lazykittysmile - Tumblr blog

lazykittysmile · 8 months ago

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Hazy Melodies

Pairing: Professor! Hongjoong x stoner student fem!reader

Genre: strangers2lover au; smut MDNI, wee bit angst, crack

Warnings: drug use, sexual content

Word Count: 7.7k

Synoposis: Hongjoong finds himself drawn to a student who seems to have her own demons. Will she let him in or just use him as another coping method?

A/N: *Taps mic* H-Hello. This has been in the vault for a hot minute (a couple of months). Yk, how it goes. I'm planning on making this into a trilogy, so please let me know what you think.

Credits: I wanna thank @hobeemin for making the fire banner and dividers. 😊

As always, feedback is very much welcome, and reblogs are appreciated. 💛🤎🐝

Smut tags below the cut, I left out some tags because I didn't wanna spoil some stuff. Forgive me 😭🫰🏽

Smut warnings: soft dom!joong, sub!reader, dry humping, fingering, unprotected sexual intercourse (I ain't yo mamma), creampie

‘Follow your dreams’ they said. ‘It’s fun!’ they said. No, it wasn’t.

All you wanted to do was make music, but instead, you were doing research and writing reports on a bunch of things that had nothing to do with music. Okay, it did a little, like where it originated and how it developed and came to be all the different genres - but that’s beside the point. That stuff was supposed to develop an appreciation for music in aspiring musicians and artists. But you didn’t need that. Because you already had all that in you.

Music was more than just, notes on a paper or words in a song. It was the air that you breathed, the blood in your veins. It's the very thing that kept your heart pumping. Or at least, it was.

So again, sitting in this lecture hall, twice every week, with a grumpy old professor going on about how the best musical era has passed and today’s music had no meaning- it was in every sense of the word, demotivating. “Alright, that’s it for today. I’ll see you next week.” Mr… whatever his name was dismissed the lecture, and you couldn’t have been more relieved.

It’s a cold, early Saturday morning when you knock on San and Wooyoung’s apartment door. Six-thirty to be exact causing your breath to fog with each exhale. The door opens and a sleepy Wooyoung is staring down at you like you’ve lost your damn mind.

“Have you lost your damn mind?”

“Top of the morning to ya!” You greet cheekily, shouldering past him and going inside to make yourself comfortable on their sofa.

“It’s ass o’clock. Why are you like this?” The sleepy man asks as he shuffles over to the kitchen and adds a new filter to the coffee pot before turning it on.

“I-”

“G’morning, Kitty. I got your order right here.” San enters the living room in only his sweatpants and a tank top that’s most definitely two sizes too small but hey, you weren’t complaining. He stands behind the couch where you’re sitting and hovers a gift bag over your head. You reach for it but he pulls it out of your reach making you frown up at him.

“Sannie, come on.”

“We have a deal, Kitty. Put the claws away.” He taunts with a smirk when he sees you getting ready to pounce with you sitting upright on your knees. You sigh, pulling out the small roll of bills you kept in your bra for him. He holds his palm out and you push the roll into his hand and he smiles triumphantly, dimples and all. “Here you go.”

You immediately dig through the gift bag and find not only your fix but a little something extra. “San, I-I don’t- I only gave you enough for my regular.” you look at him confused.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”

“Nuh uh. These things come with strings and I don’t have a bondage kink. No sir.” You shake your head getting ready to shove the bag back into his hands but he places his hands on your shoulders and looks you in the eye.

“Shush, Kitty. This is me saying thank you for being so loyal and being my friend for so long. You’ve never asked for any favours or missed a payment-”

“That’s ‘cause I pay up front, Sannie.” You cut in, just as Wooyoung hands the two of each a mug of coffee before heading back for his own. San rounds the couch and sits down next to you and smiles at you genuinely. “Look, I just want you to know I got you.”

“Well, thank you. I got you too.”

Back in your dorm room, you were seated by your desk with your leg propped up as you diligently rolled some of the stock you got from San. Meanwhile your roommate, Carla, was pacing your room going on about her latest sexcapade.

“I ain’t even playing, girl. This dude’s dick was so big. But he ain’t even know what to do with it.” She started to whine at the memory. Plopping herself down onto your bed and staring at the ceiling.

“Carla?” You amusedly interrupt.

“Yeah.”

“Why do you keep fucking around with these college boys? I mean, they literally don’t know jack about anything.”

“They know how to party. That’s why.” She leans up on her elbows to get a good look at you in your cropped band tee and lounge shorts.

“Oh, so to get wasted?” You cock a brow at her with a menacing smirk.

“Yes! Wait, no. I mean- Listen” You chuckle at her ramble. “I just wanna have a good time. Enjoy my youth or whatever.”

You’ve known Carla since freshman year. A spicy girl with Latin roots coming from a prestigious family of doctors, lawyers, and accountants. So, when she broke the news to her parents that she wanted to change her major from science to dance, you were there for her when they said that they wouldn’t foot the bill for her to ‘become a stripper’. She told you all of this when you bumped into each other at a party and bonded over some edibles while watching people make fools of themselves. She loves to dance, and she’s damn talented, hence why she’s now a dance major. Come second semester, when you ended up as roommates and joined by the hip ever since.

“I get that, Mami. Here. Enjoy your youth.” You stand up and hand her the freshly rolled blunt. “Or whatever.”

She sits up and takes the blunt from your fingers, “You’re so good to me.” clutching it close to her chest as she pouts up at you with her big brown eyes, making you smile. She gets up and lands a peck your lips for good measure before she leaves to go have a solo party in her room, closing the door behind her.

A male you’ve never seen before, clad in a suit with no tie, walks up to the desk, and starts sifting through his briefcase. Without looking up, he speaks loudly, “All right. If everyone can settle down.” Who the hell? “Mr. Anderson has taken early retirement and is now in the Bahamas with his wife.” Well, that makes sense. “I will be taking over for the rest of the year. And well, we’ll see what happens after that.”

“Monday. Musical theory. Yay!” You mumble to yourself sarcastically as you make your way to the lecture hall. As usual, you find your seat in the third row, and it’s only once you are seated that you notice Mr… - Gosh, you really needed to remember his name one of these days. Anyway, your lecturer wasn’t there yet. He was nothing if not punctual, so he not being behind his desk was a little unnerving.

He finally looks up, and you swear the world stops spinning. Dark-haired, gorgeousness with the prettiest face you’ve ever laid eyes on is your new professor?

“I’m Kim Hongjoong. But you all can call me Mr. Kim.” He sends a smile that reaches his eyes and you think you might have smoked too much before coming to class because you swear it’s brighter than the sun.

A few minutes pass by of him talking, and you’re just staring at him dreamily. Tracing every detail that you can from the side parted slicked back hair to the perfectly sculpted bone structure of his small face. Oh, how you wish you could trace them with your fingers. So caught up it the way his lips move with every word that you don’t hear when he calls out your name on the register to make sure he’s got all his students. Your seat neighbour nudges your leg with his, and you come back your senses.

“Say 'present'.” He whispers hastily. And you shoot your hand up.

“Present, sir!” You speak loudly and when his gaze locks onto your breath hitches.

“Was I not reading it correctly, miss?” He asks with curious brow, clearly unimpressed.

You shake your head, “N-No you were. I was just, uh, distracted. Sorry.” You trail off towards the end.

“I see. Well, meet me after class.” He continues down the list and you internally slap yourself for getting on this fine man’s bad side, well, not that he had one visibly, but still.

“So, you want to tell me what was distracting you during class?” Mr. Kim perches himself up on the corner of his desk and folds his hands in his lap. Stood in front of him with a hand on your opposite arm, with a sheepish look on your face.

“I have a short attention span.” You lie quietly.

“Is that so?” He inquires.

Nodding with your lips pressed in thin line, “Yes, sir.” Silence.

Hongjoong examines you, subtly taking in your appearance. The way your jeans sat perfectly on your lower body and the chunky jacket you wore hid what the upper half of your body looked like. He also took note of your heavy eyelids fighting to keep open and the way you swallowed thickly.

“Hmm, so then you aren’t in fact high off your ass at-” he checks his wrist watch, “half past eight in the morning?” Stray strands of hair fall to his forehead as he dips his head to meet your gaze that seemed to be fixated on his shoes, snapping your attention back on him.

“I- uhm- It’s for my anxiety.” The way you spoke was as if it were a question more so than an answer, making your new professor let out an amused chuckle at your cheekiness.

“Anxiety huh?” He raises his eyebrows with a shadow of a grin.

“Yup, I am very anxious.” You nod once. Hongjoong stands, hands in his pockets and it becomes increasingly aware to you that he is right in front you in all his gorgeousness and you can’t help but whimper when he takes a step closer to you, basically crowding your space.

The man is nothing if not observant. He noticed the way you were eye fucking him when you were ‘distracted’. Saying he was flattered would be an understatement because, in all honesty, he found you extremely alluring. And now he had you in the palm of his hand, with the way you made no move to create distance when he inched closer. The way you not so subtly pressed your thighs together at the proximity. The way your hazy gaze fought to stay on his eyes and not on his lips or even lower to the soft print in his slacks. Your breath hitches when he’s a hair away from you and his scent clouds all your sense, harder than any fix. Not once has he taken his eyes off of yours. And he could tell you were completely gone when he leaned his face towards yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation.

Letting out a light huff of laughter at your eagerness, he pulled away and went back around the desk to sit down. You felt winded from the stunt he pulled, granted you were silly enough to follow his every move. But still. With an unsanctioned pout, you glared over at him, making him smirk menacingly as he leaned back. He couldn’t help but tease you. You hung on to his every action like a good little girl. But he couldn’t give in on the first day, no matter how bad he would love to bend you over the desk and ruin you.

With a clear of his throat, Hongjoong breaks the tense stare off, “You should probably head out to your next class, little girl.”

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a stuttered response, you move towards the door, halting when he calls your name, “Come sober next time.” With a wink, he busies himself with papers, and you leave.

“That is just foul.”

“Right?!” You agreed with Carla after your rant about what happened during your M.T. class. The both of you only had a few classes today, so you went home early. Now sat on your shared sofa of your dorm room and ate the tamales that she made for lunch.

“Why get that close just to not kiss you?” She asks.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.” You pause, “He is so fine though, I don’t even mind the teasing.”

“Down bad.” Carla laughs, shoving your thigh with her socked foot.

“Guilty.” You laugh along with her and sigh dreamily, recalling the interaction with the gorgeous man. You couldn’t help but go over what he said last. ‘Come sober next time.’ “Do you think if I were sober then-”

“Would he have gone through with it?” You nod at your roommates’ conclusion. “I think so. I mean, he’s obviously older and more mature. So he probably didn’t want to take advantage of your inability to make smart choices.”

Of course. That actually made perfect sense. It was his first day after all, he couldn’t have his non-existent reputation be tainted before he even got to prove himself.

“You’re right. Fuck, and I fucking pouted at him when he stepped away. Like a stupid girl.” You groaned, making Carla chuckle.

“Hey, at least you’ll be his little girl.” You threw her a dirty look that morphed into one of interest, and she threw her head back in disbelief. “You are so far gone, and it’s only day one.”

Hongjoong had so much work, and it was only the fourth day. Mr. Anderson seemed to have been very generous with theory assignments on history and not actual theory of music like writing and producing. He decided that he would just scrap all that and come up with a new lesson plan for the semester.

While he did that, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to you. Was it his plan to be attracted to a student? No. Was he going to shut it down? Probably not. He wasn’t that much older than you, which that much he knew, after going through the registry. However his position as the professor made it a dangerous game to play, but he was prepared to risk it all for you. The little girl that caught his attention the moment he read your name and he locked on your figure. He couldn’t wait to get to know you beyond the surface. Of course, he had no intention of doing something with you when you couldn’t think clearly and possibly would regret it later. He wanted you to want him with a clear mind and it was proving difficult. Because the next time he runs into you, it’s in the dean’s office.

“Ah, Mr. Kim, come in.” Mr. Martin invited the new professor to take a seat next to you across his desk. “Our little miss trouble over here was kicked out of M.T several times by Mr. Anderson, for being under the influence and not paying attention.” He pauses when you scoff and look off to the side. Earning yourself a side glance from Mr. Kim. “I wanted to check in with you and find out your honest first impression.”

Hongjoong had less than five seconds to decide whether he would be truthful and spill that you were in fact under the influence in his class or whether to bend the truth and gain your trust in him.

From your body language though, lax and closed off, he could tell you weren’t bothered with the situation which could mean it wasn’t the first time being called to the dean’s office to be reprimanded. Hongjoong didn’t know anything about you beyond the fact that you were a music major, smoked, and maybe, possibly had a thing for him.

“She actually didn’t participate much during class, though there wasn’t much need to. I was just trying to familiarize myself with the students and the amount of work they’ve managed to go through with their previous professor.” Your new professor spoke with ease.

“Really? She didn’t act out or sleep through it?” Mr. Martin pressed.

“Not once. She sat quietly I almost didn’t realize it was her when I walked in before.” Hongjoong spun.

“No snarky comments under her breath or dramatic sighs? Really? Nothing?” It was clear that Mr. Martin had an axe to grind with you, and it seemed that it was a regular occurrence considering you didn’t bother fighting back and just stared at the floor.

“I have nothing to say other than that she was quiet, Mr. Martin.” Hongjoong nods firmly, cutting off room for further inquiry.

The dean sits back in his chair, “Huh, alright then. Well, if she does act up or anything, do not hesitate to send her my way.”

You mumble under your breath, “Oh you’d just love that wouldn’t you.” Making a move to grab your bag from the floor.

“This is what I’m talking about. You see what I have to deal with?” Mr. Martin directs his hand to you, palm up.

“I’m sure she has a class to attend, so why don’t we just let it go for now, dean. I’ll keep an eye on her.” Hongjoong stands and gestures for you to follow him.

“Fine. She’s your problem now, Kim.”

“Yes, sir.” Another firm nod from your professor as he guides you to walk out ahead of him. With a swift spin, he stops you both, stopping in front of his door, facing you. He had students waiting inside so he couldn’t take too long. “Are you alright?”

The softness in his voice is something new to you, you were expecting an earful or a scolding after that shit show. You nod meekly, “Yeah. Nothing new.” Shrugging and looking away.

You confirm his suspicions about it being a regular occurrence and he is tempted to put a hand on your shoulder to comfort you but the halls weren’t empty. Anyone could interpret his gesture as suspicious. “You didn’t need to lie for me like that.” You speak up, voice small with a twinge of slur.

This makes him furrow his brows in confusion, “I didn’t lie.” You met his eyes at that. “You were quiet the entire class. Didn’t act up or cause any problem.”

“Yeah but, I-”

“It’s for your anxiety. He doesn’t need to know about something that’s medical.” He gives you a small knowing smile. “I assume you had a dose earlier today?” He nods referring to your current state.

You felt like a deer caught in headlights, but smile back. “I had a small one, yeah. An edible.” You mumble the latter part to which he nods in understanding.

“Well then, you should head to your next class. I’ll see you on Monday. Okay, little girl?” He dipped his face lower to make sure he had your attention.

All you could do was nod. The use of that nickname for the second time had you biting your lip, your heart doing flips and your mind in a daze. And with that, he entered his classroom and you willed your legs to take you to your next.

It was frustrating, to say the least. What others would consider to be a mundane task of any young adult, you considered rocket science. Then again, you were smoked out.

“Why the hell are there so many different types of milk?”

Standing in the dairy section, a sticky note with a list of things to top up on and a dead phone was not your best moment. Carla wrote the list so you could run out and grab them on your way back from San’s. She wasn’t feeling well due to Mother Nature, and you were nothing if not a caring roommate. Unfortunately, she wasn’t specific on her list, and now you’ve been standing there for over fifteen minutes trying to figure out what to get. You desperately needed to call her, but –

Someone calling your last name in a very familiar voice halted your train of thought. Not that it was going anywhere, anyway.

“Is that you?”

You turned slowly, only to be met with the very gorgeous sight of your new professor. Dressed down from his usual suit and slick back hair combo, in a pair of dark baggy jeans and a light hoodie that made him look oh so cosy.

“Yeah. Needed to top up on a few stuff.” He nods. Noticing you stood with muesli and a single pack of pocky sticks in one arm and the sticky note in the other hand.

“H-Hi, sir.” You internally cursed at yourself for stuttering a two worded sentence, looking back down. It’s then that you notice the basket in his left hand and a few items of his own. “Light shopping?” You ask as you lift your gaze back up to meet his. Hongjoong wiggles the basket in his hold,

“You?” Humming in confusion, you tilt your head at him like a puppy and he can’t stop the smile that teases the corners of his lips. “You doing some shopping, too?” You blink once, twice and then a sheepish grin stretches your lips when you understand.

You nod, “Yeah.” You let out airily. Hongjoong observes as you scan the milk cartons and deciphers that you are once again, not sober. It was a little concerning. He wanted to ask and understand why you used and if you were really okay. Were you serious about having anxiety? Or was it something different but just as effective? He knew he couldn’t pry so soon, so instead, he grabbed his own milk, and he realized you still haven’t made a decision.

“Can’t pick?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah.” Can you say anything beyond ‘yeah’? You sound like a dunce. “Uhm, my roommate, wrote this list but she – she didn’t specify. And I don’t know what to get but if I get the wrong one she’ll chew me out.” You surprise yourself with your ability to explain.

He nods along even though you don’t look at him. “Why don’t you call her?” he asks, but not at all condescending, just offering a suggestion.

…

“I would, but my phone died.” You pout and find yourself swaying a bit from the haze. Hongjoong surprises you when he fishes his phone out of his pocket and unlocks it before handing you the device. The dialling pad on screen and a reassuring nod sent your way when you looked up at him with wide eyes.

At that moment, you thanked your roommate for drilling her phone number into your memory because now you could recite it with ease even in your current state. She picks up after the fourth ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, mami. It’s me..”

“Oh, hey. You okay? Who’s number is this?”

“Yeah, yeah. Uhm, what type of milk should I get?”

…

“Almond, please.”

“Almond. Got it.”

…

“Thanks again, love you.”

“Love you too, Mami. Bye.”

Hongjoong didn’t exactly mean to listen in, but you were asking about milk, so it couldn’t have been that bad. But when he heard you speak so softly and comfortably, he felt something inside him warm and yearn for you to feel that same comfort with him.

You return your professors phone with an accomplished smile and thank him. The feeling of his fingers lightly grazing your own sends a shudder through you. Shaking it off, you move to grab the milk, but your fingers halt when you don’t recall what Carla had said.

Hongjoong notices and furrows his brows for a quick second, “Almond.”

You whisper out a small, “Thanks.” And grab the carton. You go to add it to your arm full, but stop when he speaks up.

“Wanna share my basket?” He has a stupidly cute glint in his eyes as he stretches it out towards you. Your delusional mind paints a domestic picture in your mind, and you give in. Gently placing down your items one by one. “Alright, where to next?” He asks, nodding towards your list, and you stare at it with scrutiny. You hand him the list when he shows his palm to you and goes over it, silently checking off the items you put in and what’s left. “Pocky wasn’t on the list.” He teases.

You shrug, “It’s a craving.”

“Alright, let’s get the rest of your items then.” The two of you walk in between different aisles and sections, with you trailing next to your professor. He makes small talk about the different products and chuckles when you snap your gaze away from his hands or lips a few times too many.

Once your list is complete, Hongjoong leads the way to the cashier and starts to place all the items on the counter. You’re distracted by a pretty sparkly lighter that calls out to you. You reach for it and pull out your wallet, but by the time you go to pay for your items, your professor is already pulling out his card from his wallet. “You want that one?” He asks with his brows slightly lifted.

“How much do I owe you?” You don’t answer. He just smirks, softly tugging the lighter from your fingers and putting it on the counter.

“This as well, thanks.” He hands the cashier his card.

“I could’ve paid for my own stuff, y’know.” You grumble and cross your arms, tucking your chin into the collar or your jacket. He chuckles, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger to get you to look at him,

“I know. But just let me do this for you, little girl.”

Ding! Ding! Ding!

Third times a charm. You were officially whipped.

He takes his card and puts it back in its place before separately packing your groceries. He hands you your bag with a smug look on his face and laughs softly when you take it from him with an attitude. “How’re you getting home?” He asks once you’ve exited the store.

“Walking?”

Hongjoong tuts, shaking his head softly. “Come on, I’ll drive you.” He reaches for your free hand, and you stare at it for a beat, looking back up at him in question. He simply nods with a soft smile, and you feel your face warm as you take hold of his larger hand.

Like a pure gentleman, the passenger door is opened for you, and your bag is taken from your hand so that you can seat yourself inside, and he gently closes the door. He places both your groceries in the back seat before he rounds to the driver’s side. He looks over at you once he’s inside, checking his mirrors, and then his gaze lands on your figure. You look back at him with heavy lids, the haze working through your system. He simply holds your gaze, slowly blinking as he slowly inches over the centre console, leaning his body over your own to where his face is right above yours the same way it was on the first day.

This time however, you don’t slip up and close your eyes, instead you keep them fixed on his face. Your heart was racing so fast it almost felt like it wasn’t beating at all. He was so close you could feel his breath on your lips, count his ridiculously long lashes and smell the coffee he probably had this morning. When his arm reaches over your body, you think you might combust. You hear the tug and feel the harsh fabric of the seatbelt being strapped across your chest and then you hear the click of the buckle. Hongjoong smirks, seemingly impressed by you holding it together. (barely). “Safety first.”

He’s back in his seat and buckling himself up before turning the ignition and driving off. He had asked what block you lived at on the campus and with a quiet voice you told him. Your professor wasn’t stupid. He could sense that you were annoyed by his teasing once again. That little pout made itself present just like back then, and all he wanted to do was wipe it off with his own.

Hongjoong would do nothing with you while you were intoxicated. He didn’t care if it was as little as half an edible. He needed you to be in a clear headspace with clear thoughts and actions. He wanted to make sure you wanted him truly, not just because you thought it would be exciting or something. But still, he wanted to take his time with you, make sure you weren’t just acting on induced impulse. When he pulled up to your apartment building, you were barely aware of your surroundings.

Gosh, what does San put in his baggies?

Hongjoong thought it best to call your roommate to come down and help. So he dialled the number that you called.

“Please tell me you’re almost here.?” Carla questions when she realizes she recognised the unknown number.

“Hi. This is … Mr. Kim. Your roommate’s professor.” He wasn’t really sure how to introduce himself and explain the situation without sounding like he was announcing a hostage.

“For what class? I don’t know a Mr. Kim.”

“Music Theory. I took over for Anderson.” Aahh, Carla thought, the new hot professor that kept teasing you.

“How can I help?”

“I ran into her at the store, she seems uh, out of it.” He hears Carla sigh and grunt in disbelief, understanding exactly what he meant.

“Can she walk?”

“She can barely talk, if I’m being honest.” Hongjoong says while glancing over you. You still haven’t realised you were home.

“I’d come down to get her but I’m sick. Do you mind helping her up? Third floor, room number fourteen. Please?” Carla knew she was taking a risk by asking that, but she really wasn’t in any condition to go down and carry your weight and the groceries.

“Of course. We’ll be right up.” Hongjoong also knew how this could look. But at the end of the day, you being safe and indoors was all he cared about.

You woke up later that evening to find yourself in your room. How you had gotten there? No clue. Instead of worrying about trying to remember, you head downstairs for a late night meal. Carla was asleep in her room so you were as quiet as possible. As you poured the almond milk into a glass to have with your Nutella toast, you couldn’t help this nagging feeling at the back of your mind. You had felt so out of body today that you’re not even sure you’re awake right now, but you shrug it off and eat up.

You contemplate taking a hit for some more sleep but decide against it if you were going to have a clear mind tomorrow. And as you hit the bed again, you feel a smile subconsciously make its way to your lips as you think. Monday morning Music Theory. Yay.

Late. You were late, but you got there in the middle of roll call. “Ah, so nice of you to join us. Please take your seat.” Mr. Kim pays no more attention to you as you take your seat and shift uncomfortably. “Now, I’d like for you to pair up and pick a genre. Don’t worry if another group has the same one. Just pick. Write down your names and the genre on this sheet.”

The sheet makes it’s way around as you sit there trying to gain your professors attention but to no avail.

Did I do something wrong? You asked yourself. You get so caught up in your head and what you could have possibly done wrong when the list makes its way back to him.

“Ah, look at that.” Mr. Kim looks directly at you. “You don’t have a partner? Odd numbers, huh?” He takes a moment as he taps his pen against the sheet. “You’ll partner up with me.”

Everyone else murmurs their protest about it being unfair, this that and the third. “Calm down. She’ll do most of the work. This is a debate. In your pair’s you’ll each pick whether you prefer the genre in the past or how it is now. You’ll each defend your point in an oral debate, and I’ll grade you on your arguments.”

“Will there be a winner?” someone asks.

“I’ll leave that up to you. After each pair, you’ll note down your vote for which person you agree with, and I’ll tally up the scores and put them up on the forum. Get to work.” You get up to write down the genre for your debate only to see he’s already picked one for you.

“Soul?”

“Is there a problem?” He looks at you, trying to gauge your sobriety. “Nope. I just didn’t expect it.” You shrug, moving back to sit down.

After class he waited by the door, knowing very well you’d be waiting in your seat, slowly packing away your things.

After all, you had been staring at him with fuck me eyes the rest of the class while he broadly discussed a few genres in general. He stumbled over his words when you practically showed him your cunt, or well, your panties. Parting your thighs so that your little skirt lifted just up enough to show him the lace that hid you away from his hungry eyes.

Once the last student leaves he closes the door and locks it. Walking right up to where you were seated prettily, waiting for him with one leg over the other and your chin resting on your folded hands.

“You must be high.”

“Nope.” You popped the p for emphasis, batting your pretty lashes up at him.

“What game are you playing?”

“Why? Do you wanna play with me?”

His eye twitches before he relaxes and loosens his tie. Pressing both palms flat on your desk as he leans over to be in your face. Looking at you with the triangle method; eyes and lips.

“Are you sober, little girl?” Your breath hitches, eyes glazing over with lust.

“Yes.” He slicks his tongue in disagreement. “Try again.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.” With that, leaning over, he closes the gap and steals your breath in a mind-numbing kiss. You moan at the realisation that you’re finally kissing your professor. The man that’s been tormenting your thoughts and your dreams. And fuck, was it amazing. It was everything you imagined and more. He was soft with it but needy. He was gentle with but hungry. It made you incredibly hot and horny, your cunt already throbbing to be wrapped around something. Someone.

“Please, please fuck me.” You pull back, panting.

“I want to take my time with you.”

“Do you only want to do this once?” You ask, hurt evident in your small voice.

“Oh little girl. I can’t let you go now that I’ve had a taste of you.” Smoothing his knuckles along the side of your face, he gazes at you with such adoration, and you smile like the little girl he calls you to be. “I would lose my mind.”

“Then have me, right here, right now. And then later, you can take me home and take your time.” You reach your hand up to cup his sharp jaw. He looks at you, eyes scanning for any hint of uncertainty, but when you pout and beg so sweetly for him, how can he deny you? “Please, sir?”

“Fuck, okay.” He moves faster than either of you can comprehend, pulling you up out of your seat and bringing you to the office within his lecture hall. His lips are on yours once inside and his hands roam your body. Exploring every curve as fast as he can. Like you said, he could take his time with you later.

“Up” He guides you into the desk and moves his kisses to your neck. You lean to the side to give him more access. You spread your knees to pull him closer to where you need him and follow. Grinding his bulge against your heated core, earning a desperate whimper from your pretty lips. His fingers trail down your front, down to the plush of your thighs, and slip under your skirt to the apex of your thighs. Rapping your arms around him, your hips jolt at the touch, wanting nothing more than him to feel his finger deep inside your cunt.

“Sir, please.” He says nothing, simply kissing you again to silence you, pulling your panties to the side and stroking your soaked folds. His breath hitches at the feel of your essence.

“Dripping, little one.” He mumbles in awe against your lips. An unintelligent mewl falls from your lips when his ring and middle fingers circle your clit. He swallows all your sounds and hums his own into your moth. Twirling his tongue around yours before you suck on his, your grip tightens at the same time his pace on your cunt quickens. Determined to make you cum just by your clit, he gathers more of your slick and continues to rub the nub. You feel your thighs beginning to shake, knees threatening to close had it not been for Hongjoong’s hips keeping them spread open for him. Each stroke of his fingers sending jolts of pleasure through your core and up your spine, making you throw your head back. You broke the kiss, tucking your face in his neck and adoring the skin there with wet kisses.

“No marks, baby.” He groans when he feels you suckle. His own arousal was getting the best of him, tip twitching at every sound you made and the amount of slick he could feeling pouring out of you. He was so close to coming untouched. He needed to fuck you right now. The pressure on your clit stopped and your entrance was breached by not one, but two slender fingers. You had to bite your lip to stop the yelp that wanted to escape. The way the caressed your gummy walls had your toes curling in your shoes, your back arching you towards him and away simultaneously.

“Don’t run from me, little one. Take everything I give you.” Hongjoong whispered in your ear so dangerously low, more of your arousal made its presence. Following his instruction, your grip on his shoulders tightened, pulling yourself impossibly closer to him and his touch. His fingers weren’t trying to make you finish, however. He curls and scissors them with the aim to stretch you out for something much bigger. Still somehow, your body grasped onto the pleasure, right on the cusp of euphoria, you parted broke away to warn him, but he could already tell that you were close. Your walls pulsed around his fingers, a grip that made his cock throb and beg to be released from its confines and plunged into your warmth.

As fast as it approached, it was ripped away from you. “No...” You cried brokenly. “Please, sir. I-I’ll be good.”

“Ssh, baby. I’m not stopping.” His words made no sense, but you were only left confused for a second when you heard the tell-tale sound of a belt bring removed, button popped and zipper pulled down. You licked your lips in anticipation, but no amount of prep, either way, could have prepared you for the sight. The moment your professor pulled down his bottoms and his cock hit his lower abdomen, your jaw dropped. ‘Big’ was being polite. This man was huge. Girth and length enough to make you question if it would fit.

“It’ll fit.”

It seems that you had whispered out your concerns, but he was quick to calm them.

“HOW?” You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his length. The tip glistening and swollen. You wanted to kiss it better. Your focus was brought back by the gentle pinch of your chin being guided back to his face. A soothing kiss was like a balm for all your worries.

“Do you trust me, little girl?” He asked softly against your lips.

You nod your head. “I do.” You look up through your lashes, “I trust you, sir.”

He kisses you again, licking into your mouth with a consuming delicacy. As if he were trying to map out every corner and ridge. You moan when he sucks on your tongue at the same time you feel his tip at your entrance, but you do nothing to pull away. You trust him.

So you hold onto him, focus on his lips and that tongue. That tongue you wanted so badly to feel on your aching cunt when he takes you back home later. If he could do half of what he was doing on your mouth to your cunt then you’re certain he could have you in the palm of his hands. Tch, as if doesn’t already.

“Fuck, Joong.” The nickname slipped mindlessly when you felt him stretch you out fully, painfully almost but he was gentle enough that the pleasure overtook the pain.

Hongjoong, however, felt himself jump inside you, the sweet sound of you calling out for him like that had him losing all controlled dominance. He just wanted to take care of you. “Say that again.” It came out strained, which you mistook for annoyance.

“Sorry, sir.” He shook his head, burying his face in your neck and training his tongue over the skin before biting on it gently.

“Call me, Joong. Your Joong.” You were so confused but you loved this new side of him. Desperate for you. For your claim.

“Joong, please.” You gasped when he bottomed out, filling you up so well you felt you were made for each other. “Make me yours, Joong. My Joong.” Your nails clawed at the nape of his neck when he drew his hips back, tip snagged at your entrance.

The wind was knocked, or rather fucked, right out of you when he thrusts back in. His pace hard and fast but he was so deep you could feel him in your stomach.

“So good, so good for me, baby.” Hongjoong babbled as he fucked into you. Loving the feeling of your velvety walls hugging his cock with each drag. Loving the sound of both your moans and the slickness of both your arousal. You felt so tight, he wondered what idiots you’ve been messing around with. The thought alone of someone else having you like this drove him insane, made him fuck harder. Growling into your skin as he bit down a little too harshly. The sting only adding to your pleasure with the way his grip on your hips dug into your flesh.

“Oh, shit. ’m close, Joongie.”

The change in tempo made you cling onto him tighter, thighs shaking uncontrollably, moans becoming breathy whines as you felt that once dissipated high return like a boomerang.

You couldn’t say it because your breath was stolen in yet another desperate kiss. One that silenced you both as you came together. The way your walls clamped down on his cock made Hongjoong plunge deeper and still as his own orgasm was triggered. Rope after rope of cum coating your walls in pearl.

Nothing but your blood rushing in your ears could be heard, your surroundings gone for that moment. Only your lovers' touch and kiss kept you from ascending. He kissed you down, rubbing gently circles along your sides and the skin of your thighs. You whimpered when he moved to pull out.

“Stay inside.” You clung onto him, clenching by accident and earning a hiss. “sorry.” You whisper.

“It’s alright, baby.” He kisses your cheeks and forehead. “But I need to clean you up and get ready for my last next class.”

“I don’t think I can go to mine.” You gesture down to your still shaking thighs.

“You can stay in here and take a nap on the couch.” He offered, nodding over to the couch that sat in the corner of his office. You nod,

“Yeah. I’d like that.” You smile tiredly, and he pecks you once on your nose, which you scrunch up cutely.

“Can I pull out now?” He asks softly. “Fine” you say with faux exasperation.

He just smiles and kisses your jaw. Hongjoong apologises when you hiss as he pulls out, he looks down to catch the way his cum follows out of your hole but the pink tint of his cum makes his brows furrow in concern. The way he calls out your name makes your stomach flip in nerves. You noticed the shift immediately, and you were hoping you could have gotten away with it.

“Don’t be mad.” You wince.

“Why didn’t you tell me, little girl?” he questions softly, searching your eyes but you avoid his gaze.

“I didn’t – I don’t know.” You lower your head. He sighs, and you think it's because he’s annoyed with you, but he gently cups your jaw to gain your attention.

“My sweet baby, I wouldn’t have taken your virginity on my desk had I known.” He sounds hurt. “I would have spoiled you and taken you out and made you feel amazing.” He whines, and had you not been looking at him, you still would have heard the pout.

A smile stretches across your lips, “I do feel amazing, Joong. I just wanted you so bad I didn’t want to wait, and you’ve already been teasing me for so long.”

“A week, baby. Its been one week.”

“Yeah, seven whole days. One hundred and sixty-eight hours. Ten thousand-”

“and eighty seconds. Yes, I know little miss impatient.” He cuts you off, and you pout.

“But I hate that your first was on this stupid desk.”

“You’re taking me home today, right?” He nods. “Then we can have a do over.”

“A do over?” Your turn to nod. “Then I’d rather take you out this Friday and have you all weekend.”

“But Joongie-” you start to whine at the thought of waiting again.

“Please, just give me time to arrange everything for my little girl. The way she deserves.” He peppers kisses all along your face and neck to persuade you. And lucky for him, his soft lips are your new weakness.

“Okay. But just know I’m not going to go easy on you this week.” Poking a finger to the centre of his chest.

He smirks that same smirk he used when he first lured you in, “I’m counting on it, baby.”

Perm Taglist: @phattyboo90

Taglist: @sugarnspice630 @thesafecafe @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @joongswife25 @pearltinyy

Part two preview

Warnings: hurt, comfort, tbd

Wc: 300

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“Are you sure you’re okay, little girl?” Your boyfriend asks, concern written across his pretty face as he cups yours gently.

“M perfectly fine.” You slur, leaning into his touch.

“Why did you take edibles right before school?”

“I was anxious. Plus, how was I s’pposed t'know that the new batch was gonna be s'strong?”

It was a last-minute decision, not a very well thought out one, but you were going through your gift bag from San and tried out the new batch of gummies. This batch was chocolate covered, and because you love chocolate, you may have gone after the taste and ate three by accident.

“I had to say you’ve been sick, and you're on strong medication.”

“Well, it is medicinal, Joongie.” You joke.

“M sorry, I just...-m thirsty.” You forget your train of apologies when you feel your mouth cotton up.

“Not funny, baby.” He deadpans, dropping his arms to his sides, and you lose balance since you were leaning all your weight against him, but he quickly steadies you, holding you close.

Hongjoong reaches for his water bottle on his desk and unscrews the top, feeding it to you.

All he wanted was for you to be able to open up to him and let him in on what’s going on. Why do you keep using it even when you insist you’re doing fine. You say it’s anxiety, but how can he know for sure when you joke about it the way you do. The only thing that he’s certain of is his feelings for you. So no matter what it is, good bad and everything in between, he’d help you through the haze.

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lazykittysmile · 1 year ago

Text

𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝟎𝟎𝟒 : 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐣𝐞𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐬 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 ⌗

𝐜𝐰: nudity, masturbation (both female and male), dirty talk, intense eye fucking, a lot of bickering (they're a playful couple), eventual p in v at the end

“C’mon Y/n, quit messing around,” Minho shakes his head, still chuckling at the absurdness of what you just said, “tell me what you really want,” he says, confidently placing his hands on his waist, “it’s christmas, and I’m feeling generous, don’t make me regret it.”

“I am telling you what I really want though,” you respond, getting up on your feet to reach his eye level, “what makes you think that I’m messing around?”

What makes him think that you’re messing around? Seriously? Did you actually just ask him that?

Okay, uhm, lets see, maybe the fact that you literally just asked to watch him jerk off while wearing nothing but a Noel hat for your christmas gift, how about that?

“Please tell me that’s a rhetorical question because I think the answer is quite obvious Y/n.” he mumbles under his breath, fluttering his eyes at you tiredly. It’s been only ten seconds but he already regrets having asked you about your desired christmas gift for this year, I’m an idiot, he thinks to himself, I should’ve just gotten her a cute Swarovski necklace or something.

Because he knew, he so knew that you were going to be weird about this before even asking you, but for once, he wanted to give you a chance to prove him wrong about something.

And you failed, gosh, he hates knowing you so well sometimes.

“That’s not a rhetorical question,” you sigh, sulking as you cross your arms over your chest, “you were the one who asked to know about what I wanted, so I told you, what’s the problem with that?”

Great, now you’re upset, isn’t tonight being such a fun night?

“Nothing,” he steps up, and takes in a deep breath as he does, “nothing is wrong with that baby,” he softly whispers, cupping your cheeks, “but I meant gifts as in normal ones, like buyable stuff, yeah?”

“You didn’t say that in the beginning.”

“I know and I-”

“But mine is already a buyable gift, like you said.”

He freezes in disbelief, you just cannot be for real right now, “Care to explain me how, please?”

“The Noel hat—”

“Oh come on!”

Not the noel hats, he thinks, because that’s just unfair. He bought them for you without thinking that you could use them against him like this, gosh, how can he be so naive?

You smirk, savoring the rare joy of having your boyfriend so desperately cornered. The poor thing looks so done with you but what can you say, it’s such a rare sight to witness, you just gotta make every second worth.

“We didn’t have any, so I asked you to buy a pair for us the other day, remember?”

He nods, “I do, and I did buy them for you, like a fucking fool.”

You giggle, he’s so dramatic, and cute, and sexy — sorry if that sounded out of nowhere but you’re literally dating Minho, the guy is always sexy.

“You did, because you’re a great boyfriend,” you coo, bringing one of the said hats to him, “and since you’ve already bought me my gift, you can put it on and take the rest of your clothes off, because I wanna receive my christmas gift right now.”

“Oh—”

“Yeah.”

Cool, coolcoolcoolcool, so you want him to get naked and freaky right now — that’s alright, that’s fine, that’s okay, he’s definitely not starting to panic, not at all. He’s not even sure if he’s shaved enough for this but that’s no biggie, right?

Who is he kidding, this is a disaster.

“Y/n wait,” he awkwardly chuckles, trying to steal the damned hat from your grip, “maybe we should—”

“Take. Your. Clothes. Off. Minho.” you cut him off sternly, oh he’s absolutely adorable trying to calm you down but too bad, your ovaries do not care — you need dick, his dick, and you need it now, “Do not make me repeat myself.”

“Fine — fuck,” that’s it, he gives up, trying to talk you out of this will clearly not work, so he has another idea — taking you down with himself, “I’ll do it, but under one condition.”

“And what’s that?”

“You will do it too, you will join me.”

Alright that’s unexpected, but you’re intrigued to hear more.

“Why would I agree to do that when I already have the upper hand right now?”

Good point, he thinks, except he has a better one.

“Because if you do, we can bet on who can last the longest,” he says, confidently tilting his head, smiling almost as if he’s challenging you into taking him down, “the loser can give head to the winner until they finish, what do you say, sounds good?”

“Sounds nasty, deal.”

And with that, your competition begins.

The clothes you take off end up forming a pile on the floor within minutes as you sit across each other, both very naked, and wearing nothing but a pair of matching noel hats — aren’t you two just so cute?

To tease him a little, you slouch down on the couch and spread your legs, letting him get a good view of your pussy that he loves oh so much. He instinctively licks his lips as he watches you bringing two fingers to slowly rub your clit, and the closer you get to your hole, the deeper his chest heaves — gosh, he wants to touch you so bad.

“Like what you see?” you ask, and he smiles,

“Can't you tell by my face?” he responds, looking down, “Or my dick?”

Oh yeah, he’s got a point, a very big point.

“Well, don’t just stand there then,” you sigh — rather erotically at that, as you finally slide the mentioned fingers into your cunt, doing it without removing your eyes from his for one second, “amuse me, there’s a bet, remember?”

Right, the bet.

He was so busy drooling over your cute cunt that he almost forgot about it for a second — but don’t worry, if amused is what you wish to be, he will not disappoint you.

Which is why he makes sure that your gaze doesn’t switch from him as he spits right onto the head of his hardened cock, then smears it all over his thick shaft entirely, doing it without any haste.

He knows you love it when he does that.

Then, he too slouches on where he sits, following your lead, and leaves his muscular legs agape — enough for you to fit in between, you know, just in case that you make a quick quit and decide to just suck him off.

“Is this amusing enough for you?” he sardonically quips, stroking his dick in a pace that he for sure knows isn’t enough to satisfy you.

“Could be,” you hum, “if you stopped being a coward and went a little faster.”

And here it is, just the reaction he expected coming from you, except now it’s his turn to make some demands.

“Add another finger in your pussy for me, then I’ll consider.”

“Done.”

You didn’t even make him say it twice, nice, he thinks, this is gonna be an exhilarating night.

Because how can it not be when the sight before his eyes gives him all the motivation that he needs to make it one — you, drenched in sweat, moaning as you play with yourself for him.

Yes, he knows that you’re technically doing it all for the bet but gosh, you’re being so good to him, you’re taking his breath away — Santa really should reward you this christmas.

“Now it’s your turn,” you whisper right then, breaking his thoughts with your whiny voice — he literally does not want you to stop talking at this point, “fasten up, baby boy.”

Baby boy, huh?

It’s so . . . cute . . . you’re so cute.

As he chuckles at the nick you call him by, he follows your words and speeds up, letting your eyes have a feast whilst he fists his dick rather frustratedly. But safe to say, it doesn’t take him long before he notices that he’s physically incapable of tolerating your demand — he’s just too sensitive, too aroused and a little too motivated to … uhm, fuck you already.

Alright, fine, he admits — jerking off naked with only a noel hat on was not as bad of an idea as he thought it was, okay?

Because it works — it works a little too well actually, his shaky hands and sloppy pace is the biggest proof of that. He really is struggling hard right now, and of course, it doesn’t go unnoticed but you, as it never does.

“No slacking off!”

And you call him out, perfect, this is just amazing.

“Huh?”

He’s just gonna play dumb, that’s the safest option.

“No slacking off, I said,” you repeat yourself, pointing with your chin at how he’s barely even rubbing his tip, “you can’t just pace down cause you’re close, that’s cheating.”

Okay, you know what? He’s done.

He’s not gonna compete with you over something that he has zero chances of winning, not when you look that good sitting only a few meters away from him.

His dick is twitching to be inside you, throbbing in his palms — almost begging to be milked dry by your tight, warm walls.

That’s it, he gives up, he needs your pussy — he needs it fast.

“Then congrats babe,” he says, getting up and walking towards you, “you just won the bet.”

You what?

And how?

You’re so unbelievably confused right now.

“I what?” you ask, watching him close the gap with each step that he takes until he stops, and stands right before you, “Minho what are you doing?”

“Losing the stupid bet,” he answers as he reaches for your waist, “and updating the punishment that we decided for the loser.” he adds, easily lifting you up after wrapping his arms all around you tightly — god, it’s like your weight means nothing to him, he’s so strong.

“But that’s not—”

“The loser, I, will fuck the winner, you, for as long as you want,” he cuts your words as he aligns the tip of his throbbing cock against your entrance, and smacks it in between your folds.

Which works like a miracle at silencing you — that can only mean one thing, he thinks to himself, you’re interested to hear more.

“I’ll also let you decide the pace,” so he continues, raising his brows in waiting for your approval to bury himself inside your sweet paradise, “any objections?”

“No,” you reply, encircling your legs over his hips as he fills you up to your stomach — it feels so good, you’d be stupid if you were to object to this.

So “none at all,” you mewl dreamily, “this the best christmas gift ever.”

And it indeed is, trust me, he knows.

𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐳 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 💚

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