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Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Printable Version

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Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-04-2015

    "It applies," he said with a furrow of his brow, because he didn't know why people kept making that argument. He wished she'd stop wiggling. "It's not about my face. It's about experience." Their age gap wasn't as bad as it could have been, but if he hadn't been a vampire, there would have been no question that it was a mile wide. This was going to get worse the older he got, and he wasn't really looking forward to it.

    Shit. He'd accidentally suggested she was a slut. Sort of accidentally. That had been a serious concern, actually. If he was just another... whatever this was. "That wasn't what I meant," he said, even though he was relieved to know she couldn't possibly be lying. Not that it was any of his business. Not that he had any right to feel so irritated at the thought of her saying something like that to one of the other professors.

    "Barely," he said, because he remembered when he'd thought he was an adult and remember that he'd been wrong. They were not, in fact, both capable of anything. Maybe she was, but he certainly wasn't. "I'm not--" He bit off his words with a groan as she backed into him, a slight reflexive rock to his hips rubbing his length against her through their clothes.

    "Shouldn't do that," he snapped, and he let go of her hip to swat at the part of her ass not currently pressing against him. Which he should not have done. Absolutely should not have. He didn't hit her hard, it was more of a warning than anything, but she cried out in surprise and... delight? That sounded suspiciously like delight.

    Christ. He was grinding against her like a dog, what the hell was wrong with him?

    He gave up and put his hands on her hips, pulled her against him. "Is this what you want?" he demanded.

    "Almost," she said, wiggling a little, making him bite back a groan. He spanked her again, and this time there was less surprise in her yelp.

    "Stop that," he said, though he was careful to keep his eyes away from hers as he said it. But then he leaned forward, tangled fingers in green hair to tilt her face towards him so that he could look her in the eye. "Tell me if you change your mind," he compelled, as if that made it okay. As if that was the only problem with this situation.

    "I won't," she said with a confident tilt of her brow that was both arousing and infuriating. Having his body bent over hers, pressed against hers; his erection was almost painful. He should not have been doing this, this was not a thing that he did. Not just not often, not ever.

    "Grab the edge of the desk," he ordered, and again he was careful not to look her in the eye. Just in case. She obeyed immediately anyway, fingers curling around the wood. "This is... a lesson," he said, and he was justifying the situation to himself as much as talking to her. "This is an object lesson in being careful what you wish for."

    "I'm a good student," she parroted back to him as his hands slid beneath her waist to unbuckle her shorts and slide them down her hips.

    "Good students don't talk while I'm teaching," he shot back, hands sliding over newly bared skin. This time when he spanked her he leaned back, did it hard enough to leave a red handprint in her skin. She cried out and then whimpered, and when his fingers dipped between her legs he found her soaked. Two fingers pushed deeper and curled, and her whimpers gave way to pleased moans. "Good students don't try to distract me from my job," he added, "with skimpy outfits and red lipstick."

    "I always wear red lipstick," she protested, panting. "And it's hot in here."

    The hand not inside her slid along her ribcage outside of her shirt, around until he could squeeze one of her breasts. "You weren't trying to get my attention?"

    "I didn't think it would work."

    "You didn't think," he corrected, fingers sliding out of her to unzip his jeans, a slight bend to his knees. When his cock pressed against her, she tried to arch back into him. He held her down by her hips. "Ask."

    "Do I have to raise my hand?" she teased.

    "Only if you want me to raise mine," he warned. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?"

    "I do!"

    "Do what?" he pressed, because he wanted to hear her say it directly.

    "I want you to fuck me! I want you to fuck me, how many different ways do I need to say it?"

    "As many as I want," he said, finally obliging by sliding his cock between her legs and inside of her as she continued attempting to push back against him. He stopped holding her down, and immediately she was bracing her palms against the desk to impale herself on him. Which was, honestly, one hell of a thing to watch. "Say it again."

    "I want you to fuck me," she whined, squirming on his cock. He tangled his fingers in her hair again so he could see the shape of her mouth as he thrust into her. "Harder," she pleaded immediately.

    "Good students don't give their professors orders," he snarled, nevermind that he was thrusting harder exactly as she'd asked. "Or ask their professors to fuck them. What do you think that makes you?"

    "A ve-e-ery good student?" she suggested, her voice shaking as he thrust into her, her breasts pressed hard against the top of his desk as he held her down.

    "That's the first wrong answer you've ever given me," he said, trying and failing not to sound faintly amused. More amused because she was incapable of being deliberately dishonest, meaning she considered it a perfectly valid answer. "You don't sound like you're learning your lesson." He bent low again, brought his face dangerously close to her neck. "Tell me you're sorry for being a slut," he growled low, and she shivered, tightening around him.

    Her mouth opened, but the only sound that emerged were pants and whimpers and moans, no words at all. "I can't," she said finally, a note of helpless distress. "I'm not sorry."

    That was what did it. That was what made him thrust harder, faster, the sound of her racing heart thumping so loud in his ears that his rhythm matched it like a reflex. Her hands had left the edge of the desk, slid lower and lower as she tried to get more leverage to push back against him when his every thrust seemed like it pushed her away. His hands found their way on top of hers, fingers lacing with hers as he pressed them against the desk, wood digging into her thighs as he thrust hard enough to make the desk rock.

    It barely even registered when she cried out again beneath him, when she tightened around him, when her fingers finally seemed to uncurl from where she'd been trying to claw at the desk. When he came it took everything he had not to sink his teeth into her shoulder, and he felt keenly the lack of blood on his tongue, the thing that would have made the moment perfect. His eyes had gone dark again, but it was fleeting, gone as soon as he'd finished filling her. More than filling her, in fact, mingled arousal running down the insides of her thighs.

    He pulled away from her, running his hand through his hair as he considered the fact that he had just fucked up royally.

    "I shouldn't have done that," he said aloud, his voice strained. "I should not have…" He trailed off, fumbling with the fly of his jeans as he tried to get himself back into something resembling order.

    God, he was hungry.



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - megs - 07-04-2015

    "It's a bit late to worry about that.."

    Veronica pushed herself from the desk onto legs that still trembled with pleasant aftershocks. She was undeniably a mess, and pulling her shorts back over her hips and securing them at her midriff did nothing to hide the evidence of their spontaneity. It appeared that she was going to be skipping a few classes, after all. She turned around to face him, propping herself against the desk as she had earlier and began pulling bobby pins from her hair. Carefully crafted victory rolls that had been ruined during the exchange tumbled into her face. 

    "Before you have a panic attack on me, I am going to present you with a series of facts." He'd asked for an hour of honesty, and there was still time left on the clock. Though, she was unaware that he had compelled her to do so, the need to be truthful still nagged at her. Her argument was not as well thought out as she needed it to be, but she was going to wing it. 

    "I like you," she began, moving away from the desk and closer to him. "And yes, it does have something to do with your face." She resisted the urge to touch him, because she did not want to freak him out anymore than he already was, so she laced her fingers behind her back and looked up at him. She tried not to appear as smug as she felt. "I can’t say that I don't care that you are a vampire, because that would be rude, and invalidate that I like your aforementioned face. Granted, I don't know how old you actually are, but I'm also not bothered by it."

    She was smirking when she stepped to the side and moved around the desk to where her things were gathered on a chair. "We have common interests," she stated, matter of fact, as she tied her jacket around her hips in a vain attempt to look presentable. 

    "And I think you like me, too," she pulled her compact out of her purse. She flipped it open to examine her lipstick, while managing to look calm and collected when she was all giddy and electric on the inside. "That aside, the sex is amazing, if I do say so myself."

    Satisfied with her appearance, she put the mirror away and turned to press her palms to the desk with a contented sigh. "I think it's only fair that we give this a chance."



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-04-2015

    Veronica was right, of course. He should have been thinking about this before it happened. Which, in fairness, he had. He just hadn't cared enough. Michael hadn't done much to her lipstick, but he'd certainly done a number on her hair. He kind of liked the way it looked disheveled. He tried not to.

    "I don't have panic attacks," he lied. He crossed his arms across his chest, and wasn't actually looking at her. Behind her, at the board and the papers on the desk, and just about everywhere except her. His eyes flicked towards hers as she spoke, but he couldn't sustain it. They inevitably travelled to her mouth, to her hair, and then away again. When she walked away his eyes followed the sway of her hips, her face as she looked in the mirror.

    "I'm not saying I don't…" He trailed off, because he couldn't bring himself to say the words like you. That made it sound, somehow, like something more than it was. More than sex, more than a bad decision fueled by lust. It couldn't be more than that. "We can't do this again," he settled on instead. "You're a student. If anyone finds out about this, I am dead." He paused. "More dead." He moved closer to the desk, and looked across it at her, hands resting across from hers. "That is not hyperbole. I mean that Dr. Said will put a stake through my heart in the middle of a lecture as a warning to the other professors. This isn't… we can't date. We can't be seen together. I sleep most of the time that you're awake. And even if I weren't… this isn't all about me. I mean. If people knew, they would… people make assumptions." He ran a hand through his hair.

    "There is no chance to give," he sighed. "Even if you're… even if we're…"



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - megs - 07-04-2015

    His face was very close to hers, all handsome and brooding, as he continued to speak. She had expected answers like these, but she figured he'd be less adamant. That he would just need more convincing than usual. She paled, and it was only visible in comparison to how she'd been blushing before. She drew back, fingers sliding over the polished wood and her brow furrowed. She frowned down at him. 

    "Dr. Said doesn't have to find out," she suggested with a shrug. She didn't see how it was any of Dr. Said's business. She knew of the stigma surrounding around the concept, but they were still two consenting adults. Her confident act was slipping the more he made it sound like it all been a mistake. The more he sounded ashamed. She cleared her throat, and shifted her weight. She was becoming hyper-aware of the stickiness between her thighs, the remaining evidence of what they'd done. 

    He didn't say it. He didn't say that he liked her, and he only looked at her every other sentence. She would not feel used. She refused to add a negative connotation to something she'd wanted as much as he had. As much as she thought he had. 

    "Assumptions?" She repeated, voice pitching higher. She crossed her arms over her chest. Anger clouded her expression. "Even if we're what?" She prods. Calm and collected seemed to be forgotten in favor of not getting too angry. She was also having to put a lot of effort into not floating off the ground. 

    "Why do you care so much about what other people think?"



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-04-2015

    "You're my student," he said. "You're my TA. I'm older than you, and I'm in a position of authority over you, and I can… make people do things. You're an attractive young woman, and I put you in a position where you're alone with me on a regular basis, and – do you not see how any of this is a problem?" He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down, because if he dwelled on it he really might have a panic attack.

    There were university policies about exactly this kind of thing. He had taken special classes about not fucking students and filled out paperwork in triplicate assuring everyone that he would not fuck his students. It had seemed so ridiculous, at the time. Of course he wouldn't. Who would ever be that stupid? He would, apparently.

    "You're a good student," he repeated, and then he wished he hadn't. He ran both his hands through his hair this time, obviously flustered as a different kind of tension rose between them. "I don't want any of that to be… in question. You work hard, and you're very smart, and this isn't worth sacrificing your academic career for."

    Maybe these kinds of things should have waited until later. When they hadn't just had sex. He should have just gone home, he should have let these observations wait until that night, should have given her time to think about what happened and come to these conclusions on her own. Because she would have, surely.

    "That's not – what I care about is what they do. Like fire me, or kill me, or not give you the respect you deserve. If we weren't… who we are…" Usually he had years of practice with his lectures. He was not as good at improvising on the fly, not even by half. This was not something he had ever rehearsed. "I would be perfectly happy to take you out for coffee, or whatever it is that people do, now. But those are not things that are options for me. For… us."



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - megs - 07-04-2015

    Of course she could see how it was a problem. Even before he bulleted each of the individual reasons why. Carefully laid out points that she had considered, herself, and then subsequently ignored. She felt utterly ridiculous and not half as smart as he claimed. Foolish for thinking he would make any sort of gratuitous exceptions for her. She was the one not looking at him now, eyes downcast to the floor like she was being scolded. Trying not to think about how she liked the sound of his voice, and wondering what he would sound like if she had her mouth around his cock.

    A good student, he kept saying, and now she would never be able to hear it without thinking about the way he'd touched her. She was exceptional, really, but not enough to make sacrifices for. She would have never expected him to make sacrifices. She had thought that things could have carried on exactly as they were, that outside of school they could have been together. 

    "Fine." One word that was harsher than she'd meant it to be, uttered when he'd finished thoroughly rejecting her. Something that she would have liked him to do before fucking her. She was motionless overall, arms still crossed beneath her breasts, but emerald strands had begun hovering near her face as the gravity around her went awry.

    "You're right, you’re totally right," she still wasn't looking at him, her face back to being crimson and her voice was thick and sticking to her throat. 

    She moved to gather her things, floating more than she was walking, because she had a hard time staying on the ground when she was upset. She threw the strap of her bag over her shoulders, picked up another file of papers to grade and snatched her torn essay from the desk, and then her coffee.

    "Nothing happened," she suggested, her hour of honestly depleted as she looked him in the eye. "Nothing happened, because nothing can happen." She reiterated his words to be spiteful, but also to infer that she had understood his decision. "I can find you another assistant if you would prefer."



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-04-2015

    Michael stepped away from the desk as she moved to give her a wide berth. He'd made it worse. He was clearly doing this all wrong. Except, this was what he wanted, wasn't it? He wanted her to leave, he wanted her to give up on whatever it was she thought they could be. Of course she was upset. She should have known better. But she was a student, and she was young; it was his job to know better. And he hadn't. And now she sounded heartbroken. Maybe it would have been different if he could have kissed her. Just once, risked having his mouth on her.

    "I don't want another assistant," he said finally, defeated. He should never have agreed to have one in the first place. Especially Veronica Whitmore. "I understand if you don't want to TA anymore, but I don't want another one." He'd only said yes to her because…

    … well, because he wanted to fuck her, apparently. Which he now had. An object lesson in being careful what you wish for.

    "I'll give you the course credit," he suggested. "You don't have to… show up." He made a small gesture toward the empty desks. "No one else does." He swallowed what had almost been a bitter laugh. "I'm very sorry that I did this to you, Miss Whitmore." Then he paused, because he realized her steps hadn't been sounding right, her hair was doing things it shouldn't have. He hesitated before he spoke, eyes on a curl of green that seemed to be floating. "Is that… you…?" he asked slowly, because if it wasn't that meant it was possible that there was An Incident occurring. Which, setting aside the other problems at hand, meant they might need to evacuate the building.

    Which was going to be a hell of a thing when the sun was out.



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - megs - 07-04-2015

    Veronica had not been known to take credit where it wasn't due, and she certainly wasn't going to start now. She liked to do things the hard way it seemed. Things like becoming the assistant of a professor who didn't want one, and developing feelings for people she shouldn't.

    "I'm not quitting," she explained, and she almost sounded offended that he'd suggested it. She would continue to come on the days she was allotted, if for no other reason than to torture him. To remind him what they had done, and how he'd turned her down. "I will try not to be so distracting in the future," she muttered over a sip of room temperature coffee. 

    "Don't you dare," she interrupted, eyes flashing as they narrowed into a glare. "You don't get to apologize to me. You didn't do anything to me that I didn't want you to and you don't get to act like you didn't enjoy it." She clutched the papers tighter, she rolled her shoulder to adjust her bag. She was fidgety most of the time, but especially when emotional. 

    "Yes, it's me," she snaps, upset with herself, and him for a myriad of reasons, but currently for pointing it out. She shook her head quickly as if that would but the locks back where they belong. "I can't help it, it happens when I get frustrated." The campus was lousy with meta-humans, so it's not like she had to worry about admitting she had unusual abilities. 

    Frustrated was an understatement. She was hurt, and embarrassed. Trying and failing not to show how she didn't have her feelings under control. She was an adult, she had argued, but here she was pouting like a child. 



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-05-2015

    He should have known she'd turn him down. Of course she would. She'd taken his class twice. No one did that who wasn't stubborn as hell. "You're not – dress how you want," he said, frustrated. "It's not your fault if I can't – if I'm – that's my fault." That would be even worse, wouldn't it, if Veronica started showing up to class in baggy sweaters and loose jeans like he was a wild animal that couldn't be trusted with the sight of bare skin.

    Michael only barely kept from recoiling at her fury. "I never said I didn't – that's not what I'm apologizing for. I'm not sorry about… that." His eyes went to the floor, then traveled to his desk. He moved to grab his own bag, throwing it over his head so the strap fell across his chest. His head was starting to throb at his temples, his skin felt like it was too tight, he was a bundle of raw nerves and he should have noticed sooner that he wasn't acting like himself. No patience, no self-control. It was a constant balancing act, feeding enough but not too much, always on the brink of going completely insane. Apparently, today, he'd fucked up.

    "This is… we should talk about this later." His grip tightened on the strap of his bag, white-knuckled. "I need to – I'm sorry. I need to go home and eat before I – I need to go. I don't have class tonight if you want to… you could at least email me that paper. I… I really did want to… read that." He moved toward the door, and if he didn't run it was only because he wanted to hold onto some kind of semblance of maturity.



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - megs - 07-05-2015

    A brow perked as he told her to wear what she wanted. He was refusing to place any of the blame on her, and that only frustrated her more. Which she had previously thought was impossible. Comparatively, her outfit today could have been considered mild. His statement hadn't been a challenge, but if he was going to treat her like a child now, she would be petty like one. 

    Veronica needed to calm down and she knew it. If she let herself get any more emotional these gravitational disturbances would do a bit more than make her hair look like it was filled with static. He had not perfectly clarified the meaning of his apology, but he had quelled her main concerned. It helped, if only the smallest amount, but it was better nothing and her feet were once again planted firmly on the ground. 

    She watched him gather his things, dark eyes following his movements - rushed and desperate. She wasn't oblivious to the way he was clutching to the strap, and her face softened when he revealed that he needed to eat. She wasn't some vampire obsessed ingénue that was going to offer herself to him, and his feeding was bigger than this one. She dropped her coffee in the trash and clawed bangs away from her face with her freed hand.

    She wasn't entirely sure what he had just attempted to suggest. That she should go see him, later? When he'd been trying so damn hard to push her away. 

    "What's left to talk about?" She mused, instead of asking any of her compounding questions. It was in her favor to just give him an out, and never have to go through this again. "I think you've made yourself pretty clear."

    He had not, at all, but it wasn't worth risking what would happen if he didn’t eat to keep harassing him about it. She followed behind him to the door, without a confirmation on whether or not she would even send that email. She just wanted to go home, and sulk. Maybe she'd even go the old fashioned way and invest in a pint of ice cream and a really bad movie. 



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-05-2015

    "I don't want to leave it like this," he said, still walking. He dug through his bag as he moved until he found his gloves. "I don't think I've been clear," he muttered as he pulled them on. "I want you to understand." He didn't know how she could, when even he didn't. It would make more sense when he'd eaten, when he'd slept. It had to. When he'd had some time to think about exactly what it was he wanted, except that he didn't want her to be angry with him and he didn't want her to leave. Except that he did want her to leave. Except, he didn't.

    He wanted to go to sleep and wake up in about five years, was what he wanted.

    So much for being older and wiser.

    He made his way through the halls toward the stairwell to the back exit. "It's fine if you don't want to," he said, putting on a newsboy cap and draping a heavy scarf over his shoulders. "I would just like it if you… I said a lot of things I shouldn't have." He slipped on his sunglasses as he went up the stairs, and wrapped the scarf around his face enough that when he opened the door, he was not immediately burned by the morning sun.

    There was a reason not many vampires lived in Las Ballenas. His drive to and from work made him look like the invisible man.

    "I don't actually think you're a slut," he mumbled petulantly, muffled by his scarf. He didn't even think she'd be able to hear him. He glowered at the sun as he headed toward the red Thunderbird sitting lonely in the teacher's lot, walking faster to get out of the sunlight as soon as he was able. This would all be a lot easier if he could actually turn into a bat. Maybe a crow, that would be less conspicuous. Save a fortune on gas, too.



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - megs - 07-05-2015

    "I understand," she defends, voice pitching high again. She had never been very skilled at keeping her emotions subtle. Still following behind him because there were only so many ways out from the basement, she clearly wasn't planning on going to her other classes. 

    She had been hearing everything he'd been saying, the only problem was he'd not been say what he meant. 

    "I will think about it," she conceded, squinting against the daylight pouring in from the open door. She did not sound enthusiastic. Arms full, she made her way, carefully, up the steps and let the heavy door swing closed behind her. Had she not been stuck in the basement, she would have noticed how hot it was on the surface. Her skin already prickled with heat and sweat and she at the very least wanted to be in her car with the AC on blast. 

    "What?" She had not been able to decipher what he had said from behind the scarf. He walked to his car instead of elaborating, and she wondered if he had done it on purpose. Veronica preferred to have the last word, debates in class had proven that more than once, and this time she hadn't gotten it. Perhaps, this was his way of ensuring that she would go see him. That she would go listen to more reasons why they wouldn't work, but this time they would be even more carefully laid out, because he would have had time to think about it. 

    She glared daggers in the direction of his car, but not at the actual car because she loved it to pieces and was very jealous. Just the bundled vampire sitting inside it. Shrugging her bag higher on her shoulder, she turned and walked to the student parking garage, heavy boots loud in her ears. 

    Melanie was gone when Veronica finally got home. Which was good. Veronica wanted to mope openly and her roommate wouldn't let her do so without wanting to play Twenty Questions about it. She left the papers on the kitchen counter and then dropped everything else in a pile.

    One long, hot shower later, Veronica flopped face first onto her bed, burying her face in the cool fabric of her pillow. She fumbled around in tangled sheets for her laptop, and when she found it she rolled onto her side to prop it open. 

    She attached her essay to an email for Michael Bell, the subject was the title of the paper, and the body of the message was just her phone number. She still didn't know if she wanted to see him, but he probably did not want to say whatever he had to say through his school email account. 



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-05-2015

    The drive home seemed to take forever. His apartment was pitch black, blackout shades on every window, and he tossed aside his various protective accessories in irritation. They were all left in a pile in a chair he never used, on top of school paperwork and junk mail. He went straight to the fridge, pulling out a blood bag and sinking his teeth directly into it.

    His relief was practically immediate. He sank to the floor, sitting on the tile with his back against the cupboard as he sucked it dry. It was always better to err on the side of too little rather than too much, but it was still obnoxious as hell when it happened. And this was the first time he'd done something this stupid. Bad reaction to a dopamine shortage and the presence of an attractive woman.

    He'd feel better after sleeping. Less like his life had taken a sudden and unexpected downward spiral. He tossed out the empty blood bag, stripped and discarded his clothing on the floor as he climbed into the shower. He still smelled like sex. He still smelled like her. He liked it and hated it all at once. He liked it better when the smell was on her, when she was on him. He'd fed, but he wanted more. He wanted hers. He growled in irritation as he scrubbed hard at his skin.

    Everything would level out after he slept.

    He lay in bed for a while, unable to sleep, slightly buzzed still from feeding. Maybe he really should find porn? Maybe that would help. Maybe that would keep him away from real women. Except that he didn't actually like the majority of porn they made these days. All unpleasant violence and painful positions and closeups on genitals. He liked it better when they'd been… cute. Cute smiles and pretty poses.

    God, he really was old.

    Eventually, after a great deal of trial and error and horrifying results, he figured out that the keywords he was looking for were 'alt pinup'. That didn't help, though, when he just kept imagining what the might look like with green hair. What Veronica might look like if she posed like that.

    Problem: not remotely solved.

    Michael set aside his phone, disconsolate, and hoped that he'd wake to find things better.

    He… sort of did. The anxiety was gone, anyway. It all felt very distant, like something he'd imagined more than a real thing that happened. He yawned, padding out of his bedroom in his boxers to find his laptop. He threw on a Freddie and the Hitchhikers album before sinking into his couch, resting the laptop on his knee to check his email.

    Oh. Good. She'd sent the essay. As well as her number. He set the essay to print, then set aside his laptop, finding a pen to make notes while he read it over breakfast.

    Not a real breakfast. Just coconut water. But it kind of made him feel better, anyway.

    When he'd finished both he scanned it back in to a PDF to email back to her, because he was 58 and what the hell did anyone expect. Of course he was the guy who printed things out, scanned them, and sent them in an improperly formatted PDF with all the pages upside-down. At least his handwriting was legible. Mostly notes on additional citations and various CYA disclaimers she'd missed before extrapolations. He'd used, as always, a pink highlighter on passages he particularly liked. Not everyone was aware of the pink highlighter, because not many people wrote things he particularly liked. Otherwise he likely would have gotten significantly more shit about the hot pink highlighter.

    He put on pants before he called her, because his phone had a camera and he was deeply paranoid about accidentally sending someone a picture of his dick. Phones were confusing. Mistakes could be made. He recalled at the last minute that he probably ought to turn off his record player, because otherwise that might be… awkward. More awkward than this whole affair already was.



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - megs - 07-05-2015

    Veronica spent the rest of her afternoon pouting. And floating. She drifted around the house, weightless and listless. Like you'd see in videos of astronauts in zero gravity. Hair all over the place, looking positively forlorn. She felt stupid, and her feelings were hurt. What had she honestly expected, though? All in all things had really turned out better than they could have, and she tried to take consolation in that, but she couldn't. 

    She pushed herself into the kitchen, gently bouncing off walls because she felt like she deserved to pretend to be as out of control as she was behaving. She picked up the remnants of a mug of tea she had made early and promptly un-ended in front of her. Instead of spilling to the floor, like one would expect, it hung suspended in her little bubble of fucked up gravity, and she poked at it. She liked watching the way it wobbled and split when she ran her finger through it. 

    It reminded her of being a kid and learning about her powers, and that gave her the smallest modicum of comfort. Because things couldn't be all bad, right? She could fly and control gravity for fuck's sake.

    She was reaching. She wanted to feel better, so she attempted to place her sorrows else where. 

    She tried to find spaces in her mind that weren't filled with Michael's baby blue eyes, and his voice growling in her ear. 

    Using the cup, Veronica scooped up the tea that she wasn't going to drink, and when she set it back on the counter the gravity of it went back to normal. 

    When she returned to her room, her laptop was cheerfully telling her that she had a new email. Putting her feet back on the ground, she walked over to the bed and logged in to see what it was. A PDF from Professor Bell that she was going to wait until she got back to campus to print out. Mostly, because she didn't care what he had to say about her work, right now, and simultaneously because she didn't want to go through the effort of turning it right side up. 

    She was checking her social media when her phone went off. Finding it tucked under her pillow, she frowned because she didn't recognize the number and that could only mean one thing. 

    She cleared her throat, before pressing the answer button because she refused to let him hear that she was still upset. "Hello?" she chimed, doing her best to not to sound as dejected as she felt. 



Teacher's Pet [Closed] - Tindome - 07-05-2015

    Veronica sounded more like her usual self. That was good, right? "Miss Whitmore," he said automatically. "This is Professor Bell."

    No shit, jackass.

    "I don't know if you got my email. I only had a few suggestions. It isn't urgent, obviously." He paced into the kitchen, rested his elbows on the counter.

    "I don't think I explained myself very well, previously. I made a… dietary miscalculation. Which is not to minimize anything, I just want to clarify. My self-control was impaired, and I did things – said things that I shouldn't have. Not untrue, necessarily. Except the… slut… thing. I don't actually think you're a slut." Or was it good to be a slut now? He honestly couldn't remember. This didn't exactly come up often. "I don't know why I said that. I apologize for that, specifically, in particular. And if I lead you to believe that it was your fault, in any way, for looking like… yourself. I don't want you to feel unsafe in my classroom." Or anywhere, for that matter.

    He sighed. "Obviously this is not something I can fix. If you could help me understand how I upset you, I would like to fix that. If I can."

    What a shitty way to say he wanted her to be happy again.