Surrender (JackSepticEye x Reader)

Six

I don't trust him.

You lay awake in bed that night, the house empty as usual. Frowning slightly, the events from the past two days were wearing you down, yet sleep evaded you. You tossed and turned over countless times, wanting to cry from exhaustion but unable to conjure up a single tear.

What if this is what he wants? What if he's purposely doing all these things to pick on me and see how far he can push me?

But what happens when I break?

You did sort of break already, once before, when you were in his office. You had cried hard, and it had brought a sense of relief, if only  momentarily. Even if that in and of itself had seemed to trigger something inside of him.

That ring he wears... for some reason I can't get it out of my head. But why? It's just a fucking ring. Big deal. People say that it stands for something, but what could it be?

Knowing that you would be unable to sleep for quite some time, you sat up and grabbed your phone, intent on doing a little research. It didn't take long to figure out what the ring meant, not really.

The Ring of O... people in Europe especially wear it as a sign of BDSM.

BDSM?! That fucking quiz! That goddamn question he gave me, was he hinting at it all along?!

You swallowed hard as you continued to read. Apparently, based on which hand the ring was worn on, it signified whether the person was dominant or submissive.

And it's on his right hand...

Which means he... he's...

~☆~

"Didn't sleep again, huh?" Steph frowned a good deal as the two of you walked to class together. "You've got bags under your eyes, what's been on your mind?"

Our dear Professor McLoughlin.

You smiled a little bit at her, and she seemed to relax. "It just happens sometimes, Steph. Don't worry so much about me, worry about yourself. Okay?"

This seemed to satiate her curiosity, as she fell quiet for the rest of the walk. But as you slid into the desk, your heart began to pound. You didn't want to be there. Not that you knew what the professor's damned ring meant.

But why should that bother me? He's my professor, not my lover or some bullshit. I feel bad for the next girl he tries to put the moves on.

"All right, everyone settle the fuck down." That brought all of the chattering to a standstill. It wasn't often that people heard a teacher swearing, and certainly not an f-bomb. Seán frowned as he looked everyone over. "Hand in the work that I passed out yesterday. Assuming you did it at all."

Man, he is in a piss poor mood--

SHIT! THE FUCKING WORK! HE NEVER GAVE IT TO ME!

You sat rigid in your chair as everyone else got up to hand in the homework. The professor, of course, noticed this and raised an eyebrow. "I was wondering if you would come to my office and obtain the work yesterday, but you never showed."

"Sir, I'm sorry, I--"

"I don't want to hear your fucking excuses." There was a soft murmur going around the class, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Steph turning pink out of secondhand embarrassment. "You're getting a zero for this. You know homework is twenty-five percent of your grade."

Your face burned, your eyes stung with tears, and your lower lip began to tremble. "Sir, I just--"

"I've shown you infinite patience, haven't I? No one else got to make up their quiz. And now you can't even be bothered to grab homework from me after your classes." The professor shook his head, removing his glasses and rubbing the space between his eyes. "If I could give you detention, I would. But seeing as how we are in a university and not high school, it seems I cannot do that." His baby blue eyes flashed dangerously at you, and your breath caught in your throat. "I'll see you in my office today. I will see you. You won't forget this time." He shoved the collected homework onto his desk before turning away towards the chalkboard to write. "Who can define the word sex?"

You didn't need the answer, nor did you bother to pay attention to that lesson. It may have been new and probably vital information, possibly for a new quiz, but you were too humiliated to give a shit. You buried your face into your arms on the desk, sobbing as silently as you possibly could so as not to disturb the lesson and anger Seán any further.

You squirmed in your seat, burdened with the knowledge of what that ring on his hand really meant. Was that what he was like with his lover? How awful for them! He was so strict and demeaning!

He's picking on me. I'm sure of it. He's doing this intentionally, but why? Why?! What did I do to deserve this?!

You weren't sure what you had done, you just knew that he was picking on you on purpose. To embarrass you in front of the whole class as though you were two years old! You were a fucking adult woman!

Anger began to take over, and you sat up straight in your seat, taking notes with a vengeance. You would have some choice words for Professor McLoughlin after your last class.