, if only to keep the respect of your colleagues and students. Over the years it had turned into a bit of a game to see if anyone could figure it out. It helped that you’d both kept your names.

Her car was parked by her office, while yours was on the other end of campus, near yours. The two of you split, but not before you pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, her small smile carrying you through the drive home. Three years married and you still couldn’t get over how lucky you were.

When you entered the house, she was standing in the kitchen, already pouring two glasses of wine. You curled your arms around her waist, pressing your front to her back. She hummed, leaning back against you, tilting her head when your lips found the long column of her neck. You’d been a little obsessed with it the entire time you’d known her.

“We have all weekend, darling,” she said, as you continued to kiss along her neck.

“I know,” you replied, “I’m taking my time to enjoy myself.”

She chuckled, low in her throat, leaning into you as you continued to make your presence known. She’d placed the wine glasses down, hands resting on the counter. The taste of her skin felt like home.

“Are we not even going to make it past the kitchen?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” you replied, laughing into the curve of her neck.

“Sometimes I want dessert first,” she sighed as your hands begun to creep underneath her shirt.

“And sometimes I want to be bent over your office desk after watching you lecture,” you replied.

“Only sometimes?” You could hear the smile in her voice.

“Alright, I always want that after seeing you lecture.”

The drag of your fingers up the skin of her stomach, feeling her muscles flutter under your touch. She was pressing her body back against yours, letting you explore. As if you hadn’t mapped every inch of her body already.

“I don’t think you’re the one getting bent over the desk right now,” she said as your fingers found the underside of her bra covered breast.

“Is that what you want, Doctor Blake?” you asked, “to be bent over and fucked real good?”

She spun. Her hands landed on your hips, turning you until she had you pinned against the counter. Her lips hovered above yours, breaths mingling.

“Don’t forget the wine, darling.”

She slid away from you, leaving nothing but air in your arms. You grinned to yourself, grabbing the glasses and the bottle, and following her out of the kitchen.

Monday morning is was easy to slip back into your routine, having taken to the entire weekend to enjoy the company of your wife. You loved saying that. Your wife.

George was in his usual seat in your lecture, turning a light shade of pink each time you looked over. It looked as if the small amount of your life you’d shown to him the week before had influenced him. You weren’t quite sure in what way.

You let them go early, knowing a Monday morning class was always the hardest to get through for the students. It was hard enough getting through as someone who knew the material inside and out.

As you packed away your bag George approached you, looking a little unsure of himself. You smiled, hoping you were coming across as friendly and approachable.

“Hey, what’s up?” you asked, waving to a group of girls as they left the hall.

“I didn’t know you and Doctor Blake were married,” he said.

“Three years now,” you said, “it’s not common knowledge.”

“Why not?” he asked.

“Just personal preference,” you said, “so keep it on the down low, yeah?”

“Oh yeah, of course. Anything for you Doctor Blake,” he said, “and you.”

“Thanks George,” you said.

You parted ways with him at the door, giving him a cheery wave as left. The walk to Alex’s office was nice, shady and green as you crossed campus. You knocked on her door, pushing it open when she called for you to enter.

“Someone has a crush on you,” you singsonged.

“Is it you?” she asked, not looking up as she marked papers.

“Forever and always,” you replied, flinging yourself into one of the chairs across from her desk, “but that’s not who I’m talking about.”

“Who are you talking about?” she asked, still not sounding interested.

“George,” you said, kicking your feet up onto her desk, “he figured out we’re married.”

That got her attention. Absentmindedly, she pushed your feet off her desk as she lent towards you.

“He figured it out?” she asked.

“Which means you owe ten bucks,” you said.

She gave you a fond eye roll, her chuckle quiet. You lent forward, plucking the pen from her fingers, twirling it in your own.

“I did know about his crush,” she said, “he’s one of many.”

“Alright, some modesty would have been nice,” you laughed.

“You have more students with crushes on you,” she replied.

“What? No, I don’t.”

“You definitely do,” she said, “I’ve counted. You’re a hot commodity on this campus, Professor.”

“You must feel pretty lucky then, Doctor Blake,” you replied, turning it into a joke to make yourself feel more comfortable.

“I do. Every single day,” she replied, sounding serious.

“Alright, well, I wasn’t expecting-“ You paused, a thought coming to you, “why have you counted?”

“Hmm?” She looked back down to the papers she still had to grade.

“The students with crushes on me. You said you’ve counted. Why?”

“No particular reason,” she replied, “it’s just good information to have.”

“Are you… Alex?” You waited for her to look up at you again, “are you jealous?”

“What? No.”

“Holy shit, you are.”

“Of course I’m not jealous of some children,” she said, leaning forward to take the pen back, “it’s just good to keep an eye out for the students who might… try to steal you away.”

“Alex.” You handed back the pen, “there is no one capable of stealing me away. I’m your problem forever. We signed a contract. It’s official.”

“Contracts can be broken,” she said, ducking her head.

You rose from your chair, rounding her desk to perch just beside her. With fingers on her chin you tilted her head up until her eyes met yours. You could see the worry swimming in there.

“Not this one,” you replied, “never. You’re stuck with me. Because there is no one else for me out there. Just you.”

“But what if-“ You pressed your index finger to her lips.

“No one,’ you said, “besides, these students are all children.”

She laughed, the breath puffing against the skin of your hand.

“Okay,” she said.

You let forward, replacing your finger with your lips, if only to show her how much she meant to you. Screw the rules. There was no one else for you, but her. And that was all there was to that.

Tags: @trippol-threat @theclassicgaycousin @prentiss-theorem @nightmarish-fae @storiesofsvu @rustyzebra @emsmultiverse

#alex blake #alex blake x reader #alex blake imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine

204 notes · View notes

avatar-anna · 2 years

Text

The Professor

summary: you and harry are perfect strangers

words: 3.5k

tw: none

PART III, PART V, PART IV, PART II, PART I Series Masterlist

June 2021

This summer, were trying something new.

Since school was out, you decided you needed to get out more. You’d seen less of Edward because he was getting busier and busier with his super secret project. He still texted and called, and since you were busy with school, helping the police department from time to time, filming your educational videos, and writing papers along with grading them, you didn’t mind not seeing him as much. You liked that you could go a few weeks without seeing each other and still remain close friends…or whatever you were. That was something both of you were okay with not discussing for the time being.

In the past, you spent a lot of your summers indoors or around Cambridge, but this summer, you decided to branch out and explore. You read books and case files in cafes, you biked around town more, you even wanted to plan a road trip with Edward. Before, your summers, while enjoyable, were pretty monotonous. Maybe it was because the world was finally opening back up again, but you just had this itch to get out of your townhouse more. And take the Emperor with you, of course.

It was a sunny afternoon in Cambridge, and you were sitting on a patio table of a cafe you started frequenting. They had all sorts of tea flavors and fun summery drinks you wanted to try. Something in you was pushing you to try new things, and instead of shying away from it, you embraced it. The sun was shining brightly, your paper was coming along splendidly, and the Emperor was basking in the sunlight inside the pram you bought for him. This summer was off to a beautiful start.

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is Dr. Y/l/n outside and actually enjoying the sun?”

You immediately perked up at the sound of Edward’s voice, your lips curving up into a smile involuntarily. “What are you doing here?”

“To see you, of course,” he said from behind his mask.

Edward was still standing, so you could see all of him. He, like you, was dressed for summer in corduroy shorts and an opened, button-down shirt made of a colorful patchwork of different fabrics.

“Sit down!” you said, gesturing for the open seat across from you beside the Emperor.

He did, petting your cat as he did so, who leaned into Edward’s touch. Seems you weren’t the only one who missed your friend.

“You’re in a particularly sunny mood today,” he said.

“I’m embracing life, Edward,” you said, slipping your straw beneath your face mask to take a sip of your coffee—some kind of rose latte that you didn’t love but felt like you needed to finish to be polite. “And I consulted on a case in New York, which was very fun. Well, not fun. Satisfying. You know, because I got to be a part of saving a life and stop someone from doing horrible things.”

Smiling, he said, “That’s great, Y/n. I’m really happy for you.”

He said it, but he didn’t sound happy. Admittedly, it was somber stuff, but you hadn’t gone into the explicit details, ones that you would never forget, you literally weren’t able to.

“Are you okay? You seem a little off.”

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, but again, he wasn’t very convincing. “Listen, there’s something I wanted to—”

“So, I had this idea, but I wanted to run it by—Oh, sorry. Go ahead.”

“No, no. You first.”

Now that his eyes were on you, even if they were covered by dark sunglasses, you flushed with nerves. You’d never done something like this, and you thought you had more time to prepare and find the right words, but this summer was all about taking chances for you, so you swallowed your fear and just blurted it out.

“I think we should go on a date.”

Edward’s eyebrows rose, but you couldn’t tell what it meant. “A date?”

“Yeah, you know, since things have been opening up more, and we’ve never actually seen the bottom of each other’s faces, I just thought now would be as good a time as any, right?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you started to panic. Did you read the last three months wrong? Edward told you he liked you, you held hands when you sat and talked in your townhouse, he was showing interest, right? You couldn’t be that oblivious, and you didn’t think you read the signs wrong. You checked. Your evidence backed up your inferences. This should’ve been seamless.

You were almost never wrong, but now you were worried you got everything completely wrong. “Unless…you don’t want to?”

Edward was quick to reassure you. “I do, you have no idea how much I do. I’m just…shocked by how forward you’re being.”

Leaning forward, you stage whispered, “It’s not too much, is it?”

Edward leaned forward too, and this time you could tell he was grinning. “No, not at all. I think it suits you.”

He couldn’t see it, but you were smiling beneath your mask. “Great. So? What do you say?”

You’d never been this forward before, but Edward made you feel confident. In your mind, you had nothing to lose.

“I’d love to,” he said, holding your hand across the table. “Now, what do you say to heading back to your place? I missed looking at constellations with you.”

Butterflies Edward had called them. They were going crazy in your stomach, but they didn’t freak you out. They just made you excited. You thought this new you suited you too.

----------------------------------------------------------

It was late, way past midnight, and he was still in your house. You weren’t quite sure where the time went, or how you managed to talk for that long, but there both of you were, sitting on your couch, neither of you making any kinds of moves to leave.

“If you weren’t a professor, what would you be doing?”

It took you a moment to think about that, to give him an answer that wouldn’t end in Edward lecturing you about taking care of yourself and putting yourself first.

“I don’t know, I think I was made for teaching and helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”

“But do you teach because you love it or because you’re good at it. The two aren’t mutually exclusive, Y/n.”

Edward worried about you a lot. Something you thought you would find irritating, but actually found endearing.

“I know, but for me it is,” you said, squeezing the hand that was holding yours. You realized he liked that. Small affectionate touches. You weren’t the affectionate type but you liked being that way for him. “I love helping people. For the first half of my life, I was stuck doing things for other people, and I hated it. I was good at math, I am good at math, but being forced to do it all day made me never want to look at or solve complicated theories ever again.

“This is the life I chose for myself. Sometimes I think that with this…gift, asset, whatever you want to call it, that I should be doing more, so I help the police department and I share my knowledge with others and hope that’s enough.”

You let out a breath, surprised you said so much. You knew it wasn’t physically possible, but you felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, like in that moment, you weren’t just talking to Edward, but to everyone who ever criticized your decision to leave solving unsolvable math and science problems behind to take up teaching.

“That felt good, didn’t it?” Edward said, like your answer was exactly what he wanted you to say.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You’re very smart, Edward. Not as smart as me of course, but—”

“But who is?” he finished for you.

You sat with him in comfortable silence, neither of you knowing what to say next, but not ready to say goodbye, either. This was the latest Edward had ever stayed over, and that fluttering was stirring in you. You’d never had anyone spend the night before, but you thought he would make a good first.

“I should probably go,” he said suddenly, as if he just realized it was nearing three in the morning.

Reminding yourself that this was the summer of embracing change and trying new things, you took a deep breath and said, “You don’t have to.”

“No?”

“It’s late, and you must be tired. You can stay. If—If you want to, that is.”

You wondered if his heart was beating as fast as yours, or if his palms were starting to sweat. Maybe you’d read these last three months entirely wrong, maybe asking him to stay was a terrible idea, one you clearly didn’t think through. Your invitation for him to stay the night was exactly that: a place for him to sleep. But did Edward know that? What if he took your invitation as more? And neither of you obviously slept with a face covering, there was a chance you would see his face tonight.

You’d insisted on the face masks because you didn’t want to get yourself or Edward sick, but part of you also liked that you had to wear them. It was social distance as well as emotional distance, like keeping what you completely looked like a secret was the one thing that prevented you from fully opening up to him. Were you really ready for that?

“Y/n?”

So in your thoughts about Edward possibly staying the night, you forgot he hadn’t said yes or no yet. Blushing, you looked back over to him. “Yes?”

“I can see the gears turning in that beautiful brain of yours. You don’t have to be so stressed. If you don’t want me to stay, I won’t. It’s not a big deal.”

“I do!” you blurted, your face turning red at how quickly you corrected him. “I, um, I think it will be fun. But…I just don’t want you to think that it means that we’re having sex.”

The blunt delivery of your statement had him laughing, so much so that it calmed your nerves a bit. “I didn’t think that at all,” he said. Inching closer to you, he reached for your hand again, rubbing his thumb across the back. “So, got an extra toothbrush?”

----------------------------------------------------------

You were at home, laying on your floor and watching constellations, only it wasn’t with Edward. Your phone was clutched in your hands, your leg crossed over the other revealing colorful patterned socks peeking out beneath your ankle-length jeans. You needed to make a phone call, but you didn’t know what you were going to say.

How were you going to tell him?

Thankfully, you got a phone call before you had to make that decision. It was the former student you employed to help edit your videos. “Hello?”

“When were you going to tell me you knew Harry Styles?”

The name sounded familiar, and you recalled one of your students mentioning it in one of their questions at the end of class once, but you didn’t know him. “I…I don’t?”

“Y/n, are you pulling my leg right now? It’s all over the Internet,” they said.

“What is?” you asked, more confused than ever.

“The pictures! You’re at a cafe and casually sitting with one of the most popular men in music. How the hell did you not know?”

Your mind was going into overdrive with all the new information you’d just received. “I—I need to—to go,” you said, hanging up without another word.

The only time you really used the Internet was to look up scholarly journals or to search for a new recipe, but now you typed in the words, “Harry Styles,” when the search finished loading, your eyes widened. “Holy shit.”

You rarely cursed, but this instance was worthy of using expletives. Edward…Harry…whoever he said he was…was not who he claimed to be. He was famous, like really, really famous. He’d just won a Grammy, he had two albums, he was on the cover of Vogue, and he had a larger than life following. The man online was not the man you knew in person. He was charismatic and outgoing, he sang songs about sex, he was a more vibrant version of the person you’d come to know. Edward was soft spoken, but Harry was…some kind of rockstar.

You consumed everything you possibly could, your eyes scanning his Wikipedia page—he had a Wikipedia page!—in a minute. Singing contest shows, albums, awards, band breakups, world tours, you read everything. You knew more about him than you wanted to know.

And you were there too. In a recent article by some tacky looking publication with obnoxious colors and loud titles that made your head hurt, there was a picture of you and Edward—Harry—sitting at the cafe last week. The pictures looked innocent enough, but the headlines claimed you were a secret lover, a possible affair.

An affair? You clicked on one of the linked articles on the website, hating yourself for reading something like this. Another picture popped up. He looked like he was at some wedding, holding hands with another woman.

You turned your phone off after that, not wanting anymore pictures or words forever ingrained in your mind. He was seeing someone. He had a…a person. Someone that meant something to him. Someone that wasn’t you.

It hurt, especially because you really thought he’d shown interest the last few months, but that was probably a lie too. He spent the night just last week! Sure, you didn’t do anything but sleep, but that was a big step. Apparently not. Just before you clicked out of the website, you saw that she was a director. Maybe he was only interested in people who led similar lives, and you certainly did not.

You felt silly all of a sudden. You tricked yourself into believing that someone actually cared for you. No one had ever shown interest in you outside of the knowledge you held, all the remarkable things you could remember. When you visited her for Spring Break, your mom went around telling people you were a human computer, getting people to ask you questions and see how quick you could respond. Like your students in class but not at all the same. You weren’t a person to be valued or cherished, you were an object of fascination. A circus freak that could do tricks on command.

You laid on the floor with your head pressed against the wood panels, heart pounding and mind spinning. Words flew around so fast they were unintelligible. Nothing made sense, and as someone who could make sense of everything, it was frustrating you. A headache quickly developed into a migraine, and you didn’t know what to do. Shutting your eyes wouldn’t change anything, would probably only make things worse. You read too much too fast, and now it was overwhelming you.

A knock on your front door temporarily distracted you. You stood up from your position on the ground, but every step towards your door was a painful one. Peeking through your peephole, your heart clenched, your stomach filled with dread. It was him.

You were in no way ready to face him, so you didn’t. “I—I’m not feeling well.”

“Aw, really?” he asked, sounding disappointed. “Well, let me in and I’ll take care of you.”

He sounded so sweet and so sincere that you almost let him in, but you stopped yourself. “I haven’t gotten tested yet. I’ll—I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Let me in, Y/n. If you’re not feeling well, I want to help.”

His kindness made you angry all of a sudden. With everything swirling around and your migraine, you blurted, “I don’t want to see you right now, Harry.”

It was his name, but it didn’t sound right on your tongue. He seemed to recognize it, though. With both of you so close to the door, you heard the soft thud of his forehead leaning against it as he quietly muttered, “Fuck.”

“You lied to me,” you said, trying to hide the quiver in your voice. “Why would you lie to me?”

“I—I didn’t lie, I—”

“Don’t give me that omission bullshit! You didn’t even tell me your real name!”

You remembered the first time he’d come over to your house. The two of you were so engrossed in your conversation that you didn’t even realize you hadn’t shared each other’s names until he was about to leave. He told you his name was Edward, and you didn’t question it. Why would you?

“I can’t believe this,” you said. “I—We talked about you being a murderer, and I laughed it off when you could’ve actually been one. I’m such an idiot! I actually—I actually trusted you!”

“You can trust me. Please just—Please let me in, and I can explain everything. Just please let me in.”

He sounded desperate, but he wasn’t getting it. You did let him in. He knew you more than any other person you knew, but you clearly didn’t know him. You had a hard time trusting people, it was why you didn’t have many friends or colleagues or a long romantic history. Trust was something you had a hard time handing to people, but somehow he managed it, and he took it and stomped on it, crushed it in his hands like a piece of paper. You couldn’t trust him. He lied to you about who he was for months and didn’t try to tell you the truth. Not once.

“I know about the woman you’re seeing. The director,” you said suddenly You had never spoken so venomously before, and you hated it. You hated how all of this was making you feel. “I asked you out because I liked you and you managed to convince me that you liked me too, but—but you ruined it. I learned so much about you in minutes, and I can’t forget it. I wish I could forget meeting you, but I will never be able to.

“I can win a chess game in two moves, I could solve some of the most complex physics equations before you probably even knew what algebra was, I know four current languages and two dead languages, I’ve read the Bible cover to cover multiple times, I came close to solving the three body problem. I bet you don’t even know what that is!

“I’m an expert in multiple fields of psychology, so imagine my surprise when I found out you weren’t who you said you were. Not once did I suspect anything,” you said, surprised that all of that came bursting out of you.

“I am. Y/n, please open the door,” he pleaded. He sounded like he was crying, which made a couple tears slip down your cheeks.

You steeled your nerves, feeling like each one of those butterflies he made you feel died and floated to the bottom of your stomach. “I’m glad I found out now and not while I was still teaching, I can’t imagine how badly my students would make fun of me for being so clueless.”

Hearing the calmness in your voice, you heard him grow frantic on the other side of the door. “It’s not your fault, Y/n, I was just trying to—”

“You’re right. It’s not my fault,” you said. “I don’t like to believe in coincidences or chance, but maybe there’s a hint of it here.” You paused, finding the strength to get the words out. You hadn’t thought it through, and perhaps you were being too rash or emotional, but you said it anyway. “I was offered a job today. In New York. I was going to call you and tell you about it, maybe celebrate even if I was planning on turning it down, but then I got a different phone call first, and I found out about you, and…

“I’m going to take the job, and I—I don’t want to see you before I leave.”

“Okay, I know you’re mad, and you have every right to be, but I am begging you not to go anywhere before I can explain. There’s so much that I want—that I need to say. Y/n please.”

You were done fighting. Mostly because your migraine was becoming too much and you were still processing the overload of information, but also because you couldn’t handle talking to the person on the other side of your door anymore.

“Just go,” you said, more tired than you’d ever felt before. “I can’t—I can’t let you do this to me.”

Your mind, which was normally sharp and organized, was currently in shambles. You'd never felt this lost before. You could always rely on your instinct and your knowledge, but it was failing you, and that was something you couldn't handle.

“Please. Please. Open the door, Y/n. Please let me in. Please, I’ll explain everything. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry—”

Taking your cat, you left him at the front door, still knocking and begging you to let him explain, but you didn’t want an explanation. None of it would change the fact that he lied for months, with no plans to stop.

You don’t know when he left, or how long he knocked on the door. If he left of his own volition or if your neighbors grew tired of the noise. You just didn’t care to know. As you rested on your bed and hid from everything you learned the best you could, you just…didn’t care anymore.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @remuslupinwifee @majasophieanna @michellekstyles @wolwolsighs @harrystylesrecs @cwiphswmwasohmm @his-only-angel-1989

#harry styles #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot

662 notes · View notes

teresalace · 1 year

Text

I won't cry for you, Yandere Tyler Galpin x Female Reader Part 2

Yandere Tyler Galpin x Female Reader Part 2, "I won't cry for you"

Part one: here (PART 1)

• Words: 2358

•Triggers/Warnings: none

•Show: Wednesday (2022) Netflix

💖Author's Note😌: Happy almost Chinese new year everyone! Enjoy! And please remember 😅this story is more of what I imagine the show would be like in season2 but I haven't watched S1! 💖Much love! My Kofi is in my pinned post if you'd like to support me :-D Singapore based writer wo!

As promised, tagging y'all! @taylorsreputationsversion and @queen-wolf7577

————

Summary: After successfully relocating the Hyde, Your mother's pet, Laurel Gates (Professor Thornhill), in a nearby town, you had almost not much else to do except to help see to that Tyler Galpin adjusts to his new life and identity. Yet as time goes by, you realized you had a terrifying fondness for his company but that's just because you see him as a wounded stray animal you've adopted. Surely you could overcome this attachment. Maybe. Like mother like daughter. . .

_____

The rest of the first week living with Tyler felt distant and polite, you liked it that way, being able to keep a close eye on his few unusual movements (other than staying cooped up, reading books and whatnot in his assigned room) and overall health in the house.

You'd conclude that he's overall healthy from the three meals he'd eat daily, though mentally you can't say for certain.

There was no need for conversations whenever you crossed paths with him when there wasn't anything to talk about, so in a way you were technically on a short holiday. He was barely an annoyance, always keeping to himself, no complaints whatsoever, had respectable minimal eye-contact with you whenever there's a brief moment of passing between you and him. . .

How nice, like he instinctively knew his place to be submissive. One less problem to deal with.

Until one early morning in the living room, at 7am of your usual waking time, you were surprised to see breakfast for two laid out on the coffee table. Two cups of coffee accompanying their own full plates of steaming hot pancakes– admittedly it was a strange, welcoming sight.

"I- uh- wanted to surprise you."

You whipped around at the sudden voice and observed Tyler standing behind you awkwardly, wearing layers of clothes with big pockets that hid his dangling arms.

So, Galpin made the first move.

You shot a swift glance between him and the breakfast before easing a small smile out of your stiff lips. "consider me surprised, Galpin."

Huh, he usually wouldn't come out of his room at this time. . . (Which was why you chose this time to be busy in doing your other tasks and grocery shopping.) It got you thinking, suspecting him of wanting to gain something from you. Let's hear it first before throwing a dog a bone.

"I'm glad you're awake, uh the pancakes won't get soggy then." He says, tone genuinely relieved. Almost sounding like he was actually glad he didn't have to go up to your room to get you for breakfast. . . Or he was one incredible actor.

Either way, you weren't mad. It was more than interesting living with a former normie. You were glad in a way that he had settled down nicely but it did seem somewhat suspicious. He settled down way too fast- but you'd think you would be desperate to adapt if you were in his shoes and even overwhelmingly grateful to be given assistance.

"After you, Galpin." You gestured towards the food on the coffee table, a low grumbling in your empty stomach urging you to eat already. He quickly protested, "oh n-no, you go first. . ."

You raised an eyebrow, it only took a few more seconds of staring for him to zip up and hesitantly nodding in defeat. He went to take a seat at the coffee table and you followed suit, sitting across from him.

The steam of the rich creamy coffee hit your nostrils the moment you sat down and took a deep breath in. And even though there was barely any movement from infront of you, you carefully sipped the hot coffee. . . Just one drop. Wow.

"This is really good," you admitted outloud, looking into your mocha-coloured coffee, surprising yourself in the process. "I don't think I've had coffee taste this good in years."

A small whoosh of relief released from across you but when you flicked your gaze up, Tyler had already started grabbing his cutlery and wore a bigger smile while cutting through his pancakes. "Glad I have something to bring to the table. I guess working in café wasn't so bad," he finished his sentence by stuffing himself a large bite and chewing with intense urgency.

His attention zeroed in on his food once he saw you begining to eat yours.

Gosh, he must've been starving waiting for you to get out of your room. Not that you felt guilty but for a moment as you stared at him engoring himself with pancakes. . . Your heart sunk a little and pitied him. For only a moment, of course. . .

He made breakfast for you because he felt indebted to you. Simple enough for you to understand and not question.

No wonder he seemed the tiniest, slightest bit on edge around you the past few days and from the corner of your eyes- you'd occasionally catch him watching you subtly while you ate. Maybe he was worried of what you'd say to him.

Like a worried tenant trying to please their unpredictable landlord from kicking them out.

In the dead quiet other than steel clinking and the muffled beeping of cars outside, he must've sensed your blatant stare on him as he shifted in his seat and tried to smile casually. "I forgot to say this but good morning," he greeted, evergreen eyes boring into yours.

You slowly nodded, copying his friendly smile to a tee, "morning."

That was already a huge effort you never expected yourself to make, especially willing without any underlying intention. It's only been a few days since you've adopted– gave a place for him to stay. . . You couldn't possibly be growing an attachment to him.

It can't be possible, you reassured yourself mentally while finishing off the rest of the fluffy pancakes.

You were leaving soon in a week or two anyways, these interactions are temporary and won't even be remembered in a couple of months for you. Good.

"Galpin," you called when he was about to take away your empty place along with his, "thank you. Your pancakes were delicious, so was the coffee. You didn't have to do this."

He shrugged his back at you, putting down the empty dishes in the sink before he turnt on the faucet.

"I can't just sit back and not do anything. You've already done alot for me so. . . " He washed the cups through the running water. "I thought making breakfast for you would help you relax," Tyler said nonchalantly as he washed the rest of the dishes.

Huh, did you seem stressed to him?

A slow smile spread on your face when you looked around the tidy living room, arms crossed. "How nice, thank you, Galpin."

"I also took out the trash. Gotta pull my weight here, right." He chuckled lightly, trying to sound humorous while drying his hands with a hand towel by the kitchen counter.

As much as he's right, you initially prefered being alone in the mornings but without your dear plants near– Tyler soon became a good substitute for some company. . . You really need to take another long hot shower before you begin thinking again.

He stood idle across from you, tucking his hands in an oversized jacket your family member used to wear. (No doubt he found from the closet in his room) "So I guess this is uh, see you later?"

"Sure, see you. Galpin," you nodded, watching him back away and retreating up the stairs quietly with a short glance thrown behind his shoulder at you before disappearing.

Only when the clicking of his door closing echoed through the house were you finally able to fully relax and do the rest of your morning routine. . . .

After much housework and managing some of your mother's leftover papers (on subjects unknown to you), you recalled not having checked if the meat had gone bad, so you did.

Slowly opening the freezer of the fridge did not prepare you enough for the shocking sight of a cold white empty space. How did a dozen of plastic packaged red meat that you just recently ordered a few days ago, become completely gone in no time.

Obvious answer: Tyler Galpin.

You slowly closed the freezer and went to check the trash bin in the kitchen, only to see an empty bin. . . Ah right, Tyler did say he threw the trash away earlier.

The pots and pans are crisp and clean, but since you weren't always at this second house with Tyler– there were many time gaps where he could've cooked or fried the meat. Assuming he cooked it at all.

You rubbed your feet against the floor, sensing no grease nor oil on the smoothe clean surface. He must've found the mop somewhere and cleaned after his cooking. . .

What funny timing. Except that you don't remember reading anything about Hydes craving meat, but could you have misread? Impossible.

You needed some time to think about Tyler's abnormal cravings (and recalling the bloodied state he was in when you discovered him in the woods) he most likely is going through some kind of withdrawal.

Then again, you aren't a monster expert so you need to call someone who is.

So you reached behind you for your phone, secretly hidden in your back pocket but froze in place. Wait what were you thinking, (Name), this is so unnecessary. You've helped him enough, whatever else he goes through he should deal with it. Not you.

Your hand dropped from your back as you continued going about your day in endless amounts of work, peacefully. Or so you convinced yourself.

And for hours long you didn't see Tyler until he came down the stairs suddenly, all jittery and nervous smiles when noticing your stare on him from the couch.

"Afternoon, Galpin." You greeted before looking back down to your work laptop.

"Ye-yeah, good afternoon," he softly said, watching you for a couple of seconds before taking any action.

Him walking towards you in a casual saunter like he had something important to say, opening his mouth before closing it. You glanced up and blinked at him questioningly.

"Um- If it's at all possible. . . Could I talk to my dad? Or just send a letter, something to let him know I'm alive. . ." He asked pleading, heavy toned.

Staring intensely into yours was his forest green eyes shrouded by the shadows of his front curly hair. Eyes full of uncertainty and glimmering hope yet also prepared for the least favourable answer.

So you pulled the laptop closed while maintaining steely eye-contact and asked. "Galpin, Isn't it dangerous to be contacting your father during this time?"

By this time, you meant when the whole town's police force could potentially be on the hunt for him, an escaped murderer.

His eyes shone brighter after hearing you not say no. Tyler then confidently stood firmer, like an opportunist he took what he could get.

"Nothing's gonna happen if we're already out of Jericho," he said it matter-of-factly with a dead serious expression, "the cops don't search anyplace far. . ." Looks like his father must've told him something for his confident to skyrocket in this area.

"I'll see what I can do." You rose from your comfortable seat, "I won't guarantee anything except your safety, remember that, Galpin."

You smoothly maneuvered around a wide-eyed standing Tyler as he tried to speak as you headed up the stairs. Towards your bedroom.

Because somewhere deep inside your wardrobe was a cardboard box full of throwaway phones incase of emergencies. And this wasn't an emergency but a small favour that could lead to a potential disaster if one was careless.

Shaking these useless thoughts out of your head, you took one of the phones and hid the box again.

After going back down to the living room where Tyler was waiting for you, sitting on the couch this time- on the place where you last sat, you just stood Infront of him.

"Your hand, please."

Curious, he held his hand up to you. Only for you to put a black burner phone in it, his thumb accidentally brushing along the side of your hand as you do.

"Smash it or step on it, anything. Do what is necessary to destroy it after your call. Absolutely make sure you get rid of it, your future depends on it." You immediately returned your hand to your side, feeling a small tingle spreading- comfortably.

Too comfortably for your liking.

"Thanks, seriously. I- This means a lot to me," he stuttered, smiling widely, gratefully then stared at the burner phone in his hand in contemplation.

In that smile you almost lost yourself but snapped out of it quickly, he just has a nice smile, that's all.

For a split second it reminded you of your mother's many practiced smiles, generously wide with all her pearly white teeth on display to show how harmless she is. She taught you better than to trust smiley people.

Tyler stood up from the couch and peered into your eyes, breaking your train of thought completely. "I'll see you later then?" He asked softly, the burner phone gripped tightly in his palm.

"Maybe, I'm not sure of my schedule. Another time, Galpin." You shrugged then turned to leave before he could call you.

Now that you think about it, today's been a day full of interactions between Tyler and you. You weren't sure what to feel about it.

So off you went to your room, your mind battling itself the whole way up the stairs. . . As you laid on your bed, your brain alarmed you of what would happen if Tyler were to mess up any one thing.

A clue that'd give away his location. Any word mentioning you, a technical accomplice.

You didn't trust him enough to be helping him at all.

You'd be in big trouble. Worse trouble if the police got involved. . . Mother would find out about the. . . Escaped prisoner? Guest? Visitor? It didn't really matter what to call him except that his existence right now is a secret.

One of your few secrets that had a ticking bomb.

You grabbed your phone from underneath your pillow and dialled a number you hadn't expect yourself to call in months. . . And for the person to answer instantly with a gruffy laugh.

"Well well well, if it isn't the sweet consequence of my actions."

A somber smile lifted on your face at the older voice against your ear. Looks like Tyler won't be the only person calling his father today.

"I need some help."

#tyler galpin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere x you #yandere tyler galpin #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #teresalace #dark fic #tyler galpin #I won't cry for you #tyler galpin x you #tyler galpin fanfic

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greatrunner · 10 months

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Emily (2022), and when a dramatization is just bad

So, I watched this movie about Emily Bronte on Amazon Prime, called Emily (to its blandness). I was really looking forward to just watching a period piece ‘biopic’ about the Bronte sisters, because, despite their fame in the lit world, it’s weird that there’s so little about them in visual media.

From what I actually knew about the Bronte sisters prior to watching this (”a sister trio of writers, cool!”), what’s publicly available about them via documentaries and historians, I figure you’d have to try real, real hard to fuck up a dramatization about them.

And it’s to that end, I should’ve never underestimated director Frances O’Connor’s abilities, because, whew, lord, Emily was hot garbage on a sweltering day.

I really started thinking about how much the film (and novel) romance genre is informed by women’s particular brand of misogyny and sexism. You’ll see [white] women go on and on about sexism from men, especially in media. And not to discredit that, but, I’m honestly beginning to think it’s overcompensation.

No one throws women under the bus quite like other women.

Emily depicts the second best known Bronte sister as “so misunderstood” by her family, but especially by her sister Charlotte Bronte - who is depicted like the stuffy, uncool competitor of another man’s affections, with little to no interest in writing and imagination.

Anne Bronte is basically a background extra with little to no dialog who crumbles under the peer pressure of Charlotte who despises Emily’s need to turn every situation into an opportunity for storytelling.

Like, this film’s beef with Charlotte Bronte, and disinterest in Anne Bronte, is baffling. I come here for sister vibes, and instead I get Mean Girls. The fuck.

Emily Bronte is the embodiment of “not like the other girls”. She hangs with the boys, she smokes, drinks, she has a thinly veiled incestuous relationship with her brother, Branwell Bronte, and fucks generically hot priests (Oliver Jackson Cohen in maybe one the less inspired roles of his career).

Emily Bronte could not be any more of the 21st century white woman’s idea of the “cool girl who reads dark academia” if O’Connor taped the description on actress Emma Mackey’s head.

I can’t stress how much priority this film puts on male characters vs female characters as Emily Bronte’s choice of satellites. And as a justification for why she wrote Wuthering Heights, it’s boringly embarrassing.

Comparatively, Emily makes 2007′s Becoming Jane (starring Anne Hathaway as Jane Austen with a struggle accent) look like an Oscar winning drama (spoilers: I like that movie). Jane, at the very least, isn’t interested in the vilification or minimization of other female characters (that aren’t Professor McGonagall), even as it charts an equally fictionalized (or speculative) romance between Austen and James MacAvoy’s Thomas Lefroy (one that argues he was key in making her writing hit different).

While it’s clearly influenced by Joe Wright’s Pride and Prejudice (2005), Jane Austen’s relationships with her family, particularly her sister, matter in her story arc in the same way Elizabeth Bennett’s do in the aforementioned film. There’s sense of balance, however dramatized Austen’s story became for that film for the sake of a romance plot.

Comparatively, Emily depicts the Bronte family, sans her brother, as obstacles (if they aren’t nonevents) to her indulgences because they’re “oh, so ashamed of her proclivities”. Additionally, I just don’t care about Oliver Jackson-Cohen’s William Weightwright. Nigga is boring. I’d sooner believe Bly Manor’s Peter Quint (Jackson-Cohen, again) was a Healthcliff and homeboy was inspired by whole another ‘gothic lit’ author (Henry James).

For lack of a better word, I really hated this movie. There’s the argument that if you know next to nothing about the Bronte sisters that you might enjoy it. But even on that level, there’s a lot about the storytelling that is bland, and outright hateful imho.

Anyway, I hated everything (except maybe the score, which, as other have said, is overbearing for no rasin). It can die in a fire and be lost to the void of history.

#emily 2022 #bronte sisters #emily bronte #amazon prime #women directors #white women directors #oliver jackson cohen #greatrunners meta

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 2 years

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A STUDY IN YOU, chapter ten

Everyone showed up at work that following Monday morning in a great mood. The request for a full season sprinkled excitement over the conference room, but you liked to think that the way Jason’s weekend started had something to do with the smile on his face.

Back to normal for a few days: internship, classes, offering emotional support to Max when he had another crisis related to his impending 30th birthday and, as he put it, the fact that dating apps were fruitless.

But on Halloween you found yourself at O’Hallorans in a purple velour tracksuit, a thick headband pulled your hair back and over your shoulders when Sophie (in her matching pink tracksuit) showed up with another round.

It was only 9pm--the night was young but you were already tipsy, thanks in part to Max’s credit card and the fact that your text to Jason had gone unanswered for almost two hours.

You clicked your phone shut and slipped it into your pocket, took a dejected sip when Naomi eyed you.

“You seem less energetic than usual,” she noted.

“I’m fine,” you sighed, a smile to let them know that while you might be lying, you’d certainly survive.

“Sudeikis drama?” Sophie pouted theatrically.

People were packed near by the bar like sardines, plenty of students and locals in costume, the music was already too loud.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, they laughed and Max nudged you when he said: “Spill it--stop trying to be all coy about this.”

“He’s right,” Sophie nodded. “Half the fun of fucking your professor is gossiping about it.”

You fought a giggle at that--she wasn’t completely wrong.

“It’s nothing--I texted him and he didn’t reply and I don’t know. Sometimes he’s hard to read.”

“What do you mean hard to read?” Max asked.

“Well--I don’t know. Sometimes he seems super into it but then he pulls back.”

“Well, he’s got to be nervous,” Naomi shrugged. “I know gossiping is fun, but--there’s still a lot at stake.”

Right. The voice of reason.

“Oh come on, don’t ruin it for her and get in her head,” Sophie made a face at Naomi.

“She’s right,” you shook your head. “I’m just a student--just the intern,” you rolled your eyes at Jennie’s words.

“Fuck that,” Sophie said quickly, reaching for your phone. “What’d you say to him?”

She opened your text, a quick smirk at the fact that there was even a thread in the first place. She read your unanswered message out loud.

Any Halloween plans?

“Okay--well, he obviously didn’t reply because there’s nothing sexy about this,” Max looked up at you, disappointed in your flirting skills.

An unimpressed stare at your friend: “I’m a human, not just a vagina.”

“But that’s what he likes best about you,” Max teased, a laugh from all of them when you took your phone back from Sophie.

“It just feels like it’s always a tug of war or something--like we’re always fighting for the upper hand.”

“Well who has it now?” Naomi asked.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Nothing’s happened in a while.”

“How long is a while?” Max pressed, his eyes narrowed when he sipped from his drink.

“Like, a week and a half ago or something,” you said with a flutter of your eyelashes. While you definitely kept them updated and in the loop, you certainly weren’t reading them diary entries or spilling every detail. “We got drinks with the other writers and then he walked me back to my place.”

“Oh my god,” Sophie lifted a shoulder in excitement. “Did he spend the night?”

“What?” You asked, shocked she thought things had progressed that far. “No! No--he walked me home and there was some action, but--no sex and he left pretty quickly.”

“Wait--” Naomi was more interested than you’d seen her previously. Maybe it was the dirty shirley in her cup. “Have you had sex again since that first time?”

“No,” you shook your head before admitting: “other stuff, but no--just that once.”

“Oh my god,” Max shook his head. “You need to sleep with him again.”

“Well--yeah, I mean--I wouldn’t hate that but I don’t want to be clingy or weird or--”

“Don’t overthink it,” Sophie groaned. “Just like Max needs to not overthink the fact that he kind of looks like Martha Stewart in jail instead of a Cheetah Girl.”

You all laughed at that, left O’Halloran’s by 10 to head to another bar where some of Naomi’s friends were already hanging out. You walked with them through campus, turned left outside the Student Center before your eyes trailed up and noticed a light on in a familiar window.

“Uh--you guys can keep walking,” you said suddenly, eyes darting up to Sophie’s when you smirked. “I’m gonna go see if he’s actually up there.”

They laughed and cheered and yelled obnoxious things when you climbed the steps to the building, swiped inside and laughed to yourself when you climbed the stairs. Was this crazy? Yeah.

The third floor was quiet like always, the light at the end of the hall and the sound of typing on a keyboard made your heartbeat pick up with each step.

He didn’t notice until the door latched behind you, he glanced up from his computer and the confusion in his eyes quickly faded to intrigue.

“Hi,” you said quietly, a smile when he stood.

“Hi,” he rounded the corner of his desk, you were already a few steps into the room. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” you purred, pushing up against him quickly. The alcohol you’d already consumed gave the confidence boost you needed. You pressed a kiss to his mouth as you tugged him down. “I texted you.”

“You did?” He smiled, looking over to his phone on the far side of his desk--face down. “Sorry--I’ve been working.”

“I can see that,” you smirked up at him. He looked down at you, took in the sight when his eyes traveled down your body and then back up. You reached forward to trace his outline over the fabric of his khakis.

“I’ve been drinking,” you confessed, a flutter of your eyelashes to let him know that while it was true, you weren’t wasted.

“I can tell,” he laughed. “And while I’m sure I would love whatever you look like you want to do to me—” he laughed, “I can’t.”

“You can’t?” You pouted up at him a little.

He sighed a little at that, like the sound of your voice had him rethinking it. “I would love to fuck you right now,” he nodded, about to say more when you cut him off.

“Good, then this will be quick,” your hand swooped down to graze over him.

“I don’t think you should do that,” he tried again, a coy smile when he shook his head, pushed your hands away from his belt buckle. The look in his eyes told you he dared you to do it.

“Why?” You turned over your shoulder and glanced at the door. “That locks, right?”

“I appreciate the offer, really, I do—”

He tried to stop you, gave in a little when your hand reached inside and wrapped around him.

“Oh, Jesus, Y/N,” he laughed, looked up nervously at the door you’d shut on your way in when you slunk down to your knees.

“The sooner you go along with it the sooner it’ll be over,” you looked up at him from your spot on the floor, licked your tongue right up his length when he swallowed down the desire.

“I’m not—yeah—I can go along with it.”

You pumped with your hand, took him into your mouth and smiled. But he didn’t last long like that, pulled you up and let his hands roam over your skin when he pressed a kiss to your jaw.

“I want more than your mouth,” he confessed. “And I don’t have long but I like the way you look when you’re trying not to scream.”

You knew what he was doing, knew from the look in his eyes that he was trying to take back the upper hand. You smiled up at him, turned him around and pushed him into the chair that sat opposite his desk. The one where you’d sat so many times, the one where his advisors sat as they hand-picked classes for each semester.

You unzipped the jacket you wore, revealed a matching purple tank top and then slid your pants down. His eyes drank you in--all the way down to the matching purple thong--before you straddled him and smirked down.

His voice was deep and throaty. “Are you gonna let me fuck you now?”

You nodded, smirked a little when he shifted beneath you, slid the fabric of your panties aside as he guided himself in. You settled on top of him, breath catching in your throat at how good he felt. He found the rhythm and thrusted in and out, catching your lips with his when his hands reached around to cup your ass.

You pulled your tank top off eventually, loved the way he seemed desperate to unhook your bra. His eyes watched you when his fingers trailed up to thumb against your nipple, your back arched involuntarily and you let out a moan that made him laugh.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled in your ear, “let me feel that pussy cum.”

And you did, you buried your head in his shoulder when he went faster and quicker, pleasantly surprised when he moaned your name into your ear only a few seconds after. You laughed and climbed off when you were finished, reached for a tissue to clean up before finding your clothes around the room.

He looked you up and down when he put his belt back on, trying to make sense of the purple velvet tracksuit. “And you’re supposed to be—”

“One quarter of the Cheetah Girls,” you said confidently, fixed your headband and straightened out the zipper on your jacket. “Sorry—would a school girl have been more your taste?”

He let his brows arch at your sass, walked over and sat at his desk now, hands behind his head when he smirked up at you.

“No,” he shrugged. “Cheetah Girls is good, you still look,” he nodded. “Good.”

You ignored the compliment. “You know who the Cheetah Girls are?”

“I mean I can’t say I’ve seen the movies,” he admitted, head tilted to the side. “But I don’t live under a rock.”

“It was Max’s idea,” you shot him a glance. “It was either this or the four seasons.”

“The band, or the…” he motioned out the window, “earth seasons?”

“The earth seasons,” you clarified with a laugh.

“Well, if monochrome tracksuits ever come back in style, good to know you can rock it.”

“Oh they will,” you said confidently. “Just give it a few years.”

There was a knock on the door then. Jennie smiled and held up a bag of take out food through the window. Your eyes went wide when you took a quick step over to open it.

“Sorry that was locked--old doors and old building,” Jason lied.

“No worries--hey Y/N,” she smiled, “are you joining?”

“No,” you said quickly, eyes darting over to Jason. He said he didn’t have much time but you didn’t know it was because of her. “I was just leaving.”

“You can stay if you want,” Jason said quickly. “Jennie just got dinner--we hadn’t eaten.”

“Oh no,” you shook your head. “That’s okay--I’ve got somewhere to be. Just wanted to give you that assignment,” you tried to cover your tracks.

Jennie came and sat in the chair you’d just had sex in, her eyebrows furrowed with confusion when she took a plastic container out of the bag.

“Thanks, yeah,” Jason nodded. “I’ll uh--grade it ASAP.”

“Sounds good.”

An awkward pause, Jennnie smiled up at you like she could sense something in the room but didn’t know what. You headed for the door and down the hallway, unsure how something could turn from good to bad so quickly.

November 14th, 2018

The first few weeks of November were a blur. Brainstorms and rushing to get ahead on the script left you unable to even think about Jason and the sex in his office on Halloween and how Jennie of all people showed up.

You were annoyed. As petty or as immature as it was, you spent a good two weeks brewing and working yourself up over the thought of the two of them alone together in his office.

Was he sleeping with her, too?

“No fucking way,” Max had his hand around your phone when you showed them a picture one night in Sophie’s living room. “He’s not having sex with her.”

“What makes you so sure?” Naomi forked a bite of noodles into her mouth.

“She’s cute but,” Max shrugged. “She’s not a 27-year-old with a tight ass.”

“Ew,” you made a face at him.

“Why don’t you just ask him if he’s fucking her?” Sophie shrugged, her eyes innocent when she took a hit from the joint Max had brought. “You’re allowed to know if someone you’re sleeping with is sleeping with anyone else.”

“That would be so awkward,” you groaned. “And it might make me seem territorial, which I’m not.”

Max gave a knowing look. “Says the girl who’s literally mad about him hanging out with a coworker.”

“I just think it’s weird that he didn’t tell me she was getting them food--I wouldn’t have had sex with him right then if I knew that!”

“He wanted you so badly he just couldn’t say no,” Sophie said this wistfully, a giggle when she handed the joint to Naomi.

“Maybe,” you sighed, “but I don’t know—having sex with him is one thing, a love triangle is a whole other level of insane.”

“You’re not insane,” Max reassured. “You’re lustful and swept away in the romance,” he wrapped his arms around himself and wiggled excitedly.

“And I don’t want to bite off more than I can chew,” you reminded them all.

“You can handle him, are you kidding me?” Sophie got fired up at this, her forehead wrinkled when she leaned forward to give you a shove. “You’re young and hot and he's trying to not get fired for fucking his intern! You have the power!”

You looked at her, nodded slowly when it sunk in.

“He needs you more than you need him,” she smiled.

You weren’t sure if you bought it, though Sophie spent plenty of time that evening trying to convince you. On Wednesday you decided to just act normal, you scribbled over the script in a red pen and wondered what made him walk in almost twenty minutes late.

You grabbed lunch with Javier and stayed until 7pm, excited to finish a pivotal scene for the main character.

You now had a full map of the rest of the season: post-it notes stuck up around the room with the details and plot points in Jason’s handwriting.

You eyed him quietly when he tugged his jacket on.

“Long day,” you commented, a few steps into the hallway when he was right behind you. You read a text from Naomi about upcoming plans when he laughed a little.

“Yeah, welcome to the stressful part.”

“Why is this the stressful part?”

He followed you to the elevator, put his hands in his pockets when the doors split apart. “Now we’ve got to deliver a whole season and put our money where our mouths are.”

He glanced over to you quickly, almost like he, too, thought about how his mouth felt when he trailed down your jaw.

You nodded, offered a smile when Dan slipped into the elevator just before the doors closed. A few laughs on the way down to the ground floor, Dan split off when you and Jason turned left towards the subway.

You looked up at him quickly, a tugging in your chest when you cleared your throat.

“Would you—uh—wanna get dinner, or something?”

Not a date. You weren’t trying to do anything. It just felt human.

“Oh,” he looked over his shoulder, a restaurant nearby that you knew he liked. “Uh—I actually have to get home, uh—just, yeah, maybe another night.”

You nodded, swallowed down the sharp edges of rejection. “Yeah—sure.”

It stung, even though you wished it didn’t. You faked a phone call and let him catch the train without you, too wounded to sit beside him and count the stops until your walk home.

November 22nd, 2018

“Y/N--can you talk for a second before you go?”

Those words would typically raise your pulse. But now, when Jason glanced in your direction as the rest of your classmates packed up, your stomach flipped and your heartbeat climbed.

Your contact with him had declined after Halloween, a result of your own pettiness and immaturity paired with an increase in work stress.

But that wasn’t all. Your anxiety had upped the ante, now sprinkled thoughts like who else is he hooking up with into your morning coffee.

You nodded when you met his eyes, took your time making an edit on the script when he shut his laptop. The last few students trickled out of the room. Once you were alone he cleared his throat.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you looked up at him, your best attempt at a calm demeanor.

“How are you?”

“Good,” you laughed a little. It’s not like you didn’t see him almost 5 days a week. It’s not like he didn’t know what you’d been up to.

“Yeah?” He nodded, a hesitant smile when you put your computer to sleep and stood. “Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Why’s that?” You asked, eyebrows dipping when he shrugged.

An air of confidence when he let out a deep breath. “Feels like things have been kind of weird since Halloween.”

“Halloween,” you nodded, acting aloof as you tugged your bag over your shoulder. “Hmm.”

He laughed quietly, kept his eyes on yours when he spoke: “I’m sorry if Jennie showing up like—weirded you out.”

You shook your head quickly, tried to play it off. “Oh, no—it’s whatever, it’s not a big deal.”

His eyebrows raised in slight surprise, he waited a beat but gave you a knowing look.

“We were just working on the script and,” he shrugged, “I obviously have a hard time saying no to you.”

You licked your lips and nodded, unsure what to say. If you admitted it bothered you it would tip him off, let him know that you thought about what he did on the weekends and wondered what type of cereal he ate.

He’d know you were jealous or petty and he’d know that in the deepest darkest depths of your brain a part of you whispered: what if I’m actually into him?

“I’ve just never had to interact socially with someone so quickly after an orgasm,” you said honestly, a smirk at your upcoming word choice. “Aside from the person I’m fucking.”

You watched him swallow, nod slowly when he smirked. “Right.”

“But we’re good,” you nodded quickly.

“Okay,” he nodded, but his eyebrows dipped like he didn’t really believe you.

“Okay,” you smiled a little and turned to leave, made sure to let your hips sway a little extra when you walked right out of the classroom.

table of contents | talk to me & join the tag list | the playlist

tag list: @sheerangermany @clarebearr @tedlassostan @hart-kinsella @kahluamystery97 @airplanes924 @trulymadlykiki @thisismysecondrodeo @mypugsley @jng4kook @msolbesg @stankface @ljej95 @ivetastedbloodanditissweet @pascal-reyes @paola-carter @rubberduckingaro @golden-hoax @ccbb2222 @caplikeme @outofthecradlex @mackenzmeme @reann-shitposting @very-berry-harry @winter-soldier-007 @tinydeskwriter @femmel90 @shawnsblue @iwanttogoeverywhereplease @sillyeverydays

AN: ten whole chapters of a professor jason fic i am laughing very hard. SO GLAD you guys like this story, and I can't wait for it to get a little more juicy now that things are actually steamy between Jason and MC!

#asiy #a study in you #jason sudeikis fic #jason sudeikis #jason sudeikis fan fic #jason sudeikis fanfic #jason sudeikis blurb #jason sudeikis writing #jason sudeikis fan fiction #jason sudeikis fanfiction #jason sudeikis reader insert #jason sudeikis x yn #jason sudeikis x reader

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bridgeportbritt · 2 years

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SimDonia Prepatory | Hallow Slough, SimDonia

Professor Mayberry: When the government was established, it was agreed that there would be Council Committee Leaders who specialize in Commerce, Agriculture, Education, Parks and Recreation, Tourism, and Public Services for each city.

Professor Mayberry: The Council Committee Leaders are led by the Council Chairs who are led by the City’s Mayor. The Mayor’s work with their Lord of Parliament who, in turn, work directly with the Monarchy. Each government leader plays an integral role in keeping our country running. Any questions?

???: I have a question, Professor.

Professor Mayberry: Yes, go ahead, Karlee.

Karlee: I can understand the function of the Council Chairs and Lords and such. But what exactly is the purpose of the Monarchy? I mean, aren’t our tax dollars mainly just paying for fancy figureheads at this point?

Professor Mayberry: Well, Karlee. That is the opinion of some. That SimDonia has evolved past the need for a Monarchy system, at all. Class, anyone know why some believe, otherwise?

Ella: May I, Professor?

Professor: Yes, Ella, of course.

Ella: The Monarchy system is useful in SimDonia because it provides a checks and balances system in our government. States with more cities have more Mayors who then have more influence in Parliament. The Monarchy includes a duchy in all states. Mayors have far less influence over Dukes than Lords. They can’t fund their reelection campaign, bribe, or even marry into the Royal Family. Without the Monarchy, there is more room for corruption in government.

Karlee Scoffs: As if the Royal Family is immune to corruption.

Ella annoyed: Did I say that or are you hard of hearing?

Professor Mayberry: Alright, girls. That’s enough, but good discussion. Mr. Stephens! Anything you’d like to input or are we putting you to sleep?

Luka yawns: No, Professor. Great discussion. I... like what Ella said.

Class laughs and bell dings

Professor Mayberry: Alright class, be sure to read Chapter 4 in your books for homework. We will be discussing the Hallow Slough Council at length next class!

Ella annoyed: Ugh. I swear to Watcher. I cannot stand Karlee!

Luka chuckles: Why do you let her rile you up so much, Elle?

Ella: She’s always coming for me! You think her comments about the Royal Family being useless were random?? It’s me she wants to demolish me, not the Monarchy.

Luka: Aw, I won’t let her, babe. Promise.

Ella chuckles: Sorry. Maybe she is driving me more crazy than normal ever since... you know.

Luka: Yeah, I’m still sorry about how all that went down. If I had known she was going to kiss me, I would’ve-

Ella: Yeah, it’s fine. We don’t need to talk about it, again.

Luka: So... a whole chapter for homework tonight? Man, if this class is anything like Sophomore History, I’m screwed.

Ella: What do you mean?

Luka: Gotta keep my grades up if I want to stay on the soccer team. I was barely keeping up last year.

Ella: Need some study help? My friends and I study in the library every Tuesday and Thursday.

Luka: Uh... I’m not sure about that Ella.

Ella: Why not?

Luka: Do you think your friends would be cool with that? I’m not sure how they feel about me after everything that’s happened.

Ella: Oh, stop. If I’m cool, then they’re cool. It’ll be fun!

Luka: Okay, if you say so. I’ll see you at lunch, beautiful.

#simdonia #chap 10 #sims of color #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 story #ts4 #royal sims #royal simblr #fresh luka at it again lol #very proud of ella's reasoning lol #i feel like karlee looking for another punching lol #sim: ella #sim: luka #sim: karlee

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greycappedjester · 2 years

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Hey hey! I only just recently joined Tumblr, (only joined a few months ago to follow you right after I read the hq@hw series) but while I was skimming through ALL Hinata and Oikawa related posts, I found a question that I really liked. (sorry if the question was one you already answered) What would the "fatal flaw/s" of the trio/Hinata be?

Yay! I'm so glad you like the series. I talked a little bit about the trio's fatal flaws here but let me know if you want to know more.

I can definitely say more about Hinata's now.

Hinata's fatal flaw is his trust and automatic forgiveness. I'm really big on the idea that someone's biggest strength is tied to their fatal flaw and, for Hinata, his heart and never ending ability to extend a hand has the ability to break him just as much as it makes him. Hinata has been through a lot of bad experiences and betrayls--the attack that knocked him off his broom in the first right before Christmas, Sora a trusted teacher turning on him in the first book, everything with the diary in the second, "Rezei" in the third book attacking him, so much in the fourth. Surpsingly enough, Hinata's general worldview has stayed stubbornly unchanged, enough that multiple people have commented on it.

Oikawa gave him a serious look. “You had an Unforgivable Curse used on you, were nearly torn apart by a werewolf, and your best friend’s aunt almost murdered you for being a muggleborn? How could you possibly be fine ?”

“Yeah, but…,” Hinata frowned, pushing down the darker fears that threatened to rise with the familiarity of ease. “But, it’s not like I actually died, right? And everything kinda turned out alright so...I’m fine?”

Oikawa continued to stare at him and Hinata didn’t like the way it made him squirm, uncomfortable as if there was something he was avoiding. Like he was hiding.

Shrieking Shack, Ch. 23

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A figure stood beside the Headmaster and Hinata focused just enough to make out Professor Nekomata shaking his head. “I really didn’t think it would work that easily?”

A loud sigh.

“It shouldn’t have. Mr. Hinata, please learn to be more cautious”

Hinata decided to figure out what that meant after he woke up.

Triwizard Tournament, Ch. 21...tho ironic

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Also must be mentioned. Litterally last chapter:

Minaho flicked her wand and the teapot floated up to start pouring him a cup. Hinata tried not to squirm too obviously.

“It’s not poisoned if that’s what you’re about to ask,” Minaho told him.

Hinata blinked. “Oh….that’s good. I didn’t really think it was.”

Minaho tilted her head before letting it go. “Well, that’s one of you at least.

-------

And, last but certainly not least:

When he looked up, he at least seemed there . Like he was actually looking at Hinata instead of lost in whatever had been before. “You’re going to give me a bloody heart attack . You know that, Shouyou?”

Hinata gave a small shrug. “Headmaster Ukai did ask. Kinda. I guess? I didn’t really question it.”

Korai groaned. “Shouyou, please, please learn to be less trusting. I’m begging you.” He shook his head. “Forget the water bottle, I should have gotten you one of those kid leashes. Like they use on toddlers.”

Triwizard Tournament, Ch. 25

Trust without understanding the risk and forgiveness without fully acknowledging the wrong isn't as meaningful. For a lot of this, Hianta trusts, forgives, and sees the best in people not entirely out of conscious choice but because it's what feels better to him mentally....it doesn't always mean it's the wisest or (ironically even the most compasionate choice). It's also the exact opposite of Oikawa's paranoia and distrust.

----

“Well,” Oikawa said conversationally, “you’d forgive half the world while they continue to set the other half on fire. Because isn’t anger so uncomfortable for you? So, let’s not talk about the price of your pride, Hinata.”

“I didn’t say that,” Hinata argued. “I just want to fight to protect something rather than tear it down.”

Oikawa sighed. “You’re so irritating. You realize that, right? What here is worth your protection?”

“Anything.”

Ice started to form along the stone.

“That's very noble, Hinata; but, if you’ll excuse me from lighting your pyre.”

Triwizard Tournament, Ch. 29

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This is one of the major elements of Hinata's character arc. Hinata still has a lot of growing to do along with understanding his own limits.

To end, if you'll let me have one more quote:

Takeda gave him a fond look as if he’d already expected that answer. “It’s nice to have that dream. But, the world’s…it’s so, so much bigger than anyone can care for in its entirety. That’s part of what makes it wonderful, I believe…what makes it dangerous, too.” He sighed. “If it’s left to it, the heart can break itself down with only the kindest of intention. To care? Well, there’s always a limit, isn’t there?”

Hinata frowned. “I don’t think there’s a limit to kindness. That sounds…kinda horrible, actually.”

“Maybe it is,” Takeda agreed. “For kindness, you’re right--I don’t think there’s a limit to what we want to do. I know there’s a limit to how much we can do.”

“Isn’t that bad, though,” Hinata asked. “To not be able to do everything we want?”

And, unexpectedly, Takeda laughed. “Oh, it’s worse than bad, I’m afraid. It’s human. The most human failing imaginable.”

#hq at hogwarts

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v-thinks-on · 1 year

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My offers for this year’s FTH auction!

Type of fanwork: Written - Fanfic Fandom(s): Sherlock Holmes: Arthur Conan Doyle stories, A Study in Emerald; Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century, X-Men (comics or movies), Ace Attorney Highest rating: T (Teen) Length/scope: Less than 5k words

Especially interested in: I love established relationships, hurt/comfort, and working through trauma. Also crossovers. Holmes/Watson: I’ve been thinking about putting them in horror or fantastical situations. I also love the role reversal of Holmes trying to care for Watson, whether early in their relationship or in retirement around WWI. Or maybe Holmes reconnecting with Victor Trevor. Magneto/Professor X: I especially like their later relationship, being there for each other despite years of animosity. I’m also fond of First Class, and the idea of Magneto getting used to the mundanities of normal life. In addition, I’m Jewish and bring that perspective to writing Magneto. Phoenix/Edgeworth: A newer fandom for me and a bit more wide open, happy to write something based on canon or an AU (as long as DL-6 stays roughly intact). I’d also be interested in writing Kirk/Spock (TOS only), Superman/Batman (but not DCEU), Jeeves/Wooster, Satterthwaite/Quin (Agatha Christie), Yugi/Yami Yugi (Yu-Gi-Oh), Takao/Midorima (Kuroko’s Basketball).

Unwilling to address: I’m pretty set on my ships and would like to focus on them, though I’m fine with open relationships and including friendships with other characters. I also don't write NSFW or noncon of any kind (including drunken confessions and the like), pining isn’t my cup of tea, and I’d rather not do something with an unhappy ending. X-Men - I'm not really interested in the new continuity movies after First Class or complete AUs that don’t include Magneto and Professor X’s canon roles in mutant politics (or something similar). Ace Attorney - I’ve only played the first three games, so I’m not really equipped to write anything that involves elements from later games.

Notes: One of the reasons I’m excited to contribute to FTH is because I’ve been a little short on ideas of my own lately, so I would especially encourage you to bid if you already have an idea (the more detailed, the better) for a story you’d love to see, but just don’t want to write yourself, or would enjoy brainstorming with me to come up with a story that’s tailored to your tastes. I can also be a little picky in regard to tropes, so expect a bit of a brainstorming process in any case to come up with something that we both love. The more involved you are, the more motivated I’ll be, so the faster the project will come together and the more I’m likely to write.

Type of fanwork: Fan Labor - Betaing Fandom(s): Any Highest rating: M (Mature) Length/scope: 1 round of edits on 1k words per $1 bid (more flexible for brainstorming)

Notes about labor offered: I do a very thorough edit for wording and flow, and can also help with brainstorming and hammering out plot and characters. For shorter stories (or a larger donation), I’m happy to do multiple rounds to get it perfect. The main exceptions are I can't cheerlead, and I'm better at sentence flow than grammar.

Especially interested in: I have a particular love of historical fandoms and antiquated prose, but I’m broadly happy with most genres, romance or gen, and am happy to edit for ships and fandoms I’m not familiar with.

Unwilling to address: I can't edit sex scenes, but am happy to read around them, and I would prefer nothing too violent, no noncon, nor teacher/student pairings. I'm also more picky in fandoms that I'm closer to, so unless you think it aligns closely with my work and would benefit from my particular perspective on the characters, or is a very distant AU, I'd be hesitant to edit Holmes/Watson, Kirk/Spock, or Jeeves/Wooster. Pining is also not really for me, so I might not be the best person for editing it.

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snippychicke · 2 years

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For the Sake of a Smile--Short Nine

Title: For the Sake of a Smile-- Short Nine: Man to... Man? Talk

Fandom: Welcome to Demon School, Iruma-kun!

Summary: Hell on earth was your motto for your job. Granted, you were pretty sure earth really was hell, considering the shit you had seen. And the fact your coworker was a child. Suzuki Iruma, in fact. A kid who’s life was decidedly worse than yours, but smiled despite everything.

And you’d do a lot for his smile. Including summoning a demon and signing your life away.

But as it turns out, hell (The Netherworld, actually) was a lot better than living on earth. Demons were more humane than a lot of humans you knew.

And Iruma’s smile wasn’t the only one that would change your life.

Chapter Nine | Ao3| mairimashitai! Simps Discord

Balam set the stack of picture books on the table, happy to see Iruma smile excitedly. "These should go over the subjects you're having difficulty with. Bahamut's reign over the southern waste, and some of the magic fundamentals you may be missing.”

"Thanks so much, Professor!" The boy grinned, flipping through some of the pages carefully, examining the artwork inside. "I know mom will love to read the ones on magic to help her with those Runes."

"Er, speaking of your mother…" Balam started, rubbing his neck, and then itching at the prickly hair growing there.

"Oh, yeah! Did she come see you earlier?"

He blinked at the boys question, a little surprised by it. Iruma caught the confused expression and chuckled nervously. "My class and I… we noticed you've been on edge. And - well - one thing led to another and we asked mom if she knew what was going on, since none of us exactly wanted to ask Professor Kalego. But, she's avoided us ever since, so I-I was worried about what happened."

"It's… complicated," He admitted after a moment of contemplation. Maybe he should write a book on molt and other such cycles of other types of demons. Not just for you and Iruma, but maybe for future students as well to help foster understanding.

Though so far only a few from the misfit class seemed interested in them. Clara in particular, from what Iruma had said in the past.

"She did help," Balam continued, pushing those thoughts away until later. "Hopefully things should be more normal." At least, for a day or two. Then he secretly worried he'd go hunting for you, tempted by your earlier offer. "But, something she said made me wonder… how exactly do humans… court?"

It was awkward asking Iruma such a thing, but his alternative was asking you - and he feared that would be even more awkward. Would you assume (correctly) that he was asking because of you, or just because he was curious? After all, the deeper mechanics of human society was a complete mystery to him.

"Court?" Iruma repeated thoughtfully. "Well, from what I understand that's pretty much what we call 'dating'. And - well - usually people will spend time together, and maybe bring each other gifts, like chocolates or other sweets, and flowers. Plus, you know, hold hands and stuff like that."

That's really all it took to court in the human realm? It seemed so… tame. Granted, he had always theoriezed their world was simpler and kinder than the Netherworld.

Wait - spending time together? Bringing gifts like sweets, holding hands and being affectionate?

Those… were things you had been doing. You would often come to visit and spend time with him when you could. And ever since Opera exposed his secret sweet tooth, you often brought something from the kitchens to share while you talked.

While you never really initiated anything, you never complained about his skin-ship habit. If anything, you embraced his touch - often happily leaning into him.

You hadn't argued when Kalego teased about flirting as he had expected. Instead, you had looked at him silently - obviously flustered, but he had been too flustered himself to really think.

Actually… that's when things had seemed to change, and you had more or less withdrawn from him.

Had he missed some kind of basic human cue? Had you already been courting him? And he had been completely oblivious as Kalego claimed.

Both panic and excitement gripped his heart as his thoughts became a disjointed mess. Could you really have been trying to court, was that why you asked about it today? Had he unknowingly messed things up?

"Uh, professor?" Iruma spoke, shocking him out of his thoughts. "Are you okay?"

"Oh yes," He answered, forcing a smile. "Just… distracted for a moment there. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I just agreed to meet Ameri in five minutes…"

Balam's smile became more natural, though equally hidden by his mask as he reached over to ruffle the boy's hair affectionately. "Best not keep the council president waiting. Just let me know what you think of the books later."

"Of course!" The boy carefully placed the books in his bag before holstering it over his shoulder. "Oh, and Professor Balam?" He paused halfway towards the door. "I really do hope you and Mom figure things out, and I know Grandpa and Opera are cheering you guys on too."

With that, Iruma left while Balam was struggling to process his words, and the implications behind them.

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