#cause he is the teacher's pet and he enjoys it

[chibichibisha]

Thinking about Dragon Age Origins (again) and my Amell is the type of mage that would openly say "You use blood magic? Skill issue. Can't be me" and Jowan would actually want him to be obliterated by a fucking templar

[jensthwa]

we can't be friends (CS x reader).

part of the love's an uncharted path universe ★.

SUMMARY:

San is your first love. He broke your heart and played with your feelings without even kissing you back when you two were in highschool. Now, many years later, you do your best to avoid crossing paths with him because there's just no way you could ever hate him, but there's also no way you two can be friends again. But his best friend is also one of your best friends, so there's only so much you can do to avoid San when he arranges a dinner you're forced to go to.

PAIRING: first love!choi san x afab reader.

GENRE: one shot (fluff, angst, smut)

WORD COUNT: 20k (yikes).

WARNINGS: SMUT ☽ (MINORS DNI) attempt !!! at comedy, unnecesary pinning, a looot of context, bad friends :(, some arguing, tension, drinking and drunk behavior, tears, making out, description of female anatomy, oral (f reciving), fingering, love making, pet names (babe, baby), flirty seonghwa, wooyoung being a little shit again but also a genius, gyuri almost commiting a crime.

NOTES: hi everyone! this is a lenghty one, i know, but trust me when I say the context is necessary to understand what reader goes through with san. also, some of this may or may not have happened to me (have fun figuring out which part) (it's quite obvious tbh). THIS IS PART OF THE SHOW AND TELL UNIVERSE BUT CAN BE READ AS A STAND ALONE, even though there's some references and characters that you can only know if you read s&t lol. this is 100% self indulgent, as all fics should be, and i think i've re-read it so many times that if you find a typo or something that just doesn't make sense, you can blame it on english not being my first language i guess lmao. i hope you enjoy it and if you do feel free to send/reblog/type in any feedback or thoughts! <3

POSTED: august 06 2024.

permanent taglist: @hotteokkay, @potatomountain, @fairylover68

masterlist.

You and Choi San go way back. 

Well, it's nine years way back? You were only fourteen when you first saw him. 

He moved back to your area of the city a year after you moved from an entirely different one. You thought you knew every school secret there ever was, provided by your new best friend, Gyuri, but she didn't tell you about him at all. 

She claimed that it was because he didn't cause any stir the years they studied together before and after spending a whole first period in your eighth grade classroom with him at the back of the class, silently taking notes, you couldn't phantom why.

He was great at every subject, seemed to have a lot of popular friends and was, overall, a pretty nice guy. He was also very cute, skinny but you could tell he was the kind of guy who played a sport outside of school hours and he had a cute pair of dimples that showed everytime you scanned the classroom just to lay eyes on him. 

Choi San was a perfect boy to crush on, even a perfect guy just to have as eye candy during recess. You felt really strongly about him, not really forming a full opinion although your gut told you right away you were right. There was something about him… but you only figured that something until later, next year, starting your ninth grade. 

Gyuri and you were avid readers. Precocious girls, with minds way above your age. All your teachers praised came laced with the same compliment so you both decided that was the truth. You rejoiced in it, thinking you shared things in common with the grown ups and decided that that was the key to feeling a little superior in comparison to the rest of your classmates, who neither of you liked very much. 

Until they all decided to start dating each other and you two realized you were nothing but two kids with great imaginations and a love for school, praise and fictional men that couldn't be translated to the real world without sounding delusional and weird. 

So you decided to do something about it. And so, on a random Tuesday recess, you two scanned the crowd trying to find two boys (or a boy and a girl, because you always knew you liked girls too) worthy of your affections. One for her, one for you. Bonus points if the two of them were also best friends, of course. 

Double dates were all the buzz at the time anyways. 

Besides, only then they could understand the bond you and Gyuri had. Sisterhood like no other, nevermind Gyuri actually had an older sister and a niece at the ripe age of fifteen. 

And so when your index finger scanned the crowd and eliminated at least three potential crushes before landing on Choi San, you felt like it was meant to be. 

You see, his best friend, Jung Wooyoung, was perfect for Gyuri to crush on. He was almost as tall as she was at the time and his easy, outgoing personality was compatible with her book crush at the time as well. 

He also flirted with her on several occasions before that. 

So it was meant to be. 

Choi San, on the other hand, had never even glanced in your direction before. 

Just like your book crush did before he fell in love with the main character. 

See? Meant. To. Be. 

It was decided then that, although Choi San was not going to be your first crush ever, he was going to be the guy that motivated you to be at school for the time being, because math gets really boring after trying and failing at least ten times. 

You thought nothing of it when it felt a little forced, when you couldn't blush at all at the sight of him and you gathered that it didn't need to happen like in the books you read. You simply needed to say his name when someone asked you if you had a crush on anyone and that was enough to be in symphony with the rest of your classmates. 

Your longing glances were caught once or twice by him and you brushed the weird flip your stomach did everytime he looked away, blushing a little. You never really cared when it happened, really, knowing his crowd and your crowd (Gyuri and you) would never even cross paths in the first place. 

You two kept to yourselves and your little book unofficial book club, sitting on the floor at lunch time and cursing everyone who dared to call you weird for it. San and Wooyoung had a crowd of people at the loudest table laughing with them over stupid teen jokes and, uh, sports? You didn't even know. 

And then the unimaginable happened. 

Jung Wooyoung sat down, criss cross applesauce and everything, in front of you on a random Monday afternoon while you and Gyuri discussed the english assignment due next period. 

Gyuri was not too excited about that. 

Turns out, the only one excited to have a crush at school was you. She was very much still in the Lonely Hearts Club phase while you skipped all the way to your The Notebook phase and she was, in her own words, too afraid to admit it when you came up with your crush plan. 

You forgave her, of course, and decided to wait for her as long as needed because you were certainly not about to be an individual and have a crush on your own. 

And by the time Wooyoung smiled at you both and introduced himself to you, like you weren't in the same class for a year already, you thought your pretend crush on his best friend evaporated and joined the void superficial and fleeting interests you had. 

But then Choi San sat beside him, his knee brushing against yours in the process, and you knew you would have to issue a formal apology to your best and only friend for leaving her behind on this little thing. 

Because, oh boy, were you crushing on Choi San. 

You felt the blush rush to your cheeks and then fell silent while your friend and his friend discussed Fifty Shades of Grey for some reason you never cared enough to discover and you knew you were done for.

It was the first time seeing his dimples in full action, so close to you, so you completely stopped functioning all together. Amazing. 

When you decided to have a crush, you never took into account that you were, actually, quite shy. And he really wasn't, but you noticed that he knew when to talk and what to say and with your friend being a lot more outgoing that you were it gave you the comfort that she would speak for the both of you while you admired from the sidelines as your little duo became a group of friends you still miss deeply to this day. 

He was funny and you laughed at your jokes even though you pretended to be tired and completely worn out by the school day, resting your head on Gyuri’s shoulder and stealing glances at the boy while she kept arguing with his best friend. 

Wooyoung was popular and liked enough to have a few people sit with you later that week, people who never even knew you existed before that. They were good friends with San as well, so you tried your best to keep up with everyone until she sat down next to you one day. 

Arin was not really a bad person. She just was a bit conceited, calling herself princess type of conceited and you never really related to her even if she was nice to you to your face. She was absolutely gorgeous and, you found out with Wooyoung’s arm around your shoulder and a whisper to your ear, she had been San’s crush since they were both in elementary school. 

That would explain the sudden tension at the table when she sat down next to you, said hello to everyone, offered you a sweet she just bought from the cafeteria, and stared at San for the remainder of lunch time. 

You also noticed Wooyoung glaring at her a little and he later explained to you that he didn't really like her all that much. She loved attention and San gave her attention, so she would intentionally flirt with him to get her ego stroked in return. 

It didn't really matter how he felt about the girl, though, he didn't have to like her just because his best friend did. And when you caught her batting her eyelashes at San, you knew you didn't even stand a chance.

You tried to hide the disappointed look on your face but both Gyuri and Wooyoung looked at you while the two of them flirted endlessly for the remainder of lunch time and you figured you were doing a pretty shitty job at it. He didn't glance at you once either way, so it didn't really matter. 

Arin did but she just complimented your eyes and then started a conversation with someone across the table, her annoying sweet and fake voice making your right ear ring in disapproval. 

Either way, you ended up becoming her friend. Gyuri was not very fond of her and neither were you, but you all went to the bathroom together, did your makeup together, did school projects together and then sat everyday at lunch together with the rest of the guys who were, in one way or another, trying to get her to like them. 

Because, once again, she was a sight for sore eyes. 

It wasn't until later, in the middle of the year, that one of them did. Not Choi San, but Choi Yeonjun. 

You remember the day you found out they were together and the gut wrenching concern you felt when you found out that San was not at school that day. 

It was after summer break, you remember Wooyoung telling you that San and his family took a few more days of vacation and if you couldn't believe your eyes when you saw the new couple sharing a sweet kiss at the designated lunch table, you could only imagine how San felt the next day when he saw the same image right in front of him. 

Yeonjun was his friend, right? He knew about his crush and decided to get together with her anyways. Surely, San was devastated. 

But he wasn't. He just cheered them on and then laughed along when Yeonjun shoved his arm playfully after the hollering. 

But you saw through it. 

Your crush on San made you observant. Made you believe you knew him better than everyone else and so, after lunch, you took out your phone and pulled up the notes app. Writing a simple “are you okay?” in it and passing it to him the next second, you were surprised with yourself before you saw him frown a bit. And then he understood what you meant. 

Nodding, he passed you the phone back, before giving you a reassuring smile that you treasured in your heart and saw in your dreams. 

You didn't believe him, though, but stayed close enough to everything related to the situation to hold Arin in your arms when Yeonjun inevitably broke her heart. 

Starting your tenth year, he moved back to his city and decided to play the I thought we weren't even that serious card on her. Which was nasty, considering love it's very, very serious for a sixteen year old girl. 

By this point, you were all a little family and hanging out after school and on the weekends was not unusual, so it didn't surprise you when Arin invited you, and only you, to her house after choir practice on a Thursday. 

She lent you her older sister’s clothes to wear (because her's would never fit you. Her words, not yours) and took you to a walk in the park just to break your heart for the first time ever. 

“You know… I thought love was something I couldn't find in highschool anymore. But San it's really making an effort, you know? He's been there for me ever since Yeonjun left and… Well, I think he's going to ask me to be his girlfriend tomorrow.” 

Grasping the park bench she forced you to sit at, you only nodded and let out a shuddering breath that gave away what she was trying to figure out since earlier that day. 

“I'll say yes but only if you say it's okay to do so.” 

Arin was not really your friend, the same way Yeonjun was not really San’s friend. 

Because there's no way you would ever be okay with it. 

And yet, you tried your best to give her a smile and pretend the sound of your heart breaking didn't bring tears to your eyes “Of course it's okay. Why wouldn't it be?” 

A week later, they were officially dating. The rumors spread around like a wildfire and it took out of you with everyone calling San a nasty rebound and you doing your best to prioritize the ghost of the friendship you had with him. That whole fiasco lasted a few months. 

Months in which your friendship with everyone just grew stronger. Gyuri was still your best friend, Wooyoung was crushing on her hard and everyone knew, Arin and San were a steady couple, a new girl joined your class that year, named Yeri, and the principal assigned her to you because she thought you two would get along really well. 

“I like girls,” was like, the third thing she ever told you while you were showing her the school “I'm just telling you now because I don't plan on hiding it and you are wearing a pride pin.” 

“Oh, that's cool. I like girls too,” you smiled, looking at your pride pin “I didn't hide it either and no one gave me shit about it, so, don't worry.” 

Yeri also liked the mainstream music that you liked and soon she became a new addition to your group. And with Arin spending all of her free time with San, you, Gyuri and Yeri only grew closer and closer. You didn't have Arin’s voice in your ear telling you the million reasons she found Yeri uncool, but you saw it in her face every time the table laughed at one of Yeri’s jokes. 

And so, it went on for a while: 

Your mom driving all of you around in her car to the beach, to dinner, to the movies and letting you have mixed sleepovers at your house (meaning you, Arin, Gyuri, Wooyoung, Yeri and San) was fun and all, but it was not enough to distract yourself entirely. Everytime you glanced at the couple, that sinking feeling in your chest would appear and sulk your whole mood for, at least, fifteen minutes.  

Fifteen minutes of pretending you were okay with them before forgetting completely for an hour or so and then the cycle would repeat until you were alone staring at the ceiling and doing your best to not cry about it.

All it took was your first kiss being Yeri of all people for you to decide that it was time to retire your crush for Choi San once and for all. 

And for a while, it all went according to plan. You decided to tell Gyuri that it was okay because he was your friend first and the guy that you liked second and that you were not fourteen and desperate for love anymore, that it was time to go on with your life as if nothing really happened in the first place. 

You were hooking up with Yeri anyways, so it seemed like you were doing just fine. 

You grew closer to San as well and even though he mostly talked to you about Arin and whatever tantrum she was throwing at the time, you really started to feel some sense of normalcy within you when it came to just speaking to him. 

You no longer blushed when he made you laugh, you no longer looked at him with the longing of a past life lover and you were really happy for him because, at the end of the day, he was really happy with his relationship. 

Until winter break came around and Arin decided to give San his first heartbreak ever. 

She decided to call for a break in their relationship because she was, in his words, too overwhelmed with the amount of love and attention she was getting from him. 

Which was completely fucking insane considering the fact she forced him to save her contact as Princess Arin and all. 

So naturally, you sided with him. And she didn't take it to heart because everyone knew you liked San anyways. 

She told you the news herself through Facebook after asking you to explain to her the English assignment due next day and then she decided to tell you something you'll never understand because you no longer are on speaking terms with her: 

Princess Arin: u know i broke up with him because of u right? :) 

Princess Arin: one day I'll tell u all abt it. 

She never told you anything about it. And by then, you were starting your last year and San was your best friend who hung out with you everyday after school, calling you late at night and helping you with assignments through Skype. So you didn't really care. 

And as the day passed, you started understanding the connection they talked about in books and movies. You thought you did before, Gyuri being your eternal person in this world, but it felt so different with San. 

Different and good. Different and achy enough for you to want to keep it in your life. 

Your dynamic was friendly, sure, but it was alright. It consisted of banter and daring stares as well as laughter and soft moments you treasured till this day. 

“It's way too early to be this annoying, Choi San.” 

“Oh, you think this is me being annoying?”

You both got an hour of detention for disturbing the class that day. 

You loved it. 

But then, after almost a month of picking up the broken pieces of his heart one by one, and your mother giving him a self-help book to make him regain the confidence he lost during the breakup process, you realized that you were in love with him and there was nothing you could do about that. 

You noticed one friday afternoon, when he offered to pay for your and your mom's ice cream at the drive through, when he scrambled to get all the change he had on him to leave a tip for the person who handed you guys the sweet treat, that there was no way you didn't love him. 

And it was confusing as fuck when everyone else started to tell you he had feelings for you as well. 

“Think about it. You text each other good morning everyday” Yeri listed with her finger and you nodded “Then, you go to school, sit together and spend the rest of the day together” another nod “Then after school you either go get ice cream together or hang out for a bit with your mom while she drives him home. And after that, you get on Skype for the reminder of the afternoon and then he calls you on your house phone and you two spend the rest of the night talking before falling asleep on the line together,” she looked at you like you were insane for even denying the accusations made against San, but she continued anyway “And then it's rinse and repeat and it has been that way since… What? Three months ago?” 

You nodded again, defeated. 

“Girl, he likes you.” she sighed, annoyed and a little tired, before sitting on your lap and kissing your lips affectionately “And you're here making out with me instead of him. You really are a lost cause.”

That didn't stop you from hooking up with her until she found a girl who's heart was not reserved for someone else, though. Said girl went to a different school and was a year younger than all of you, but she looked very happy and stopped secretly kissing you in the school bathroom like a week after they met. 

And when she finally told everyone, you were really happy for her, but San not so much. 

It was the night you thought everything was about to change. The night you thought he was about to kiss you or you were about to kiss him, whatever happened first. 

Laying in your bed, facing each other in the dim light, he thought it was the biggest form of betrayal and pouted the whole time he explained to you why. 

He thought you liked her and you realized he didn't really pay attention to you after all. Not the way you did with him. 

Bless his heart. 

You didn't kiss him that night because he wouldn't shut up about you and Yeri. 

“I mean, why couldn't it be you? She clearly liked you if you two were hooking up for over a year” and when his hand came to rest on your back, under your shirt, you breath hitched enough for him to notice it but not enough for him to just don't do anything about it except trace the curve of your silhouette with the pad of his thumb “I don't understand why anyone would pass the opportunity to be with you.” 

Huh. Maybe he did have feelings for you. 

No. He's just being a great best friend. Don't take that for granted. 

But it was impossible for you not to take Yeri’s words seriously as time went on. 

You didn't want to think he was giving you mixed signals, but yet again there was that one time when you reached behind your passenger seat in your mothers car to pinch his leg playfully after he pulled on your hair a little bit from behind, only to end up holding his hand the rest of the car trip to his house. 

His fingers slowly caressing the back of your hand were just too much for you not to get everything mixed up. 

Or that other time when your school held a Woman's Day event, and your class president decided that all the boys in the class were going to give roses to the girls.

When it was your turn to get a rose, you knew no one would give you one. But Yeri stood in line and collected a rose from the bin before the class president had the opportunity to say anything else. 

“I'll take that, thank you very much.” She turned to you, smiling. San blocked her way to you a second after. 

“And just what do you think you're doing?” 

“Giving my best girl a rose, of course.” She peeked around him, giving you a wink that you could only roll your eyes to. 

San turned to you, the fondness in his eyes making you question the decision of not pretending to be sick that day. It was too much for you to handle. 

“To the back of the line, then. I already called dibs on her,” he turned to your friend, snatching the rose from her hand in one swift move “I'll take that, thank you very much.” 

He had no idea what that meant to you back then. It was true that, at school, he behaved a little differently than when you two were alone. 

He was athletic, so he had some friends that you were sure used to ask him what the fuck was he doing wasting his time with a girl like you instead of getting a new girlfriend. 

He had a family that didn't approve of yours, too. You felt it the first time you met his mom and, even though she was nice to you and your mom, you could feel the judgemental stare she gave both of you when your mom told her she was a single parent. 

San told you that it didn't really matter, that his mom didn't have to like you because you weren't her friend, you were his. 

He played with your feelings a little too well. Wanting him, adoring him and letting yourself be consumed by the thought of him loving you back was enough to keep it going. To ignore the fluttering way your heart kept beating whenever he talked to you which was all the time. 

You assumed the way he behaved with you in private was the real him. The one who didn't care about appearances or his family approval. 

The one who cared about you. 

It was dizzying and fantastic and you thought he just might've been the love of your life. 

But then he would tell you how much it hurted when he saw Arin at school and how much he missed her, the intimacy they shared before, and reality would come crashing down and setting your delusions on fire again. 

He had sex with Arin. You would never stand a chance. 

Or so you thought he did. Except when you overheard Arin speaking to her friends and that was the first time you ever got mad at Choi San.

“And, you know, me and San were never intimate like that so I wouldn't know but I think boys have no idea how to please a woman if they tried to.” 

What? 

Oh. So he lied to you. 

And you were so upset by the thought of him making up stories of their intimate time together that it didn't even cross your mind that Arin might've been lying to save face. 

So when he came back from the bathroom and sat at his usual desk in front of you, you didn't even think about his feelings when you decided to treat him like shit for lying about something so important like sex to your face. 

“Leave me alone, San! I don't want to fucking talk to you right now!” 

The hurt expression he gave you after that is one you would never be able to forget. 

But you grew to be stubborn and a little overprotective of your own feelings, so you thought him playing the part of your best friend all these months and sweet talking to you was just another one of his lies. 

“You guys not being friends right now doesn't make any fucking sense, sweetheart.” Wooyoung's tone is careful and laced with affection, but you knew he was playing the devil's advocate on behalf of San. With his arm around Gyuri’s shoulder (by that point, they were a thing for over two months) you could swear you saw him smirk when the nickname brought a scowl to your face. 

He might've been worried, but he was also a little shit. 

“You really are going to let Arin ruin what you two have?” Your best friend was, of course, on your side. But she was your best friend for a reason and her love included pointing out when you were behaving like an infant at the age of seventeen and a half. 

“You two are practically dating and you're going to let the evil ex-girlfriend get in the way? Over something you weren't even supposed to hear in the first place? Come on.” 

Again, Wooyoung was a little shit. And you were so upset about everything that you shyness couldn't even help the fury behind your reply: 

“Stop saying that! We are not practically dating, he's in love with Arin and I'm not sure I even like him like that anymore!” Getting tired of everyone and their mother (your mother) feeding your delusions, you came to the conclusion that putting a stop to your friendship with Choi San was for the best. 

And, in doing so, you ended up breaking your own heart for the second time in your life. 

But he didn't put up an easy fight at all. You remember the feeling of pure joy when he grabbed your hand on the way to the cafeteria one day, pulling you so hard you almost ended up sitting in his lap, and the way his pleading eyes begged you to listen to him one last time. 

“Us not being friends doesn't feel right, Y/N…” he said and the word he used to categorize what both of you had hurted you, but you pushed the feeling away “Please, let's not fight anymore. I don't even know what happened, but I forgive you for yelling at me and I hope you forgive me for whatever it is you think I did.” 

Of course, you forgave him the next second without thinking too much about it. And for a while, everything went back to normal. You Skyped as usual and occasionally you let your other friends join the call even though it didn't really feel like it used to before. 

The next thing you knew, your feelings were in full bloom again and when you realized it, it was too late. 

Because by then, you had already let your childhood friend, Sunhee, join a few Skype calls and by the fourth one she invited her friend, Minseo, to them as well. 

Terrible, terrible mistake. Because even through the screen, you could see that Minseo looked a lot like Arin with the added bonus that she was down to earth and cool and liked the same things San liked.

You liked the same things San liked as well, but it never seemed to matter. 

Because not even two months after you decided to stop talking to San over a lie you weren't supposed to find out in the first place and then became friends one more time, he gets together with Minseo and you're sick to your stomach all over again. 

You hated her. Not because she was, suddenly, his girlfriend (not girlfriend girlfriend, but in a friends with benefits arrangement you never even knew why he agreed on in the first place) but because suddenly she was so fucking obnoxious and didn't seem to like you either. 

Was it not painfully obvious San didn't have feelings for you? Why was she mad at you then? You literally brought them together! 

And all you got in return was her telling him she didn't feel comfortable with him having a girl best friend. That ungrateful bitch. 

He stopped calling. He stopped texting, he stopped carpooling with you and your mom after school and he stopped caring whether your math assignment was done or not. 

He stared pulling away more and more and it didn't matter how hard you tried to get him to talk to you, it seemed like he never really fucking cared about you in the first place. 

And by may that year, you didn't speak to San anymore. Granted, the only person he did speak to was Wooyoung, but even their friendship was falling apart. 

For the first time ever, San broke your heart firsthand. And it felt really, really fucking bad. 

You cried to your mom about it, she reminded you that you were nothing but a great friend to him and that, if he didn't take the time to appreciate that, that was his loss not yours. 

And she started hating him from that moment on. But you couldn't hate San, not even a little bit. 

Why would you hate him for not liking you back? For not loving you the way you loved hi— 

Your laptop closes down right in front of you and when you try to look up to find out who's responsible for interrupting your writing time, you get interrupted again. 

“Ouch! What the fuck, Gyuri?” The slap to the back of your head is quick and filled with rage. 

“What the fuck are you even writing. I can read from here, you know?” 

“I'm just laying my feelings down and— Ouch! Stop that!” You try to hit her back but she turns away quickly when your hands almost knock her coffee mug out of hers. 

“You can't possibly still have love for San, Y/N. It's been years.”

It's been four and a half, to be precise. But who's counting, right? 

“And why are you writing it in third person? You don't usually do that.” 

“I don't really know, Gyuri!” 

“I’m telling you, this celebratory dinner bullshit it's affecting you way more than it should,” she sighs, plopping down on the couch of your shared living room, and you leave your seat at the table to join her “He might not even show up. He has that thing with Kyungmi.” 

Kyungmi. 

You couldn't get to that part on your open document, but San left Minseo when he met Kyungmi at one of the frat parties they love to attend. Wooyoung told you that he said that it was love at first sight and you even met her briefly when you picked Gyuri up from the apartment he and San got when they started college together. 

She’s gorgeous and doesn't look like Arin or Minseo at all. It’s a different type of gorgeous. She's a year older than San and went to the same school as them and Gyuri. 

You think you might even like her better than him. 

You tried to be happy for San when you found out, but you two barely even speak a word to each other and you convinced yourself a while ago that you couldn't care less if he sees right through you and your fake smiles. 

You gathered, after everything happened, that San knew you liked him and took advantage of that. Unintentionally, but he did anyway. 

You sigh, resting your head on your best friend's shoulder. “It’s his best friend's celebratory dinner, though, he needs to be there.” 

Two seconds pass and then you both say it at the same time: “He’s in love.” 

And when San is in love, he has a one track mind with the name of his lover as the goal. 

You nod, but you can't help but to be insistent “It's Wooyoung's celebratory dinner, he needs to show up, right?” 

“I might not even show up, he's a pain in the ass.” She replies but you can tell her annoyance is not genuine and it makes you smile. 

Gyuri and Wooyoung broke up towards the end of your first year of college but you all stayed close friends. A one year relationship was not enough to fuck up the friendship they had and they decided to stay civil until, eventually, they became close friends again. 

To this day, you wonder why you and San couldn't rekindle your friendship when it became clear to you that you missed your friend and not the guy that you liked. 

Because San was always your friend first and your first love second. 

But it doesn't really matter anymore, because Gyuri is forcing you to shower and reminding you that you two need to keep Wooyoung on his best behavior tonight. 

“That girl he used to like before me is going, he said. I looked her up, she's single and he needs to get together with her because I can't take him whining about it anymore.” 

They keep things with each other way too civil, you think. 

“I'm telling you, if we don't show up he's going to do that thing where he gets drunk and makes a fool of himself. I can't have that, I'm on a mission.” 

“A mission to get your ex laid?” You ask, shampooing your hair. 

“A mission to get him a girlfriend so he can stop crying to me about feeling lonely.” 

“Maybe he wants you guys to—” The shower curtain opens and you see your best friend’s scowl before covering yourself up with your hands. 

“Gyuri!”

“Don't you dare say what you were about to say or I'm divorcing you.” 

You chuckle “Sure you are.”

You're left alone again with the water stream and she goes back to do her makeup “I told you back in ninth grade that we weren't a great fit and I was right. We can't get back together,” she sighs “It'll ruin everything.” 

“I doubt it will but you guys have been friends longer than you were boyfriend and girlfriend, so I'll just have to deal with my parents being divorced and civil.” 

“God, don't ever refer to us like that again— Oh! Speaking of parents,” you see her beam at her phone when you move the shower curtain to search for your towel and then she shows it to you “Mingi and Love just celebrated their one year anniversary!” 

Love being Mingi’s best friend. Gyuri talks to you about her college friend group all the time. The drama fuels your dinner conversations, you even follow a few of them on social media. 

“What does that have to do with parents?”

“They're the mom and dad of the group.” 

San is in that friend group, you can see him in the back of the picture and you recognize his apartment layout too. He's not the main focus of it but he's all you can see until you notice the couple sitting near him on the couch. 

The picture shows both of them, her in his lap and Mingi looking at her with stars in his eyes. 

Good for them. 

“Is that the girl he was friends with forever before they finally realized that they were in love?” 

“Yeah,” she sighs in contempt, looking down at the picture again “I was there the day it happened. I mean, not physically with them, but they left Yunho's party together and I told Wooyoung that it was finally about to happen!”

Gyuri is not a romantic person at all. Her excitement shows you that she really loves them and so you soften at the news that would usually give you and your dry love life a headache “It was the day before you called me to get you out of that awful date.” 

Ah, that also happened back then. You shudder at the memory.

“Tell them I say congrats, babe.” 

“I'm bringing you as my plus one.” 

You laugh, confused “To where?” 

“Their wedding, duh.” 

“They practically just got together,” you remind her, a year is not enough time to propose “And I don't really know them, Gyuri!” 

“They love you,” she assures you as you step out of the shower “I have been speaking about your antisocial ass for years. They can't wait to meet you.” 

“So you've been shit talking behind my back for years? Is that what I'm hearing?” 

She laughs “No, babe, that's Wooyoung's job.” 

Clearing your throat and looking at your friend through the mirror, you try to be as nonchalant as you can when you ask: “Has he… Did he tell you if…” 

“No, Y/N, I have no clue if San is going or not and Wooyoung is actually mad at him at the moment.” 

“Why?” 

She looks at you, sighing “He's been lacking as a friend lately.” 

“Hm.” 

“I hope you're not planning on swooning if you see him. Fuck him, Y/N.” 

“I know…” 

“And by fuck him I mean he doesn't deserve you or your forgiveness.” 

“He didn't do anything to me, Gyuri,” you remind her, shrugging “Not reciprocating my feelings is not a crime so I don't have to forgive him for anything.” 

You can practically feel her starting the San hate train engine, so you step out of the bathroom but her voice follows you. 

“And what about that time he ditched you for Minseo when you asked him to go with you to that medical appointment, huh?” 

“Cut it out, Gyuri…” 

But her head peaks around the corner, into the hall where you're rushing towards your room “Or that time when—” 

“Can't hear you!” Turning to look at her, she gives you an affectionate middle finger and heads back to the bathroom.

Closing the door, you lean into the thin wood and sigh, getting San’s face out of your mind so you can focus on getting ready and actually show up for Wooyoung and Wooyoung only. 

He just got a permanent position after completing his internship at a company that's your company's rival. He's going to crush you and steal clients from you but you are genuinely so happy for him. 

You should've guessed he enjoyed books as much as you did back in highschool. The debates he used to have with Gyuri were not all about flirting with her but also because he has a passion for books. 

And now he's going to work in the same field as you.

You're so proud of your friend. 

As you get ready, you remember the excitement cruising through your body when your boss trusted you enough to give you the first manuscript of a new client so you could edit it. You're sure Wooyoung is going to do better than you, taking into account that he actually went to college for this. 

You didn't. 

You met your boss at the part-time job you got in senior year, when you were trying to distract yourself from all the pain and the horrors of becoming a grown up. She was chatty, got a little too drunk on soju and told you she was starting her own book publishing company. 

When she returned months later after remembering that you told her you loved books and would love to work for as a publisher one day, she offered you a job in her company right after graduating highschool. 

You took it because you didn't think an opportunity like this would show up ever again. 

She was truly a blessing, the kind of person you never really believed in until she taught you all you needed to know about publishing and editing and encouraged you to take online classes during the nights so you could get, at least, a certification on what you do. 

You're proud of yourself too. The opportunity found you in a specific moment of your life where both your heart and your self esteem were destroyed and now you're not the person you used to be. 

Maybe that's why the possibility of facing San makes you so nervous. Collective memories are dangerous because the details never match the ones on the other person's head. 

You know who you were back then but… Are you the same person in San’s head? 

You don't even want to find out. 

Scanning your outfit in the mirror for the last time, you take the shoes you're wearing tonight out of your closet and walk over to the living room. 

Only to find Gyuri laying on the carpet under the coffee table, half dressed and on her phone. 

“You're going to mess up your hair.” 

“I don't care, I'm not going.” 

Sighing, you sit down on the couch and staring at the wood of the table covering her face. 

“What happened now?” 

“The bitch canceled!” 

“Wooyoung?” 

Poking her head out, she frowns at you “No, his first love.” 

“You were his first love.” 

“You know what I'm talking about, Y/N!” 

Laughing at her, you offer her your hand “Get dressed. Who cares if she's not going? He's not going to sulk because he's going to have you and his best friends there.” 

She whines like a child when you pull her up from the floor “I had a plan!” 

“Then make a new one, babe. We're going to be late.” 

She starts to whine again but then stops mid-groan to give you a once over. You shift uncomfortably on your feet, suddenly self-conscious about your appearance for the first time in years. 

“You look really hot…” she tells you and you fake gag at her words “Really pretty. Like a fairy and a smoke show at the same time.” 

You can't possibly look like that when you have such a simple outfit on, floor length high waist black pants and a flowy sleeve top that ties in the middle. It's barely formal but now you're thinking too hard about it. 

Blushing, you wave your hand to dismiss her compliment “Oh, my god. Go and change!” 

She rushes to her room on the opposite end of the hall and you finally breathe, looking down at your choice of fit and wondering if it's too much. 

Gyuri would've told you if that's the case, but either way it haunts your mind in the car on the way there, leg bouncing up and down under your best friend's judging gaze that only softens when you pout at her. 

“They are going to love you, babe. I'm so serious, they've been waiting years to meet you.” 

You nod because, yes, you're concerned that her friend group is not all as welcoming as she paints them to be. 

And you wish your doubts would go away but you're really, really not good at making friends. You're cautious, extremely closed off to new people and not as good with conversation no matter how much confidence you gained over the past years. 

When you walk to the loudest table at the laid back restaurant their friend Seonghwa made the reservation at, you think you won't be able to fit in with everyone else. You feel like an intruder, like Gyuri is supposed to enjoy this part of her life without you here. 

That's why you rejected every invitation they ever made. 

You celebrate birthdays with her, with Woo as well, but it's all very intimate and separate from their social circle, the one that includes the man you haven't fully faced in years. 

But you can't exactly back out now, not when one of them turns to you and seems to light up when they see you. 

“Oh? Is this her?” you recognize Hongjoong from pictures, he's the only one facing you when you approach the table, lowkey hiding behind Gyuri like a child. 

“Who?” 

“Huh?”

San is nowhere to be seen. Thank god. 

Slowly, everyone turns around and you see their faces light up with both delight and surprise. Your heart is pounding, you feel it in your throat, in your eyes, in the heat that colors your cheeks. 

But Gyuri just steps aside and presents you with a smile “This is her!” 

“Oh, Y/N!” Wooyoung gets up, rushing towards you and crashing into your frame with a crushing hug “I'm so glad you're here,” he murmurs into your hair and then turns to his friends, quiet them down “Everyone, this is Y/N, one of my best friends in the entire world.” 

He's such a dramatic human being.

You love him so much. 

Raising your hand, you shyly wave at them “Hi.” 

The entire table erupts with joy. Some of them greet you, some of them are saying that they are happy to be finally meeting you and Wooyoung grabs your arm and plops you down into the seat next to Gyuri, at the edge of the table. 

Laughing, you apologize for not meeting them sooner and then you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders. 

Panic raising, you quickly turn around to see who it is before releasing a shuddering, but calmer, breath. 

“She's a very busy woman, guys. She works for the competition, my competition,” everyone gasps at that but Wooyoung is smiling at you “and she's very good at what she does. Which means she's busy, get off her case,” he puts a glass and a can of beer in front of you “Drink, babe.” 

“Thanks, babe.” You whisper back and he leans in to peck your head before going away. 

Gyuri groans “Stop stealing that from us! It's our thing, Y/N, don't indulge him.” 

“It's his celebratory dinner…” you argue with a laugh that Hongjoong and Mingi follow. 

“Yeah! Can you get off my case tonight, Gyuri?” 

She huffs, wrapping her arms around you “I hate you all.” 

“No you don't!” 

The table laughs and everyone returns to their individual conversations when Woo sits down on his spot. 

There's a few seats left, one besides Mingi and one right in front of you but you don't think too much about it because soon Gyuri gets up to ask Yeosang something and Seonghwa occupies her seat right beside you. 

You think he can sense that you're more shy than you let on, because he doesn't include you in whatever he and Yunho were talking about and waits until he stops talking to him to turn to you. 

“So, you work for a publishing company?” 

The question catches you off guard and you swallow the beer quickly before nodding “Y-yeah, I… Yeah.” 

He chuckles “You're nervous.” 

“I'm just not as good at meeting people as Gyuri is. She usually does the job and I tag along.” 

“I feel like I know you already, though.” He says, leaning back on his chair. 

“Because she talks a lot about me?” he nods “Yeah, she tends to do that.” 

“Wooyoung also talks a lot about you, San too… Sometimes,” your cheeks heat up and he misinterprets what it means “All good things, I promise.” 

You doubt that. 

Your brain gives you a hundred and one possible things San could've said about you. 

For some reason, none of them are good. But you choose to believe the gorgeous, long haired guy in front of you. 

“Well that's good to hear,” you take another sip of your drink before smiling at him “I was sure Woo was trash talking about me.” 

He shakes his head with a smile “He wouldn't dare, he has Gyuri on his ass all the time and I'm sure she would kill him.” 

“I'm sure she would kill him even if he didn't do it.” 

His smile grows wider “That's true,” he says, looking over at them who are, very coincidentally, fighting about something. You let out a sigh and he laughs again before clearing his throat “So, the publishing company. What kind of books do you like to edit the most?” 

Your smile grows wider too. 

For the next hour, you talk to Seonghwa about your job and how you started in it. He asks you about your classes and the challenges that you face on a daily basis and Wooyoung overhears and ends up joining the conversation as well.

You don't even hear footsteps nearing until a voice cuts everyone off. 

“I'm sorry I'm late!” 

“Baby!” Mingi gets up from his seat, but no one else does so he's stuck between the table and his girlfriend. 

“Oh, that's Love, huh?” you ask Seonghwa, Wooyoung too entertained messing with the couple to hear you anyways. 

“Yeah… Is that how Gyuri refers to her?” He frowns.

“Mhm,” you answer, leaning into him like you're about to tell him an important secret “I'm not supposed to call her that, don't tell her.” 

Seonghwa leans in too, pretending to zip his mouth shut and you laugh. 

The girl wiggles her way into the seat reserved for her and everyone lets out a groan when they smooch each other. You can only giggle and the sound draws her attention to you “Y/N?” 

You quickly nod “Yeah, hi, nice to meet you.” 

“Nice to meet you! Finally, I thought Wooyoung and Gyuri had an imaginary friend,” you laugh, shrugging at the joke “Love your outfit, by the way, are those— Oh, San, hi— Are those jellyfish?” 

You want to answer. You truly do, the yes right at the tip of your tongue, but words leave you when you turn your head around and find San already looking at you with wide eyes.

He looks great, he's a bit more muscular than what the pictures show and than the last time that you saw him, his arms hugging the fabric of the dress shirt he's wearing like it was tailored for him and everything. 

How dare he. 

You wonder if his heart is beating as loud as yours is right now. If he's surprised, disappointed or happy to see you at all. 

“Her favorite animal.” He answers for you “Hi, Y/N.” 

“Hi…” you whisper back and it feels like you're in a trance. He doesn't look away but the table quieting down once again snaps you out of it and you turn to the girl with a wide smile that you hope conceals whatever the fuck you're feeling at the moment “I love jellyfishes. Had a phase as a child when I would exclusively talk about them, too,” you chuckle, nervously, reaching for your earrings instinctively “Gyuri gave them to me as a present last Christmas.” 

You definitely overshared just now. From the corner of your eye you catch your best friend getting ready to step in if needed. 

Love looks at you, then at San (who's just standing next to you without uttering a word) and then back at you again, smiling like she just figured something out “Well, I love them.” 

“Thanks…” 

Coughing unnecessarily loud, Wooyoung gets up from his seat “You're late.” 

It takes a second but San tears his gaze away from you to look at his best friend and you take the opportunity to chug down the rest of your beer “Sorry, something came up.” 

Seonghwa turns at that and looks at him as well “You good?” 

“I am. Did you guys already eat? I'm starving.” 

“Nope. We're about to order. Let me get you a drink, come here.” And just like that, he disappears from your view and you almost sigh in relief. 

“Are you good?” Seonghwa asks you next and you reckon he's very observant. But then again, you're not the most gracious human being when you're in San’s presence, so, you figure everyone else noticed your change of mood as well. 

“Yeah, I just… I haven't seen him in a while and I didn't think he was coming. I was surprised, that's all.” 

“I can see that,” his eyes move around your face for some reason, frowning a little bit but then he seems to let it go, getting the menu closer to you “Okay, good, um… I actually made the reservation here because they have the best samgyeopsal in town.”  

“Do they?” 

“Mhm, so…” 

He helps you pick your food and when it's time to order, he moves back to his seat. Gyuri asks you with her eyes if you're okay, you nod and grab her hand under the table with a tiny smile and then everyone is moving around to make space for San and Woo once they return. 

He doesn't sit in front of you. 

Relief floods you and you can finally feel your muscles relax as he is so far away, at the other end of the table and in the same row of seats, so you don't really see him unless you really try. 

Which you don't, so your food goes down easy and the rest of the night as well.

Until everyone but you and Seonghwa move around their seats and he ends up right in your point of view as you do your best to ignore him and focus on his friend. 

Seonghwa asks you about your hobbies, you tell him that you love to write movie essays on websites no one even cares to read and he asks you to show it to him so he can look it up when he gets home.

“And you've always done this? Since highschool?” 

You nod and he beams “I read like the first three lines and it looks really good, Y/N. Is that why you love books so much? Because you're a writer?” 

“I wouldn't consider myself a writer but… Sure, I love to write.” 

“Did you know this?” he turns to San and your smile drops a little. 

“Know what?” 

“Your friend is an excellent writer.” 

“Oh, I know. She, uh… Used to write stories on her notebook instead of paying attention in math class,” he sips on his drink and at the detail you didn't know he knew, you turn to him fully “I used to read over her shoulder sometimes.” 

“She's really good.” Seonghwa is looking at your phone, still reading “Really smart, too.” 

San’s jaw tenses a little and you can't understand why “I know.” He says again. 

His friend is none the wiser, blocking your phone and returning it to you “I like it,” he says, smiling and you blush “The essay.” He clarifies after a second, prompting a laugh out of you that he joins. 

San doesn't laugh, but you don't pay attention to him because Seonghwa is asking you something else. 

When it's time to leave the restaurant, Wooyoung suggests going back to his apartment to milk the get-together as much as you all can.

You all throw your napkins at him in feign disgust at the choice of words but you all accept his proposal either way. 

So now you're sitting on the couch, legs crossed and head on Gyuri’s shoulder while you listen to all of them talk (more like argue) about something that happened at their university last week, their voices drowning the soft music playing out of the tiny speaker resting on the counter. 

San is on the floor, to your right. It's hard to keep your eyes off him when you feel him looking at you when you close your eyes and let the noise fade into the background. It's not like you're able to add something to the conversation anyway and Gyuri seems to be drinking her sorrows (not being able to hook Woo up with the girl she told you about) away. 

Your best friend is slurring her words already, drink in hand and index finger pointing at Jongho accusatively because, apparently, the fight they're talking about was his fault. 

“You don't—” she hiccups “You don't even know why it was your fault and it pisses me off even more, you know?” 

“Okay, let me take that.” Taking the drink from her hand and before she starts complaining you stand up to make your way into the kitchen. 

The sink is full and a mess, so you pour the liquid into it and leave the glass sitting right beside it. Distracted by the dilemma of helping Woo out with the dishes or not, you don't notice someone else also entering the space.

That's why you jump a little when you turn and catch Seonghwa leaning on the wall by the entrance. It startles you enough to laugh the nerves out afterwards and he shakes his head, smiling. 

“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. They're boring me to death with the fight story.” 

You nod, realizing that maybe that's because he doesn't attend the university anymore. He told you he graduated last year “They're too drunk to let it go.” 

“Too drunk to dance to this amazing song, too. Who's playlist is that?” he frowns and you rest your back into the sink, rolling your eyes because he's pretending he doesn't know “Oh! Right, it's mine.” 

“And they just don't know how to appreciate it, huh?” he shrugs and you click your tongue “They're such bad friends, Seonghwa, I truly don't know why you keep them around.” 

“You appreciate it,” it's your turn to frown and he leaves his spot at the wall to walk towards you “You were singing along to it,” he explains and you let out an ah, nodding as he extends his palm to you, clearly inviting you to dance. 

“Oh, I don't… I don't really know how to—” 

“I'll show you.” 

His kind eyes are asking you to trust him. You really, really shouldn't. 

No matter how hard you try to bury the hopeless romantic little girl who decided to have a crush on a guy back in ninth grade, she's still there, begging you to let loose and live a little. 

When you grab Seonghwa’s hand, you think the smile he gives you was worth listening to her. 

You can't even tell the song that's softly playing anymore, a mellow r&b melody reaches your ear but you are not listening. You're focused on him, on the way he spins you around even if it doesn't fit the bit, on the way he laughs softly against your ear when he pulls you close by your hand and then pulls away just as quickly. 

Laughing as well, the spell of this beautiful stranger (because you remind yourself you don't really know him that well) is hard to break. 

Until it does. 

Someone clearing their throat behind you stops you and Seonghwa's feet from moving any further. When the tall, older guy turns you around, you're face to face with San and his scowl. 

“Sorry to interrupt but I need to get started on the dishes. Everyone else is heading out too,” he looks behind you, at the man who's still standing close to you and grabbing your hand “In case you want to ask Mingi for a ride.” 

“They finally stopped fighting!” he fakes excitement, finally letting go of your hand and walking in front of you, blocking San with his body. You chuckle, barely clapping your hands to join the pretense as he's pulling up his phone “Can I ask for your number, Y/N?” 

Blinking a few times, you're not sure if your heart speeds up because he's asking or because you hear San sigh exasperated behind him “S-sure.” 

When you put your information on his phone, he bids you goodbye with a pat on your head and hugs San on his way out the kitchen. 

Now that you two are alone, you suddenly want to run and join Seonghwa. You were doing so, so well. 

Avoiding San like the plague it's much easier when you're safe hiding behind your two best friends. 

Ignoring his stare would be much easier if you weren't stuck into place. 

“I—” 

“You—” 

You both speak over each other and you force out an uncomfortable laugh that he doesn't return. Instead, he motions you to go first while he occupies the space in front of the sink, turning the faucet on. In doing so, he has to grab your waist and move you out of the way which makes you short circuit for a second “I was going to help you with that.” You finally stammer out. 

He lets out what you take as an annoyed chuckle. 

“You seemed busy, I don't know how you would've done it.” 

Ouch. 

Why do you allow his words to cut so deep when you stopped caring about what he does a long time ago? 

The band aid rips, the stitches come undone and all it took him were five seconds to melt your resolve away like it was never there in the first place. 

“I'll… I go get Gyuri so we can leave Woo and you to get to it, then.” 

“Bathroom.” You hear him mutter under his breath as you are taking the final step to leave. 

“Huh?” 

“She's in the bathroom, probably puking her breakfast out,” he looks up at you to give you a tiny smile “You left her alone with Jongho and Woo for five minutes so she got ahold of another drink.” 

“God damnit.” 

Rushing out, you run into everyone else at the door and Mingi has to let go of his very intoxicated girlfriend when she reaches you to give you a hug “Don't be a stranger, Y/N! It was lovely to be around you, hm?” 

The sudden physical contact almost makes you gasp but you cover it up with a shy giggle “O-oh. Yeah, um, lovely to meet you too. All of you.” 

“Sorry about that,” her boyfriend grabs her arms and breaks the hug “She's right, though. Don't be a stranger.” 

You nod once, smiling a little more sincerely now and everyone says bye to you, including Seonghwa, who grabs your hand one last time and gives it a squeeze before closing the front door of the apartment. 

You think you feel your heart skip a tiny bit under all the shit San’s words pulled up to the surface a minute ago. But there's no time to dwell in that: you hear Gyuri opening up the bathroom door before gagging and closing it again with a slam. 

Jesus Christ. 

You two are really getting old. You stopped drinking like an hour ago, when you were starting to feel tipsy after your second beer, and you know she didn't drink as much as she used to maybe four years ago, but the visage that welcomes you when you open the door and find her crouched down in front of the toilet certainly brings back memories of those times. 

“I left you alone for like… five minutes.” Sighing, you lean in to hold her flimsy ponytail and pat her back. 

“I'm good,” she gags again and then holds up her hand to stop you from saying anything else “I'm fine.” 

Smiling, you help her up and she grabs the counter as she's washing away the taste of whatever she ate earlier today and alcohol “Me when I lie…”

“Y/N!” she hits your arm but the movement somehow almost makes her trip. 

“You want to lay down?” 

“Is she okay?” Woo’s head peaks into the bathroom and when he sees his ex, he makes a face. 

“Does she look like she's okay?” you help her out of the bathroom and start heading for Wooyoung's room. 

“Wow, wow— Where do you think you're taking her?” 

“To your room, dumbass!”

“Why mine? San's is literally right there.” He whines, pointing at the door you pass by without a second thought. You don't want to know where his room is or what it looks like at all. 

“Yeah, well, did San get her this drunk?” 

“How was I supposed to know that she was at her almost black-out phase? She never drinks that much in front of me!” he complains again but you're already tugging Gyuri in, who mumbles something incoherent and then flips Wooyoung off “Na Gyuri if you puke on my bed I swear to God!” 

If you didn't know Wooyoung so much, the whining and the attitude would probably make you think he didn't care for her at all. But he's brushing her hair out of her forehead, securing the blanket around her and moving to take her socks off when you reach the door. 

“I'm guessing you're okay with her staying the night?” 

“Of course you guys can stay the night, Y/N.” He says and he stumbles a little to get to you, so you smile and shake your head, about to let him know that you're not staying anywhere near his roommate when he continues “You can come over whenever you like. You know that, right?” 

“I know, Woo.” 

“I barely even see you these days, I… Oh! I forgot!” he points to the end of the hall, towards the kitchen “You guys don't really like each other so maybe don't come over when he's here because I don't want to see you sad!” 

“Lower your voice,” you whisper to him, bringing a hand to his face and patting his cheek a few times to wake him up “Did the alcohol suddenly hit you or something?” you sigh for the umpteenth time “Anyways, you should lay down and I'll get going. I'll come pick her up tomorrow and—” 

“That's such a great idea! Oh, I'm a genius.” 

“You didn't come up with it, Wooyoung.”

“San!” he calls all of the sudden and you wish he was sober enough to read the panic on your features. He seems much, much sober when his best friend starts walking down the hall and stops right beside you “Take Y/N home, please, she's going to give you a bag that you must protect with your life.” 

Said best friend looks at you, his eyebrow arched in a silent question “Gyuri’s stuff.” 

“Ah.”

“Go, go. It's getting late, I'll just… I'll cuddle with my ex until you get home.” 

And she has the nerve to say he doesn't want her back. 

When the door to Wooyoung's room closes and you're left with San on the poorly lit hallway, you make a mental note to never step foot on this place or allow your friends to drink ever again. 

You don't even look at the guy before practically running down the hallway and reaching for your bag. You make sure your phone is secured in your pocket as you slip your shoes on and soon you're grabbing the front door knob and twisting it. 

Keys jingle next to you but, again, you don't spare San a glance. 

“So—” 

“I'll get out of your hair, you don't have to… walk me home or whatever he said.” 

“Y/N, it's late.” 

Turning to him, your smile is as fake as the ones you've been giving him the past couple of years “And I'm a grown up, San, I can walk myself home.” 

“What about Gyuri’s stuff?” 

“She can wear Wooyoung's clothes, it's not like they never shared before. Anyway… Thank you for having me, it was nice to see you. Goodnight.” Your response comes out fast and it sounds as planned out as it actually is, kinda robotic and devoid of actual emotion. 

San can't see through you the way you see through him. It's okay, he won't mind it. 

He probably won't mind that you close his own door on his face either. 

If that door is what you hear when you're making your way down the stairs in order to make a fast escape, you choose to ignore it. 

You have to stop mid-way to compose yourself. You don't know why you feel like crying or why your heart is beating so fast. 

You knew going in that there was a possibility of seeing him tonight. You know how San affects you, so effortless and seemingly like no time has passed at all in between senior year and present day. 

You know all of this already, it's an endless loop that will keep repeating until you either move away or decide to stop agreeing to Wooyoung's plans all together. 

So why is your chest heaving with emotion? Why is nostalgia playing mind tricks with you? Why do you want to turn back and hug him and beg him to turn back time so you can do it all differently now that you know how to look like and what to say to make him love you back? 

Ah, you're definitely not sleeping tonight. So you start distracting yourself while walking down the stairs again. You remind yourself to tell a much sober Wooyoung how proud you are of him. You think about Seonghwa, about his kind eyes and the way he grabbed your hand to dance with him just half an hour ago. You wonder how long it will take you to get home if you jog all the way there. You—

Why the fuck is San outside when you get there? 

In a comedic way, you can see your attempt to distract your mind off of him slipping through your fingers and evaporating in the warm summer night breeze. 

In a realistic way, you're fucking pissed at him for taking the opportunity of a good night sleep away from you. 

You pass him and start jogging like you planned a minute ago. Footsteps follow you until his arm brushes yours and you take a step to the side to stop it from happening again. 

“Go home, Choi San.” 

“Stop fighting it, Y/N. I'm walking you home.” 

“It's a twenty minute walk—” 

“Drop it.” 

You do. And for the first ten minutes, no one utters a word even if the tension feels electric and the street is so quiet so you can hear when his breath accelerates when he jogs to catch up to you whenever you try to leave him behind. 

Isn't that ironic. He was the one who left you behind all those years ago. 

“I didn't know that you danced.” 

He breaks the uncomfortable but safe silence to say that? 

“Well, you saw me dance so I clearly dance when I want to.” 

“You never danced with me.” 

“You never asked me to.” 

He laughs “I'm pretty sure I did on several occasions, Y/N.” 

“Well, you're wrong,” you're getting annoyed. How dare he think he remembers better than you? “It doesn't matter anyway, what's past is past and—” 

“You also gave Hwa your number,” he interrupts, his long legs taking two strides to get in front of you, still walking, facing your direction with his hands on his pockets. 

It's dangerous and stupid, even if the streets are practically empty and the sidewalk barely has any bumps. 

You hope he falls on his pretty face.

“I did.* 

“I don't have your number.” 

“Well, I changed it and you never asked for it, so…” 

“You could've called me or texted me to let me know you did it.” 

He's getting on your nerves.

“San,” you start, taking in a deep breath you hope calms you down “We don't even text anymore, why would you want my number?” 

“Do you like him?” 

“Seonghwa?” you ask, frowning and he nods “Like… As a person?” 

“As a potential love interest.” He clarifies matter-of-factly and you roll your eyes. 

“I met him today, San. Why do you want my number?” 

“Because we're friends?” he offers after a second, shifting so he's walking by your side again. 

“Are we?” you ask, laughing bitterly at that “Because we haven't spoken a word to each other in years.” 

“That's not true.” 

“It is, San.” 

“You… You don't speak to me anymore, so…” 

“Well your girlfriend at the time told me she didn't feel comfortable with me speaking to you anymore,” you sigh “so I didn't and you didn't try to talk to me either.” 

“Well, I want to talk to you now.” 

“And is your new girlfriend aware of that? Is she comfortable with that? Because I don't want anyone telling me what to do anymore and—” 

“Why wouldn't she be comfortable? We're friends, Y/N.” 

“Are we?” you insist, petty, bitter and overall very, very hurt. 

He looks offended at that “I assumed we were?” 

He's getting on your fucking nerves. 

“We stopped being friends the second Minseo asked me to stay away from you because she didn't like me, San.” 

“She’s not in my life anymore—” 

The words are coming out of your mouth without even thinking it through. His demeanor, the way he's somehow reproaching you for whatever he saw between you and his friend, the way he pretends nothing happened between you and him, thinking that you two are still friends. 

“We stopped being friends when you pulled away from me, saw me do the same and did nothing to stop it from happening, San.” 

He stops in his tracks at that. You don't, pushing forward and quickening your step even if your calves burn. 

“Either way,” you speak up “Make sure you tell your girlfriend about wanting my number and then you can ask Seonghwa for it if you want—” 

“She's not my girlfriend anymore!” 

Now that stops you, just a few buildings down from yours, you turn around just to find San closer that you thought he'll be.

“O-oh. I… I didn't know that. I'm sorry.” 

“You didn't do anything to be sorry for.” 

“Still, it must suck so I'm sorry you're going through that.” 

“We didn't want the same things and so we ended it. It is what it is.” 

You nod. 

He walks the few steps separating you and you have to raise your chin a little to look him in the eye for the first time since you left his apartment “I wanted to tell you.” 

“That you broke up with your girlfriend?” 

“Yeah, I don't know why. It happened when I broke up with Minseo too, I just… You're the first person that I thought of calling when it happened. I texted you, too, but the messages didn't go through.” 

You hum at that. 

Why would he even say that? 

You resume your step, not really knowing what to say until you reach the stairs that lead to your building’s entrance. 

“And you didn't ask Woo for my number?” 

He follows you up. 

“I don't think he would've given it to me if I asked.” 

That sounds like an excuse, so you don't let it slide as you enter the code to your building and let yourself inside, San holding the door so he can get in as well “Why would he do that?” 

“Because he…” San sighs, pressing the elevator button “Nevermind. He just wouldn't.”

Frowning, you turn to him “No, now you have to tell me.” 

“It doesn't matter, really—” 

“Tell me, San.” 

He stares for a second and then looks away, like a child, vulnerable and you can't help but soften at that “He didn't like the way I treated you.” 

Eating your words from before, you shake your head “You didn't treat me like anything.” 

The elevator dings and you get inside. 

San follows you. 

“Exactly,” he says, resting his shoulder on the metal “Like you said I just did nothing and—” 

“Well, sometimes that's just what happens,” you want to end this. You want to pack Gyuri’s bag, give it to him and never see him again. 

This conversation hurts, it reopens barely closed wounds and it creates new ones you don't really need when it comes to whatever happened between you two. 

There's only so much a person can handle and it really doesn't help that you're a fool for San. He takes advantage of it, of the fact you can't really push him away at this point and the fact that he wants to have this conversation now instead of four and half years ago? 

Mean. 

He's mean. He's evil. He's… He's staring at you with a spark in his eyes that you recognize too well. 

Hope. 

When you get to your floor, you try to wipe the image away while busying yourself with your keys. Your hands tremble a little but you're able to open the door of your apartment and get in without inviting him. 

He gets in anyway. You take off your shoes as he closes the front door. 

He stays silent as he follows you around the apartment and you don't worry about turning the lights on. You get into Gyuri’s room and start picking out a comfy hangover outfit for your friend. Some clean underwear, sweatpants, two shirts and socks. 

When you drop to the floor, in front of the closet, to look for a bag to stash all of it in, San silently clutches beside you. 

“It shouldn't have happened to us. Never us.” 

You can't take it anymore. 

“San, what is this? What are you doing? I mean, why are we—” 

“I know.” 

“It's been years…”  

“I miss you.” 

He's so mean. But the softness in his tone resembles the one he used all the way back in highschool, when he told you that not being friends with you didn't feel right and you want to cave in right there and then. 

Your heart screams at you to do it, your reason warns you that you both have been through this before and it never ends right. 

You simply can't stay friends with Choi San. 

Your love for him must run too deep, your resentment claws at it and tries to hurt it but it's an immovable force that won't budge even if you try to bury it under the years that have passed, the things he has done. 

Tears gather in your eyes and you try to blink them away as you stare at your best friend's clothes on your lap and try to come up with something to close this path up again, reconstruct the picket fence you built around it the second he broke your heart for the first time. 

“Yeah,” you whisper back, letting the walls fall a little “I miss you too but I don't think I miss whatever version of you you are right now, San.” 

“W-what?”

His shaky voice makes the walls crumble and crash. 

Turning to him, your hand shakes as you place it on top of his “And you don't miss the version of me I am right now. You miss what I was back then, the comfort and the shoulder to cry on I offered you when Arin and you broke up. You miss my availability and the way I didn't press my feelings on you because it didn't matter if I liked you or not, you were my friend first and the guy that I had a crush second but—” you choke up, tears falling down your cheeks even if you don't want them to “I can't do it anymore. I'm not that girl anymore and I won't be there for you now that you and Kyungmi broke up because I can't handle it. I can't, I'm sorry.” 

He doesn't deny any of it.

He stares at you, tears wetting his cheeks as well and it hurts even more this way. You wish you had the strength to hold it together, to treat him like you did on the street a few minutes ago, but you can't. 

There's no way you could ever hate him like you want to. 

“You know…” he starts in a whisper, letting out a humorless chuckle “That's what I used to tell myself too.” 

“Hm?” 

“That you were my friend first and the girl that I had a crush on second.” 

How dare he mutter the words you always wanted to hear, the ones you picture being said in a different setting, the ones that haunted your every waking thought that period of time you doubted your friends, your mom, yourself for even believing Choi San could ever have a crush on you. 

He doesn't get to say them. You want to tell him but the words die on your throat and form a lump that you can't swallow down. 

You don't get to say that. You don't get to say that. 

Your hand drops from his and you look away again only to grab the first bag you find on the closet floor and shove Gyuri’s stuff in it. 

If the lack of response it's what prompts the hurt in his voice the next time he speaks, you don't want to think about it. 

“I wish I didn't. Now it's too late to do something about it, huh?” 

This time the rage comes back with a mask on. Feing settlement for all the what if’s covers you like a blanket on a really hot summer night: unwanted, unnecessary. 

But you can't sleep without it, so you do nothing to push it away. 

“I guess it is.” 

You get up from the floor, leaving the room and wiping your face with bitterness coating your movements as you wait by the door for him to get out. 

When he does and he steps in front of you, you extend the bag and he takes it without missing a beat. 

Voice robotic and words premeditated, you open the front door for him “Thanks for walking me home and taking this back.” 

He leans a little into your space and you don't move away. But just as he did in highschool, he takes in your hitched breath and does nothing more.

“Thanks for letting me talk to you.” 

He didn't give you much of a choice there but it's okay. This is closure, this is the end of your story with Choi San and you convince yourself you're glad that it is. 

“Sure,” you whisper back and he steps outside, turning around to watch you slowly close the door “goodnight, San.” 

He doesn't say it back. 

When the darkness of your apartment engulfs you, that's when you let yourself breakdown. Covering your mouth with your palm, you descend until your knees are against the wood on the floor and closing your eyes you make it a point to let it all out. 

You'll let it all out, drink some water, text Wooyoung and Gyuri to let them know you're safe and go to bed. 

And tomorrow you'll begin your day with the freedom of finally knowing what would've happened if you or San ever took the next step. 

This is fine. This is moving on. This is— 

The doorbell rings. 

Opening the door again, you crease your eyebrows in a silent question that San doesn't care to answer, so you look around the floor in case he forgot something you're missing. You wipe your cheeks and under your eyes as you turn to him again “Did you—” 

Time slows down when he makes it past the threshold and you can't move an inch, gaping at who you once thought was the love of your life “What are you doing, San?” 

“Something about it.” 

“What?” 

“Forgive me,” he asks, breathless and in a murmur, fueling your confusion. And then he's closing the distance, dropping Gyuri’s bag and cupping your face so gently that it hurts “but I'm doing something about it.” 

You stopped dreaming about the possibility of San kissing you that one time you two were on your bed and, another time, you told yourself that, if it ever happened, you wouldn't kiss him back. 

It's too late to kiss him back. 

But sparks fly when he crushes you against the wall and takes in a breath before slothing his mouth against yours like he's been waiting to do this every single day for the past nine years you've known each other. 

There's nothing you can do to conceal the way yearning takes over you, pours out of you, making you breathe into his open mouth and kiss him back like you always wanted to. 

You already know it is a mistake by the time you grab his shirt to keep him in place but does it really matter when this is all you ever wanted? 

Feeling warmth leave your face, you notice the way he desperately crowds your space as his chest bumps into yours, leg claiming its place in between yours, the palm that leaves you pressing against the wall, next to your head. 

The kiss is filled with emotion, with longing and desire and it steals the air out of your lungs tragically and beautifully at the same time. Before, you used to dream about his lips making everything feel right, making you fit in in a world you didn't feel like you belonged to. 

But this kiss drops you into uncharted territory, drags you into the depths of something that should be buried by now, after all this time. It brings the flame back to life and it's dangerous. 

The fact that it feels this way, both marvelous and catastrophic at the same time, makes you so sad. 

Sorrow descends down your face until your mouth is picking it up and your tongue is mixing it with whatever emotion is cruising through San right now. 

You have to know. 

He spent your entire youth and early adulthood keeping it to himself, knowing when to show his true colors and when to hide them, choosing who to do it with and you realize the San that lives in your head is nothing but a figment of what you wanted him to be. 

Because him holding to your waist like it's his only lifeline doesn't fit the San you remember, him telling you he liked you back then doesn't fit the guy who was just your best friend. 

You need to know. 

“San,” brokenly, you speak into his mouth and he pulls away just enough to see your face. Your eyes remain closed, your chest heaving and your lips trembling “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because I want you, Y/N.” 

You push him away, weakly, almost like you don't really mean it because deep down you don't but he steps away like you're asking to. 

Because, of course, your mind scraps the bottom of your resentment to give his words a completely new meaning. 

“You can find another girl to fuck and be your rebound, San,” more tears spill down and you wipe them away in anger but more threat to fall down so you cover your face with your hands and groan, desperate “I can't do this, especially not when I know that you know how bad I wanted you. Y-you know what you do to me San so stop—”

“I want you in my life. I don't— What? I don't want you like a rebound, I… Can we sit down and turn on a light so I can look at you when I say this?” 

His words should be reassuring but they're not, the way you tend to feel unlovable around him coming up to the surface, preventing you from thinking clearly. 

You can also feel his lips on yours still. It's dizzying but you manage to push yourself off the wall and pad around until you hit the switch of the warm light lamp near the couch and the apartment comes to life just like that. 

He takes in the space he's never seen before, walking slowly towards the living room and looking over the bookshelf that screams your name all over it. He smiles a bit as he looks over the book titles and you look away before your heart starts acting up again. 

You can't stay mad at him for long if he's looking through something so personal to you and smiling that fondly at it. It feels even more intimate than the kiss you two just shared. 

Wiping your cheeks once more, you are sure you look a mess but he doesn't seem to mind it once he comes into your point of view, sitting down on the couch, in front of your standing form. He grabs you by your hands until you're sitting next to him, close to him, cologne intoxicating your senses. 

“I told you I liked you when we were in highschool, right?” 

You nod. 

“You seemed surprised but it was dark so I'm not really sure. I thought you knew, everyone knew.” 

Oh, he's a comedian. 

“How would I have known, San? I… Yeri told me you liked me one time, in senior year, but I denied it. Then, my mom told me you seemed to want me in a non-platonic way and I dismissed her as well,” you take in a deep, shaky breath “For me, the thought of you liking me just didn't make sense. You loved Arin and she's… She doesn't look or act like I did back then at all, so how would I have known?” 

You didn't need clues and puzzles and what if’s, you needed words and actions that weren't confusing. You needed him to tell you back then, because telling you right now and kissing you senseless after he broke up with a girl he supposedly was very in love with means nothing but pain. 

“I didn't realize you liked me too,” you make a face, about to tell him off, but he interrupts “I didn't! I thought you liked Yeri and I thought you saw me as the annoying guy who wouldn't leave you alone. I only just realized it a couple years ago, because Woo told me.” 

You raise your eyebrows and mutter under your breath “I'm murdering him tomorrow.” 

The corner of his lips twitch before he shakes his head in dismissal of what you said “I liked you. I really, really liked you and never told a soul because… Well, it's scary when you fall in love, right?” 

“San, you had no problem telling Arin, Minseo or Kyungmi that you liked them.” 

He looks down to the floor, lost in thought and you want to open your mouth to take what you just said into a new direction, but you don't “Maybe that's because I didn't love them the way I love you.” 

Oh. 

Love you? As in… He loves you right now too? 

No way. 

“You didn't love me, San. You don't love me right now either, you… Maybe we both were in love with the idea of love? Maybe that's what happened and—” 

“Quit telling me what I'm feeling, Y/N. You always do that, you always assume you know what I'm feeling but you don't!” 

Raising your voice a little more, you try to get your point across in the worst way possible: by being stubborn “You don't know me! How can you possibly—” 

“I knew you back then, Y/N! And I loved you back then, too!” He looks like wants to say something more but he doesn't, instead, he takes a calming breath and then leans into your space for the third time tonight “And I might not know you now but I want to. That's what I meant when I said that I want you. I want you in my life, I want to know the person you became when we stopped talking, I want to talk to you every single day and I want to hold you and kiss you and be by your side however you want me to, I just… I can't lose you again.” 

His confession renders you speechless and you notice his chest is heaving, going up and down in sync with yours. 

But the way he pulled away from you senior year still hurts, it paints a picture of what's going to happen if you accept this. 

You can't believe his words. 

He must feel lonely and confused, like he did when Arin broke up with him. He must be looking for a shelter you can't provide. 

“And when you find another girl that's more to your liking? What then, San?” 

“There's no one that I love more than you, Y/N and I'm sorry I was shit at proving it back then and I'm sorry that it took so many years for me to come to my senses.” 

He's tearing up and your heart pangs absurdly loud at that. 

“I saw you with Seonghwa earlier today, laughing and dancing and flirting and I thought: Oh, maybe if I didn't waste that much time pretending I'm someone I'm not, that would be me.” 

You stare for a second, you watch a single tear drop down his cheek and then look away. 

“Is that what you were doing? Is that why you pulled away?” 

“Maybe?” he offers and you turn to him again. Is not enough and maybe he can see it in your expression, because he goes on “I mean, I… I thought I wanted Arin. I thought I wanted Minseo. I had people in my life who were really happy to see me with them and I just…” 

“Wanted to keep them happy,” you nod, understanding. He doesn't have to say his mothers name for you to know he's referring to her and maybe his other highschool friends outside of Wooyoung “Were you pretending with me as well?” 

“No,” he answers right away “You and Woo were the only ones who saw me for who I really was back then.” 

“And why do you think you love me now, San?” you ask, deflating against the couch and ignoring the way your heart soars at his quick response.

“Because I never stopped,” he stammers out and then clears his throat “Because I looked for you in Minseo and Kyungmi and I wondered for years why they couldn't make me feel the same way. And I told myself I didn't need to feel the same way and that I deserved to wonder for the rest of my days but seeing you tonight? I can't.” 

Straightening your spine, the pained look you sent in his direction is not intentional but it prompts him to lean closer and closer until he's cupping your cheek again. 

“I can't keep wondering.” His voice is a sweet whisper, a siren song that draws you in until your forehead is resting against his. 

All these years, you were so self-focused on changing to a better version of who he used to know, learning from your mistakes and closing off to the opportunity of letting him prove himself a better man, you forgot that time passed for him too. He’s telling you he changed, too. 

Imagination is a safe space. Is where you hide, where desire can take its wings and fly high without hurting you too much. Make belief has rescued you before but this? The way his nose nuzzles softly into yours and your breaths tangle? This is very real. And reality is prone to hurt you. 

But the want you feel is undeniable. The way your entire being wants to cave in and give him an opportunity is suffocating, it makes you choke out a sob that he follows with one of his own. 

You kiss him, softly at the beginning, but his hands on you tighten and you let yourself get lost in the way they go down your neck and your arms, caressing you softly until they reach your waist and pull you into his lap. 

Pulling away, you grab his chin with two fingers and force his teary eyes to snap open, searching for an answer on yours.

“If you hurt me,” you start, breathless “If you're mocking me, if you're using me to get over Kyungmi, if you are pulling me back in to break my heart again, Choi San, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“I won't do that to you ever again, Y/N,” he returns softly “I love you, I'm sorry if I ever hurt you but I love you.” 

Others would argue that it is pathetic how quickly you forgive him. But then again, you could never be mad at San. 

You were only mad at yourself for how everything turned out. 

“I love you too, Sannie.” 

Saying something never felt so freeing before. 

“Oh, Y/N…” you can see the way relief washes his worries away “Y/N…” he starts to say but then leans in to kiss you again and never finishes his words. 

You don't mind it. 

Pouring out all the pent up affection you pretended to bury for years, you explore his mouth and carve into your memory the way he feels. The way he sighs into it when your tongue brushes his, the way he pulls you in closer when your fingers reach the nape of his neck and pull on his hair there, hands splayed on your back so he can keep you in place as he leans down and places you against the worn out couch. 

He maps you out, hands going down your waist in a familiar feeling that brings back that memory of you two laying down on your bed. Only this time, he's actually touching you with a purpose. This time, you two have made up your minds and your limbs are tangled in a way you can feel all of him pressing up against you. 

It starts to get stuffy, the space on the couch not nearly enough to have him the way you want to. Soon, you're both standing up, mouths still moving against each other and hands roaming everywhere until you're undoing the buttons on his shirt. 

He pulls away to fully take it off, eyes never leaving yours, dropping the shirt to the ground, next to the couch and then he's on you again, making your back crash into the wall as he works the knots keeping your blouse together. 

He walks you through the hall, stopping only to take your top off and then he's walking you to a room that has a familiar scent that doesn't belong to you.

“Wrong room, wrong room,” you say into his lips and he laughs, looking to your surroundings “Mine’s over there.” you point to the other end of the hall, taking his hand and pulling him towards it. 

You don't make it far before he's yanking you towards him again. He looks down, taking your body in and you do the same, his firm and defined stomach a sight you never thought you would be able to see. 

“You're so beautiful,” he whispers, backing you against the wall again and kissing your cheek “So, so beautiful.” 

Turning your head to chase his mouth, he lets out a heavy sigh when his lips trail a path to your neck and murmurs against the skin there “I never told you how beautiful I found you before but you're so perfect, baby.” 

“I always thought I wasn't your type, San,” you let out a noise when he grabs your hips and pulls you forward, crashing his into yours “Fuck.” 

“And I always thought you were too much for me, too smart,” he kisses his way back up, focusing on your jaw and chin until he's kissing your cheek again “too pretty,” he moves to your ear, pecking right under it and you hold him closer “too good for me.” 

It doesn't really matter that this is all new to you, the way he's speaking, the tenor of his voice, the things he's saying… It sparks something familiar in you. You're pulling his hair back to make him look at you, a moan slipping out of his lips at that. 

You want to hear it again. 

He's smiling at your reaction, hand tightening on his locks.

However, that smile drops when he seems to recognize the gleam in your eyes. 

You gather up courage, feeling empowered by the way his hooded eyes darken but wait patiently for you to speak your mind. 

“Maybe I'm too good for you now, too,” you lean in, your lips softly tracing his “Maybe you should prove to me that you deserve me, San.” 

It's a dare. One that he seems to like a lot because his eyes sparkle with the same fire they used to back in the day. 

“Oh, I'll prove it to you, alright.” He whispers, panting when you let go of his hair and he leans into you to kiss your lips briefly before pulling away again.

His hand tilts your head back and you rest it against the cold wall, his fingers touch your bottom lip before going down and down and down until they rest against the seam of your pants, unbuttoning them in one swift movement. 

Going back up, his nails softly dig into your skin and you preen, taking the soft sting of his ministrations like you two have done this a million times before.  

His mouth is on yours again, his hands are pulling you off the wall and into your room until you two land on your mattress, a moan spilling out of your lips when he sloths his knee in between your legs and pulls them apart with expertise. 

You don't have the mind to break down what that means. 

Opening your eyes when he kisses down your neck again, you notice your room is barely lit by the street lights outside, curtains pulled open and windows closed but, this way, you can see the way San kisses between your breasts and your belly, catching his eyes when he looks up to measure your reaction. 

You sigh, already feeling some sort of build up going on down there and he hasn't even touched you properly yet. 

You don't even want to think about how wet you actually are. 

He leans back, open palms going down your legs slowly until they reach your feet. It tickles and you can't help but let out a giggle that he joins short after, his gaze never losing the edge because of it, though. 

“San…” 

He guides your hips up so he can take off your pants and you sigh when his hands return, raising your leg up “I missed your laugh,” he says low, attaching his lips to your calf “I miss being the one making you laugh too.” 

You feel like crying again but then he's letting your leg down and grabbing the other one to give it the same treatment, so your tears can wait. 

This time, he moves upwards till his mouth nears your clothed center and your breath hitches. 

Yeah, you can definitely cry later.

“You want me to prove to you how much I want you, Y/N?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting your mound now “How much I love you?” 

“San, p-please…” 

“Fuck, look at you.” He sounds like he's too lost in the heat of the moment and you're kind of grateful, because the moan you let out when his fingers hook on your underwear and pull them to the side to expose your pussy to his hungry eyes is loud. 

When he kisses you right where you need him, you let out another moan. And when he parts your folds to lick a stripe up to your clit, you curse him under your breath until he's laughing against you softly, the vibrations accumulating heat on your belly. 

He doesn't tease you much longer and you look down at him just to catch the moment his self control slips, eating you out like a man starved while his hand stays on your hip to hold you down and keep you underwear from interrupting his feast. 

“This is like,” he dives in again for a few seconds and you grab the sheets beneath you “All my fantasies coming to life but better.” 

He's so chatty during this and the only thing you can do is stammer a yeah? and pray for it to reach his ears.

“Mhm,” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue and your legs shake “It tastes even better than what I dreamed, too.” 

The heat of his mouth leaves you, lips spreading your wetness through your stomach until he fully reaches your face, your eyes closed and lips already waiting for him. 

Tongue caressing yours, your hands trail down his torso and focus on getting his pants off. You're shaking with excitement so it proves to be more difficult than you imagined at first but he helps you in unbuckling his belt. 

Once the piece of clothing is on the floor (or the bed, you're not really paying attention to where it lands), you don't waste time in feeling him up through his boxers. 

The hiss you get in return makes you smile. 

Bringing your lips to his neck, you suckle on this pulse point and gain another pleased noise before grazing your teeth against skin and moving to his collarbone next.

In a way, you get what he means. If he truly was pining over you the way you were pining over him, the thought of exploring his tan skin and making him moan feels like a dream. 

So you kiss him again in order to make it all last longer. 

The minutes pass between the both of you, softly making out and figuring out what gets both of you going, discarding your underwear in the process. 

You realize your moans make San’s cock twitch against your leg and he seems to notice the way your hips buck up everytime his hands handle you more roughly. 

After a few minutes of just this, you feel his hand making its way down again and the pads of his fingers circle your clit until you're grasping the sheets again. He gathers your arousal and then enters one finger slowly and when it slides in and out with ease, he enters the next one. 

There's really not much prepping he needs to do, already soft and compliant under him, you relax into his comfortable touch before you're aching for something else. And your mouth is preoccupied with his, so you do something else to catch his attention. 

Hands caressing his back, you let them drop to his ass with a soft smack that wins you a soft huff on amusement and then a whine when you move his hips towards yours. 

“Condom?” 

You shake your head “I'm clean and I have an implant.” 

“Oh?” he smirks, about to tease you but you squeeze his butt again and he moans “Fuck. I'm clean too.” 

“Good,” you whisper against his cheek, laughing as he arranges his position. 

And he might've been touching you all this time, kissing you until your mind emptied and your lips are all swollen up, but the look on his eyes when he slowly enters you is what might drive you over the edge. 

Grabbing your hands, he pins them on the side of your head as he moves, dropping his head down with a groan as you take him in, nose touching yours and moth whispering sweet things you can't quite pick up. 

He feels so good. 

This all feels way too good to be real. 

In the cloud you're at, you allow yourself to dream a little more before the reality of what your confessions mean dawns on you. 

For now, you allow San to make love to you. Sweetly, slowly and with a passion you never were lucky enough to encounter before. 

Maybe it's because your previous lovers didn't have your heart the way San does. 

He rams his hips into yours hard, closing his eyes and resting his warm cheek against yours, kissing your face inch by inch when you accompany his movements with your own. 

When his pace picks up, you hug him close and secure your legs around his hips as you moan. 

“Y-yes, fuck.” 

“Like that?” he repeats the movement from before, pulling out and then in with such force it rocks the entire bed. 

“Just like that, baby, fuck.” 

“God, you sound so good,” you smile a little, forehead resting on his shoulder before your head falls down against your pillow again “I love you,” he repeats against your lips, letting your hands go to cup your face with both of his again “I love you so much.” 

Teetering over the edge, you feel happy tears stinging in your eyes. Though closed, you can feel San’s stare on you, on your face, on the way you react to his sweet words and relentless pace. 

You say it back in a whisper and he repeats it again and again and again until you're both coming and tears are spilling down your cheeks. 

He kisses them away. 

You wipe his with trembling fingers as you come down, having trouble breathing from everything that just happened. 

You don't feel suffocated anymore, you feel like you've been freed. Like this was supposed to happen at some point and you two finally got around to it. 

“I love you,” he says once more before slipping out of you with a parting kiss. 

Holy shit. 

When San gets up from the bed and you point him to the bathroom, down the hallway, you're left with a sticky mess in between your legs and a lot to think about but you settle on four things. 

San just made love to you. There's no way that was just sex. 

There's also no way you're coming back from this. 

Gyuri is probably going to kill you. 

And that, obviously, your feelings for San never left. You feel the familiar warmth of them spreading through your post-orgasmic state. They're there, mocking you, asking you who the fuck you thought you were for pushing them away. 

He returns, toilet paper in his hands before leaning in and cleaning you up, lips immediately finding home on your skin as he does. 

You both giggle at that.

You probably need to shower but you've been crying and there's no way you're leaving this bed tonight. He throws the paper away on your bedroom’s trashcan and then crashes into the bed next to you, still naked, still looking at you with so much love you're wondering what stopped you from seeing it was there before. 

Taking his hand, you bring it to his lip and give his knuckles a peck “That was really good.” 

“It was.” 

“I can't believe we actually just did that…” 

He smiles and what he says next shocks you even more than his confession “I want to take you out.” 

“San… You just came inside me not even ten minutes ago.” 

“And?” you laugh and he shakes his head, leaning into your space again “I spent many years doing everything wrong, let me do it the right way.” 

“Making love to me one time and then taking me out on a date is not the right way, sir.” 

He nuzzles your cheek with his nose and you let out a pleased sigh “Who said it was just one time, huh?” Attacking your neck with his lips again, you push him away with a laugh. 

“Oh, come on!” 

He laughs as well “Give me ten minutes and I'll make it two!” 

San makes love to you two more times. And by four in the morning, you're snuggled into his arms and sleeping soundly. 

When you wake up and find the space next to you empty, you think it was all a dream. Your naked form begs to differ and you quickly put the t-shirt you usually wear to bed on and your panties underneath it to go out and face the feelings of your actions fighting with the blender in the kitchen. 

“How do you two live with this stupid thing?” 

“We don't,” you answer, startling him “We don't use it. What are you trying to make?” 

San’s shirtless, wearing his pants and his hair messy. Looking back at the living room clock, you see it's just five past ten. 

Smiling as he approaches you, you forget you must look a mess too when he pecks your lips and barely pulls away “Good morning, beautiful.” 

You pretend to cringe at that, pulling away “Oh, God. Morning, dumbass.” 

“You like it, you're blushing,” he points out and the pink on your cheek deepens as he's going back to the blender “Does anything work here?” 

“The microwave,” you shrug “And the stove. Were you trying to make yourself a…” you look over the ingredients he has pulled out of your fridge “Green juice?” 

“I was trying to make both of us a green juice,” he corrects and your heart skips at the immediate domestic attitude he has with you “But now I can tell neither of you drink anything like it, hm? I'm buying you a blender.” 

“Please don't.” 

“Why?” 

“Why do you think that one is broken?” 

He hums, huffing out a laugh seconds later and you walk over to him, unsure on how to approach him even though what you did yesterday night and earlier this morning didn't allow your shyness to step in. 

Now you're feeling it. 

He can tell, because he stops fighting with the steel appliances to grab your waist and pull you close “I wanted to make you breakfast.” 

“We can make breakfast together and I can order your green juice,” you compromise and he nods, but he doesn't let you go “And later we can go out on that date you promised me yesterday and we can go over what we're going to tell the two idiots.” 

His smile drops. 

“Oh, fuck.” 

Grimacing, you nod “It was the second thing I thought about after waking up.” 

“What was the first?” 

“Oh, I was trying to remember if you ever asked me to dance before,” he nods with a smile “Guess what? You didn't.” 

He fake gasps at that “I did!” 

“No, you didn't!” 

“Babe, yes I did,” he insists and you laugh, which prompts him to wrap his hands around you tighter when you try to get away from him “It was when—” 

“Oh. My. God. I'm going to be sick again.” 

Now when the fuck did Gyuri come back. 

And why is Wooyoung with her too, jaw slack as he watches both of you pull away from each other and create a safe distance that doesn't help whatever your best friends just saw. 

“It worked?” he asks and you can barely hear him until he hollers like a crazy person “Oh, it worked! I am a genius!” 

“Wooyoung, hold me! I'm going to kill them!” Gyuri looks like she's about to launch towards you at any second now, so you close your eyes and accept your fate. But nothing happens “Wait— What worked?” 

When you open them again, San is hiding behind you and Gyuri’s back is to both of you as she looks at Wooyoung with, what you assume, murderous intentions. 

“Gyuri, let's talk about this,” the black haired guy puts his hands up “You were too drunk to discuss it so I made the choice of— Gyuri, no!” 

You burst into laughter when she starts chasing him around the apartment and San giggles as well, only more nervous than delighted by their little cat and mouse game. 

He's probably sensing he's next on her hit list. 

As if you would let anything happen to him in the first place. 

“Stop, stop! I'm sorry, please leave me alone!” you hear Wooyoung’s voice echoing through your hall and in a second he's entering the kitchen, rounding you and San “I'm so happy for you guys, really, this was meant to happ— Stop!” He cries when Gyur catches onto him and yanks his hair to stop him from running.  

“Y/N,” she starts, chest heaving and you take a step back, crashing into San’s chest. He holds onto you only to push you a little and protect himself from the fury of your best friend “When I told you fuck him I didn't meant this!” 

“I know.” 

Wooyoung whines but he can't get away from her grasp so he just accepts it and pouts like a child. 

“A-and you!” She points towards the guy resting his chin on your shoulder “How dare you! If this is something casual for you then—” 

“I love her.” He defends himself quickly and your heart all but stops at that. 

“You do?” Wooyoung coos, amazed at his best friend’s confession. 

Gyuri's anger falters at that. 

“You… You do?” 

“And I love him,” you let out in a shy whisper, smiling a bit “But you already knew that.” 

“Of course I already knew that, bitch, I am your other half,” she makes a point to stare at San as she says it, letting Wooyoung go and he massages the part of his scalp that was targeted by his ex “Don't forget that.” 

“Y-yes ma'am.” 

You laugh again and Woo joins the embrace, eyeing you both expectantly and rolling his eyes when neither of you say anything to him “Well, you are so welcome guys. What are we having for breakfast?” 

You and San don't get to go out on that date. 

But when you do, he asks you to be his girlfriend the next day. 

And when you say yes he almost breaks down in excited tears.

Eventually, even Gyuri comes around and threatens him into treating you right, which means he earned her seal of approval. 

You delete the document on your laptop when you find it a month into being his girlfriend and, instead, start drafting your new beginning on it, in first person this time because the story doesn't feel like it belongs to someone else now.

The first line read as it follows: 

How did I ever think San and I could be just friends? 

If you read all the way down here: THANK YOU SO MUCH. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated!

© jensthwa, 2024.

[ybklix]

KINKTOBER! ⁺˚⋆｡✧

˚‧｡⋆ SKZ ‘24, the masterlist:

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

OT8 INTRO: LUST

synopsis: Lee Minho plans a little getaway with his closest friends, their wives, and you, his girlfriend and most adored and prized possession, right after he intentionally reads your private diary and leaves him wandering with your writing about something particular.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦ ꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦

☾ BANG CHAN ☽˚.⋆

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE

synopsis: As part of a college assignment, you interview a peculiar doctor about his success and long career, but then he starts telling you about the odd and unbelievable lifestyle he used to lead that got him there, claiming to be something you find funny at first, but then you get caught up in the details, causing tension and questioning reality. pairing: vampire!chrisbahng x inexperiencedfem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: corruption kink, breeding, choking, +more...

☾ LEE KNOW ☽˚.⋆

somebody’s watching me

synopsis: Meeting a mysterious and secretive man thrills every part of you, but unknowingly, he watches you from his window on a lonely night, not realizing that it will ignite a new behavior in him. pairing: lee minho x camgirl!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: voyeurism, sex toys, perv tendencies, +more...

☾ CHANGBIN ☽˚.⋆

like lovers do

synopsis: Your new boss is quite interesting, so the night lends itself to a few drinks and the discovery of never-before-explored bodies in such an inappropriate but magnetic act. pairing: ceo!seochangbin x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: deepthroat, dom/sub tendencies, sir kink, +more...

☾ HYUNJIN ☽˚.⋆

ART DECO

synopsis: An eccentric and peculiar artist, whose art is well known for its captivating and erotic method, is fascinated by you, who naively thought you just accepted a small job for him. pairing: dom!hyunjin x sub!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: shibari ropeplay, bdsm, +more...

☾ HAN ☽˚.⋆

MIDNIGHT SHADOWS october 18th

synopsis: After discovering his wife's infidelity, a sorrowful man seeks fun and solace on a peculiar and dark night, whose twisted games of fate lead him to meet you, in such a strange way, in what seems to be a forbidden place where he shouldn't be. pairing: han jisung x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: amaurophilia, facefucking, impact play, +more...

☾ FELIX ☽˚.⋆

nocturnal whispers october 21st

synopsis: On a long and tedious night, you and your boyfriend decide to spend some time, openly trying new things. pairing: lee felix x fem!femreader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: roleplay, sex toys, dreg kink, +more...

☾ SEUNGMIN ☽˚.⋆

unspoken storm october 25th

synopsis: On an unfortunate night of heavy rain you find yourself stuck without being able to move forward, until a kind man sees you and offers to give you lodging until the rain stops but he turns out to be your teacher; once being alone leads you to get to know each other better in such a specific way, exploring dangerous territories and forbidden fantasies. pairing: kim seungmin x fem!reader ˚˖𓍢ִ໋ 🦇 ✧˚.🔮 cw: spanking, corruption kink, +more...

☾ I.N. ☽˚.⋆

hotel california october 28th

synopsis: A young and naive Jeongin stays for a few days in a mysterious hotel with a certain strange vibe out of necessity but decides to stay after meeting you and in a way, until he has you, but everyone around him seems to keep secrets. pairing: rockstar!yangjeongin x fem!reader ★ ₊ .˙⊹.🕯️˚˖ cw: roleplay, chocking, +more...

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

OT8: Season of the witch october 31st

⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★ ⁺˚⋆｡✧ ° ₊ ☆⋆｡°‧★

INTERLUDES🕸️

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

BAHNG CHAN

⟶ pretty when you cry

⟶ in the night

⟶ teacher’s pet

⟶ dollhouse

⟶ playground

⟶ big bad wolf

⟶ be my daddy

⟶ sweater weather

⟶ little red riding hood

⟶ enjoy the ride

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

LEE MINHO

⟶ the uninvited

⟶ sad girl

⟶ behind closed doors

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

SEO CHANGBIN

⟶ asylum

⟶ onsen

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

HWANG HYUNJIN

⟶ lost muse ₊

⟶ ultraviolence

⟶ night time, my time

⟶ allure

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

HAN JISUNG

⟶ doll parts

⟶ don’t talk to strangers

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

LEE FELIX

⟶ trick or treat!

⟶ sinner

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

KIM SEUNGMIN

⟶ illicit affairs

⟶ veil of innocence

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

YANG JEONGIN

⟶ a little death

⟶ gods & monsters

⊹　 ︶︶　 ୨୧　 ︶︶　 ⊹

OT8 / fem!reader x specific members:

⟶ LIAR (ot8)

⟶ burning desire (ot8 - 3 part series)

⟶ fight club (chan & minho)

⟶ I put a spell on you (han, felix, seungmin)

⟶ intruders (han & felix)

🎃 ̊ ̟ ꒷ ꒦ 🦇 ꒦ ꒷ ̟ ̊ 🎃

happy fall and spooky season⭒✧˖°.🕷 ๋࣭ ⭑✮₊ ⊹

playlist (i'm still working on it)

[mattybsgroupie]

nerd sub!matt headcanons

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: thank you so much for the request, anon! i love nerd sub!matt so much i already have two fica about him, homework and assignment. also sorry for the delayed posts but enjoy! ♡

♡⊹𑄽୧

nerd sub!matt who … sits in the first row, mostly because he can’t see properly

nerd sub!matt who … is a teacher’s pet

nerd sub!matt who … carries books wherever he goes

nerd sub!matt who … loves videogames but doesn’t have anyone to play with him

nerd sub!matt who … is super smart

nerd sub!matt who … always scores the highest grades

nerd sub!matt who … is incredibly shy and blushes when a girl comes talk to him

nerd sub!matt who … quietly watches your seminar

nerd sub!matt who … wants to be paired with you in the next projects

nerd sub!matt who … invites you over to study

♡⊹𑄽୧

nerd sub!matt who … keeps squirming around while sitting

nerd sub!matt who … can’t focus on the subject because he’s staring at you

nerd sub!matt who … gets sweaty and flushed when you look at him

nerd sub!matt who … would rather die than do the first move

nerd sub!matt who … lets out a long sigh when you finally kiss him

nerd sub!matt who … is a whimpering mess as soon as it gets more heated

nerd sub!matt who … gets hard with the slightest touch

nerd sub!matt who … is obviously a virgin

nerd sub!matt who … won’t ask for anything cause he’s trying to be a good boy

nerd sub!matt who … cries when he finishes

♡⊹𑄽୧

i need him. that’s all. btw keep sending more hc requests im loving this!!!

[itsascreambaby96]

Could you please write a poly!ghostface X reader friends to lovers smut (w/ some fluff)

I had so much fun with this! Thank you so much for the request! I hope you enjoy it! Please leave feedback🩷

(A/N: Header by me)

Warnings: SMUT! 18+, mdni. fem!reader. Oral both female and male recieving. Name calling, pet names, p in v sex. No use if condom(be responsible please, life isn't fanfiction). Drinking. Everyone in this fic is over 18. if I missed anything please let me know.

Pairing: Stu Macher x fem!reader x Billy Loomis

Word count: 6.7k

Just the three of us

You and Stu have been best friends since first grade. You were paired to sit together. Initially you thought he was pretty annoying. Always talking, not paying much attention and messing up your work. Little you was really ready to throw hands. Stu loved annoying you! He thought that was the best way to make friends. Taking away the pens you needed to finish your drawing in art class. Or copying your maths notes. Always asking you ridiculous questions that he knew you couldn't answer. He thought it funny how your little face scrunched up. Little Stu was a menace. But he didn't take too kindly to other kids picking on you. It almost never happened.

But when one of the older boys pushed you into the dirt one day, with your new dress, which he knew was new because he's never seen you wear it before and you told him so and were so happy about it, it was over. He didn't care that the boy was older than him, and slightly taller, he threw himself at the boy and a fight broke loose. The teacher pulled them apart. Stu was dirty but he didn't care. All he cared for was you. So once the teacher's were done with their chiding he ran to look for you. He didn't have to go very far as you were waiting for him. He thought you would snap at him but you gave him the biggest hug you could. Stu didn't know it yet but his heart skipped a beat and would do so ever since when you hugged him. Ever since then the two of you have been inseparable. He still annoyed you during classes but now you knew that he didn't mean bad by it and always had a smart comeback to his weird questions. No one could come between the two of you. 

Or so you thought. Once you two entered middle school Stu met a new friend. His name was Billy. Suddenly Stu spent every minute with him. You hated it. You tried confronting Stu but he said that you made stuff up. Of course it hurt but maybe he was right? You gave him some space, which seemed to work in your favour as you made some other friends along the way. Girl friends, which you really didn't have before. Stu hated to see that. He was supposed to be your best friend. Suddenly he kept inviting you over again, so much so that you didn't spend so much time with your girl friends anymore. You tried to make time for them but it wasn't nearly enough. Most of them didn't want to hang out with you anymore. The only real girl friend you had was Tatum. She had a lot of friends so she never minded when you didn't have time, but she was also happy when you did. 

The other down side with Stu inviting you over again was that Billy was there as well. You still didn't like him the first few times you came around. It wasn't like he was unfriendly or anything, just the fact that he stole your best friend. Stu must have talked to Billy cause the boy always made sure to be at his best behaviour around you. Making sure you started to like him. You don't really remember how it happened but suddenly it wasn't just you and Stu anymore but you, Stu and Billy. You really grew fond of Billy, you even developed a little crush on the boy at one point. Of course you never told him or Stu, for many reasons. One because you knew he didn't feel the same and two Stu would make fun of you. You also didn't want to ruin your little friend group. So you ignored it, which worked very well.

Until the summer before you guys started High School. You guys were 15 and at the Lake in the woods. You had bought a new bikini for the occasion. Stu's eyes widened as you took off your summer dress to reveal the new swimwear you bought. He was checking you out, and when he noticed his swim trunks getting tighter, he jumped into the lake immediately. He didn't care that it was cold as hell, on the contrary it helped him. When he came back up to the surface he heard your laugh and gave you his usual wide grin in return. He also noticed Billy checking you out, more subtle than him. He felt a little jealous but shook his head. That was silly. 

You guys had an amazing day at the lake, several water fights and dunking each other, the previous thoughts all gone. It was late but the sun was still up. You were dry again and laughing with your boys. You don't know how it came up but they were telling you about their first kisses. To be honest you felt a little jealous but you thought that was because you didn't have your first kiss yet. It was a little embarrassing really, though you knew there was nothing wrong with it but you kind of felt left out of a secret club, that your best friends already joined without you. You had gotten really quiet as Stu tells the story of how he had "a real makeout session" with Stacy from your Math class. Billy noticed your lack of attention and nudged you softly, asking you what's wrong with you. That also got Stu's attention. Your face grew hot as now both Stu and Billy were looking at you. You averted your gaze and told them that you didn't have your first kiss yet. Billy shrugged his shoulders.

"That's not that bad. It's not like it's a big deal." 

But that didn't really convince you. 

"If it bothers you so much one of us could kiss ya." That got your attention and you looked at Stu. 

"You are making fun of me!" 

"Babes you know I would never!"

You just raise an eyebrow at that. 

"Fine I do. But not right now. I am dead serious! Cross my heart!" He was doing the cross over his heart trying to look serious, but his eyes were full of mischief. You looked over to Billy. 

"I mean… he is not wrong. If you really wanna."

That took you even more by surprise. You thought Billy would try to talk Stu out of it but you were wrong. He was also thinking this idea was great. You contemplated it. What would be the harm right? It's just a kiss. It's not like that would change anything. Right? Right. 

"Alright."

"Really?" Stu asked, his face lit up like a childs on christmas. 

"Yeah. I mean it's just a kiss right?"

"Yeah nothing special about it." Billy said.

"So who do you want to be your first?" Stu wiggled his eyebrows. 

Your face grew hot again. Of course they were both attractive. And you had a crush on Billy once. But Stu was your best friend, you knew him longer. This gave you anxiety already. You didn't want it to be awkward with either one of them. But you also wanted this to be over. And who knows how much longer you'd have to go without kissing. You didn't want to be a bloody amateur when you got your first boyfriend.

So you decided. You stood up only to sit down right in front of Stu, who gave you a big smile. Little did you know that jealousy bubbled up in Billy at that. Though he didn't know who he was more jealous of, you or Stu. He shook his head.

"What do I do with my hands?"

"Whatever you want. You can put them around my neck or one on my face. Or you can just leave them at your side. Though that would be kinda awkward."

You nodded and so you shyly put your hands on Stu's shoulders, softly gripping them.

Your nerves were acting up as Stu slowly scooted a little closer and his face was inches from your own. You closed your eyes as you felt your lips connect. His lips were a little chapped but it didn't feel unpleasant. Then he started to move his lips, you tried to copy his movements. It wasn't perfect by any means, even a little sloppy, but you actually enjoyed yourself. You were clinging to Stu as he somehow managed to slip his tongue into your mouth and you let out a little squeak, feeling Stu grin against your lips. All too soon he broke the kiss. With your eyes still closed you tried to follow his lips. Stu let out a chuckle at that and you could hear Billy clear his throat. That snapped you out of your little trance, your face incredibly hot. You looked over to Billy.

"Wanna show me what you learned?" 

Your eyes widened a little at that but you nodded nonetheless. He switched places with Stu real quick, Stu taking off his hands from your hips which you didn't even know were there. You already missed them. But they were replaced with Billy's. A little smaller than Stu's, but just as pleasantly warm. You wrapped your arms around his neck and Billy grinned, squeezing your hips a little.

"Ready?"

You nodded, smiling. Closing your eyes again as he closed the space between you two and his lips met yours. His lips were softer than Stu's, the kiss already feeling different than Stu's too. Less sloppy, as if Billy really knew what he was doing. He was easily dominating that kiss. You could really get used to kissing them. Scraping together every ounce of confidence you had you let your tongue slip inside his mouth, teasing his tongue with yours, just like you felt Stu do to you just moments ago. You could feel Billy letting out a soft sigh. Unbeknownst to you Stu was watching you two like a hawk. He wished he could join the two of you. You were getting a little lost in the feeling, your heart beating out of your chest. But Billy decided that this was long enough and broke the kiss. Your eyes fluttered open and you looked at Billy, his eyes never sucked you in more.

"I think you will be good now."

"Yeah, your future boyfriend will be really lucky." There was a slight edge to Stu's voice. But you couldn't figure out why. 

After that, conversation resumed as normal and you were convinced that was the end of that. And it was. Nothing seemed to have changed and after the summer you guys went to highschool. Still the best of friends. Both Billy and Stu started dating a few girls here and there during that time. And even you went on a few dates but you were never really in love with them. They always seemed to have a problem with how close you were with Billy and Stu. More often than not they cheered you up after another guy dumped you. You were very grateful for that. You of course were there for them too. Stu being dumped by Casey Becker was really hard on him. You had a sleepover with him the whole weekend, with Billy showing up as well in the middle of the night. As much as Stu was upset it was one of the best weekends in a long time. You guys were watching movies all night, stuffing your face with Junk Food and sweets, and talking a lot. It felt like you grew closer to them again. While you guys were sleeping you were squished between them, Stu in front of you and Billy pressed against your back. It made you feel all warm inside and you realised that you might be feeling more for your best friends than you were supposed to. You knew nothing would happen so you were just happy with what you've got.

Now it was your 18th Birthday. Initially you just wanted a chill day, maybe going to eat some pizza with your boys but Stu had a different idea. And so you were at his house, which was full of people. You were convinced Stu invited the whole school. Both Billy's and Stu's 18th birthdays were a few months ago but they didn't have this big of a party, you think. You were making your way to the couch, people wishing you a happy birthday left and right. Finally you could join Tatum and Sydney on the sofa letting out a big sigh.

"Stu really went all out for you huh?"

"Yeah. I think it's a bit much but I couldn't say no to him when he looked at me with his big puppy eyes and his stupid grin."

"So when are you going to tell him you are in love with him?"

You choked on your own saliva at that. 

"I am not in love with him."

"Sure, keep telling yourself that."

"You know I am pretty sure you are not supposed to tease the birthday girl on her birthday."

Tatum rolled her eyes playfully. 

"Whatever."

You continued talking with the two girls when suddenly Stu plopped down next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"You having fun, pretty girl?"

You gave him a soft smile.

"Yeah. Thanks again for the party. But you know I would have been fine with it just being a chill night with you guys and some drinks maybe and a cake. By the way, why is there no cake?" You were pouting a little. The cake was always the best thing about birthdays.

Stu laughed at that.

"Don't worry. Billy is bringing the cake. And no he didn't bake it. That would go horribly." You giggled and softly hit his chest.

"I think you are confusing his baking abilities with your own."

He looked at you in fake shock.

"I am a fantastic baker, just so you know."

"Mhmh yeah and that time you let the cookies burn that were supposed to be sold at the baking sale two years ago was totally intentional."

"Totally!" You two laughed again.

A few moments later Billy came in with the cake. They lit the candles and everyone began to sing Happy Birthday to you. You hated every second of it, not knowing what to do with yourself besides standing there. Both Billy and Stu grinning, they knew you hated this kind of attention on yourself. You were relieved when you finally could blow out the candle and everyone got a piece of cake, including you. 

Billy came over to you, hugging you close. 

"Happy Birthday sweetheart."

"Thanks Billy." You always enjoyed his hugs. Other than Stu, Billy wasn't much of a hugger, so his hugs were a tad more special. Not that you disliked Stu's hugs though. Speaking of Stu, he couldn't stand being left out and so he wrapped you and Billy in a big bear hug.

"I love you guys so much!"

"How much did you have to drink already?" You were giggling. Billy, not so amused, nudged Stu rather harshly with his elbow, so Stu let go of you. 

After finishing your cake, and drinking another beer, you went dancing with your girl friends. You weren't much of a dancer usually but it's your birthday and maybe you should let a little loose here and there. So that's what you did. Soon after you felt a pair of hands on your hips, pulling you close to a hard chest. You were about to tell the person off but you recognised Stu's cologne instantly. Relaxing, you continued dancing. Getting bolder you started to dance more suggestively, swaying your hips more, going down almost to your knees and back up. When you were back up, Stu turned you around. Your arms flew around his neck, smiling up at him. You couldn't quite pin the look in his eyes but you didn't care. You craved his lips on yours. Your eyes flicked down to them and you could see them forming a lazy grin, his tongue poking out to wet them. You were mesmerised by the movement, your own lips parting slightly, making Stu's eyes flick down to then. His eyes became more hooded and his face inched closer. Your eyes were fluttering close, his breath fanning over your face, the smell of beer, which you would normally find disgusting was invading your senses paired with Stu's own intoxicating smell. The anticipation was slowly killing you. You could already feel his lips brush yours when suddenly Stu was janked back making you stumble.

You blinked your eyes open and saw him with a group of guys hollering and throwing shots back. You let out a huff, disappointment settling in. Without looking at him again you pushed past the group and went into the kitchen to get another drink. In the kitchen you found some people making out, blocking you from the counter with the drinks. Groaning, you took a bottle of water and went back to the living room. You could see Stu, he was still with the same group of guys, laughing and dancing. You just shook your head, plopping down on the couch. Your sour mood didn't last long as some Tatum pulled you up by the arms again and started dancing with you. The little incident between you and Stu soon forgotten

Some time around 1 o'clock in the morning when the last person left, you were helping Stu clean up. Billy was also there though really you were the only one cleaning up. The two boys were on the couch talking quietly amongst each other. After you finished the kitchen, you decided that the rest could be done tomorrow. Well technically today. 

You plopped down between them, not noticing the look they shared. 

"You had a great time today?" It was Billy asking you.

You nodded, smiling.

"I normally don't like big parties like that."

"But?" It was Stu's turn to ask.

"But … this was amazing. Thank you again." You put your palm against Stu's cheek, smiling softly at him. Realising how close you were to him, it reminded you of the situation earlier, making your face heat up. You had to look away, opting to look over at Billy. Which was a mistake. He gave you the same intense look you had seen on Stu earlier. You cleared your throat a little, looking away. You felt two fingers softly gripping your chin, turning your face towards Billy again, who was so much closer to you now. Your breath got caught in your throat. You were about to ask him what's wrong but before you could even form one word, Billy's lips were on you, soft yet firm. You were shocked but not in a bad way. Your eyes fluttered close and you were melting against Billy. Completely forgetting that Stu was right behind you. Billy's lips moved against yours with determination, his tongue slipping inside your mouth soon after. You were so lost in the kiss that you at first didn't notice that Stu began to pepper your neck with kisses. Only when he started to suck a mark onto your soft skin did you realise, letting out a breathy moan, leaning against Stu now.

Billy parted from you, making you almost whine. He grinned at that,  taking a quick look at you. Your eyes were closed, now biting your lip as Stu still worked on the one side of your neck. Your eyebrows were pulled together in pleasure. You felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, even more so when Billy began to kiss the other side of your neck. One of Stu's hands creeping you to one of your boobs, groping and squeezing the soft flesh. A breathy moan left you. The both of them were driving you wild. You were gripping at Billy's shirt, making him bite into your neck. One of his hands was working on your pants, slipping a hand inside of them once it was opened. His hand dipped into your panties and he let out a pleased hum.

"My my, already drenched and we barely did anything to you yet sweetheart. 'S that all for us?" Billy spoke against your neck, leaving goosebumps. 

You quickly nodded your head, a breathy "Yes" left your lips. You could feel Stu grinning against your neck. 

Billy slowly dragged a finger through your wet folds, making you squirm in Stu's grip. After a little more of this teasing, having coated his fingers in your juice, Billy slipped one of his fingers inside of your dripping hole. Your mouth opened in a silent moan,  Stu's hand grabbing your boob harder. Billy began to slowly fuck you open with his finger. Your head fell against Stu, one arm behind you, around Stu's neck, gripping him at the nape of his neck, the other hand still fisting Billy's shirt. You tried to muffle your moans, which soon flew out of the window as Billy added a second finger soon after. You had sex before but those guys never fingered you. Heck even the sex with them was nothing compared to what Billy could do to you with his two fingers. You wondered, if this is how good his fingers could make you feel, how amazing must it feel to be really fucked by him. 

Billy's intense gaze never left your face as he fucked you with his fingers, his pants were growing tighter by the minute, he knew Stu was in much the same position. Billy started scissoring his fingers, his thumb soon joining in to play with your clit. You started withering, but lucky for you and Billy, Stu had a tight grip on you. He had resumed sucking hickey's onto your neck. 

"I always knew you were tight. But fuck this is even better than I imagined. Can't wait to stuff you full with my dick." 

Billy's words only made you more wet, if that was even possible. Even with your pants still on you could hear the squelching sound your pussy made, feeling Stu's hard dick press into your lower back told you he liked what he was hearing too. Your skin felt so hot, one could think you had a fever, a soft sheen of sweat on your forehead and your cleavage formed. Stu wanted nothing more than to lick it off of the swell of your boobs. 

Suddenly Billy removed his fingers, making you whine in protest. Both boys chuckled at that. 

"What's the problem, pretty girl?" Stu's tone was mocking, but it only made you hornier. You didn't dare speak.

"Cat's got your tongue?" Billy's voice didn't sound any less taunting. You looked at them both pleadingly. Billy pulled his hand out of your pants, ready to lick his fingers clean, but Stu stopped him, gripping Billy's wrist. Stu leaned forward and closed his mouth around Billy's fingers, holding eye contact with the other one. Billy let out an audible breath through his nose. Your mouth dropped open as you watched the two. It made you realise that this was definitely not the first time these two have fooled around. You felt a bit honoured that they felt comfortable enough to show you this. Once Stu seemed satisfied he popped Billy's fingers out of his mouth, making a show of licking his lips. 

"Delicious." He kept grinning. Billy gave you a quick glance, before his eyes locked back onto Stu. He gripped the boy's shirt and pulled him closer, making you fall a little to the side, as their lips connected. You could see that it was all tongues and teeth, both of them groaning. Billy could taste you on Stu's tongue and it was driving him crazy. They parted and you could see a string of saliva connecting them. They grinned at each other, then their gaze turned back to you, making you feel even hotter than before. Their look was almost predatory, making you gulp. In a matter of seconds they removed your clothes and you were back against Stu's chest, sitting almost at the edge of the couch. Billy was sitting in front of you, having a perfect view at your glistening folds. 

"Damn, Stu wish you could see this. Most perfect little pussy I have ever seen." Billy couldn't take his eyes off of it. You were squirming under Billy's gaze.

"Please Billy."

"Did ya hear that Billy? I think our precious girl wants something." You looked up at Stu, pleading with your eyes.

"I did hear. Though I am not sure what exactly it is that you want. Tell us Princess. Don't be shy."

"Yeah, don't be shy now."

You swallowed, grabbing onto every ounce of confidence and self control you still owned. 

"Could you please put your mouth on my pussy Billy?" Your voice came out weaker than anticipated. You were afraid he didn't hear you, making you repeat yourself. But he did.

"Aw, of course, pretty girl. Can't leave the birthday girl hanging now, can I?"

You shook your head fast. Billy gave you one last grin, before diving in. Your hands gripped onto his hair in seconds. You always knew his mouth was good but this exceeded your expectations. You didn't care if your moans sounded pathetic, you only knew how good it felt having Billy suck on your clit, having two of his fingers in your pussy again. You were basically grinding against him, one of his hands squeezing your thigh. That would definitely leave a bruise you were sure, but you didn't mind in the slightest. Stu turned your face to the side so he could kiss you. Moaning against his lips as you could feel Billy switching it up, his thumb now rubbing your clit as his tongue was deep inside of you. 

Stu on the other hand was kissing you like his life depended on it. There was nothing of the uncertainty he had when you guys first shared your first kiss. But still sloppy, in a different kind of way. His tongue was massaging yours, one of his hands on your boobs again, toying with your nipples. He was biting your lip, almost drawing blood, making you squeal. 

Billy was looking up, groaning at seeing the two of you kiss. Your grip on his hair getting tighter by the second and he could feel your gummy walls clamping around his tongue. He began to lick and suck at your harsher. He desperately wanted to see you fall apart for him and Stu. You had to part from Stu with a gasp, breathing in deep. Stu pulled at your bottom lip. Your eyebrows were creased together. You were so close. Looking down at Billy you swore his eyes were glinting. He knew you were going to come, you could tell. Your lips were swollen, from the kiss with Stu, who was still playing with your nipples. Pulling and squeezing and twisting, the pain of it so pleasurable. This, paired with Billy's relentless mouth on your dripping pussy, seriously you were sure you would be dripping on the floor, wouldn't it be for Billy sucking it all up, were enough to send you flying over the edge. A high pitched moan left your lips, your thighs clamping around Billy's head, your hips lifting off of the edge of the sofa as your orgasm crashed through you. It has never felt so intense before. Stu was holding you close as Billy helped you ride out every last drop of your pleasure. 

Stu softly pecked the side of your head when you finally calmed down. Billy didn't waste a drop of your juice and you had to push his head away from you, releasing him from between your thighs. His chin and lips were wet from your arousal. His eyes almost black. He made a show of licking his lips and you could feel Stu shuffling behind you. 

Billy was the first to speak. "You ok sweetheart?"

You nodded. "I'm fucking fantastic." He gave you a cheeky grin. 

"Do you wanna continue orrrrr…" Stu spoke up behind you.

You chuckled breathless. "Definitely continue." 

Billy stood up helping you stand up on shaky legs. He gave you a cheeky grin at that, making you swat his chest, giggling. 

When Stu stood up he didn't waste a second to throw you over his shoulder, giving your ass a slap, groping it right after. He made his way up the stars, Billy right behind the two of you. 

Inside the room, Stu threw you onto the bed, making you bounce. Both of the boys looking at your boobs. You almost wanted to cover up from their intense staring. Stu was the first to snap out of it, removing his clothes, almost tripping as he took off his pants. His erection slapping against his lower stomach. You moaned quietly at the sight, biting your lip. The tip was a deep pink, already leaking precum, there was a slight curve upwards. He was definitely longer than your previous boyfriends and just a tad bit girthier. 

"Like what ya seeing babe?" He gave you a grin, but you couldn't see any of his usual silliness shine through. All you could see in his eyes was hunger. And you were pretty sure you were his next meal. He came stalking over to you, taking both your ankles into his hand he pulled you closer to him, making you lie down on your back in the process. As he crawled over you, you wrapped your legs around him, making him feel your wet heat on his throbbing dick. 

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this." He was almost growling.

"Then let's not waste any more time, yeah?" Your voice was dripping with excitement. Stu gave you a quick but forceful peck before lining up with your heat. He was rubbing his tip between your folds. Both of you were mesmerising as he slowly pushed inside of you. The both of you are moaning in unison. 

"Fuck Billy's right. 'S the most perfect little pussy. Shit you're grippn me so tight."

"Stu please move."

You were trying to rock against him but he was gripping your hips so hard there would definitely be handprint bruises. No chance of moving. 

"Shit wait a sec babe, don't wanna bust too soon. You feel so good around me."

You could hear a scoff behind you. Craning your neck you could see Billy standing on the other side of the bed. Naked. Your eyes immediately go to his dick. He was definitely girthier than Stu, not as long tho. His tip also a bit darker than Stu's. 

"What are you a fucking virgin Stu?" Billy was teasing.

"Shut up man, you wouldn't be able to control yourself either." 

With that Stu began to almost pull out entirely making you whine, which soon turned into a loud moan as he snapped his hips back into yours, sending you moving along the bed. Your head getting closer to Billy's dick as he was still standing on the edge on the other side. Stu's pace was relentless, reaching so deep inside you, you swear you could almost feel him inside your throat. He didn't hold back with his moans either. Ever the vocal type no matter what. You didn't mind though, it let you know that he was enjoying himself. Billy shuffled a little closer, gripping his dick. You were already salivating at the thought of having him inside your mouth. He twirled his tip on your lips, coating them in his precum. 

"Open up sweetheart."

You didn't need to be told twice, open your mouth eagerly. Billy gave an appreciative hum as he slowly slid into your mouth. You were gagging a little but still wanted more. 

Stu was still snapping into you, watching as you swallowed Billy's cock. 

"Damn you really are an eager little slut huh?"

Stu's speech was slightly slurred, completely drunk on your pussy. Billy was slowly fucking your mouth, tears were welling up in your eyes. You were loving every second of this. His hands gripped your boobs, squeezing them, using them as leverage too. They were making you see stars, especially when Billy pushed himself all the way in, holding you there for a few seconds. Stu groaned seeing your throat swell around Billy's dick. He couldn help but touch it. Then Billy pulled out, letting you take a breath. You were gagging, tears streaming out of your eyes. Once you inhaled enough air again you pulled Billy back in, eagerly taking him back into your mouth. Bobbing your head best you could in this position, sucking on the tip every time you came up. Stu started to rub circles on your clit, making you clamp down on him.

He let out a breathy "Fuck." You were growing closer by the second. You could tell by Stu's sloppy thrusts that he was nearing his end too. Billy started to throb inside your mouth. He was ready to pull out and came all over your tits but you had a different plan. Pulling him back in. Billy groaned at your eagerness, coming down your throat almost instantly. You swallowed everything eagerly. Then he pulled out, with a satisfied hum. He softly strokes your cheek, bending down to give you a peck. Then he left to go get everyone some water to drink.

Stu gripped your cheeks, squeezing them and kissing you hungrily, still drilling into you. You were whimpering, so close now. He was still rubbing your clit and your legs began to shake and you came, with a high pitched scream. With a loud groan Stu followed right behind you and came deep inside of you. Riding out both of your orgasms, your legs still shaking. He came to a halt, dropping on top of you, making all air leave your lungs. You had half a mind telling him to get off, but it was actually nice to have his weight on top of you. You wrapped your arms around him, softly scratching his back. He was letting out satisfied hums.

"Am I interrupting?"

You hadn't noticed Billy entering the room again. His voice had an edge to it. 

"Don't be silly. Come here."

Your voice, a little scratchy, was still soft when saying this. 

He let out a huff but still came over to the bed. Stu finally moved, pulling out of you and laying down beside you. Billy took his place on your other side, giving you an open water bottle that you could drink. You gave him a thankful kiss and you could swear he was actually blushing a little at this, like he hasn't just eaten you out like a starved man and fucked your throat moments ago. You were gulping down the water while Billy cleaned you up between your legs with a rag. Once he was done he threw it to the side not caring where it landed really.

You were snuggling up to him, Stu close behind you, enjoying the comfort of the post orgasmic bliss. You closed your eyes, very tired now. You guys should talk about what just happened and what it meant for your friendship but you were too tired. 

You were almost asleep when suddenly Stu jolted upward. "Oh!"

"Shit! What?!"

You almost had a heart attack. 

"We forgot to give you your birthday present!I'll be right back!"

With that he was out of the bed walking downstairs to get your present. 

"Is he serious now? That could have waited till morning"

You dropped your head onto Billy's chest.

Billy just shrugged. 

Stu came back in with a big smile on his face, jumping onto the bed.

You were sitting up, the blanket dropping into your lap. Revealing your chest, distracting Stu again. You giggled and gently lifted his head again.

"Concentrate Stu."

"Right, sorry. They are just -" He made a motion with his hands towards your boobs.

You rolled your eyes playfully. 

"He is not wrong, you know?"

You giggled.

Stu gave you a little box adorned with a bow.

"You didn't have to get me anything you know that right?"

"Oh we know."

"Yeah but we wanted to. So just enjoy it and say thank you." Billy nudged you. 

You gave them both a kiss. "Thank you."

Smiling softly you opened the box, revealing a delicate bracelet with two charms on it. 

"Get it? The charms represent Billy and me!" Stu was so excited. 

"That is so sweet!" You were  touched. 

"I knew you'd like it!" Stu threw an arm around your shoulder. 

"See? This is me and this is Billy."

He pointed to the little headphones first. It was rare to see him without them and his cd player these days. Then he pointed at the little knife, with a drop of gemstone blood in it. Definitely Billy. He was obsessed with horror stuff.

"It is perfect. Thank you so much."

And you meant it. Billy put it on for you and you looked at it adoringly. You put your arm down and looked at them both happily. 

"Soooooooo…"

"So?"

"I mean I guess I just wanna know what this means for our friendship?"

"Well we should upgrade it."

"To what?"

"A relationship. Duh." Stu said it like it was the most obvious thing.

"You sure?"

"Sweetheart, we've wanted you for ages."

You looked at Billy like he grew a second head.

"You did?!"

"Yeah. You never noticed?"

Shaking your head you looked at the both of them. 

"Guess you are stuck with us now."

Stu grinned from ear to ear.

You rolled your eyes smiling. 

"Like I wasn't before."

"Yeah but now it will be even harder for you to get rid of us."

"Good thing I wanna keep you both."

"Mh. You better." Billy was smiling but there was something else to his tone. You almost wouldn't notice. And you didn't but Stu did, keeps grinning. 

"Of course. I would be lost without you!" You held the back of your hand against your forehead for dramatic effect, giggling. 

Billy groaned playfully. "Damn what have I gotten myself into?"

You and Stu shoved him, laughing until a yawn interrupted you. 

"Alright you two. It's time to get some sleep."

"Yes dad." Stu was rolling his eyes. 

"Damn Stu I didn't know you were into that." You began laughing again.

"Oh you will be surprised about all the things I'm into."

He gave you a mischievous grin. Biting your lip you grinned as well.

"Can't wait to find out."

"Ok stop it you two horny fuckers."

" Pf.  Just you wait until you find out what Billy's into. He actually loves it when he can ca-" Stu couldn't finish the sentence, as Billy hit him across the head.

"Ow!"

"Sleep. Now. We can get into kinks another time." With that Billy was laying down.

"I can't wait. You will be surprised what I'm into." You hummed and got comfy next to Billy, who put an arm around you.

Stu was bouncing next to you.

"Ohhh is it something freaky?"

"Stu…"

"No, now you got me curious!"

"Stu."

"I won't be able to sleep! Give me a hint! Please!" He was basically begging now.

You rolled your eyes. 

"It might involve getting nicked with a knife. Now come here and sleep, I won't say more."

You could feel Billy tensing up a bit, not knowing that this little bit of information riled him up again. Stu's mouth had dropped open. Not believing what he heard. Now he was really intrigued. You could feel he was about to say something else so you stopped him before he could.

"Sleep. Now." 

Stu cuddled close behind you. You were out like a light in seconds.

Stu and Billy looked at you.

"We really hit the jackpot with her."

"Totally!"

Billy was almost asleep when Stu spoke up again.

"You think she would let us carve an S and a B into her? Small ones of course. Maybe on her hip."

Billy groaned at that, now the idea will be stuck with him. But that was a conversation for another time.

[millerscoffee]

Hello!! 🤍 I was wondering if you could write something where Joel is the reader’s college professor, and then Prof. Miller INSISTS that reader comes over to his home for tutoring assistance, (because of failed tests or bad essays), and then finally coaxes her into letting him have his way with her.

hi nonnie! here it is! i hope you enjoy 💖

extra credit

6.2k | joel miller x afab!reader (professor!joel au)

rating: 18+ MDNI

warning: professor!joel au, age gap (joel is 46, reader is 21), soft!dom joel, pining, consensual sex, pet names (darlin', doll, baby), oral (f receiving), face riding, fingering, piv (unprotected, wrap it folks), squirting, joel spitting over the reader's ass for 0.5 seconds (OOPS IDK???), a pretty dress with easy access, hints of after care, spoiler: honestly prof. miller could've told reader to just do the paper in a different format but – that's the point 🤭

When you picked your major, English was a necessary credit needed to achieve your goals.  It wasn’t your strong suit, but you weren’t one to quit just because you were bad at it.  So far you were coasting through, getting a mix of good and bad grades in your English Lit class when the last essay before finals was presented.

Among the crowd in Professor Miller’s lecture hall, you typically sat in the front.  He hands out papers, hovering by your desk.  Giving you a look of disapproval, he places the grade face down.  You peel the pages in anticipation, a sense of dread falling over you when you scan the big, red mark of failings.  “Shit,” you say to yourself.  That was it.  That was the grade that was the defining factor of whether or not you had to retake this course.  You use the side of your hand to wipe sneaky tears in falling.  You failed.  Doing your best to keep it together, you’re not sure you even heard the rest of the lecture from the possibilities running through your mind.  What were you to do?  How would you recover?

Class was over before you knew it.  The sounds of bags zipping and feet stepping, you stayed seated until you were able to look over to Professor Miller.  Dressed in black slacks, a brown button-up with leather shoes.  His hair was slick, the slightest bit of salt and pepper patched at his sideburns.  He looked like he had it all figured out, and that struck a nerve.  A feeling of jealousy that he knew what he was doing, and you obviously did not.

Professor Miller calls your name when the class is emptied, and you sniffle, standing up to straighten your skirt.  Your manicured nails pick up your essay as you walk over in an attempt to hand it to him.  “I guess you want this back,” you hold your full bottom lip between your teeth.

“Did you read the material?”  Professor Miller inquires, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  His voice is so dark and honied in comparison to his scowl.  Proving not to judge a book by its cover.  The irony.

“Well, I did, but… I struggle with this stuff.  Predicates and imagery?  I’d rather be learning about biology.  But I need this course, you know.  And I…,” you swallow hard.  God, the last thing you want is to embarrass yourself in front of your teacher.  He doesn’t know you, out of the hundreds of people he teaches – how could he possibly even remember your name?

“Hey,”  Professor Miller takes his glasses off, putting them on the table.  He looks as concerned as you are over it and crosses his arms.  Keeps his distance.  “It happens, you know.  There are things we can do to accommodate.  You’re very bright, I’d hate to see you fail.  You have options.  I can’t let you rewrite the paper, but I could tutor you for your final.  Another option is getting a student tutor, but it’s rare.  You know the workload of this university.  Not a lot of people are willing to sacrifice their precious time.”

“And you are?”  You look up at him with grateful, bright eyes and he loves it.  The praise just from your stare alone is cause for him to clear his throat.

“Listen, for someone like you, I believe it is important to help.  You just need a little more time understanding what you’re doing, is all.  I’m not in my office for the rest of the weekend, though.  You’d have to come by my house…,”  he watches those pretty eyes widen again, and that makes a smirk fall over his greying features, “if that’s okay, of course.  If it’s not, we could work something else out.”

You think about it.  You’ve never had a teacher invite you over, much less someone who looked the way he did.  Though, that was neither here nor there.  His lips formed words you couldn’t even pay attention half the time in hearing.  Maybe that was part of the reason why you were failing in the first place.  But you needed to pass, and if he could help you – and was so kind enough to do it in the first place, you should jump at the first opportunity.

“Okay.  Is there a particular time you’d like me to be there?”

“Are you busy tonight?”

What the fuck. That makes your heart race.  Tonight?  Tonight?!  Ton–

“Tonight… tonight is good.”  How did you even form the words?

“Perfect,” he started, bending down to write his address on a sticky note – his cologne wafts in your direction, and you clamp your legs shut reflexively.  “Here’s my address.  7 o’clock.”

“Seven.  Okay… thank you, Professor Miller.”

“Please, call me Joel.”  His teeth gleamed in a smile, and his personality shined through it.

A personality you didn’t get to see too often from your position behind a desk.

Shit.

---

According to your phone, he didn’t live very far from campus, and you were able to walk to his house without breaking too much of a sweat.  You decided on a black dress, although it was a casual one, that paired nicely with your sneakers.  It had buttons down the front with a relaxed collar.  Your bag slung over your shoulder when you knocked on his door, a nervousness fluttering in your stomach.  It was such a weird thing, meeting your professor in his home.  Much less having him request you call him by his first name.

Your knees all but buckled when you saw him on the other side of the door.

He looks… young in his jeans.  His t-shirt stretched over the broadness of his shoulders, but it’s still loose enough that it doesn’t look ill-fitted.  His stomach, soft at the bottom.  You flash him a smile, but internally you’re reeling over how casual he looks.  You’d never seen him like this, not even during those school meetings that were informal.

“Hey, you,” he’s bright, too.  Charismatic as he invites you into his home.  Takes your bag, lets you take your shoes off until you’re in your socks.  His words hit your stomach, how easy it is for him to talk to you like you’re the brightest sunflower.  What’d you even do to deserve it?

“Hi, Prof– uh, Joel,” you titter, taking in the curated decor of his home.  It was sophisticated, yet a little cheesy at the same time.  His alumni cover his walls and a mix of pictures.  Some with a couple of young girls you assumed were his children.  He has children, you swallow.

“Wasn’t too hard to find this place, right?  When I moved here, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t too far – not much of a mornin’ person,” Joel laughs and you do, too.  Fuck, this feels so easy.  But it’s nothing – it’s nothing.

What you don’t pick up on right away is his open body language.  He places your bag on his couch and you follow him like a puppy – he likes that.  You look so soft under the sienna hue of his lights, your hair falling into place naturally.  Plump and ripe for the taking.  Of course, he meant it when he said he’d tutor you, but the air got thick the moment the door was shut behind the two of you.  What were you doing to him?

Joel’s large frame walks over to his bar cart, turning on his heel to face you, “Interested?”

“Huh?” You blink and he laughs again at your deer caught in the headlights expression.  You’re cute.

“Do you drink?”

“Oh, uh… water would be nice.”

“Water it is,” Joel’s pleasant, gesturing his hand for you to follow him.  And you do – that puppy he was coming to know, right to his kitchen.  You study the marble countertops, the farmhouse style kitchen sink.

“So, tutoring,” he starts, taking a glass from the cupboard, he fills it with filtered water before handing it to you – you thank him with a nod, “I was thinking we could look at your paper, and then go over how to fix things in the future?”  When you take the water from him, your fingers graze.  The first sign of contact, your head continues to nod unthinkingly, but all that scorches your mind is how his skin feels.

“That sounds good,” you overcompensate, shoving the ideas from your mind.  He was your teacher, and it was easy to get back into the mode of why you were here.

Joel’s expression doesn’t change much, still the same grin with hooded eyes and wrinkles at his forehead.  The two lines between his brow.  “Alright, well I have it on the coffee table.  Let’s get settled on the couch, and we’ll get started, okay?”

So you agree.  You take your glass of water and follow him back to the couch where everything was set up – your paper, his laptop.  All of the correction marks in your face as you sit down.  You take another sip of water before placing it down on the coaster.  You dread it, you really do.  Going over your failures?  You scrunch your nose up to yourself, but Joel notices when you’re both settled on the cushions.

“You know, Voltaire said, ‘perfect is the enemy of good’,”  Joel bends his knee on the couch, thigh pressing into the cushion to turn to you and it causes the couch to shift.  The quote makes you giggle a little to yourself, and you shake your head.  “What?” His eyebrow quirks in curiosity.

“Voltaire also popularised the story of Newton’s apple, doesn’t make it true.”

“Huh…,” Joel trailed off, keeping his eye on you – his tongue skating over his bottom lip in thought.  You were so quick all he could really do was laugh, and that made your shoulders relax.  Makes you feel more in control and comfortable to laugh at yourself.  “You got an answer for everything?”

“Not everything.  See this,” you pick up your paper, thumbing over the ink of corrections the man on the couch made and you shrug, “I don’t really understand why this got marked wrong.”  Joel’s gaze flashes over your mouth when your teeth press into the plushness of your bottom lip – he should be given some damn award for having so much self control around you.

“Wrong format.  This citation works for your research papers, right?”  He nods with you before leaning in closer, that damn cologne coming back in full force just like earlier in the day.  You all but freeze when his warm touch graces you again – this time, fingers tracing over where you’re holding the paper.  “Oh,” your voice is soft, a bit of disappointment pangs at your ribs.  You were so busy you didn’t even realise that was the majority of the issues you had.

“So… it’s not really what I wrote, it’s how I wrote it?  You asked if I read the material?”

“Exactly.  If you read the syllabus, you’d see the required format.  Listen, there are some ways for extra credit, I do think this is salvageable.”

You suddenly feel silly.

You did all that work, Professor Miller was kind enough to let you into his home, and it was all for some redundant formatting.  An open palm curls over your chin as you look at the paper in deep contemplation.

“I really fucked up,” you say, hushed in the space.

“You didn’t fuck anything up,” you manage an exhale of amusement at the sound of your teacher curse.  You shift your gaze to look at him.  The curls at the nape of his neck, the way his t-shirt dropped enough so you could see his neck, his chest.  The freckles that splayed over his aged skin.  “You just needed someone to tell you what to do.”

That was the loaded statement.  And a pointed one, it seems.  Someone to tell you what to do.  And Joel wanted to be that person?  Your eyebrows raise for a flash, thumbing over the paper.

“That would be too easy,” you scratch at your neck idly before going for the glass of water, sipping in contemplation. “...I mean, I should’ve known better.”

Joel takes the glass from you, offering himself a sip of your water and it stuns you speechless, doing your best not to convey it.  Maybe he did that just because this was his house.  That must’ve been it.  He was comfortable, but goddamn – the eye contact he gave you when he swallowed the liquid.

It felt intentional.

He watches your features, vague as they were, in what to do next.  He honestly wasn’t so sure what he was doing either.  What?  I know how to give you extra credit, sweetheart.  Too forward, too boastful, too… cheap.  You deserved better than that.  He saw you in class, how hard you were on yourself.  He talked to your other teachers, how well you were doing in your other classes.  He felt for you.  And he was a bit lost in your eyes.  You were all too pretty, too brilliant to be dimmed down to a fuck for extra credit.  Joel could see that.  He wasn’t even sure what he was thinking, you had him distracted.  You threw him off without even trying.  The plight within him grew stronger as he handed back the glass.

“You’re too hard on yourself,” Joel straightens up, his hand cups over your forearm in a way that’s understanding, but also makes goosebumps rise.  You look down to see where you connect and he pulls away slightly.  “Sorry, I–,” “No, it’s okay,” you agree, “It’s okay.  You’re right.”

“It’s just, I see hundreds of bright, beautiful young people every year, but none of them have stood out to me like you.”  He can’t believe the words that are coming out of his mouth.  The candor, the nerve.  A filthy old man, that’s all he was in the eyes of someone as sweet and innocent as you were.  Even if you happened to be experienced – god, what was he thinking?!

Joel clears his throat, shifting a bit in his seat, but he sees the way your lips part, but your eyes don’t show an ounce of shock or distain.  They look soft, and… willing.  You know that is because the pull at your core feels too strong to think of anything else.  You look down at his left hand, making sure you’re not dreaming.  He’s not married?  You’d casually look at his hands from time to time during class and ignored the ache it gave you, but this?  So close?  Backed by the glow of his house?  It was so different from the boys you were used to.  In their dorms or disgusting apartments.  It smelled as nice as it looked.  You realise you’re not speaking, but the way you lean into him says more than you really ever could.

“I don’t know what to say,” shyly, you touch your knuckles to your cheek, “you should teach the guys that go here how to chat with someone.”

It’s a mutter, but not to yourself.  You drink one more mouthful of what you were offered before putting it back on the coaster.  Honestly, any distraction was welcome to defer from the ever-present density in the room.

“Those guys don’t know what they’re talkin’ about anyway.  I know I didn’t at that age.”

There.  The topic right in front of both of your faces.

“How old at you, anyway?”  You inquire, thumb mindlessly circling over your knee.  Joel tracks it, licking over his lips as he answers.  “Forty-six.  You?”

“Twenty-one.”

Fuck.  Fuck fuck fuck.

There’s this standstill, as if you’re both in the air together looking at each other in slow motion.  How will this land?  What are you both even doing here like this?

“I’m sure your boyfriend takes good care of you,” Joel’s eyes, round and bright brown, get lost in yours – the way your breath hitches, the shift of your thighs on his sofa.  He wondered what you tasted like, what sounds you make when these boys who don’t know what they’re doing with their tongue attempt to eat you out.  Do you fake it?  Do you give it to them straight?  Neither of you had a drink from that bar cart in the corner of the room, but somehow you’ve become closer – and more intoxicated.

“Don’t have one,” you respond softly, orbs flickering to the set of plush lips that grow more red the longer you let the tension build, “what about you?  N-no partner?”

Your attempt in confidence wavering the longer he stares at you.  It’s like staring back into the sun and you have your brows knit together until the tug of muscle makes your forehead hurt – smoothing them apart with the twitch of muscle fibers.

“No partner,” Joel’s hand settles on your thigh and you can’t hold it back; you gasp.  But you do something he doesn’t anticipate, or well, you don’t do something: you don’t pull away.

How did you two get to the topic, anyhow?

How did you end up straddling his lap, for that matter?

It’s within six eager seconds that his hand, hot and rough, touches your soft skin, and you – green, you – fervent, throw all inhibitions aside and lunge.  It’s more fluid than you realise, and his hands (both now) grip the backs of your bare thighs and you whimper at the sensation of him squeezing you.  Your wetness against your cotton panties grows from the kneading alone.  No, absolutely not, the boys back in the dorms didn’t know how to do this.

It takes an even shorter time for your mouths to meet.  He’s first to kiss, and he tastes like coffee and his dinner, and the faintness of a cigarette – maybe early in the day?  You couldn’t tell, your head was swimming too deep in now to come back from.

And although his calloused fingers roll patterns into your soft skin, he’s just as willing.  Just as desireful and you can feel it beg to be set free at the seam of his jeans.  His tongue skirts against yours, hips rolling up the second yours tempt to roll down; causing you both to moan in each other’s mouths.

It gets feverish after that.  All teeth, tongue, bite.

You don’t want to stop, you don’t want to take a moment to breathe because fuck, that could stop things.  That could make him realise what is happening.

But that only is another item to your list of naivety.

Because Joel, he’s ready.  His masculine arms wrap around your frame to lift you up just enough so he can get out of his fucking jeans that he now regrets wearing.  Shoulda been wearin’ sweats, but it’s effortless… eventually.  He hurriedly pushes the thick fabric down until they hit at his thighs and you’re pushed down onto his boxers that – holy fucking shit – leave nothing to the imagination.  “Joel, J-,” you pant between kisses, fingernails digging into the base of his neck, he pauses.  Pulls away, gets a good look at your face.

“Y’want this?” And goddamn, you can’t see yourself, but you imagine you look just as fucked out as he does.  On the cusp of every little fantasy he’s had about you from the moment you sat down behind that desk.

“I want this,” you repeat.  You weren’t sure exactly when the nerves subsided, maybe because all of the blood is now rushed at the apex of your thighs, but you mean it.

You want this.  You want Professor Miller.

“You got me,” his breath dances over your lips before guiding you back a bit, “here… I’m going to lie back, I want you to– I’ll show you.”  Your lips quirk up at the fact he’s so flushed he can’t even finish his sentence.

But that soon turns to you flushing when you realise his request.  “I – what?”

“No?”  Joel sits up on his elbows, looking over to you and you’re worried you’ve killed the mood.  It’s just, straddling his face?  Blood rushes to your cheeks.

“I’ve never done that… What if it’s bad?”  His eyes, reassuring, but a deep shade of black now beckons you.

“Darlin’, I think you’ll be a natural.  But I can teach you, if that’s what you want.”

You swallow, straddling his knees somewhere at the bottom of the couch and you think about it.

Joel, on the other hand, was living in a fantasy of teaching you things in and out of school.  Showing you how to make yourself feel good on his mouth – make you forget all about the essay that caused you grief today.  He leans over, pushing it under the couch out of view for good measure.

“Okay,” you agree, though nerves still flood you.  “Okay, you wanna take your panties off?”  You lick your lips at that, biting back another whimper that brought you to this predicament in the first place.  And you did – you wanted nothing more than to slip your underwear off and give into your pleasures.  His voice was deep, graveled with the prospect of him fucking you senseless on his couch and who were you to deny him that?

Who were you to deny yourself that, more importantly.

“Yeah,” doing as you say, you slip off your lace-trimmed undies and abandon them somewhere on your Professor’s floor.  “Fuck,” you mutter.  This was naughty.

“Already so good for me,” you weren’t even sure that Joel’s voice could get deeper, or more inviting, but it does.  You bite your lip and oblige when he pats his chest.  Going over to him, you straddle just above his broad shoulders, and he’s almost out of view with him like this – somehow making it easier to just feel what he could do to you.

Joel on the other hand?  All he can do is see the outline of your glistening core from the shadowed tent you’ve made of your dress and his groans are muffled slightly from the fabric, “Fuckin’ Christ,” he wants to devour you, but he takes his time instead.

Peppers kisses along your thighs that make you claw the armrest, causes you shiver at the contact and you can’t believe this is happening.  “J-Joel,” you hesitate, but his hands are wrapped around your hips now, fingers digging into the breadth of your ass.

“Sit.”  Joel commands.

Oh, fuck.

You’re almost certain you’ll break skin at your lips from biting down so hard, but you do as you’re told.  Anchoring down, it’s subtle at first – the brushing of his facial hair against your folds, his chin prying you apart.  Then, it’s incredibly palpable.  His lips are the first thing you feel as they press and kiss over your middle and as you shudder it only makes your muscles sink deeper on him.  You’re the first to moan, and then Joel, and his mouth is open when he invites you inside it.

“Oh, my god,” thighs shaking, Joel flattens his tongue under the hood of your clit, a body part you were certain hadn’t been touched by anyone else but yourself.  There was no time to compare, the white hot pleasure coursed through your veins and he took his time with it, too.  Made sure he was teasing you, his tongue dipping inside your entrance, as sloppy as it felt.  “Hmmn,” you can’t speak, forearms resting on the armrest now as your head hangs between your shoulders and his fingers make pliable work of your asscheeks.  Pushing you down, using your hips to move back and forth against his mouth – like he’s using you while you use him.

The air is thick under your dress, sticky and humid, as Joel swirls this tip of his devilish tongue in the most astonishing circles you’ve ever experienced, and you know it’s because he has more experience than you do.  Has so much to teach you, if you let him.  Your mouth hangs open as you try to inhale, but it’s just too much.  Especially with the way he thumbs into your stomach, then your pubic bone – lifting it just slightly to expose your clit to him.  An angle, not even you have found yourself.

It almost feels like too much.  It’s intentional, the way his tongue flicks over that bundle of nerves right at the top of your cunt.  Delicious, deliberate.  Two fingers greet your entrance and it startles you, the way he’s rubbing your hole with his two fingers in slow circles before pressing them where you want them most.

“Tell me you want it,” you hear, muffled and fucked, and you shiver at the slightest bit of lack of contact.

“I want it, I want your fingers – please!”

And that seems to send him over the edge of how much he’s willing to hold back because he’s exactly where he was.  Mouth on your clit, but fingers skillfully pressing inside of you and you don’t know how long you’ll last.  Not with the pads of his fingers tapping in the perfect tempo against the ridged spot inside you.

That’s when a weird sensation comes over you.  A pressure, you felt like you had to pee and your insides pulled in more trying to keep it all contained.  “I–,” you start, but it happens so suddenly.  Your orgasm rushes through you, convulsing and almost falling over the edge of the couch, you dig your fingernails into the upholstery.  Your eyes roll back, and fuck, so are your hips.  Unable to stop yourself using Joel’s mouth to keep you exactly right there.  Pleasure pricks your skin, it feels like every cell is ignited – but you jump when you feel a rush of fluid come out of you.  The pressure rebounding out, then rippling pleasure back inside you.  Joel fucks you with his tongue and fingers until he feels you calm down.

“W-what, what… did I do?” You pant, and Joel is groaning, too.  He lifts your hips to get lungfuls of oxygen, so dizzy on you and you notice how soaked his pair of fingers feel on your skin.  Sits you down on his chest and you can see his face finally.  Can see his mouth parting, gasping as his eyes are hooded and so gone.  Curls stick to his forehead, his shirt a dampened colour at the collar.  You blush heavily, embarrassed because you aren’t even sure what that was.  Did he hate that, was that weird?

“C’mere,” he growls with gritted teeth and sits up, the tables turning instantly.  Joel’s stripping his shirt off, kicking every last bit of the bottom half he had on to be abandoned on the floor.  His fingers remove the buttons, but he can’t really get them – those fingers too big for the buttons.  “Here,” you whisper, an intense feeling of lust falling over any self-conscious self talk you had.  You undo the top of your dress one button at a time until your breasts are released from your bra – you moan when he has no problem spilling your tits from the satin, nipples in stiff peaks from your orgasm.  And everything else.

“You know what you did?”  Joel asks, taking both of your nipples between his fingers from each hand.  You moan, lifting your hips and he bites his lip when he sees your cunt front under your dress.  “What was it?”  You ask, curiously.  Innocently.

“You squirted f’me, baby,” he slurs, thumbing over your clit now as he gets a good look at you and he’s drunk on you.  His cock throbbing against your thigh, he taps it against your skin before realising what he needed.

 “Fuck,” Joel mutters and you can tell by the tone it’s not just at your appearance.  “What is it?”  You inquire, eyebrows knit.

“Gotta get a condom,” you hear him mutter, getting onto one foot and you stop him.  “No.  No.  I want to feel you.  It’s okay, I don’t get pregnant–” well that sentence isn’t exactly how you mean for it to come out, but your mind is mush, your body feels boneless underneath him, and he chuckles at that.  At how gone your brain is.  Here he was, thinking he was the only one.  “Okay, okay, darlin’.  I believe ya.”

And really, maybe he should be using more discretion.  But he can’t get the feeling of you out of his head.  You were everywhere.  His mouth, his glistening chest and beard.  He takes you by the hips then, sitting back to flip you on your hands and knees with your help and you moan at the sensation.  Joel looks down at you, groaning of your ass in the air, pushing back for his cock.  “Such a needy little thing, now,”  it’s as if someone else is talking.  This isn’t the Professor Miller you know.  This man has layers and you’re first in line to know exactly what that entails.

Joel takes the base of his cock, bobbing it as it throbs alive in his hand and runs through your slick with the head of it.  “So fucking wet.  Beginning to think you’ve been wanting this for as long as I have.”

You bite a whine and he can see the back of your head nodding as you crane your neck back enough to make eye contact, but his eyes fall down to your ass pressing eagerly on his cock.  Doing your best to press him inside yourself.

“Go ahead,” he slaps his cock on your folds and you mewl at the wet sounds coming from it.  “Take my cock.”

And take, you do.  Joel holds it out for you, keeps it steady and you push back slow on his cock.  Clenching around the head and he growls at that.  “You dirty thing.  This how you fuck all your teachers?”  It burns your skin, pushing your face into your arm and you shake your head.

“Words.” He warns.

“Just you!  Just you, Joel!”

“Just me,” he parrots, hissing when you shift back and you both twitch and groan when you take him to the hilt of you.  It was so thick, stretching you out until you felt split apart from him.  “Just me, show me then.  Show me how you fuck me.”

You bite into your arm then, choking on a sob as you push your ass back over and over.  Your cunt taking him deep like this, it almost feels like too much and not enough at once.  Torturously slow against the spongy spot again

 It felt so amazing taking him yourself, but it was like an itch you couldn’t scratch on your own.  The tapping of his balls against your clit was too far apart in tempo, his cock speared inside you at a pace that didn’t have quite the same leverage as Joel did behind you.

His hands busied themselves on your ass, peeling the muscle apart – pressing his digits to leave bruises and just when you think it’s too much to take, he gives you something else.  His spit falling from his lips right to the velvet of your asshole.  You shudder and flutter around him when it falls to where you’re connected.  Your fingertips grip the other armrest now, cheek resting atop of your hand and you can’t do it yourself anymore.  “Fuck me, Joel!  Professor Miller, please!”

“Shit – you know where to push, don’t you?”  Joel’s wide hands slide up your sides, keeping them locked in place as he pulls your hips to him at first.  Using your whole lower body, your head hands doing your best to keep yourself up but you’re so close when he uses you like this.  When he picks up the pace and you let your head fall on his throw pillow – your screams of desire are targeted into the plush cushion.

Joel is bound up in amazement behind you.  How you feel around him, your gorgeous figure in front of him as he gives you every bit of power he can now.  His hips hammering into you, but with the right amount of speed – not too fast, not too slow.  The sound of his balls slapping against your clit is faster now, and the difference is what you focus on.  The way it sounds.  Joel feels you tighten, pulse around his own pulse and he has to say something to you.  Has to talk you through it, even if he’s not sure you’ll like it.

“So fuckin’ good for me,” he drapes his body over your back, huffing into your ear as the controlled weight of him pushes your ass down just enough to make your thighs shake.  You are soaked, sticky against his abdomen, between your thighs.  Over your own stomach.  You move your face so you can feel his skin closer against your.  His lips staying on your cheekbone, he grunts and nods.

“That’s it, fuckin’ take it.  I know you can take it.  Those shaky fuckin’ thighs better hold on.”

You feel yourself coil and he is quick to sooth over your hips with his palms.

“Relax, baby.  That’s it, that’s good, darlin’.  Shh, easy.  Do you feel that heat?”

You nod hopelessly, the buildup was so strong you couldn’t do anything but curl your fingers into fists and whimper repeatedly.

“Give into that heat.  Come for me, I know you can be so good for me.  Good for – fuck – fuck.  Good for my cock,” Joel groaning in your ear makes you flutter uncontrollably, and he wastes no time in wrapping his arm around your front, rolling quick circles at the split of your cunt, right at your clit.  “Milkin’ my fuckin’ cock like that, don’t stop.  Don’t fuckin’ stop,” he grits, and you’re gasping.

Clawing at the pillow, head craning up and back as you come.  Mouth gaped, Joel takes advantage – pouring his tongue into it, swirling and drinking you while his cock bottoms into you repeatedly until he can’t take it anymore.  You feel too good.  Perfect, even.

“Joel!” Your whine is high, as your wet folds take his merciless shoves.  “You feel so good, youfeelsogood!”  Your lip quivers, jerking in aftershocks that feel a lot like multiple orgasms.  You aren’t even sure how you feel, but he knows he has to pull out.  So he tells you, rough and pained against your ear.  He doesn’t want to any more than you do.  But as soon as he does, that reward feels just as sweet.

He exhales roughly through his nose, a popping sound filling the room when he pulls out.  Not even needing to touch himself to spill himself over the small of your back.

“Fuck,” he’s out of breath, grunting, and doing his best not to collide into you.  You’re still, the nape of your neck dews with sweat and you can feel it stick to your dress instantly.

“Stay there,” Joel pulls away, and you sit up on your elbows now that you’re fully flat and study his frame walk into the kitchen.

The back of him is just as irresistible as the front.

You hum hungrily at the landscape of his back.  But you do as you say, you don’t move a muscle.  When he comes back, you take note of the splotches of his chest, his neck red and sheened with sweat, too.  He’s just as disheveled.  The paper towel he comes back with is rough against your lower back, but tickles more than anything else.

Makes you wriggle and laugh.

“What did I say?”  He threatens, but his voice is much more smoother and tender.  More playful.  More like what you’re used to.

“Tickles!”

“You must endure it if you know what’s good for you.”  he’s finished enough for you to roll over.  You pull your tits back into your bra with another low laugh, but to yourself at how exposed and a mess you’re sure you look on your professor’s couch.

“I think I like that threat.”

“No more,” and that makes your heart drop.  He must be able to see the disappointed look on your face, so he rephrases his sentence in an instant.  “No more tonight.”

“Maybe I should be teaching you the importance of ambiguity.”

“Next lesson.”

Your heart soars just as fast as it dropped.

---

While you slip on your sneakers, you turn your heel to him – bag in tow.  “Listen, I don’t want this to be why I passed.”

“It’s not – it won’t be,”  Joel chews up the space between you – his hand pressing against the doorframe that your delicate hand adorns at the knob, fully dressed himself, now.  “You will pass by your own volition.  I meant it – you are bright.  You won’t let anybody take that from you, will you?” You knew that wasn’t a question as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but you still swayed your head ‘no’.

“Not even me.”  He whispers, pressing his lips to your forehead before dropping his arm – allowing you to leave.  And that’s exactly what he’ll let you believe.

“Especially not you.”  You smile, leaning up to kiss his lips – your flavour lingers over his facial hair and tongue.  Your panties in his pocket.

“Goodnight, Professor Miller.”

“Goodnight, doll.”

taglist: @cool-iguana – comment to be added!

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (1)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

---- part one | next part >>>

You know Kuroo Tetsurou before you officially meet him.

Why? Because he's practically a legend to your current four-year-old who's been talking about him nonstop from the moment you've strapped her into the car on the way back home.

"Apparently he was a--a volleyball champ!" Sakura chimes from the back as you swerve into the right lane in the direction of your tiny flat, "he knows how to serve from faaaar away, and --and when he serves, it's like--kapow! and boom! and whoosh! like that!"

You can't help but laugh because seeing your daughter so excited about volleyball is something you hadn't been expecting, not when you have two left feet and a stamina of a tiny pet rat.

"I'm glad you enjoyed your first week back," you meet her eyes in the rearview mirror with a smile, "that's good isn't it? Better than last year then?"

"Yes! I love Kuroo sensei!"

It seems that this particular teacher has specifically changed Sakura's view on school, and you had made a mental note to thank him.

But all thoughts of thank-yous and praise had flown out of your head the moment you bump into the said PE teacher in the corridor leading up to Sakura's class the next morning.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You cry out, bending down to help him pick up the stack of papers that are now flying about and scattering at your feet, "here, let me help you--"

"It's Kuroo sensei!" Sakura chirps suddenly, causing your eyes to snap up at him.

Oh. So that's the PE teacher she's been gushing about all week. You're quick to shove the papers into a messy pile before handing them out to him, "I'm really sorry about that," you say sheepishly.

"Nothing to worry about," his deep voice is what catches your attention at first, followed by his height as he straightens up so that you get a clear view of his facce; angular features, honey-golden eyes that blink slowly at you in a way that makes you want to squirm, and messy dark raven locks that looks like he's just rolled out of bed five minutes ago.

Not that you won't mind if he rolled out of your bed, you mind chanted without warning.

You stop it as soon as it surfaces, horror and panic crashing into you at the same time. This man is--what? Probably half your age?

"Kuroo sensei! Do we have class with you later?" Sakura, unknowing of all the tormenting thoughts flickering past your brain, seems all too excited to see her PE teacher.

He chuckles lightly before ruffling her short bangs, "not today, little munchkin," he leans down to see her face, "but I'm pretty certain that we have class tomorrow. How about that?"

"Oh really? Yay!" Sakura claps, beaming up at him like he's just put a new sun in her sky, and Kuroo grins before straightening up once more, gold eyes clashing against your dark maroon.

"I don't think we've met," his voice, it's so deep and gravelly that it makes you want to swoon. You snap out of it the moment you spot his outstretched hand, "I'm Kuroo Tetsurou, the new PE teacher."

"So you're the new teacher that Sakura's been talking about all this time," you send him a shy smile as you shake his hand, realizing that his palm practically dwarfs yours in comparison, "it's nice to meet you. I'm Sakura's mum. How are you enjoying the school?"

"It's been really great actually," his grin widens. He has a beautiful smile, one that will easily make all the ladies of staff fall at his feet, "I'm slowly finding my way around the timetable, but other than that it's been smooth-sailing till now."

You nod, "that's great. I'm glad to hear," and then turn to your daughter, "you know where your class is right?"

"Of course I know mum," Sakura folds her arms across her chest indignantly.

You laugh, ruffling her hair before ushering her onwards, "alright alright. Yes, you're a big now. Then off you go."

You both watch her teeter down the hall, sometimes almost falling off-balance due to her newly-acquired skill of running with the weight of her bag around her shoulders, and fondness explodes across your chest. It's sweet and bitter at the same time, watching your daughter grow day by day. She's always changing, you realize, every day is a new one, maybe her hair gets longer, or you find a new mole along her face. It's like she's growing so fast you barely have time to savour it.

"Cute kid you have there."

You realize you're not alone upon hearing the familiar scratchy alto, and quickly blink back to reality, "ah--thank you. She can be a handful when she wants. Sometimes."

"All kids are," Kuroo tilts his head towards you, a smile on his face, "but sometimes I think they know more than we do."

You can't help but chortle, "definitely. Sakura's practically a know-it-all. She's in the phase of correcting everything that I say."

"Ooh, a bit bossy huh?"

"Tell me about it."

It's then that the bell rings, disrupting any kind of moment you might have with the PE teacher.

"Anyway," you dip your head into a small bow, "thank you for taking care of Sakura."

"It's really no trouble, miss...?"

"It's Y/N. Y/N Kosuke."

"Y/N," his golden orbs locks on yours, swirling with a kind of playfulness, with a warmth that makes your heart stutter, "well, I shall see you around, Ms. Kosuke-san."

And with that, he swerves away with a small wave as you watch his broad back disappear down the hallway, wondering whether it's stupid to imagine whether he'd winked at you or not.

Probably not.

Because why would anyone be interested in a mom right?

-----

The second time you bump into Kuroo Tetsurou is during Sports Day.

You remember back when you were in high school, how you'd always find an excuse to skip out on the activities -- feigning your period or cramps just to get to the nurse's office and away from your classmates -- just so that you could sit and daydream about anything and just about everything. You weren't that popular in your cohort, making it easy for you to disappear whenever you wished. But despite that, you could count on your hands the number of times you'd replaced someone and failed to deliver, causing wave after wave of disappointment as you lost team points as a result.

But now, as a grown up responsible for a child and always accustomed to doing whatever they liked even if that meant bringing you unhappiness or shame, you were obliged to attend such events. Actually enjoyed being there and watching Sakura giving it her all despite her short limbs and her lack of talent in sports. From what you can see, she clearly hasn't taken from her dad's side. Every single flaw in physical movement comes down from your side of the family and at the thought, a smile curves at the edges of your lips as you proceed to clap even harder.

"Is Papa going to be there tomorrow?" asks your daughter the night before as you're tucking her into bed. Her wide eyes are staring up at you like you're the one who can change anything in her world. And yet, just the thought that you can't grant her this one wish makes your heart quake.

You press a soft kiss along her forehead before smoothing over her features, "i'm sorry honey. I'm not sure if he'll be able to come tomorrow."

"Why not?"

"He has work to do. But he promises to be there this weekend," you try to smile, though it's hard when Sakura's face doesn't light up like it usually does at the mention of her father. That's when you prod, "everything okay, Sakura?"

Your daughter merely turns away to hide her face against her pillow. Her mumble comes out soft and practically a whisper. But you can still hear her loud and clear.

"Why doesn't he ever come?"

Your heart drops to your stomach. You move to hug her, in hopes of appeasing the pain she feels. But she's right, you can't do anything about it. About this. It's a selfish act, the act of divorcing the one whom you thought would've been your lifelong partner till the day you die. And yet, you hadn't been strong enough for her sake.

And Sakura's the one victim to all consequences that follow.

Because how can you tell her? That her father has decided to choose someone else -- another woman, instead of staying by his family and taking on his responsibilities as he should? How could you tell her that her own father has abandoned her?

Sakura isn't stupid. She's well aware of everything that happens around her. But such words coming out of her own mouth causes your own eyes to burn with tears.

"Papa loves you. He's just--busy with work. But you know that he loves you so so much right?" you hope that your murmur is enough to appease her.

And it does, for now.

Sakura snuggles closer to your bosom, small fingers gripping your t-shirt as though she doesn't want you to leave, "will you stay with me until I fall asleep?" she murmurs through closed eyelids.

You nod, smooth one hand over her forehead, "yeah. Sleep now, okay? Tomorrow's a big day."

Hence the reason why you're here. Burning under the midday sun. Hat poised over your head, and a piece of stray paper from your office that you're using as a makeshift fan.

Until now, it's proven itself useless in response to the heat.

"Come on, Greens!"

That familiar alto. Raspy and velvet like chocolate. It makes your eyes swipe right to the source only to see none other than the PE coach.

Kuroo Tetsurou is bathed in sweat as he stands by the sidelines, cap over his messy hair and eyes never straying from the row of students balancing potatoes across their tiny spoons. His t-shirt is practically soaked through from the back, showing off his array of muscles twisting and twining like vines around a bark of a tree, and when he crosses his arms over his chest you take note of the swell of his biceps. Taunting, tantalizing.

He's a catch, is what your mind thinks.

You shut it down immediately. What's the point of daydreaming when you're not ready to commit to anything? Not even a fling?

No. You'd much rather stay alone. You know exactly how it feels like to be loved and to lose that love by someone whom you thought had your heart as much as you had his. And you weren't in a rush to fall into that trap once again.

It's finally Sakura's turn and almost subconsciously, you straighten up in the bleachers to get a better look at your daughter all decked in Blue. She's holding out her spoon, tongue sticking out in concentration just as a teacher places a potato right in the middle of it.

Catching your eye from where you sit, she gives you a wide beam, all teeth, and you grin back, doing a silly little wriggle of your fingers. You do the mistake of glancing back towards your right only to meet the PE coach's eyes by mistake.

He grins a Cheshire cat smile, as if he knows that he's been caught but he doesn't care, and your own smile turns shy, ducking your head and soon averting your eyes.

The whistle sounds. The race is on.

"C'mon Sakura!" You yell as loud as you can, watching your daughter waddle in what you hope is a straight line. She's second at this point, trying hard not to lose her potato as her classmate -- a red -- blunders right through without hesitation, "C'mon Sakura! You can do it!"

Your daughter all but wobbles, lips parted in concentration as another boy zooms past. You cup your lips using your hands and shout with all your might, "C'mon Sakura! Faster!"

She finishes in third place, not a bad start for her sports confidence, and comes running straight up to you so that you pick her up with a whoop.

"That's my girl!" You nuzzle into her sweaty hair, "aren't you a big champ?!"

"Did you see mum?! I'm third!" she flaps her arms around, "I'm third! Will I get a medal?!"

"You sure will," you pinch her cheek, "and you did great! I didn't know you were good at balancing potatoes!"

"Next time I'll come in first!"

"Then we'll have to practice at home," you chuckle.

It isn't until the end of the Sports day that Kuroo Tetsurou finds you amidst the horde of parents making their way to the parking lot.

"Hey," he calls out to you as you're opening your trunk. You wave at him, slightly embarrassed as you recall the way he'd locked eyes with you briefly on the field. You strive for nonchalance as you say, "how's it going, coach?"

"Not bad, how about you?" he walks straight up to the car, waving at Sakura from the backseat before turning his attention back on you. You and the multiple bags you're organizing, "what's this?"

"Oh it's for an event," you huff out and pull a bag up into the trunk.

"Here," Kuroo's hand reaches for the next one, "let me help."

"Oh--uhm--" you weren't expecting such chivalry. Heat rises to the back of your neck and you're glad it's a hot summer's day, for you're quite certain your cheeks are flaming, "thank you."

"No problem," he sets the last bag into the trunk, pushing it all the way so that it's secure, "what kind of event is it anyway?"

"It's a corporate event," you explain as he closes the trunk for you, "I'm an event planner."

Something lights up in his golden pupils. He whistles, "haven't heard of that one before," a small smile curves at his lips, "what's the weirdest event you'd had to plan?"

"Oh don't get me started on that," you shudder, "I once had a themed birthday party, but they wanted their party to be set in changing rooms, with the theme 'haunted toilets'."

"Wha--no way," Kuroo bursts out laughing. He has a very nice smile, and a laugh that is contagious. You can't help but grin at him, "is that even legal?"

"Well if they pay you to hire your changing rooms, wouldn't you do it?"

“I suppose so,” you snort, “as long as they pay me.”

He chuckles once more, the sound rumbling through his chest and almost making you swoon. God, he's attractive, even more so when he's all sweaty for some unknown reason.

You hurriedly try to end conversation when you feel your tummy tingle with those familiar butterflies, "well--It was nice meeting you again, Coach."

"Likewise," he tips his head towards you, "and I think you've got yourself a pro athlete back there."

That makes you chortle, "I'm not quite sure, Sakura's been graced with my lack of coordination."

"I wouldn't say so. She came in third, didn't she?"

"You're right," a small smile curves at your lips, "well anyway, thank you. For everything. You're probably exhausted."

"I am, but you're good company," he grins.

Butterflies erupt through your chest and you know without a doubt that this is your cue to leave, and quickly bow to him, "thanks again Coach, see you around."

"See you," a pause, before he adds, "get home safe."

These are simple words, won't that do't matter as much and can be said oh-so-politely. But still, it makes your heart beat so fast you feel it echoing through your chest. You try not to show him your blush as you slide into the driver's seat and watch him raise a hand in mid-wave as you pull out of the parking lot. Sakura waves back with as much excitement and you wonder briefly whether she likes him so much because of the lack of father figure in your household.

Your phone rings then and you scramble for it from the passenger seat, barely able to press down on the green button as you keep your eyes on the road.

"Hello," you place it on loudspeaker and drop it to your lap as you make a turn for the motorway, "hello?"

"Hey, it's me."

Oh.

"Papa!" Sakura's exclamation comes from the back, almost makes you skid off the road as you quickly right yourself with a silent curse. Why in the world is he calling now? It's almost like he knows you were having a good time.

"Aoi," your mumble spills out, "how are you?"

"Good, good." a small pause. "how was sports day?"

"Was great, you missed Sakura in her potato-run," you try not to let the bitterness affect your tone, though it's harder to manage than expected, "how was Cali?"

"Very nice actually, Sakura would've loved it. It's warm, with beaches, and people are always doing stuff. It's a nice city."

Of course it's nice when his new wife owns a mansion and no fees are to be paid for the household. Especially nice when his new wife's family has a multi-national jewelry business and a cash flow that seems neverending.

So you cut to the chase, "why'd you call?"

"Jeez y/n," he laughs, "so brutal. Can't I even ask you how you've been?"

"I've been well, so has Sakura," your patience is running thin, "so tell me, why'd you call? Isn't it like midnight over there?"

"Actually it's still morning," there's amusement in his tone, the kind that makes you want to hurl something at him, "but anyway, I was calling to let you know about the papers."

He doesn't have to mention which papers. You know exactly what he's talking about, "what about them?"

"I've already signed them and sent them your way. You should be receiving them by the end of the week."

"Yes, and?"

There's a bout of hesitation from his side, "and I'd appreciate it if you could sign it as quickly as possible."

Another needle to your gut, "that's fine but...why the rush?"

"Ah well," you don't have to see him to know that he's currently scratching the back of his neck, a nervous tick of his whenever he's unsure or nervous. You hate that you know that about him, "we're--we might be getting married in a few months."

You're so shocked you almost barrel straight into the vehicle in front of you.

-----

[nyoomerr]

A drabble about Bingge realizing his children’s beloved Head Imperial Tutor has the same soul as the ‘nice Shizun’ from that other world he once visited could be fun.

“Local man must compete with his own children for the attention of their very cute teacher!”

ahhh i love scenarios like this!! pitting bingge against his own kids is always so fun lol, hope you enjoy!

---

When Luo Binghe manages to find him, he isn’t even looking properly. He’s still spending his free time trying to find a way back into that weird mirror dimension, not scouring his world for anyone. After all, why would he look here? He already knows exactly where the Shen Qingqiu of his own world is; every bloody, rotten part of that body and soul is accounted for. Luo Binghe wants the other Shen Qingqiu, the one he’d gotten only a taste of, the one that had been so unfairly given to his doppelganger.

Perhaps, Luo Binghe thinks, watching through the doorway into the classroom his younger children use for self-study, he should have bothered to spend a bit more time looking at home before trying to force himself back into the mirror world.

“Ah, what are these tears?” One of the tutors is asking, tutting as if in disapproval even as he so gently wipes the face of one of Luo Binghe’s children. “You’re getting much better with your arithmetic, there’s no need to cry over a mistake now.”

The child hiccups, her little hands coming up to pull on the tutor’s robes, clearly trying to worm her way into his lap so she can wipe her face on his shoulder instead of on the perfectly fine handkerchief the tutor is trying to use.

Luo Binghe doesn’t even know which daughter of his that is. He doesn’t know who this tutor is, either, and yet -

The tutor raises his free hand up to pat soothingly at the child’s hair. He doesn’t try to unhook her hands from his robes, or stop her from shoving herself persistently closer to his person; he only pets her hair and wipes her face and tuts at her.

And yet somehow, Luo Binghe thinks, I’m sure that’s him.

It doesn’t make a great deal of sense to find this soul in a body unrelated to Shen Qingqiu, but at the same time it makes a whole world of sense to think of this kind teacher as someone entirely different from the cruel master Luo Binghe had grown up under.

Luo Binghe steps into the room properly, releasing the hold he’d been keeping on his qi to keep it held close to his body. The tutor looks up at the doorway, and frustratingly, the look of indulgence he’d been wearing just moments ago closes up. He stands and bows in unison with the other tutors in the room, and Luo Binghe flicks his hand dismissively so they know to ignore him and return to his duties.

The tutor - the kind Shizun’s soul - stands from his bow but does not immediately return to helping the girl he’d been working with. He only watches Luo Binghe a bit warily, clearly aware of Luo Binghe’s rapt attention on him, and continues to absently pat the hair of Luo Binghe’s daughter. The girl herself doesn’t seem to mind, as she’s managed to get close enough to the tutor to shove her face in his stomach and nuzzle in there, perfectly content and no longer crying. 

Well, no matter; if this man is already aware of Luo Binghe’s attention, no need to hide it further. Luo Binghe approaches without hesitation. 

“And what tutor has brought this Lord’s child to tears?” Luo Binghe asks after having reached the table that this tutor and child had been working at. He knows perfectly well that this man was not the cause of his daughter’s tears; he wants to know how he’ll respond anyway.

“This lowly one is Shen Yuan, my Lord,” Shen Yuan dutifully replies, and though he bows deeply he does not raise his hands from Luo Binghe’s daughter. “My most sincere apologies; I will accept punishment.”

Luo Binghe hums, satisfied. Good, he thinks, he’s already loyal to me. Very good.

Before he can say anything else, though, the girl buried in Shen Yuan’s robes shouts, “No!”

When Shen Yuan stands again, Luo Binghe can see his daughter peeking out, her face half turned away from Shen Yuan to glare up at Luo Binghe. 

“No?” Luo Binghe asks.

“No!” She shouts again. Her demonic huadian flares, and Luo Binghe raises his brows - this girl really dares issue such a threat to her father, knowing who her father is?

Shen Yuan, seeming to catch the very same thing, quickly moves the hand that had been in her hair to cover up her demonic huadian. This does not stop the girl herself from talking.

“If you try to punish Shen-ge, I’ll stab you!”

“Ah, wait -” Shen Yuan protests, pressing the girl further into him as if that will hide her away. He glances nervously at Luo Binghe, expression a bit pinched, and then -

“Who’s threatening Shen-ge?!” Comes a cry from across the room.

“Someone’s threatening Shen-ge?!”

“Lord Luo is threatening Shen-ge!!”

Suddenly, it seems like half the children in the room are gathered up in Shen Yuan’s robes, clinging to him and glaring at Luo Binghe as Shen Yuan frantically tries to soothe them with head pats and hushed whispers of Ah, don’t yell at him, anyone else is okay, but don’t yell at him!

Luo Binghe watches, amused and irritated and hungry all at once. Clearly, this Shen Yuan is already a treasure of his palace, and he hadn’t even known it - his own children have found this man before he himself did. 

Well, Luo Binghe thinks, watching Shen Yuan fluster more and more the longer Luo Binghe stays quietly watching the commotion, they may have him first, but I will be sure to have him last.

[flseur]

꒰ 𐙚 teacher’s pet — jjk men ꒱

⟡ synopsis : desperate to get recommendations for your grad school applications, you decide to take on the role of a TA for your favourite professor and help them out, in more ways then one.

⟡ characters : gojo, geto, kento !

⟡ content warning : nsfw ( 18+ ), fem!reader, age gap ( reader is in early 20s! ), teasing, blowjob, praise kink, hair pulling, jealous / possessive sex, implied creampie, fingering, cunnilingus

౨ৎ note : listened to skin by rihanna to help me with this. please enjoy ! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

୨୧ SATORU GOJO

❥₊ ⊹ gojo was so pretty like this. his usual cocky demeanour was gone and instead he had his cheeks covered in flush and his pink lips between his teeth.

satoru was not your first pick for who you wanted to TA for. everyone in the communications department knew how laid back and careless he was as a professor, yet no one wanted to be his TA because of that. so when it came to asking around to get the job, he was the only one taking teaching assistants at the time.

“ah… just like that, baby.” he whines, thrusting up in your mouth causing you to gag a little then pulling back to look at him. “shit… ‘m sorry, you’re just so fucking good at this.”

you roll your eyes at him, feigning annoyance then kitten lick at his tip, tasting the saltiness of the precum. while your hand wraps around the base of his cock, slowly jerking up and down.

“baby, baby, please put it in your mouth. please.” he babbled, rutting his hips upwards.

deciding to stop teasing him, you give in, giving the head of his cock one last lick then spitting on it and using your hand to spread it over his cock before taking him fully in your mouth again.

“fuck yeah… oh m’god… so fucking good.” he moans, his hands on the side of your head guiding your mouth up and down on his cock. you were just so… messy, and satoru fucking loved it.

he loved how swollen your lips were from when you were making out with him on his lap, he loved that the lip gloss that you were wearing is smeared on the corner of his lips and his cock, and my god does he love the way you look when you take it in your mouth.

“keep going… gonna cum…”

and you decide to pick up the pace, your other hand coyly reaches up from where it was on the ground to massage his balls in your palm.

“shiiiit, i’m cumming, i’m fucking cumming, y/n!” satoru sobs, abruptly pulling out of your mouth, tugging on his cock and groaning then spilling his cum on your face.

“seriously, satoru? you couldn’t cum in my mouth?” you complain, whipping some of the sticky fluid off of your cheek.

“sorry baby, i’ll make it up to you.” he chuckles, reaching over to grab some kleenex from his desk.

“yeah, you better. how about you grade those midterms and i take the week off?”

୨୧ SUGURU GETO

❥₊ ⊹ as a computer science major, you remember your first year intro class well since it was the start of your programming journey. because of that, when you started to look for TA jobs, you wanted to help with a first year computer science class, which happened to be geto’s.

geto was easy to work with, and understanding when it came it mistakes that you made. you really liked him, and he really liked you. but maybe, a bit too much which led you to this predicament.

“mphm, fuck! suguru!” you gasp, feeling the cold surface of the mahogany desk against your cheeks.

geto lets out a short chuckle, leaning down to talk in your ear, “yeah? feels good baby?”

“m-mhm! ah…!” you cry, feeling the sting of tears in your eyes. each and every thrust of suguru’s was well-calculated, the head of his cock was hitting that spongey spot in you and the sheer thickness of it was splitting you open deliciously.

“aw… poor y/n…” he mocks, “must’ve fucked your brains out, huh? you can’t even form a sentence…”

and all you can do is sob in response, because how were you supposed to respond when he was fucking you this good? so good to the point where you’re seeing stars in the middle of the afternoon.

suguru can’t say that he’s not jealous even if he wanted to, because he is jealous. when he turned over and seen that freshman shamelessly flirting with you and staring down your shirt at your cleavage, he seen red.

no one should see you like that.

and no one but him will see you like this. with your mini skirt flipped over the globes of your ass, a hole ripped at the crotch of your stockings, and how much you cream on his cock.

they also won’t know how fucking amazing you feel. how your pretty little pussy flutters on his cock, how you clamp down on it saying “‘s too much, suguru!” but continue to swallow him in then beg for him to cum inside, and they won’t know how it feels to fill your cunt full with cum.

because only he will, no one else.

୨୧ NANAMI KENTO

❥₊ ⊹ nanami was always your favourite professor and you were always his favourite student. so when you asked him if you could TA for his economics class, he wasn’t going to say no to you.

when it came to coming up with lecture plans, marking student’s assignments, and leading discussion groups, nanami always made sure to help you with anything you needed, anything.

“shit… mmph! k-kento…” you moaned out loudly, your manicured hands run through his blond hair, softly tugging at the strands. he has you sprawled out on his desk in his office, all of his knick knacks messily pushed out of the way and your skirt flipped upwards with your black lace panties pushed aside.

nanami groans into your pussy at the feeling, “shh, sweetheart… can you stay quiet for me?”

and as much as he’d love for you to be loud so everyone could know how good he was making you feeling, there were still students, other TAs, and professors still in the office building.

“yeah… ‘m gonna be quiet for you…” you mumble out, staring at the man between your legs. and what a sinful sight it is.

his usually put-together appearance completely diminished. tousled hair, his white dress shirt is unbuttoned, and his head is ever so sensually peppering small kisses in between your inner thighs.

“good girl…” he coos at you, then returning to his ministrations and pressing a light kiss to your puffy clit. kento licks a long stripe up your slit, gathering your slick on his tongue and savouring the taste of you then slipping a finger into your messy hole, hitting the right angles that makes you see stars.

but it wasn’t enough, you need him. all of him.

“ah, need more kento…” you beg, gently pulling head up by his hair. “fuck me, please.”

and who was he to deny you? kento hastily unbuckles his belt, pushing his khaki pants and boxers down, then lets out a hiss when the cool air meets his throbbing cock.

“fuck… you think you’re prepped enough to take me, baby?”

“yes, mr. nanami.”

flseur © all rights reserved, do not repost, take inspo from my layouts or themes, translate, or claim as your own.

[loafgeto]

ᝬ 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗦𝗞𝗜𝗥𝗧 ⤵︎

gojo satoru x fem!reader

synopsis: you are the teacher assistant for gojo satoru and the first years. in everyone’s eyes, you both are known as the duo who tolerate each other. but behind closed doors, you both can’t seem to get your hands away. and during a cookout, you seem to be capturing someone else’s attention, causing satoru to become jealous.

cw: fem reader, 18+ mdni, explicit language, secret relationship, jealous gojo, cocky gojo, teasing, dirty talking, edging, markings/hickeys, overstimulation, squirting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, somewhat jealous sex, creampie, breast play, sucking and biting, begging, cock warming, pet names (baby, darling), different positions, gojo telling/controlling reader what to do. this isn’t proofread, and if you see any typos pls ignore 😢

wc: 3.9k

a/n: HELP I HAD TO REPOST THIS DUE TO SOME ISSUES. LMFAOOO HOPEFULLY THIS POST IS BETTER NOW, TOJI ONE SHOT NEXT

You've been working at Tokyo Jujutsu Tech for almost a year now, as the teacher assistant of Gojo Satoru. You honestly never thought you'd be the strongest sorcerer's assistant, but Satoru happened to request for someone by his side. Thus, lead to your encounter.

When you were first introduced to Satoru, it was like any other first impression for him, admiration. He was rather nonchalant and playful around you, knowing how to push your buttons, and definitely confident in himself. That admiration quickly turned into toleration, but you remained respectful towards him.

Things began to change during the third month of being his assistant.

After a certain mission that nearly caused your death, Satoru often stayed by your side as you recovered and this lead to the secret romance. It was unexpected from a guy like him, but his feelings are genuine. The two of you agreed to date in secret, wanting to keep a professional impression for the time being and acted like normal colleagues in public.

But when you two are alone, Satoru can't help but touch and kiss you everywhere. He always wants you on his lap, or at least feel your touch. He inquires about your day, how he misses you, how much he adores your scent and aura, how much he thought about fucking you. Satoru was never afraid to admit his feelings, which is what made you fall for him even more.

Each day before and after class, you'd go to his office, and pepper kisses on his face and suffocate him in hugs. Satoru enjoys receiving it all, and the reason why he enters the classroom all bubbly and with a wide smile, was because of you. Everyone just had the thought that he was normally that way due to his personality.

It was yet another normal day and the two schools, Tokyo and Kyoto Jujutsu Tech, planned a cookout at a private park. On this day, you wore a simple attire: white blouse, black skirt, black tights, and stilettos. For some reason, Satoru liked the outfit on you, though he hadn't fully admitted it yet. But the way he looks at you made you believe he enjoyed seeing you in it. So you wore it often.

The teachers and other adults were occupied with preparing the food, while the students were occupied with a challenging game of soccer. Even though you weren't directly there, you could feel the tension arising from the field.

You were preparing a fruit salad while slightly watching the first years bicker with the second years of Kyoto and then proceed with the game. You smiled when watching, after all these missions and cursed spirits lingering around, it was great to settle and take a nice break.

For a brief second, your eyes scan across the entire area. Your eyes finally detected Satoru, who was mainly directing the game. He was supposedly playing the role coach for Tokyo Tech. He was shouting enthusiastically, encouraging someone to do this, or that.

Beside of Satoru was Utahime, seemingly doing the same thing as he was but in a more relaxed yet serious manner. The students of Tokyo seemed to be winning the soccer match, mostly because of the second year student, Maki. Her twin sister on the other team didn't appear to be happy, but that didn't make them win a point.

Your attention returns to Satoru, who had his back facing you. Then you look down at the fruit salad, wondering if you should offer the first bite to him and inquire on the taste.

"L/NN!!" Two of the first years, Yuji and Nobara, shouts towards you from the field, capturing your attention and everyone else's. They were waving at you, as if competing to get your attention first. You shake your head and return the two a wave and smile.

Satoru had also turned around when the two called for you, seeing how you were diligently preparing the fruit salad and waving at them. He was going to approach you, leaving Utahime alone to deal with this soccer game when someone else had approached you.

"Your students must really like you, huh?" it was Utahime's teacher assistant. You hadn't met the dude before and this was his first time approaching you since this afternoon. Your attention was torn away from Satoru as your gaze met with Utahime's assistant's.

"Oh, well I'm not necessarily their teacher but I know they respect me enough like I am one," you reply with a smile, finishing the last stir of the fruit salad.

"I heard your fruit salad recipe was very good," he continues to speak, watching as you finish the dish. "Mind if I try a piece?"

You glance at him, pondering for a moment. You assumed it wouldn't hurt to do so. "Of course," you nod, grabbing a plastic fork and piercing it through a strawberry, kiwi and pineapple.

You hand the fork over to him, expecting him to take it. But instead, he leans forward, taking a bite of the three fruits into his mouth. Your eyes slightly widen at the unexpected action and he quickly pulls away before you can react further.

"Wow! It's delicious!" he chuckles, chewing on the fruits and tasting the different sweet, rich and savory flavors.

"Well.. I'm glad you like it.." you awkwardly reply, slightly smiling.

"Of course. I'll definitely come back for more!" he says and laughs while placing a hand on your shoulder. He gives it several pats, to your surprise.

But you hadn't realize that Satoru was observing it all— from the moment he approached you, to the moment he ate those fruits, and to the moment he placed a hand on you. The interaction irritated Satoru, and he was unable to return to the game with a bubbly manner.

His mood suddenly changed, but he didn't want to express it. He forced a smile, enthusiastic shouts and returned his focus to the soccer match. But he kept glancing back at you, seeing how Utahime's assistant was still causally around you.

But it wasn't like he could do anything. If he did, he'd cause an entire scene, and Utahime's assistant seemed rather nice, but his actions annoyed the hell out of Satoru. Why was he all up on you like that?

Satoru acknowledged the image of you not reacting or anything, and it made him feel irritated even more. Was she actually offering to feed those fruits to him? He got jealous and upset over the fact that the assistant was the first to try your fruit salad and not him.

He also noticed your outfit. How several buttons were loosened to reveal the chest area above your breast, how the skirt wrapped around your hips— shaping your ass and curves, how the tights were making the entire outfit appear more striking. And gosh, how he wanted to rip it all off of you.

Satoru pushes his sunglasses closer to his eyes, secretly rolling them beneath as he crosses his arms. Later, he'll decide what to do with you and that guy.

When the food was all prepared, the adults waited for the students to end their soccer game and gather around the picnic tables. Satoru stood behind of you, watching as you excitedly presented your fruit salad to everyone.

"Oh, Sa— Gojo!" you had turn around, surprised that he was standing there. You found this as an opportunity for him to try your fruit salad before giving it out to the rest. "Would you like to try my fruit salad first?"

Satoru gave it a brief thought as he glanced at you and then the bowl of the fruit salad. He gives you an unnatural smile before replying, "no thanks. I'll get it once everyone else does."

For some reason, his rejection shattered your heart but you nod, watching as he walks away shortly afterwards. You decide to ignore it, since it shouldn't affect you as much but the uncertain feeling in your body kept causing you to gaze back at him.

The remainder of the cookout, Satoru was deliberately avoiding making contact with you. And even if he spoke to you, it'd be short and simple. Of course, this sort of behavior wouldn't appear suspicious to others, but between the two of you, there was definitely some tension.

You wondered if you did anything that made him upset, but nothing was coming to mind. You knew for a fact that he was mostly focused on the game and you barely interacted with him. But you hadn't known about Satoru's observations from earlier, so you were left utterly confused.

The cookout finished with no further complications and the students decided to play one more match of soccer. Everyone was pumped after eating so much, and the first years were definitely determined on winning since the last match came to a draw.

You began searching for Satoru when you realized he wasn't around anymore. More confusion arose as you figured he'd want to participate and watch the entire thing. You tried not to worry too much, assuming he'd gone to the restroom or something.

Your attention about Satoru's whereabouts was shortly interrupted when Utahime's assistant approached you once again. "So, Y/n? After this— it's gonna be a while until I see you again."

"Huh? Oh, that's right," you nod your head, smiling politely as you've done before.

"We should definitely keep in contact some how— since you know, we both happen to be teacher assistants and we can share our stories with each other—" he begins to ramble, taking his phone out when a voice appears behind the two of you.

"L/n," it was Yuji, completely oblivious about the situation. "Gojo-sensei said for you to meet at his office, asap. Seems quite urgent. Man, you both are gonna miss the game!"

"O-Oh. Yes, of course. It's fine, Yuji, thank you though," you nod your head before dismissing yourself. "It was nice to meet you. I hope we can be good friends," you quickly utter to the other assistant before heading towards Satoru's office.

Maybe this was the chance to finally talk to him about earlier.

You anticipated on what could occur once you arrived, many scenarios raced through your mind as you kept walking. Whatever it was, you just wanted to know what you did and solve the problem with him.

When you approached the door to his office, you hesitated on opening it at first. But you were quick to push your feelings away and slid the door open, stepping inside and closing it behind. The room was dim, the only source of light was the sun peeking through the small opening of the closed curtains.

You immediately spotted Satoru resting on his chair, head leaned back, as if he was sleeping. A smile slowly appears on your face as you approach him quietly, guessing he was tired the entire time.

"Satoru?" you called out to him, gently tapping his shoulder. He didn't budge and remained asleep, to which made you frown. "Hey, you can't just call me in here and then fall asleep on me."

Satoru still didn't answer and you sigh, deciding to just return to the rest. "I'm going back then—“

As you were about to turn around, Satoru's hand quickly reached up to grab your wrist. The sudden action caught you by surprise, and Satoru pulls you down on his lap.

"S-Satoru?" you stammer, realizing that he had been awake and pretending to sleep.

"You know the reason why I called for you?" Satoru asks, finally opening his eyes. He then used his other arm to wrap around your hips, pulling you closer while keeping his other grip on your hand.

"Of course not.. that's why I'm here.." you smile awkwardly. "Is something the matter, 'toru? You've been avoiding me all day. Did I do something wrong?"

"Guess," Satoru answers vaguely, releasing his grip from your wrist and moving them down to your inner thigh. He starts caressing them, feeling the tights that hugged your skin.

"S-Satoru?!" you gasp, feeling blood rush to your cheeks. You start wondering what he was trying to imply, and returned to the moment with your interaction with Utahime's assistant. And you finally figured Satoru must've saw it.

"Acting all flirty in front of me, huh? Trying to get me jealous?"

"No! Of course not!" you pout, wrapping one arm around his neck. "Only have eyes for you.. I wasn't flirting with him, I promise. I only want your attention 'toru. Please."

Satoru wasn't going to let this slip past easily, and you knew that. When he was jealous, he was stubborn. And it took a while for him to forget this matter. Satoru huffs, lifting your body and changing your position to where you straddled his lap. "Why'd he get to be the first to try your fruit salad, baby?"

"You're upset over that?”

"He was also touching you. Being all over you. Fucking bastard," Satoru scoffs, placing both hands on your hips. "He was checking you out, getting hard because of this damn outfit you're wearing."

Satoru then lifts your skirt, pushing it above your hips to reveal your laced panties under the tights. You knew where this was going, but you didn't stop it at all. "You purposely wore this, didn't you?" Satoru inquires.

"Wore it for you.. only you, no one else," you reply, feeling your legs already tremble as Satoru presses your hips down against his crotch. You could feel his throbbing erection, poking your panties that were now soaking.

"I don't like it. Might as well take it off," Satoru says, moving his hands along the curves of your body and up to your chest. He starts unbuttoning your shirt, pushing the material apart to where your breasts popped out.

Satoru pushes your bra up, exposing your nipples. He grins, using both of his hands to pinch and grope your boobs. You moan, body twitching at the sensation. "A-Ah.. Satoru-"

"Move your hips," Satoru orders and you immediately obey, rocking your hips and grinding against his hard cock that could no longer withstand the suffocation of his pants.

Satoru continues to pinch your nipples, getting more soft moans to escape your mouth. Your hands rest against his shoulder as you continue grinding your clothed pussy against him. Your arousal soaked through your underwear and tights, and eventually stained Satoru's pants.

"P-Please.. I'm sorry-" you beg before a higher moan follows after when Satoru latches his mouth on one of your boobs.

Satoru starts sucking your nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud, and gently biting down on it. Your grip on his shoulder tightens, nails digging through his shirt as your moans squeaked louder. His other hand fondling and pinching your other nipple.

Despite all of this, Satoru was always able to tease your breast in a way that'd make you squirm. He switches between your two breast, making sure to pleasure each nipple, before leaving bite marks. He sucks on the skin of your breast next, leaving hickeys on several areas before returning his mouth to your nipple.

Satoru removes his mouth from your nipple, creating a pop sound before leaning back against his chair. He smiles, observing your reactions. "Hold your breasts," he orders again as his hands trail to your hips.

You end up following his order, cupping both breasts in your hands as Satoru rips your tights open, giving your soaked panties a brief observation. He smirks, seeing how your arousal was already slicking down your inner thighs.

"Would you look at that," Satoru murmurs, pressing his middle and index finger against the soaked area of your panties. He rubs circles on your clit before pushing the material to the side, feeling your arousal drip on his fingers.

It was enough to the point Satoru finally unzips his pants and slip his dick out. He uses one hand to lift your thigh up, making you crouch on your feet, and the other to pump his throbbing cock.

"F-Fuck.. Satoru- need your cock in me."

"You gotta be patient, baby," Satoru replies, grunting softly as he aligns his cock to your entrance. His cock twitches at the sensation of how wet you were and he pushes his tip in, already feeling your pussy pulsating.

You both let out a moan as Satoru sinks his cock deeper into your cunt, stretching you out until his entire length was in. "Shit. Ride me, baby," Satoru requests, his hands returning to grip your hips.

With no hesitation, you comply and start moving up and down, bouncing on his cock in a steady pace. You're moaning louder while your hands are still cupping and fondling your breasts.

"That assistant must be thinking about doing this with you too, don't you think?" Satoru inquires, holding back his hoarse grunts as he felt your walls clench around him as you moved up. "But I do it better, don't I? I touch you better 'nd make you feel better?"

"Y-Yes 'toru! Only you can make me feel this good!"

"That's right," Satoru's smile becomes wider as he gropes the fat of your ass with his hands.

Satoru begins assisting you by pushing your hips down faster, his balls smacking your ass as the sound of skin slapping and moans permeate the room. He watches at how your breasts bounce each thrust, even when you're holding it, but seeing your face was the best of it all.

"D-Damn.. squeezing me so good, baby," Satoru grunts, thrusting his hips upward slightly.

"Fuck- cumming soon," you throw your head back, feeling his cock rub against your g-spot every thrust. You were so close and began bouncing faster in order to reach your climax quicker.

But Satoru doesn't allow that to happen. He knew you were close, and when you were about to cum, he immediately stops your movements. Your eyes wide in shock, completely aggravated with how he stopped and didn't allow you to cum.

"Satoru, you—"

He was quick to shush you by pressing his mouth against yours, to which you return. The kiss turns sloppy, as your tongue presses against one another's, fighting for dominance. Your hands release the grasp of your breasts to wrap around Satoru's neck, pulling his body closer to yours. Satoru then lifts you from the chair, pinning you down on his desk, knocking off several of the small decorations sitting there.

Satoru pulls away, spreading your legs apart before pushing your thighs closer to your chest. "You're gonna cum when I tell you to, got it?" he says, not accepting any objections before slamming his cock right back into your dripping cunt.

"S-Shit!" your hand tries to reach for something to grab, but your mind is foggy and you swore you were already seeing stars. You were still close, on the brink of cumming all over him and you almost came without notice.

Satoru starts thrusting his cock fast and deep into your pussy, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as his hips slam into your ass. Your noises fall of your tongue each thrust, knowing you'd probably lose your voice later.

"Goodness, baby. Taking my cock so good, like you always do."

Satoru throws both of your legs over his shoulder, firmly holding your legs as they begin trembling. Tears have welled the socket of your eyes and they eventually start rolling back as Satoru maintained the position and thrusts.

"I-I can't, Satoru- gonna cum!" you couldn't hold your orgasm anymore, and even before Satoru could reply, you cum on him and his desk.

Satoru doesn't say anything besides scoff, and even when you came, he kept fucking you relentlessly. It was driving you insane, the feeling of him still thrusting into you after cumming.

He switches the position again, this time he wraps your legs around his waist before lifting you up with his hands cupping under your thighs. You snake your arms around his neck for a better grip, head dropping against his shoulder as he pistons his cock up into you.

He'd then push you back down on the desk, making your body turn to the side and lifting one leg over his shoulder, before thrusting back into you. Afterwards, he'd flip you on your stomach and pound you from the back, leading to your second orgasm.

Satoru would make you touch yourself, scream his name and tears stream down your face. He'd make you reach multiple orgasms until you couldn't anymore. Your throat began to hurt from all of the moaning and screaming, but that didn't mean Satoru stopped.

He lifts you up again, walking with you over to the window. You're unable to comprehend what he was doing by that moment before he slides the curtains open. His office view directly overlooked the field, where everyone still currently were.

"W-Wait, Satoru they're gonna see-" you panic slightly, feeling your feet come in contact with the ground as Satoru makes you face the window and everyone participating the ongoing soccer match.

"Let them see, and watch how many times I've made you cum," Satoru says, raising his hands to grip your biceps before filling your swollen pussy with his cock again.

Satoru pumps his cock in and out of you, the angle allowing him to hit your spots deeper and better. The sensation was too much for you to handle, but it was making you to the point where you're begging for more.

You could see everyone else enjoying their time in the soccer field, and your eyes detect Utahime's assistant by the side. His back was turned against you, so you didn't see his face but he seemed to be enjoying his time since he was cheering and clapping his hands.

If he'd turn around and look up, he would immediately be able to see you and Satoru.

"'toru— I'm gonna cum again!" you sob, feeling the tip of his cock kiss your womb. Your legs became wobbly, but Satoru held you up with his firm grip.

"S-Shit.. me too, darling." Satoru's thrust were becoming erratic as he neared his climax, groaning and throwing his head back slightly. "Gonna cum in you, baby. You okay with that?"

"Yes, yes, yes!" you chant, turning your head around to meet his gaze.

Satoru grits his teeth, thrusting his hips closer several times before pushing his cock all the way in, pumping his cum into your womb. You came at the same time, and you both share a final moan before your back fell against Satoru's chest.

You're both gasping for air heavily, body soaked in sweat while the room smelled like sex. You both remain there for a moment before Satoru kisses your cheek and trails his lips down your neck.

"Looks like we won the game," Satoru says when he glances out of the window, seeing the first years and second years of Tokyo Tech cheer in victory. You also look out of the window, watching as they all celebrated.

"I wasn't mad at you, by the way," Satoru adds, returning his head to your side before kissing your face again. "You're not upset at me either, baby?"

"No.." you shake your head, facing him before pressing a kiss on his lips.

Satoru slips his cock out, watching as his cum mixed with yours drip out of your pussy. He chuckles softly and smirks. "Good. Let's clean you up before we go back."

LOAF4U. thank you for reading! please do not copy my work or publish in another media without my permission.

[mmeskywalker]

|| teachers pet

summary: HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN is your professor. a couple of weeks ago, he assigned you to tutor a student who had to retake his class. dylan was a sweet, attractive guy and you had no problem tutoring him. however, noticing the shift in the two of your behaviors, professor christensen began developing a problem. he wanted you to himself.

a/n: i made a janitor ai bot on this au, let me know if you’d like it love, xoxo.

warnings: possibly DDDNE, porn WITH a plot, jealousy, possession, no protection (p in v), biting, choking, age gap, cream pie.

you were a wonderful student; always writing notes, listening intently to your professors lectures, your eyes glued to his lips as the information stuck to your skin like a thick coat of glue. the same skin you wanted your professor to suck, and nip until it bruised a pretty purple.

inhaling, you watched the clock strike two. the class had ended and your peers were packing their belongings, heading toward the door, as PROFESSOR CHRISTENSEN wiped the chalkboard off. his fingers wrapped around the eraser, his arm swiftly moving across the space as he waited for you to walk up to him. earlier, he requested to speak to you in private after class. of course, you were nervous, but you replied with a simple, “whatever you want.”

with a deep inhale, professor christensen cleared his throat, the subtle sound resonating through the empty classroom, “thank you,” he said, setting down his eraser. he leaned against his desk, his eyes traveling sullenly your way, and when he finally spoke, there was a noticeable hint of vagueness in his usually direct tone. "there’s a student i’m concerned about, and i believe you would be the perfect tutor for him.” his voice lowered slightly, careful and demanding all at once.

“straight to the point,” you muttered, trying to hide your disappointment with a laugh as you sat in front of him, “so,” you blew out a breath, “who would i be tutoring, professor?”

"dylan grimes. he’s new here, started some time ago," he began, "very bright, but has trouble keeping up with the pace of the class. i thought, seeing as you were so kind..." with a sly grin, he reached for your hand, his thumb caressing your palm, "...you might help him out a bit."

you couldn’t resist the tantalizing scent of his cologne mingling with the familiar scent of chalk dust, cigarettes and paper. it made your head spin. you could rarely tell him no anyway, thereforth you found yourself accepting his offer, “i’d be delighted.”

professor christensen chuckled softly, tilting his head back slightly in appreciation of your response. he stood up straight again, crossing the few feet separating you to stand loom over your frame, his cologne becoming stronger now. placing his hands on your shoulders, he leaned closer still, his plump lips brushing against your ear as he spoke in a husky whisper, "i knew you wouldn't let me down." his warm breath grazed your sensitive ear canal, causing goosebumps to form on your neck once more.

dylan grimes was kind. he wasn’t angry that the professor wanted him to have a tutor, rather he was grateful. he was grateful that someone would give him the time of day he needed to pass, because he never experienced that at home; he always had to figure things out on by himself. you tutoring him was a blessing, and he made sure to let you know how much he appreciated you.

“thank you, really,” dylan exclaimed, closing his notes, “i don’t know where i’d be without you.”

his brown curls bounced off of his forehead, hitting his freckled skin as his glimmering green eyes peered graciously onto yours. they were shining from the glimpse of sunlight that shone through your dorm-room window, and god, you couldn’t look away. he had you captivated. “don’t mention it,” you smiled, “i’m glad i was able to give you that extra push. you’re doing great!”

it had only been a week since your professor assigned you to the task of tutoring dylan. he didn’t expect you to enjoy hanging out with each other; nor did he realize dylan was sneaking into your dorm late at night and thanking you in ways other than muttering a mere thank you. dylan was leaving flowers on your doorstep, slowly sneaking himself into your life, and even kissed your cheek from time to time. to you, it wasn’t a big deal. he was cute. you’re fine with getting that form of attention from a cute guy. but to professor christensen… he watched as dylan would smile at you throughout class, it made his blood boil. he hated the way dylan looked at you, the way he deemed only he could look at you.

stopping his lecture, he’d tap his ruler on his desk, “i hope you’re paying attention to this next part class,” your professor wouldn’t outright say dylan’s name when he pulled this stunt, rather he stared at him, hoping he’d stop undressing you with his eyes.

though, you weren’t paying much attention to your beloved professor, your eyes were glued to your phone screen, giggling down at the admiring texts dylan sent you throughout class.

“you’re so beautiful,” one said.

another one rolled in, “you’re intelligent, funny, and god… you coming into my life is something i thank the lord for every night.”

his words were sweet. however, the harmful gaze professor christensen had was not. he knew something was going on between you and dylan, and he’d be lying to say that it didn’t bother him.

he wanted you to himself; he wanted all of you to himself.

so… he called you to meet him after class.

now it was time. professor christensen gave you a faint smile before standing up, straightening out his suit jacket. "ah, take a seat.” he cooed.

he wasn’t ashamed to light cigarettes in the classroom, and right now, he needed to release some stress before he found himself losing his temper. “i wanted to talk to you about the project i assigned a couple of weeks ago," he mused. he carefully took a seat on his rolley chair, which moved back from his desk slightly, "i noticed… things have gotten quite… intimate between you and dylan during your tutoring sessions." he took a slow drag of his cigarette, blowing out a ring of smoke before exhaling.

raising your brows, you asked, “what do you mean?” as if you were confused. however, you knew exactly what he was implying. only, you didn’t expect him to confront you so meanlessly in a classroom setting. actually, scratch that. you never expected him to confront you on a matter you didn’t even believe concerned him in the first place. yet, the confrontation sent a chill down your spine, involuntarily causing you to cross your legs.

“am i wrong?" his brows furrowed slightly, displaying worry and slight disapproval. you shook your head, and he sighed. he knew that he's been overbearing lately, but he couldn't help himself. he needed you all to himself. the thought of you making love to someone other than him… he couldn’t fathom it. he’s imagined the sensation of your thighs wrapped around his waist, your arms tied around his neck, and the sweet taste of your pussy being savored on his tongue. it drove him insane. you drove him insane.

"don't pretend as if you don’t know what I’m talking about, sweet girl," professor christensen said, shaking his head lightly with a playful sigh. he stepped around his desk. despite being in his mid-forties, his muscular build was perfectly accentuated in his fitted black turtleneck, exposing the strong muscles of his arms underneath the sleeves he had rolled up to his elbows.

his dirty blonde hair fell messily over his brow, casting enticing shadows on the intense blue eyes that peered deeply into yours. "i know you've spent far too much time on your so-called 'tutoring sessions'. care to explain?" he leaned in closer, heat radiating off of him like a warm furnace against the cool classroom air.

you leaned back into your chair, looking at him through thick, heavy eyes, “i don’t have anything to explain. you wanted me to tutor him, didn’t you?”

following that, you swallowed thickly. you realized what was happening, and the way he was looking at you proved it. he was jealous. his gaze was practically burning through your skull. you crossed your legs tighter, squeezing them together as you tilted your head to the side innocently, “are you upset? because you shouldn’t be. his grades are going up, just as you wanted.”

to that, he raised an eyebrow, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "i did initially," he admitted grudgingly. "but things have gotten... too personal." he stepped forward, stopping mere centimeters away from you, reaching his hand out to cup your chin delicately, lifting it so that your eyes locked. "i like having you all to myself, darling." his warm breath was caressing your neck, his finger trailing down the base of your throat before his palm wrapped around your neck, "i like the way you moan when you touch yourself, i know how you’d squirm and arch into my touch,” slowly, he squeezed your neck, sending shockwaves of desire and fear coursing through your body. "i don't want anyone else claiming those sounds as their own."

you couldn’t respond, you could hardly breathe, but you weren’t making an attempt to stop him. the base of his thumb was massaging the side of your neck as he bit your sensitive skin, causing you to choke out a quiet whimper.

"see, i don’t give a flying fuck about dylan's grades, my love," he growled softly, placing his cigarette in the ashtray, “all i care about is you, and having all of you to myself.” standing straight again, he let go, this time towering over you. "the problem,” he continued softly, “the problem is you... you and your tempting body that has been teasing mine to its breaking point,” he spat, “no. the problem is dylan finding that same intensity and desire within you… i despise the thought of a specimen so low touching you in ways only i’m allowed to explore.”

“i’m selfish.” he sounded desperate, his palms caressing down your cheeks, “i want you all to myself. i want your heart, your body, and your mind. i want all of you.”

leaning forward, his breath brushed against your neck again. almost as if he couldn’t get enough of you. his plump lips dragged against the red marks from his previous aggression, lightly kissing the sensitive skin as his hand moved downward to cup your denim-clad ass, "i don’t want to share you with that young man," he growled, before grabbing ahold of your wrists.

he pulled you closer until your chest was pressed against his broad one. his cock responded instantly to your nearness, hardening painfully in his pants, and he let out a low groan. "i don’t want to see you with him anymore," he bit almost dangerously, his voice husky with desire.

“professor.” your voice fell flat as turned you around and backed you into a wall.

releasing your wrist slowly, he whispered, "dear, sweet girl," he exhaled heavily, his chest expanding and contracting. "i see it in your pretty eyes. don’t deny me of this." his knee was pressed between your legs, his cock pressing harder against your crotch, making it obvious just how much his desire for you was burning.

"don’t treat me like some weak-minded scholar that needs to indulge in the company of other students," he whispered, his breath ghosting softly against your ear. "i know you, my love. i know you crave more, deep within your soul." his hands moved down, gripping your hips firmly. he pushed you back against the cool stone wall of the classroom, his erection now pressed firmly against your stomach, pulsating through the fabric of his pants.

his voice grew huskier, each syllable washing over you in an unrelenting wave. "i crave you as much as you crave me, sweetheart, more than my next breath. you make me insane, you make my dreams obsessed with tasting you, taking you, owning you. i won’t let you see him anymore, not if I have anything to say about it."

reaching for your button fly, he yanked it open with rough agitation before tearing at the zipper in one swift motion. "tell me you want this, tell me you want me, tell me so i know i can continue.”

with shaking fingers, you pulled down the zipper of his trousers, freeing his impressive length from its confining prison. he groaned deeply, his warm breath fanning over your cheek, as he palmed your ass, squeezing it firmly.

"finally yours," he growled, as if claiming you for his own, before his hips rocked forward, his throbbing cockhead pressing against your wetness.

"fuck..." you managed to whisper, your voice cracking slightly. "of course i want you."

that was all he needed to hear. without warning, he slammed into you, claiming you with brutal force yet with immense pleasure. his dick throbbed inside of you, stretching you slowly, making you gasp and arch your back into him as he picked up a steady rhythm. his free hand gripped your hair, holding you in place while he took what he believed he owed.

"my pet," he groaned, his own raspy breath matching yours in a yearning rhythm, his lips attacking your neck, “my everything.”

"you belong to me," he proclaimed, as he thrusted into you relentlessly, pounding into you like he was making you his. your hips met his each time he thrust, aiding the process of taking you over completely. his other hand found its way to your breast, his thumb grazing over your nipple, as if begging it to harden under his touch. "and yet, you’ve never claimed me as yours, darling. it's about time you did." he growled, thrashing into you harder. you could feel every inch of him, and you covered your mouth to stifle a whimper.

"i dare you, little one," he urged, pumping into you with more ferocity. a sly look crossed his face, making his beautiful blue eyes darken as he continued to thrust. his hands never stopping their exploration on your body.

"say it, say you're mine," he growled, his hips driving into you, grinding you against the cold wall. "i won't stop until you admit to it, until i see the fire in your eyes that only I can ignite.” you struggled slightly, only to be yanked back by his desperate hands, his thumb digging into your nipple.

"say you're mine, all mine," he whispered, his breaths coming harder, his hips driving into you more frantically.

"all yours,” you whimpered, your voice breaking with each thrust. despite moments of discomfort, there was an undeniable thrill coursing through your veins, a mix of desire and submission. your body was wrapped around his like a glove, and you found yourself worshiping him, craving his touch.

that’s all he needed to pick up the pace, his thrusts getting faster and stronger.

he leaned forward, his lips met your ear as he mumbled, "don’t forget it, sweetheart." his breathing quickened, and the intensity of his thrusts grew as if he was trying to mark you as his. the room grew hazy, the dimming lights and the sound of our bodies colliding echoing in the empty classroom. "you are mine," he insisted, "no one else deserves to touch you, no one else deserves to have you."

as he rammed into you, you could feel the approaching climax, the build up of pleasure stabbing at every nerve. "that's it, sweetheart. feel it!" he roared, his voice graveled with lust. you clung to him, your nails marking his back as you sucked him in. as he thrust harder, you cried out, the climax building up within you like a tidal wave. with your body quivering and pulsating, each thrust felt like a stab at your core, an explosion of pleasure and desire.

you clung to him, riding the wave of ecstasy as his thrusts grew more frenzied. he moaned into your ear, his teeth grazing your skin, bathing you in his passion.

"yes, yes..." he urged, panting heavily as he thrust, his dick swelling with each thrust. "come for me, my love. let go... let me have you..."

finally, the climax hit you like a truck, engulfing your entire body in waves upon waves of pleasure. you collapsed into him, your breaths heavy as you panted against his neck, clinging to the last remnants of the intense pleasure.

"you're beautiful. that was perfect, just fucking perfect,” he groaned against your ear, his hips flexing, plunging into you one last time before he let go, shuddering and gasping. “f-fuck,” he whimpered. his whole world crashed onto you as he filled you to the brim with his seed, the warmth of his release pulsating within you.

he tugged at his pants, gathering himself before he slowly pulled out of you, his chest heaving. "god, that was... you’re so wonderful, everything i imagined," he whispered, his breath hittingched with each movement. you nodded, your eyes still clouded with pleasure, your body still quivering from the force of the intensity.

sitting down, keeping one arm around you, he pulled you close, kissing the top of your head. "i still want nothing else but you, fresh out from a lecture and through each lesson." he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips, "and no one else."

"you will never see him again," he added, his voice firm, "i could never allow that." you just nodded, nuzzling against him as the afterglow of the encounter enveloped both of you.

"what do you think, my love?" he asked, biting his bottom lip, his eyes darkening "can you keep a secret?" you looked at him, nodding slowly. "i’ll keep our little secret,” you whispered, kissing his neck gently.

[gor3-hound]

resident evil works (dark content)

☆ can't fight this feeling ▪︎ part one ▪︎ part two

ft. incel stepbrother!leon x reader

tw: stepcest, non-con/dub-con, somno

He'd been rejected more times than he could count, leaving him a little bitter. He's in his twenties, and he hadn't even had his first kiss. It was fine… totally fine. He wasn't mad about it at all. Women just didn't understand how nice he was. He'd treat his girlfriend so good if a girl would just give him a chance! He's started to give up on his exploits, coming to terms with the fact he'd probably just die a virgin. That is, until he's blessed with a miracle. Must be divine intervention, he can't believe he got this lucky. His dad ends up telling him he's getting married to the woman he's been seeing for a while, and drops the fact that she has a daughter that's just a few years younger.

☆ are you lonely?

ft. real dad!leon x reader

tw: incest

His gaze finds you again before long. His eyes flick over your form, hovering on your curves for a moment before he frowns. Jesus. Since when did he look at his daughter like that? Since when did his daughter look like that? Must of been a while, but he's only really noticing it now He's only been gone for a week, but it feels like a lifetime. You're always so happy to see him, always acting so domestic. You cook for him, clean for him and cuddle up to him after he's had a particularly tough day. You'd make a good wife for someone one day.

☆ sweet creature

ft. wolf!leon x bunny!reader

tw: slight dub-con, predator/prey dynamics

“If you listen to me, I'll be gentle.” He coos, licking a stripe up your cheek, groaning at the salty taste of your tears. “If you don't… well, I'll sink my teeth into the back of that pretty neck of yours and take what I want.” He growls, the expression on his face darkening. “We don't want that, do we?”

☆ meant to be yours

ft. rookie!leon x obsessive!reader

tw: self-mutilation, cannibalism

“Did you need anything else today? Or is that all?” You ask politely, your hands idly brushing the edge of the counter - desperate for something, anything to ground you as you wait for his response. The anticipation was enough to drive you mad with desire, but you had to stay composed. If only Leon could understand how much you truly wanted him. How much you needed him to see you, to really see you, not just look at you. What you'd do for him to touch you. Consume you. Become one with you.

☆ i apologise if you feel something

ft. leon kennedy x reader

tw: non-con, domestic abuse

“Cute. Real fucking cute.” He hisses, grabbing your jaw roughly so you're facing him. He seems to get even angrier when he sees how terrified you look. “Aww… baby. You're scared?” He coos, a mocking pout making its way to his lips. “You should be grateful. I'm keeping you safe. You have no right to be scared. If you knew what I've seen, what I've been through-”

☆ don't hold your breath (nobody's home)

ft. uncle!leon x niece!reader

tw: incest, non-con

You really need to stop with those tits. He's gonna lose it if they brush his arm one more time. He's not sure what it is about you, particularly, that has him acting like a teenage virgin again, but his self-control is wavering by the second. He hasn't paid a single second of attention to the movie he was meant to be watching to keep his mind off of you. Fuck this. He takes a swig of whiskey that drains half the liquid in his cup in one gulp. Liquid courage and all that. Maybe he'd drunk a little too much while he was here, ‘cause his brain clearly isn't working right. Not when he's pinning you to the couch, kissing your neck despite your protests.

☆ teacher's pet

ft. professor!leon x student!reader

tw: power imbalance, dub-con

He's sick of it. He's sick of you. He retired and took on teaching college kids in the hopes he'd finally have some time to relax, but you seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell. He'd had enough of it. As you're packing up once he dismisses the class, he makes his way to your desk, his footsteps echoing across the lecture hall. “Not you, miss. I need to have a word with you. Please come to my desk once you're packed up.” He tells you, tapping two fingers against your desk as he leans in to speak before he's returning to sit at the desk at the front of the hall.

☆ over again

ft. kidnapper!leon x reader

tw: forced ddlg, heavy dub-con

You go limp when he touches you. Docile. You let him do what he wants to you, just like a good girl should. Back-talking daddy is a big no-no. He wrote that in big writing on the rule list that's pinned to the fridge. Escape didn't use to seem impossible, yet now the thought never even crossed your mind. You'd tried, but he kept a tight lock on you. You wouldn't be surprised to find out one of the many injections he gave you when you were unruly had a tracker in. He always seemed to know exactly where you were.

☆ cry for absolution

ft. priest!leon x reader

tw: non-con

”Please,” he whispers, voice cracking as he gazes at you fully, your face slowly coming into focus. What did he do to deserve this? He was a good man, wasn’t he? He’d tried his best to help the less fortunate, to be kind to everyone he spoke with. Had he committed some sin without realising it? Some blight against God that meant he deserved this? "Please, I don’t want this. You’re misguided, that's all. I can help you. You don’t have to do this.”

As always, his protests fall on deaf ears. He feels the steady stream of tears running down his face, brows pinching together as you back him up into the confessional. His chest continues to grow tighter and tighter until his lungs constrict painfully with each breath. The air gets caught in his throat and makes him choke, his brain shutting down as he just lets you free him from his vestments and tug down his trousers. He's glad to be rid of the collar, at the very least. It feels less like God was bearing down on his throat to drag him to Hell for letting this happen.

[mwahsturns]

📝 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐒 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 - MATT STURNⵊOLO

professor!matt sturniolo x student!reader

Contains: HEAVY smut/oral (female receiving)/fingering/p in v/creampie/swearing/A lot of praise/teasing/flirting/pet names/ unprotected sex/aftercare/fluff. Semi-proof read! And I think that’s it let me know if there’s more.

Synopsis: you’re an 18 year old freshman in college and you’ve always been in love with writing, your whole life you’ve always been hiding behind your books and your writing. You decided you wanted to go to college because you knew you wanted to become something with your writing, you’ve always had big dreams about your work and you knew you could do it. But one day you find out your regular professor had quit his job because of an injury and you were getting a new teacher. What happens when the new professor offers to get you a head making sure you make it where you need to be?, and you end up fucking your new professor.. Mr sturniolo.

Author’s note: i’m doing a collab with @iluvmattsbeard! go check out her version of the reader being the professor! this is my version where Matt is being the professor! i’m so so excited I had the opportunity of working on this with her. she is so so sweet and absolutely talented. i want everyone to show her some love and support because she deserves it! And please enjoy. 💗

* *:･ﾟ✧🏩*:･ﾟ✧

Today has been interesting to say the least, our regular teacher professor Charles quit due to an injury in his knee causing him to have surgery and he probably won’t be able to walk again. I as I walked into the classroom I see I’m the only student here, as I’m putting my stuff down I hear someone walk in.

I swear I felt my heartbeat when I looked behind me, there he was professor sturniolo I only know his name because it’s on his desk but not the point. God he looked so fucking sexy his hair wasn’t messy but it looked so effortlessly fluffy and he had these black glasses that framed his face perfectly, he also had a little blue ish button up shirt but it was slightly opened to where you could see his gold chain. He had some rings on and a watch on his right hand, his beige pants perfectly showed his cock just looking made my mouth water.

Fuck his beard too god this man was a whole walking sex object, I was quickly snapped out of my thoughts by his voice. ‘Hey your early” he says smiling ‘yea I’m always early’ I place my bag on my chair and sit on top of my desk with my leg placed on to of the other one. I noticed him look me up and down and I looked and saw my skirt has lifted a little bit. I was wearing a black and white long sleeve shirt, my cleavage Showing as my necklace sits perfectly on my chest. My skirt was short and plaid with some short sorta see through white socks and some black buckled heals.

‘Cute outfit” he winks and goes to write the agenda on the board, I smile and turn on my heels and sit on my desk and nibble on my pen smirking as I watched him. Eventually everyone started walking into the class and my best friend heather ran over to me and sitting next to me, ‘dude the new professor is so sexy!’ She smiles and as takes her books out, ‘I know we talked this morning’ I smirk as I take a sip of my water. ‘No wonder you’re in the front of the class’ we laugh as we hear professor sturniolo start to speak.

‘Okay guys so as you know professor Charles is out so I’m your new teacher, I’m Mr sturniolo and today’s assessment should be easy you need to write a short story about anything you’d like and share it to the class.’ He smiles and writes it on the board, ‘you guys have the next hour to write it then I’ll have all of you share yours with the class’ oh I got this in the bag I thought as I started writing.

————

The hour is up and he stands in front of the class as he gets ready to announce who goes first, I feel him starting at me as he starts to smirk. ‘You first’ he smirks as he tilts his head looking deeply into my eyes, ‘’me?’ I say confused. ‘Your names Y/n isn’t it?’ He says sassily, ‘yes sir it is’ I say with the same amount of sas ‘well then the floors yours’ he smiles and sits at his desk. I grab my paper and walk the the front of the class flatting my shirt as I begin to read, ‘We shall start with a secret couple, their names is professor Lucas, and a student named Sophia. The two are secretly in love but has yet to expose it to the world so let’s dive deep into their life styles before things get intimate…’ I say smiling as I continue to read.‘Sofia is a very pretty girl, amazing personality, great style, she is a phenomenal actress and she has a great judge of Character and if we need to speak about her body we can say that she has some amazing ideal curve and her face sits perfectly.

‘Professor Lucas is a great guy with amazing humor and he does a phenomenal job at teaching, (that’s what turns Sophia on) he cares for his class and he truly is the person you couldn’t hate even if you tried. Jumping in Sophia walks into lecture hall, looking a little bit more Expensive or extravagant, she is wearing her Golden necklace that says her name in a cursive writing a white button up long sleeve crop top tied at the bottom with a tripled white skirt and some white heals. (she truly loves the color white, she feel it enhances her look more) as sophia Is carrying her books, Professor Lucas takes notice and says ‘ah Ms Raven, please have a seat in the front for me.’ He says pointing out the seat closes to him smiling. Sophia walks down to take a seat and sets her notebooks down and gets her Mac-book out of her bag to place it elegantly on her desk.

Professor looked down and said ‘good morning sweetheart, why are you late?’ As Sophia looks up into his amazing beautiful emerald eyes and smiled saying ‘I woke up late sir’ she knows calling him Sir makes him feel respected and satisfied, ‘hmm see me after class young lady…’ as he continues the lecture. As the day goes on classes come to an end, which reminds Sophia to go meet with professor. As she arrived she placed a firm knock on the door and patiently waited for him to come and answer, in less than a minute the professor answered the door and said ‘Ms raven please come in’ as he smiled looked outside the door before closing it too lock it. He looked at her with a romantic expression. ‘I want us to get intimate, we’ve been kissing secretly hanging out for a while but now, I want to show you that I’m ready for another step and that is showing you that I want to dominate you and show you how much I love you in a different way’ ‘I’d figure you’d get the hook’ the professor looks confused when she says that and says ‘what do you mean?’ As he steps a little closer toward her, ‘I mean I’ve been wearing the slutty things to lure you in or to make you want to fuck me, I wanted to show you that I’m ready for the next step but I was just to afraid to ask.’

The professor steps closer to her them almost touching noses as he says ‘Mama you don’t gotta be nervous or afraid, if you want me to give it to you just ask me. I won’t even hesitate’ professor says as he slowly cuffed her Chin and pulled her into an intimate kiss inhaling deeply as it escalated.

Sophia continues the kiss for a few more moments before breaking it wrapping her hand in his tie, ‘I want you’ sounding a little breathless turning the professor on more. ‘I know you do baby’ the professor said gently brushing his hand down the side of her face, ‘lay down, and open your legs for me’ Sophia proceeds to do so as the professor smiled and watched, As she finished doing what he asked he then spoke ‘good girl’ as he then walked closer to her then sliding his fingers up her inner thigh to tease her already wet pussy. he rubbed his thumb around her clitoris teasing even more before gently sliding off her white see through lingerie panties. He took off his shirt revealing his soft skin and muscular chest.

sniffing the panties and throwing them to the side, he licked his middle and ring finger before rubbing her clitoris once again before loosing his belt and took of his cargo baggy black jeans revealing his huge cock print in his underwear. he took her hand and rubbed it around his print moaning and groaning a little. And just know you aren’t going nowhere….’ As I finished reading this class started clapping, I look at Matt to see him smirking arms crossed god he looks perfect.

‘Great job mrs L/N and um can you see me after class?’ I smiled and nodded my head as I walked back to my seat.

———-

Class ended and I’m packing up my stuff as I hear heather start talking, ‘girl your paper was so good like ugh i felt the emotion and I think professor sturniolo liked it too’ she winks putting on her backpack. ‘Who knows but I’ll see you after?’ ‘Duh ofc you will’ I laugh putting on my backpack, soon everyone leaves and I walk up to the professors desk. ‘You wanted to speak with me?’ I say smiling, ‘yea I did um your writing is so excellent your a very talented young lady’ he smiled leaning forward on the desk. ‘Well it is my specialty’ I smirk ‘mmh we’ll keep up the good work’ he smiles packing up his stuff ‘Will do!’ I laugh as I leave his class.

professor Sturniolo has been here for about two weeks now and to say I’ve got him wrapped around my finger is an understatement to say the least, he’s has been favoriting me for weeks now always giving me extra credit and pushing back deadlines for me I didn’t think anything of it until now.

‘Girl he’s so into you!’ Heather says as we enter the empty class, ‘I don’t know..’ I mean if that was true god it would fuel my sexual fantasies so much. ‘I’m telling you it’s a matter of time before he fucks you’ heather and I take our seats up front as professor sturniolo walks in, ‘good morning Y/N morning heather’ he says giving me this irresistible look that makes me just want him ‘Good morning’ I smile.

As I’m writing our notes for an essay coming up in feel him walk up to my desk as he wisphers in my ear ‘see me after class’ he says as he walks back to his desk. I can’t lie that did make me aroused I know it’s wrong but it also feels right.

————

As everyone left the class I see the smirk growing on his face as the class grows empty. Once the class is completely empty he stands up from his chair and leaned his back against his desk as his arms were crossed, ‘you know you’re a very special young lady..’ ‘mmh you think’ I smirk teasing him a little. ‘I do.. very much the work you’ve turned in has been exceptional your writing style is remarkable..” he walks over to my desk and leans down to my ear. ‘And i must say you’re a very beautiful girl..”

‘Thank you, I appreciate it’ I smile as he basically towers over me, ‘so you got a boyfriend?’ He says as he runs his hand through my hair ‘no.. what about you got a girlfriend or a wife?’ I say looking up at him. ‘Oh no it’s just me’ I mentally take note of that even though it shouldn’t matter to me ‘look your very talented and happen to be very beautiful and I want you to be more than just a basic writer you can be so much more’ he says sitting on the desk next to me ‘I know I’ve always believed I can do it I just wasn’t even sure how to start’ honestly I’m lying I know exactly why he’s saying all of this but I just wanna see how far he’ll take things.

‘Well how about this .. you help me and I’ll make sure you get right where you need to be’ he smirks ‘okay but how will I help you?’ I already know what he wants I just wanna tease him a little I’ve seen way to many teacher and student movies and books to not know. ‘What if you let me teach you a few things mmh? Fuck I can’t lie that did make me a little wet ‘mmh like what?’ I tease standing in his face, next thing I know I’m picked up and placed on his desk.

‘Let me please you..’ he says kissing my neck harshly. I can’t deny as the kiss gets longer the more I’m starting to crave more. He started kissing lower down my neck placing open mouthed kisses onto my breast, i tugged on his hair as his hand slid down into my skirt. ‘Well look at that my perfect student getting all wet for her professor huh such a slut..’ he says as he pulls down my skirt and my underwear harshly.

I bite my lip as I see him spit on his fingers I don’t know what has gotten into me but right now I need him in me, he takes his fingers and slide them into my dripping pussy as he gives me no time to adjust he fingers me very rough.

‘Oh my- fuck’ I moan throwing my head back biting my lip, ‘mmh feels good doesn’t it? He looks like a kid in a candy store the way he’s looking at my vagina right now. ‘fuck yes.’ He smiles at my response and stands up pulling his pants and boxers off and holy shit he’s fucking big.

‘That’s supposed to fit in me?!’ I actually am now kinda nervous, ‘mmh I’ll make it fit’ he walks back over to the desk and pulls my legs forward and now I’m laying down on his desk legs wide open how the fuck did I get here?. He slides into me and I swear to god I saw stars fuck he felt so good, ‘fuck your so tight’ he moaned pounding into me like he was getting a fucking pay check.

‘Oh fuck sir omg..’ I moaned maybe a little too loudly, ‘fuck-please call me Matt’ he tried to say as he let out a choked groan. God his name makes this 10x hotter. ‘Fuck Matt I’m so close’ I moan, ’yea cum on this dick baby’ his thrust getting faster but more deeper.

‘Fuck I’m gonna cum!’ I screamed ‘me too baby let it out mama’ he moaned as I came all over his dick and I felt his warm cum fill me. ‘Fuck you did so good for me’ he smiled kissing my lips softly, ‘I don’t think I can walk..’ ‘it’s okay I’ll clean you up’ he walks to his desk and gets a rag and wipes both of us down. Once were cleaned up and I’m standing he walked up to me and smiled. ‘Well I guess I’ll be fucking you more often huh?’ I smiled ‘oh definitely’.

I smiled and walked out of the classroom fuck he better give me a good grade for that.

A/n: I hope you enjoyed plus Don’t hate this is my first smut ever so I’m so so sorry if it’s bad pls leave some tips in my inbox!

Taglist!

@iluvmattsbeard @m9ttsverse

(COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED ONTO MY TAG LIST!)

[iamwonyoung]

teacher's pet? — k.mg

pairings — student!mingyu x teacher!reader

warnings — dynamics, (middle aged female reader x student mingyu), rough, fingering, protected sex, ass spanking, hair pulling, brief degradation. mdni!! if you're uncomfy pls don't read:(

w.c — 1.6k

[inspired by that one edit of hierarchy kdrama.]

***

"i don't understand what you're trying to say, mingyu," you said quietly, maintaining a serious tone, standing at your desk in an empty classroom just after dismissing your class.

"are you pretending not to understand, or you genuinely just love to act dumb?" he cocked his head, hands in his pockets, glaring at you.

his gaze made you shiver inwardly, but you were skilled at masking your emotions. despite wearing skin-toned stockings under your knee-length skirt, you couldn't shake off the cold feeling.

"mind your tone, kim mingyu," you warned sternly, giving him a firm glare. "i am still your teacher," you asserted.

he scoffed lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. "i'm curious," he paused, walking slowly towards you. "you've said that so many times, yet you've never taken any action," he said mockingly, almost cornering you against your own desk as you instinctively tried to step back.

"ah," he chuckled sarcastically, hands in his pockets. "because you enjoy it too," he said with a smile, suppressing a laugh.

he leaned closer, forcing you to lean back against your desk. you tried to avert your gaze but kept eye contact with him.

"do you like it too, ms. y/n?" he asked innocently.

he knew he had the ability to silence you if you dared to speak up, not that you would anyway. you were just weighing your options; you didn't want to risk losing your license over something so foolish.

he forced a small smile before straightening up. "i'll see you around," he said casually before walking away.

you couldn't help but exhale deeply once he finally left your classroom. you unbuttoned the top button of your blouse, trying to catch your breath. he always had a way of leaving you breathless, that damn student.

———

as the days passed, you couldn't help but notice mingyu always giving you the dirtiest looks, even during class. what's wrong with him? if anyone noticed, it could spell trouble.

after your science class, you smiled at everyone. "class dismissed. just a reminder to rest and not push yourselves too hard. approach tomorrow's exam the way you've always prepared," you reassured them.

they all responded with a "yes, ma'am" or "thanks, ms. y/n" before leaving the room. you sighed, turning to put away the papers in the drawer.

then suddenly, you felt a presence behind you. sighing, you knew it was him just by the scent and how massive he felt standing so close behind you.

you were about to turn around and face him when suddenly you felt both his arms at your side, his hands gripping the edge of the drawer.

your heart races with anticipation as you attempt to turn around, only to feel his face inches away from yours. his nose gently brushes against your jaw, inhaling your scent. unable to resist, you tilt your head slightly, granting him access. you were completely captivated by him, always finding yourself powerless in his presence. he had an uncanny ability to effortlessly infiltrate your thoughts.

"what are you doing?" you took a deep breath as you felt his other hand gently glide down to your side, delicately caressing your hips.

you didn't hear anything, then suddenly you felt a warm sensation on your neck, as his mouth gently caressed your skin. careful not to leave a mark, you tried to suppress any sounds, attempting to move away and regain your composure. however, he firmly held onto your hips, "stop moving." he said in a low tone, emitting a low grunt.

"don't." you tried to push him away.

fuck.

"let's not do this here-"

you were interrupted as you felt a firm hold on your jaw, causing your head to tilt further to the side, granting him unrestricted access to your neck. he sensually traces his tongue along your neck, causing you to let out a soft whimper. your hand instinctively tightens around the drawer, seeking support. you could feel his hips pressing against your back, his pants already tightening.

"you're so good, ms. y/n." he lets out a chuckle, "best fucking - teacher ever."

he delivers a strong smack to your ass, causing you to release a sigh and a sound. "this isn't right." you tried to warn him, but he seems determined. he's going to fucking have you inside your adorable lab classroom.

"but it will definitely feel amazing." you can feel his mischievous grin against your neck, as he boldly gives your backside a gentle squeeze before shamelessly lifting your skirt.

disappointed that you had a cycling short underneath. his hand gently moved from your knees to your inner thighs, exploring the intimate space between your legs. you flinched slightly, head resting on the drawer, sighing.

"you know what i like about you?" he smiled as he pulled your cycling down to your feet, along with your panty.

"you're all bark but not bite." he stood square behind you, sliding his finger along your wet folds.

"all talk.. but your body says the other wise." he chuckles. parting your lips and toying them.

you release a moan, subtly arching your back towards him in search of some friction. your desire is evident, and you no longer pay attention to his words. you no longer feel any guilt as your excitement builds, his fingers expertly teasing your sensitive folds.

he releases a soft laugh, playfully smacking your ass with his other hand. finally, he slides a finger inside you, causing an involuntary moan to escape your lips. you quickly cover your mouth, caught off guard by the pleasure.

"moaning already?" he chuckles.

his finger begins to move with intensity inside you, its size and length causing you to almost release a throaty moan. another finger joins in, further stretching you, and you can feel his knuckles pressing deep and his palm brushing against your other opening. it was an incredibly pleasurable experience, surpassing all expectations.

you find yourself leaning closer to the drawer, pressing your face against the cool, hard metal surface as he increases the speed of his movements inside you. the intensity of his touch makes you bite down on your palm, trying to stifle any loud sounds of pleasure. you were barely holding onto anything and he seemed to be enjoying the view of you, as you arched your back and lifted your hips. you're quite attractive for a middle-aged teacher. you were so much more than just a casual encounter.

"come on, let it out." he whispers.

he curls his finger deeply inside you, causing you to reach the peak of pleasure. you find yourself panting heavily, overcome by the intense sensation.

he firmly grasped your hair, pulling you down onto the desk. your back collided with the unforgiving surface, causing your belongings to scatter across the floor.

he swiftly unbuttoned your blouse, gently parting the fabric to reveal more of you. he bit his lower lip, casually undoing his zipper and unbuttoning his pants, revealing his arousal.

oh, fuck

it's thick, lengthy, and dripping with clear fluid, making your mouth water at the sight. it's going to give you an unforgettable experience.

he firmly caressed your breasts for a moment, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a condom pack.

"the fuck?" you muttered.

why does he have a fucking condom in his uniform pocket?

he sternly looks at you, "profanities, ms. y/n you are a teacher." he smirks mischievously, firmly caressing your chest with one hand.

he reached down, opening the pack of condom with his teeth and smoothly sliding it onto his erect member. a slight hiss escaped his lips as he felt the sudden friction. "fuck, yeah" he chuckles, giving himself a few confident strokes.

he positions himself at your entrance, gazing down at you as you close your eyes, surrendering to the moment. all other thoughts fade away as you focus solely on the intense connection between you.

he attempted to enter you, emitting a soft groan. as he gazed at the ceiling, the veins in his neck became visible, a sign of his effort to stifle any loud moans.

as soon as the tip of his member enters your intimate space, he wastes no time in proceeding. he stood there for a moment, gazing at your disheveled expression before thrusting his hips forcefully, causing you to struggle for breath and gasp uncontrollably. the sound you made was surprisingly hushed, almost like a subtle squelch.

he lets out a laugh, taking a moment to catch his breath before slowly pulling out. with a swift motion, he slaps his hip against yours, hitting a spot that sends waves of pleasure through you. it's so intense that your eyes roll back in ecstasy.

he then picks up the pace, finding a comfortable rhythm. his hands eagerly reached for your chest, gently pulling down your bra. he leaned down, lavishing attention on one nipple while teasing the other. all the while, he passionately sucked and nibbled your perky nipples. fuck.

"you feel so fucking good, such a nice slut." he moans deeply, thrusting his member into you with intensity, his hips colliding with yours, the sound of your bodies connecting echoes throughout the room.

"this is the only thing i enjoy about science class." he moves his hips with intensity, his member penetrating deep inside you, causing a mix of pleasure and pain.

you were so close, you could feel it. you attempted to reach out to warn him, but he firmly held your wrist in place, above your head. "stay still," he whispered.

the movement, the flexibility, the intensity. heck it seems like your mind is unable to process anything at the moment. with one powerful thrust, you felt your legs shake as you reached your climax. your head went blank as your vision disappeared.

he lets out a groan, berating himself as he gave you a few sloppy thrusts, his cum filling the condom, he delivers some messy thrusts before withdrawing, disposing of the condom by tying it and tossing it into the nearby trash bin next to your desk.

teacher's pet?

no.

more like a student's pet.

[your-nanas-house]

hi!! for your cillian requests what about jonathan crane w/ aphrodisiac :3

Hello! Sure thing, dear!!

The Conference

◇ Pairing: professor!Jonathan Crane x student fem!Reader

◇ Warnings: smut, dark, creampie, handjob, protected and raw sex, mean and sub Jonathan, Dom and sub Y/n, dub-con. (there's a lot of things in this fic)

◇ Summary: Dr.Jonathan Crane uses an aphrodisiac on himself and his poor favourite student has to help him.

◇ Note: This really may be one of the longest fic I ever written. It's also an amazing collaboration with @mrkdvidal1989. Well..Enjoy.

Darkness enveloped his surroundings as he moved closer towards the chemistry labs. The clicking of his shoes was the only sound he could hear, his footsteps echoing through the long corridor. He moved slowly and gracefully, his every move being a careful measure in an otherwise dim location.

As he got closer to the chemistry lab, the door appeared open, lights lit up the room inside, and he wondered if his favourite student was still working. 

His icy eyes moved down as his slender fingers pulled slightly up the sleeve of his suit so that he could check the time, 2:00 am he read silently before something quickly caught his attention.

There she was, in all her glory, his little pet, his favourite student, busy with her phone. All the materials and objects she had used were still scattered on the table, she was also still wearing the white lab coat even though her focus was clearly elsewhere.

Crane tutted silently, a mischievous grin stretched on his pink lips. Y/N had her back towards the door, oblivious to the fact that she wasn't alone in the lab anymore. Jonathan watched her carefully, noticing the light swaying and slumped shoulders caused by her tiredness. Perfect

After a moment he stalked closer, his perfectly polished black shoes moved soundlessly against the concrete floor without attracting her attention. Her small, fragile frame allowed him to easily peak over her shoulder, watching the compounds scattered on the table. A quick glance was enough to make him smirk again, as he recognized the familiar, violet but alluring  mixture.

”So hardworking.” He suddenly spoke up right by her ear, causing her to squeak, startled. Y/N turned around, eyes wide in surprise as she put hand on her chest in an attempt to calm down her pounding heart. 

”Professor Crane” She breathed out with relief, looking at him. For a moment the only sound filling the air was her deep breathing, before she straightened her back, looking up at him. ”I lost track of time and… and I'm almost finished with my project.” She explained with flushed pink, slightly ashamed that she overused his kindness staying in his lab for so long. Crane just nodded with understanding before he gestured towards the mixture, focusing back on her face. 

”Have you checked the clearance?” His voice was low, serious tone echoing through the room accompanying his emotionless expression. Distracted by his face, she blinked a couple times. ”a… a clearance?” Y/N repeated foolishly, completely not knowing what he was talking about.

Did I miss something? She wondered, as the sudden wave of anxiety tightened the knot in her stomach. 

”Yes. Have you checked it yet?” His blue eyes gazed into hers so intensely, that she couldn't focus properly. Shifting her weight from one leg to the other, she shook her head feeling like a child in trouble. 

”N-no, I haven't.. yet.” She replied quietly, acting like she knew what he was talking about. Jonathan had a hard time restraining his laugh, but he managed to keep his poker face. Nodding along, he shifted to the side. 

”Alright, go on then. Hold it up to the light and look at the consistency.” He instructed in a harsh, teacher tone. Y/n brushed a strand of hair away from her face nodding, before she grabbed the mixture, feeling her Atelophobia kicking back in. 

Holding it in the right hand, she held it up to inspect what her professor requested; a visible light shaking of her limbs made Jonathan’s blank face crack for a split second, allowing the switch to a devious smile that disappeared as soon as it came. Just perfect

Almost too easy, the psychology professor thought, his focused, predatory stare remained on the back of her exposed neck, his tongue darting to escape and wet his plumpy lips. In the process of waiting for the most appropriate time to act.

Jonathan maintained his predatory stare, not letting Y/n quivering limbs or trembling form escape from his sights. It was almost as if he was savouring the buildup, knowing that the effects of the aphrodisiac as soon as it will be taking complete control over his body—  such a perfect scenario to be able to take advantage of the vulnerable state his naive student will be in.

The professor felt his heartbeat quicken and his breath became heavier and shallower. It was as though he was becoming swept up in the moment as well.

”Is… is it good, Dr. Crane?” She asked in a shaky voice, standing two feet away from him, stretching her hands holding the mixture up to the light. Jonathan’s pupils widened slightly as arousal already started working in his body, adrenaline pumping in his veins. 

”Closer” He commanded quietly, watching her feet as she shifted towards the lamp hanging lowly from the ceiling. ”I said closer,” His voice became more harsh, more commanding the second time, startling her visibly. Y/n took a step, and as soon as she wanted to take the other one, her shoe caught on Crane’s foot which appeared out of nowhere on her path. 

A choked gasp left her mouth as she lost her balance, arms getting in the defensive position to minimise the damages in case of a fall. The little glass bottle fell out of her hand, hitting her professor in the shoulder before the content of it splashed on his neck and face, covering his skin in the weird fluid. 

As soon as it made contact, his body started tingling in an almost…pleasant way. Y/n’s body froze as Jonathan inhaled deeply, Adam's apple bobbing up and down visibly on his pale neck. 

Putting on his best acting skills, Crane’s face became red from the anger; despite the horrified look on her face, he fought against his amusement to keep the mask on. 

Huffing with anger he shook his head, trying to get as much fluid off of him as he could or rather trying to spread it better, moving frantically and suddenly. Appearing enraged, he slowly made his plan come true. Studying psychology for long years, he knew exactly what body language put on to be convincing enough. 

”Fuck!” He barked angrily, taking off the jacket with a huge stain on the shoulder. ”What the fuck did you do!” He yelled, turning to face her. His eyebrows furrowed at her frozen state, when she stood not moving, eyes teary and lips parted in shock. Crane couldn't help but notice how her hands trembled more.

Jonathan's anger turned into scolding as he continued to act mad, pretending to be absolutely furious with his poor tired student. He had to be completely convincing, for he wasn't really upset in the slightest.

"How could you be so careless?!" Jonathan asked, his voice filled with fake anger and disappointment  "Don't you know how dangerous that is?! Haven't I taught you anything at all?" he added, scoffing at her still shocked self. 

Jonathan could feel the strange liquid begin to seep down his skin, the sensation an eerie and disturbing one for him. His expression became neutral for a split second, before Y/N finally moved, getting his attention. 

”I-I’m… I'm sorry I… I don't know what happened, I-I… I didn't mean to…” She stuttered out, trying to explain herself and her clumsiness, completely unaware of the fact that she was only a puppet in his evil psychotic show. 

”It doesn't matter!” His voice boomed through her attempts of apologising properly. Y/n’s shoulders slumped, as she wanted to cover herself from shame, her body completely tense. 

Her heart was beating wildly, she could already feel the familiar tingling sensation caused by the negative emotions and the guilt, which was eating her. 

She was familiar with these emotions but still had difficulty mastering them, even though she had to...she didn’t want to make the situation worse with her still furious professor— risking that way to look even more pathetic as she fell into the vortex of stress that often ended in a painful and long panic attack.

Y/n wasn’t in the right situation or in the right place to give in to her fears and weakness, not even if the knot in her throat was making it pretty hard for her to breathe correctly. Focus she thought to herself, forcing her shiny eyes to snap back towards Jonathan’s face. Her nostrils slightly dilated and her jaw tightly clenched as if it would have helped her to let everything in and not show what she was actually feeling at that moment.

”I have a conference in…” He pulled his sleeve up revealing the expensive watch on his wrist, checking the time again. ”...an hour! Look what you did!” He pointed at the huge stain before scratching the itchy skin on the back of his neck. ”Fuck it starts working.” He breathed out heavily with a huff. 

At this point her face became teary, her breath getting heavier, her chest tight, and Jonathan couldn't be more happy from how well his plan was going. ”You are going to take me out of that state, and better do it fucking fast, unless you want me to talk to the principal about your lack of basic skills!” He spat out harshly, looking how wheels turned in her head before she gasped quietly at the realisation that… she didn't know exactly what the antidote was.. besides… sexually relieving the victim— since she based her whole experiment on Poison Ivy’s sex pollen. 

”Are you deaf?” He mocked, looking down at her with a stern facial expression, making Y/n finally snap out of her realisation; her body moving and turning back to the desk as she rummaged through the notes and components, trying to quickly find a solution as she read through her neat handwriting holding the papers with a shaky hand— her mind on the edge of panicking. 

Jonathan stood behind her, watching the desperation visible through her every move, he could clearly tell that her head was running miles. Suddenly his smirk started fading as the aphrodisiac fully penetrated his skin, getting to his nerves and beginning to work its magic. His pupils widened, icy blue irises almost invisible at this point. His breathing increased, skin started sweating more as his muscles clenched and relaxed alternately, causing him to lean back on the counter. 

Heavy sigh left his lips getting her attention, but she didn't dare to look at him for a longer moment. Up until he rolled his sleeves up, his veiny hand rubbed his arms, trying to relieve the stingy feeling all over his body before reaching down and rubbing up his crotch desperately, feeling the uncomfortable tension. Burning

Y/n’s eyes quickly fixed on her professor, studying his desperate state as she kept feeling guilty. Was it really her fault? She shouldn’t have worked on that project of hers in Dr. Crane’s lab and left her work-in-progress there at that hour, she should have brought it home or at least… paid more attention when her professor just tried to help her.

That’s what Jonathan wanted her to think.

The helpless expression on his face covered snugly the satisfaction in his icy, blue eyes. The poor girl, he thought, watching the worry and guilt in her gaze. He gulped loudly, panting dramatically as his pale and freckled skin flushed due to the effects of the strong aphrodisiac she….well, he spilled on himself.

A thing that he didn’t plan though, were the pretty strong and painfully annoying effects that Y/N included in the project, due to the limited knowledge about chemical compounds, not reaching the level of her brilliant professor.

Jonathan's body was on fire. All his senses seemed to heighten, and hot burning pierced his skin in places that he never felt before. 

Breathing deeply he tried to slow down his racing heart, muscle pounding so fast and hard that he would be worried if not the uncontrollable thoughts; his freckled, pale skin ached for a gentle or any touch. He didn’t really care, he just wanted… no— needed Y/n on him, all over him, doing unforgivable things to his needy body. 

His whole body felt tingly and numb at the same time, and he was struggling to keep his thoughts straight with all the rushing hormones— that’s when he started to move unconsciously, just when Y/n turned back towards the desk again, trying to ignore the state he was in, looking so… needy and so desperate. 

The poor student didn’t even have the time to register what was happening, she just felt a tight grip on her hips and in a couple of seconds she was pressed harshly, flat against the lab table— an almost animalistic panting against the back of her neck and Jonathan’s body lying on her, nearly crushing her ribcage on that wooden surface. Her breath knocked out at the sudden action.

“Fuck” Dr. Crane grunted, grounding his hips as his hands kneaded roughly on her breasts, since he cupped them before, managing to bend her down. He felt like an animal in heat at that moment, so desperate and so blind in front of the lust that was taking over his whole body.

His hips kept moving as if following a rhythm, his cock pressing against the front of his pants in a pleasant but still painful way— his hands still groping harshly Y/n’s round chest, pressing and pulling while also kneading with need and hidden satisfaction. They are as soft as they look Crane thought in his moment of pure desperation.

”Wh-what are you doing?” Y/n squealed, pinned to the desk with his weight. 

”Shhh.. I… I need it.” He moaned out, but slowly grinding on her ass wasn't enough. His angrily hard cock throbbed in his pants, relentlessly demanding immediate attention. He was getting frustrated with how little she was cooperating, and it felt like fire was blowing his veins. His skin was burning and itching as he whined lowly, dropping his head on her shoulder with a huff. 

”Touch me” He hissed out, pulling her up and turning around to face him. She remained pressed against him, but her hands were still, not moving or getting near his needy, aching body. He was losing his mind. ”F…fucking please” Jonathan cried out finally, when his cock started pulsing painfully in his briefs. 

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to keep her own lust and nervousness on a leash. 

Rubbing her thighs  together she hesitated for a moment before speaking, her voice cracking in an almost pathetic way...if Jonathan wouldn’t have been in that situation with that mindset he would have probably mocked her “P-Pull it out, Prof-”. She stopped quickly, a new battle starting inside of her head, how was she supposed to call him? She couldn’t for sure refer to him with his qualification.

Dr. Crane had other intentions apparently, he didn’t let her think much about that…too eager to have her whole attention back on him and his now leaking cock. Standing proudly against his flat stomach was a thick, long member. The veins wrapped around it stick out even more than usually, as it throbbed impatiently. Cold air was enough to make him hypersensitive as he mewled, touching the tip and spreading precum on it. Red colour of his skin revealed how much he needed the release.

At the sight Y/n jumped slightly not expecting Jonathan to be so forward, just standing there… so close to her, holding his shaft as he moved closer to her in an attempt to probably seduce her and make her finally touch him like he had begged her for. The psychology professor managed to take another step before a loud slap echoed in the quiet room, his mind too fogged to realise immediately what she did but the stingy sensation on his cheek made it clear. He could have been mad but just the contact of her bare skin against his made him whine desperately, his eyes blow out in pure need and submission. He would have done anything….literally anything to finally have his release with her help.

Y/n's breathing had become more elaborate, her body was full of adrenalin at that moment which allowed her to act instinctively and impulsively, although it was better to work through the whole situation with a clear and rational mind.

Come on, the young student yelled in her head, gulping softly as she moved her gaze slowly back down to take a peek at her professor’s cock. Do it, just do it, she repeated, nodding slightly to herself before moving her tiny hand closer to the throbbing cock, gathering the courage to grab it, but before she'd manage to do so, Jonathan pushed his hips forward impatiently, forcing her hand in the worst way. 

Y/n looked up immediately, anger sizzling in her eyes at his unhinged behaviour. As soon as he tried to make her grab it again, her other hand made contact with his flushed cheek in a harsh slap. Crane’s lips parted in surprise, as he felt a drip of blood going down his chin from his lower lip.

”One more time, and I'll tie you up and leave you alone. All needy and crying” She warned with a scolding tone, Jonathan’s expression reminded her one of a kicked puppy; it was nearly distracting, his gaze so focused on her was hypnotic and the way his plumpy lips kept softly trembling was entertaining as he breathed deeply, almost like he was about to cry. 

A deep breath broke the silence that had been surrounding them after the slap, the young student nodded slightly before finally letting Jonathan rest his heavy member on her open hand. Her eyes focused on the task and on the cock in front of her, she could feel it twitch every time her acrylic nails brushed against the prominent veins.

Her breath was heavier, not like Crane’s was— he was panting like an animal in heath just craving..no, needing her touch. His icy eyes staring at her hand while tears started forming in them, he could feel his stomach tightener at every second that passed. He didn’t even dare to speak, afraid to scare her or just piss her off, making her slow movements come to a stop— he couldn’t let it happen, not now that her small feminine hand was finally reaching the angry red tip of his cock.

Y/n moved her wrist, gulping softly before finally wrapping her fingers around it trying to give it a testing pump staring with wide eyes how the foreskin followed her movement, exposing more the leaking  tip “Shit” Jonathan cursed in a hiss, letting out a choked sob before ordering her with a shaking voice “Spit on it, you little slut”. 

The poor man was feeling the effects of the aphrodisiac more and more, he could feel them crawl all over his body making it difficult for him to breath normally or think straight, a thin layer of sweat was already covering his flushed skin.

Her professor’s hand snatched hers, motiving it quickly closer to his handsome face as if he wanted to kiss it, ending up spitting on her palm catching completely off guard; her pretty face slowly twisted in a grimace of uncomfortable disgust.

After a couple of seconds passed… where she didn’t do nothing, Jonathan bad temper snapped again, his mean part coming out “Fuckin’ touch it already!” he screamed in her face, catching her off guard for the second time in a row, his hips moving forward as his hand held her smaller one wrapped back around his length. His hips established a rhythm to relieve his pain…his free hand flying to cup her breast after nearly ripping off the lab coat she had still tidily on. How long is it going to last?

Consequently Jonathan's outburst, Y/n allowed him to continue to seek the pleasure he so badly needed, an expression of disgust still present on her face. His panting was quite disturbing now, she could feel the warmth of it and of his whole body that clearly looked like it was on fire and it kind of worried her. All her fault, that’s all your fault, she kept repeating to herself as she tried to find a solution… a way to help the man that was standing in front of her, moaning like a pornstar just for her. 

“O-Okay, Dr. Crane I-I….” she started, her voice shaking softly as she tried to speak with him— but he wasn’t listening at all, too busy in the activity he was engaged with. Y/n’s heart pounded, the unusual and somehow odd situation causing adrenaline to rush through her veins. She was lost in how to properly handle the situation, but one glance at him was enough to decide. Anger and desperation was filling his icy gaze, eyes cloudy and focused on his cock as she stroked it. Annoyance appeared in her mind at how easily influenced she was for him, as she huffed with anger. 

You want me to touch you? I fucking will then, she thought, as her hand gripped his manhood harder, stroking it harsher as the other hand rested on his chest. 

Jonathan felt almost deaf, his heart beating so fast and hard that it could be heard from any part of his body…he was feeling like on a rollercoaster, adrenaline rushing and filling his slender self.

As soon as Y/n started to feel Jonathan’s grip on her hand become less tighter, freeing her caged hand, she removed it completely in a quick motion. Feeling it, Jonathan's head lolled back with a high pitched, desperate groan. A choked cry pushed past his lips at the lack of stimulation. He didn't expect her to do it, his lips parted as he tried to breathe but his lungs burned, just like his skin that started heating up and itching again. His legs started shaking as a couple tears streamed down his face, but Y/n wasn’t as fazed by his state anymore, and she just wiped her palm on his white shirt, not really caring that he had an important meeting in just… thirty minutes.

“Strip” the young woman ordered with a simple word, not adding anything else. Her expression was stern and kind of pissed, she was tired and this was taking too long for her. She was also ready to take any decision or precaution to be able to get over this.

“I said fucking strip, you brainless slut” the student repeated, raising her voice just like Jonathan had done earlier, screaming at him the respect that was pulling her back now completely gone. There was still nervousness in her body, she was shaking a bit because of the different emotions present. To her surprise Dr. Crane started to take off his expensive suit, replying to her stern tone and insult with a pathetic whine… she could have kicked him in the face at that moment and he would have just licked her sole, whimpering and shaking for her.

As Jonathan peeled all the fabric off his body, watching it drop on the floor, the cold air hit his overwarm body, his nipples erect just like his hair which were standing due to the shiver and the goosebumps, Y/n couldn’t stop watching him move like a puppet. 

Her hands moved on their own, resting on his warm, pale and freckled chest… caressing in slow motions his skin as her eyes moved slowly across his naked self— it felt nice, it relieved the burning and stingy sensation Jonathan kept feeling but it wasn’t enough. Just when he was about to say something, to plead, whine and whimper, she used all her strength to push him away from her.

His body stumbled, hitting the nearest object that was right behind him which happened to be a chair… a iron, cold tiny chair that made him hiss as soon his skin made contact with it completely. His hairy pale thighs spread open, twitching due to the coldness of the surface, just like his back that arched in such a pathetic way.

“Fucking told you that I would have tied you down, you wasted your second chance, Dr. Crane” Y/n warned him, murmuring mostly to herself as she started to tie down his limbs, making sure to make a tight knot so that he really couldn't move without her wanting him to.

His heart kept racing, his body was in such a state that it just kept leaning towards Y/n’s every time she moved slightly closer as she fixed the ropes.

The young woman took a step back, admiring silently the desperate and subby state Crane had fallen in, his mouth open as he panted like a wild animal, his body trembling softly as his cock kept twitching and aching for relief.

She took a step forward this time, Jonathan’s eyes fixed on her as his head remained hanging low, he couldn’t tell what she was doing by all that wiggling but he discovered soon since he found himself with her wet thong in his mouth, his spit wetting it even more. She was bare, she was finally bare under the skirt she had on, he thought… his body still and tensed, too afraid to even move a muscle.

Her hands rested on his shoulders, her smaller body towering over his sitting position. Her finger interwoven with his black locks, he could feel her acrylic nails massage teasingly his scalp— it was gentle and carrying.. before she got a better hold on his hair and pulled at them harshly.

“Don’t come too fast, because I won't stop until I finish, got it?” his favourite student warned as she carefully straddled him, her bare wet pussy now pressing against his throbbing leg.

Earning just a choked moan from Crane she started to grind slowly on it, pressing her body closer to his to find the right angle were her clit would have been touched correctly. Their eyes remained locked all the time, even if Jonathan kept occasionally rolling his eyes back because of the pleasure, his gathering spit slowly dripping down on his chest. 

Condoms, Y/n thought quickly, her eyes growing wide as her breath increased “Do you have a condom?” she asked, knowing well that he couldn’t really reply to her with the cloth stuck in his mouth— his eyes just moved, following her movements as she decided to turn around, now her round cheeks gifted him with some relief as she grabbed his pants and started searching for anything there. Condoms, pills, some kind of protection. Finding just a tiny bottle of lube with his initials on it. 

“Oh, you pervert. Bet you use it to jerk yourself of” she mocked, moving back in the straddling position, her hands following the form of his nose, down to his plumpy lips “Guess no relief then, huh” she murmured, watching him carefully. She sure found Dr. Crane attractive and she would have lied if she said that she never had impure thoughts on him or just a need to try and feel how his lips tasted. She could now.

Her eyes remained on his open lips for a couple of seconds before she leaned in, removing harshly her thong from his mouth, earning a meowing sound from Crane, which died down as soon as her lips pressed against his. 

Her tongue entered his mouth easily, making them entwine into a deep and sensual dance, exploring each other's mouths and teasing with delight. Their bodies were more pressed up against each other, her soft hands remained wrapped around his neck to feel his Adam apple bobbing as he gulped.

In that moment of pure passion, something fell from the pocket of her blouse, dropping right on Jonathan’s lower stomach “Guess you have luck by your side today, Professor” Y/n praised as soon as she broke the kiss, watching their split still link them in a hot and sensual way. She moved her hands from his neck and grabbed the condom she had in her pocket without knowing…using her teeth to slowly open it while she grinded her hips against his.

The thong went back in Dr. Crane’s mouth as she stood back up to roll carefully the condom on his thick, long length, watching it wrap perfectly around his size “There we go” she whispered, using the lube she had found to prepare herself before finally sink down in a quick motion on his cock, her tight warm pussy clenching around him like a tight fit. Crane's head dropped down with a hiss at the tight squeeze, just like his jaw, the sensation that came so quick didn't let him time even try and control his imminent first orgasm. It was cruel, mean but Y/n was enjoying every part of it. 

She didn't know how Jonathan managed to not shoot his load, filling up the condom, and signing that way the ending of that all. But he managed, so Y/n started to roll her hips slowly before increasing the speed to hear the pathetic sounds coming out of Crane's bruised mouth. He was moaning with each move, whining whenever she'd squeeze him too hard, or sink her nails in his skin.

She was bouncing, riding him as if he was a wild horse, her thighs pressed against each of his thighs, holding him down while she searched her own peak… not really carrying anymore of Jonathan's state.

”I honestly didn’t expect you to be that big” His student praised with a veiled insult, hissing into his ear. He wasn't even able to respond as the next deep stroke pushed him over the edge, as he cried out pulsing between her velvet-like walls. His hands thrashed, tied up, as the need to grab her hips while he'd fill the condom up with his hot cum. Y/n didn't care, and she kept moving over and over, chasing her own high with head tilted back as the pleasure fully consumed her mind and body. She wasn't even aware of the pace as she kept milking him despite his whiny cries, moving violently on his hypersensitive cock. 

”F-fuck” He spat out, his voice still muffled, saliva dripping down his chin when his eyes rolled into the back of his head. More curses followed after the first that slipped from his lips, his body shaking uncontrollably as he felt the pleasure bult itself in his lower stomach. It was driving violently and forcefully like a train, about to go off the rails and hit him with all his force. The condom being filled for the second time by his seed, she kept going just like his load that kept being spilled without a stop. The amount of cum he could pump just minutes apart would usually impress her, if she wasn't so long gone in the maddening pleasure that his thick girth provided, stretching her out and pushing his way to her g spot with each thrust. 

The pleasure he was giving her was making her slowly reach her own climax, turning her head in a foggy and drunk state of mind when she squeezed her eyes shut, as her cunt clenched down on his member, making it impossible to thrust despite the overflowing fluids splashing between them as she reached her peak, shaking and crying out as her muscles gone fully numb for a moment from the powerful orgasm that made her nearly squirt. 

Only then did she realise that Crane was cumming as well, again, and she wouldn't care a bit, if it wasn't for the… thick, sticky fluid dripping down her thigh. Y/n’s eyes widened at the sensation, and she jumped off of him faster than she would ever anticipate, earning a loud strucked whimper from her professor. 

“Look at what you did!” she yelled, a bit panicked from the situation she was in, his seed still dripping down her thighs even when she tried to push it out. Staring at his engorged cock, that was still twitching. Red and wet, laying on his thigh even though it was still very much hard. The condom that she previously put on him, now with a giant hole, halfway down his dick.

The role switched, now Crane was the one with tearful eyes and she was the one furious with him. What was she supposed to do? She thought to herself, cleaning her dripping pussy with the nearest cloth before meeting Jonathan’s icy eyes. He caused it… so it was only fair that he found a solution to that, just like she did earlier for her mistake. 

After a deep breath the student moved closer to her professor, freeing him from his restrictions which made his pale freckled skin a bit sore and bruised, just before taking a step back “You need to find a solution for the mess yo—” she stopped mid sentence with a gasp, and his big slender hands grabbed her roughly, pushing her towards the white table. 

He didn't hesitate, and his moves weren't thoroughly measured or rational, like his usual way to think and act. He was an.. animal with a fire in his baby blue eyes, as he smashed her down onto the desk, dropping test tubes and vials onto the ground. 

Bent in half, Y/n couldn't do much besides reaching back to push him away in desperation, but it didn't help much as he twisted her arm, pushing it down while kicking her legs open, relentless in his motives.

”Shut up” He hissed out while reaching down to her heat, pushing his two fingers in as he checked how wet she was. Feeling his own cum leaking out of her, he grinned in the mischievous way, feeling how his veins were still on fire. 

Pushing her head down into the desk, he kept her quiet while his big hand tangled into her soft hair. Without any further notice, he lined up the pulsing tip of his hard cock with her tight pussy, groaning loudly at the choked gasp that pushed past her lips as he filled her up. 

”N-no!” She squealed while wiggling her hips to the side, struggling but still attempting to get away from him. ”I’m not on the pill!” 

Crane's hand fell near her face, patting it mockingly before he shoved two fingers into her mouth, silencing her successfully. 

”Shhhhh” He cooed with a grin, before he snapped his hips forwards making her cry out with him as his fat cock hit her cervix suddenly. She stopped moving as soon as the pain set in, and seeing it, Crane repeated his move laughing out when she squealed. The aphrodisiac was slowly wearing out, and he was more than happy to give her a lesson for teasing him.

“Fuckin’ take it” Jonathan murmured breathless, pressing his body against her back to keep her still while thrusting again before shooting more inside of her cunt, still moving as he groaned, biting her shoulder as he pumped some more of his semen into her. 

Her body moved almost automatically as she hit his ribs with her elbow, catching him off guard and that way free herself a bit… enough that she could turn around to face him fully, her hand flying towards his face, slapping him across the face with the back of her hand. It didn’t really go like she was expecting, Jonathan just answered with a lustful moan and his hand moved roughly to her neck, taking a hold of it. Just resting at the beginning, as his pace picked up on a speed, his long fingers wrapped around her slim throat, squeezing it as he cut off the airflow while his hips slammed wildly against hers, leaving red marks. Her own hands kept fighting him as best she could, till the pace increased, allowing her just to scratch, claw and dig her fingernails in his pale skin, her eyes rolling back as his fat cock kept abusing her sweet spots without any kind of mercy. 

They both were panting, their heartbeat beating like crazy in their chests and they both could hear it since Crane leaned closer, resting his sticky sweaty forehead against hers, breathing with his mouth against her lips— leaning roughly down a couple of seconds later to claim a feverish kiss. He stole Y/n’s much needed air and made her squirm more, even though she reciprocated the kiss, biting down harshly on his bottom lip drawing blood from it, which wet her own lips before dropping a bit on her flushed face as soon as Jonathan leaned back with a desperate whimper of pure, raw lust.

”Going to… to cum” He breathed out, his tone was back to the low one, filled with authority and dominance almost the same as the one he used during his lectures. If she could, she'd roll her eyes at the way he was back to being a cocky, commanding bastard... if it wasn't for the massive cock splitting her nearly in half. Her right hand moved away from him, diving down where they were connected to gather some of their arousal and rub her clit in quick motion, increasing the speed just in time. Her pussy clenched around his cock as her body spasmed softly because of the orgasm that just hit her whole body, she could feel Jonathan’s seminal fluid spill out of her cunt and slowly down on her ass and lab table.

It all stilled, their breathing was the only noise in that empty room “Y-Yo…Your conference, Dr. C-Crane” she reminded him breathless as she held back loud sobs caused by the pleasure and all the emotions that filled her smaller body.

Breathing deeply, he leaned back while running a hand through his hair as he chuckled. 

”Right. The Conference.”

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj @wife-of-magic-monkeys, @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher, @sleepycreativewriter , @mrkdvidal1989

[mywritingonlyfans]

Teacher's pet. // Prof!Alex Turner X Stud!Reader (Smut) Part 1 of 3.

prompt: (Age Gap/Smut) Alex, an undergraduate professor, wasn't known for his friendliness until he found himself gradually warming up to you. Your remarkable writing skills, particularly directed at his class, heightened his interest even further. He's determined to show you firsthand just how talented you are, even if the journey is challenging. Eventually, both of you realize that resisting this connection is futile, and you must let go of your inhibitions to explore what lies ahead.

words: 9.3K

a/n: Be aware that it's a smut but it has a whole context, so it's long. There are changes of the next parts being more smuts, this part was assembled around how they feel in front of each other and what they make the other feel. It is important to point out that I'm not native of the language, it is likely that there are some errors, but hopefully few because I try to be careful. In addition, I hope you enjoy!

You were nervous; it was difficult to digest what he was explaining when all you seemed to notice in class was the timbre of his voice. As hours passed, his accent seemed to grow stronger and huskier, not to mention how he had taken off his blazer within the first few minutes and rolled up his sleeves to his elbows. You couldn't quite tell whether you were enjoying the subject matter due to its inherent interest or whether it was him who had become your focus of interest.

You found the buttons on his white shirt alluring, the warmth adhering to his skin, and the occasionally tousled hair being lazily brushed away from his eyes exuded a charm. Watching him was intriguing; at some point, you had tried to avoid such distractions, but realizing your failure, you allowed yourself to be swept away completely.

"Did you hear me?" He asked a bit louder, trying to get your attention. He hadn't shouted; he never did. You were immersed in him, yet couldn't grasp the meaning of the disjointed words he had gestured. However, the movements of his restless hands and the prominent veins when he placed them on his waist had etched themselves into your memory. If someone requested, you could depict his fingers in oil on canvas.

"I'm sorry," you shook your head, waiting for him to repeat, as he often did with everyone else. He studied you more closely, even from a distance, his hands tucked in his pockets and your breath catching slightly. He didn't often make direct eye contact with students, maybe with no one. He was somewhat reserved, and it was evident that lecturing for hours wasn't quite his natural disposition. You found the stumbling over words and how he would look out the window or shift his gaze when someone met his eyes rather appealing. You feared that you had been thinking about him for so long that you had built up an image of him beyond what he could actually be.

However, he held his dark eyes on you, offering a gentle smile, a touch relaxed as if he had expected that from you, and playfully continued, "Well, I didn't expect that from you. I must have been mistaken in thinking you're a great one." He carried on with the lecture as your cheeks began to burn. Perhaps his not-liking for you was part of his nature too.

…

You couldn't bear for him not to like you. Not until the end of the semester; you considered his subject crucial for your repertoire. He just couldn't dislike you. Some nights were spent awake, but you were certain your paper was well-written, and your readings for his class were up to date; any question he might ask, you'd know the answer to. Your seat in the classroom was always the same, out of habit. Honestly, if you had known the distraction and nervousness that Mr. Turner would cause you, you would have opted for seats further back for your own good. But now it was too late, and besides, you needed a good grade in his class.

He was wearing a light blue blazer, a shirt with a few buttons open, and high-waisted slacks, the usual attire, but it never failed to soften your senses. He looked well-rested, his expression serene, no signs of dark circles, and his hair was even silkier than usual as his fingers brushed it back. You found yourself fidgeting, imagining what it would be like to run your fingers through his hair, touch his skin, and feel the texture of the beard that was just beginning to grow.

Realizing your mental drift, you closed your eyes tightly and buried your head in a notebook, trying to avoid looking at him. The rest of the class proceeded as usual, his voice pleasant and utterly hypnotic, and occasionally, he cracked a light joke to lighten the mood. Almost no one laughed, but you found it funny. There were only a few students, so he had no choice but to notice you.

You weren't foolish enough not to notice his eyes briefly passing over you, but you chalked it up to his duty to see if anyone needed help. So you avoided letting your brain jump to impossible conclusions.

And then there was the age difference; he was older, you couldn't say for sure how much, but the more pronounced lines on his face and his authoritative demeanor made that evident. Still, he was charming and, dare you say, a bit sexy. He had a well-sculpted physique, leaving enough room for you to describe him for hours.

"Could you continue for us?" he said, his voice distinct, making you look at him reluctantly. You didn't know it, but avoiding his gaze throughout the class had bothered him, but who was he to say anything about it unless you couldn't answer him?

You nodded, your hands sweaty; you knew what to say, just not where to find the courage. Your cheeks were already burning with anxiety. "I'm sorry," your voice was soft, and you stumbled over the first syllable. He seemed to understand. "It's okay," Mr. Turner leaned down to your level at your desk, his hands on his knees, and a somewhat encouraging smile. "I know you wrote an excellent paper on this; I know you know what to say," he said softly, turning toward you, his calm eyes and a nod of the head giving you confidence. His words made you look away for a moment, and your shy smile spread awkwardly.

Once you finished, he thanked you and added that you had done very well. He seemed genuinely pleased to see you speak, but perhaps it was just a product of your imagination. You even received a light applause from him, which didn't seem ironic. This made you feel more at ease and attentive during his classes; he was a great teacher.

At the end of class, he passed by the desks, handing out the respective papers we had discussed. Your face fell into a worried expression as you touched yours. Alex knew you deserved more, but he wouldn't make it easy for you. It wasn't his style as an educator to give out high grades easily.

Your smile disappeared in confusion; he felt a pang in his chest when he saw your reaction. He didn't say anything, just returned to his desk and said he was open to discussions. He hoped you would come to him and fight for the grade you deserved, but it was clear how upset you were about it.

Others left, content with their grades, and you still had the paper in your hands, looking between the notes. He avoided looking at you directly, yet couldn't help but glance at you from time to time.

"Mr. Turner," you sounded angelic as you approached him, your steps light as you handed him the paper. Your shirt was short, and when you handed him the paper, he couldn't help but notice the exposed skin of your stomach, which was briefly visible. "I thought I had done well; that's what you just said," your voice trembled, and as you got closer, he noticed your sweet scent. On the other hand, you couldn't focus on anything; minutes ago, you were sure you had done well, and things with him had been sorted out; he didn't hate you.

"It's not a bad grade," he said firmly, then immediately regretted it. It was brief, but for a moment, your eyes filled, and he could see how much it had frustrated you. He didn't blame you; in fact, he knew you were talented, and by the way you had written, he knew you had put in the effort. The problem wasn't you; any other teacher would have given you the highest grade. However, your grade wasn't bad; it just wasn't what you deserved and wanted.

"Do you think I can redo it? I can do better," he looked at your trembling hands and continued, "This grade is final; I can't allow you to do that." His words didn't match his tone, but you didn't notice; you wanted to rip up the paper in front of him and say you didn't need it.

You stood in front of him, disoriented, while he couldn't help but let his attention wander over you. He felt wrong, both because you were his student and because he was aware that you were over a decade younger. Still, without being able to explain it well, he found himself lost in thoughts of you from time to time, especially after having read what you wrote.

"Please," you pleaded softly as a last attempt, your eyebrow arched and your nose wrinkled in emphasis of your plea, and you looked so beautiful. "I can allow you to submit another," he confirmed, his face serious, the little furrow between his brows. Up close, you felt your breath catch as you noticed the exposed hairs on his chest. The scent of cigarettes and his cologne became more pronounced, and you liked it. Creating a new one would take so much time, but if it was your only option, there was nothing to be done.

Alex had only asked that in the hope of being able to explore more of your writing; by the end of the semester, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from letting you know that you were his number one fan if you allowed it. You had a beautiful way with writing; feelings seemed worth experiencing in your words. You nodded in agreement. "Okay, I need you to submit it by the end of the week." You didn't object; you seemed grateful, and Alex took mental note of how caring so much about that grade was something youthful; in the future, it wouldn't matter, but you didn't know that yet. Your smile, now smaller but still present, returned to your kind face, and he felt more comfortable, even dressed in his serious university professor attire. With that, he guided you to the door, his palm resting lightly on your back, not inappropriately, but gently, which caused him to blush a bit. You felt shivers run down your spine, but he didn't seem to notice, and both of you made your way to the exit. You thanked him once more, telling him that you wouldn't make him regret his decision, to which he assured you it wouldn't happen.

Your path to the next class was accompanied by a light and relaxed smile after his final words were simply, "I know you won't disappoint me; you didn't the first time," in his pleasant accent, followed by a pat on your shoulders. You felt like a fool, but you couldn't even think of trying to avoid it anymore.

…

"He's good, knows what he's doing. He follows my lead during, when I'm tired and breathless; he tilts his face and lets his nose graze my clit," your friend said casually, as if it were an everyday part of her life. Well, you couldn't relate. She was lounging on your bed, while you were on the floor with your laptop open to one of Professor Turner's published stories. As well as a valuable audiobook that was read by him between the navigation tabs, waiting for her to leave so you can have your moment of peace. You wanted to learn more about him, and your friend kept failing to get you to go out and meet new people. You were unfamiliar with the sensation of being touched, and she wanted to change that.

"I don't want to have to force someone to like me," you said, reconsidering what you had just breathed out, not wanting to sound offensive. You two were just different. She didn't mind; she just laughed. "I'll keep trying for you," and you appreciated that about her. You wanted someone in your life like that, but you didn't want it to be as insignificant as she described. She had already set you up with someone to talk to before, and the kiss was good, at least until you refused to have sex right away, which resulted in his friends laughing at you and whispering as you passed them in the hallway. You learned that sometimes it's better to wait and avoid certain situations.

"I'm okay like this, it's alright," you said, even though you weren't, but you wouldn't go through that again. She respected your decision. Your smile brightened as you saw a notification that you had received an email from Alex on the screen. You bit your lip, trying to contain your eagerness to click on it, making it something important that needed to be read slowly and appreciated. His notes on what he thought of your paper would be there, and he always made a point to highlight the positives and areas for improvement. It warmed your heart.

For a brief moment, his smile for you flashed in your mind, the wrinkles forming at the corners of his eyes, and his pointed nose following in harmony. You had to grip the fabric of your skirt between your fingers, soon having your friend's words echoing in your head. Professor Turner seemed like a good man in every sense of the word. You did believe he would treat his partners well in every way. Your friend pointed out that the boy she went out with listened to her, and you felt that he would too; both in listening and in other ways. You were sure, with what little you had learned about him, that he was observant.  There would be no need to tell him what to do, Mr Turner would understand your body and then he would not disappoint.  He could tell when a woman was tired or overwhelmed. An important one was that you also thought he was provocative, too impatient at times not to be.  You wanted to be able to know what it was like with him, even if it was through other people's experiences with him, just to get a little of that taste.  You didn't exactly feel good about the inconsistency of such thoughts. Still, you let yourself be carried away by them.

He made you wet with just his voice. If he were to touch you in that way, you were certain you would give yourself over completely. You sat up straighter, envisioning how good it would be to have his tongue on you, gentle and with relaxed moans because he wouldn't think going down on you was a bad thing or something to second-guess. You remembered how easily you could make your small vibrator slide when you were really excited, and you felt it would be the same with his fingers. They were longer and thicker than yours, but wet with his saliva and your body melting from his voice, they would be skillful.

The tip of his nose would surely brush deliciously against your clit as he savored your taste, following your cues. The beard that was beginning to grow would graze your sensitive skin, causing a slight burn that would remind you of his presence. Professor Turner would also shake his face into you, wanting to make sure he enjoyed pleasuring you as much as he did receiving. Oh, and you would love to be able to provide that to him. Unconsciously, you found yourself breathing heavily. Your friend laughed, "Are you this worked up over a notification?" She had gotten up to leave but returned when she noticed you were flustered. "Spill it, who's the lucky one?" You recoiled, shaking your head in denial, not wanting to admit that there was someone (or not exactly), but your smile was hard to hide.

"It's not really anyone," you still felt uncomfortable in your own skin, fearing you had done something wrong. She waited for you to continue. "Just an email about a paper I submitted, I got feedback on it now." She rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath, "What a nerd." Then you felt like exploring the situation further, considering that she also had a class with him but in a different subject. "Was it positive feedback at least? What subject is this for?" You mentally thanked her for asking, giving you an opening to continue.

"It's for Professor Turner's class. He let me redo one of the papers to try for a higher grade," you answered, and she raised an eyebrow. "He gave you a low grade?" The girl seemed surprised but not entirely. "This guy is impossible, what a..." She used a strong word. You didn't quite understand. While you still thought there was a chance he might dislike you, he didn't seem so harsh. He wasn't the friendliest at first, but as you thought back, you realized you had never seen him smile at any student in your class except you.

"Do people think he's bad?" You asked, furrowing your brow. Deep down, you wanted her to reassure you by saying positive things about him and making you feel normal about having this confusing crush on him. She then talked about his strict grading style, how he acted like a difficult person to talk to, and always had a stern expression. She wasn't wrong; you couldn't deny that. But he wasn't like that with you; it was different, and you couldn't explain it.

"I talked to him about my grade, and even though he was reluctant, he allowed me to redo it and submit it by email. He talks to me during class as well, asking me to explain something or asking for my opinion on what he's explaining. I think he's talented, but I can understand your point," you defended, without taking a breath, as if it were already a formulated and concrete idea in your head. You did spend a lot of time thinking about him since the first day of his class. She quickly caught on to where this was headed. "You like him, he's your type. Charming, grumpy, and writes well." Your cheeks burned. "He likes you; in my class, he doesn't chitchat with anyone, just does what's necessary. He enjoys teaching, I can see that in him, he's just not so sociable and too strict for a subject that should be straightforward. I've never even seen the guy smile." You pondered for a moment, deciding to pay closer attention to see if he treated you differently from the others or if it was just your head playing tricks on you.

You shrugged and concluded before she left, "I like him, and he frustrates me sometimes for being so strict, but I don't think he does it out of malice. He seems like a good man." She got up, laughing at how you talked about him. "Then go for it, suck his dick, choose him as your thesis advisor; I'm sure he'd love to have you under his wing." Her tone indicated it was a joke, but it sparked your imagination. He would be a good advisor, and you liked the idea of him praising your work with that pleased, bright look on his face. Alone, you opened the email. Your joy went from extreme to controlled; he could be quite harsh when pointing out the negatives, and sometimes you wondered if he did it just to be difficult. But this time, he found more positives in your writing. He had marked the parts he liked the most and written next to them why he liked them. Your heart warmed, and your stomach filled with happy butterflies. The last comment read, "You give me pleasure in reading something," and you heard it in his voice, deep and drawn-out. You felt yourself grow warm and realized how messed up you were for feeling like this. Your mouth was dry, and in the end, you saw that your grade was the highest, even with the not-so-great notes he had made.

Maybe he didn't dislike you after all. You lingered on the blurry, not much clear photo in his email signature for a while, with a stupid smile of accomplishment on your face. Then you decided to write him a thank-you, and you weren't as brief as you would have liked. The sensation of comfort taking over your body, along with your pleasant but not entirely appropriate thoughts about him causing things in your breathing, made you contemplate what could be done.

You rested your head comfortably, your laptop placed beside you. In a new tab, after opening the audiobook website, you found yourself browsing through the selection that appeared when you searched his name. If his voice was enticing in an inappropriate context, it would be even better alone, wouldn't it? Your chest tightened, knowing that it was wrong, but you weren't going to stop.

You put on your headphones, clicked on the longest one you could find, and relaxed your tense shoulders as the first whispered words filled your head. It was even better; here, you had him all to yourself, complete silence, and his voice echoing, well-recorded and clear as it guided you. He sounded precise, with deep and marked pauses, his typical breathing between phrases, and, with your eyes closed, you could imagine him gesturing and occasionally touching his nose or mouth as he spoke. Just like the gentle adjustment of the necklace and shirt that made his chest more visible and room for more of your thoughts to be explored.  In fact, that necklace coming off his soft skin on top of you in sweat would be something so pleasant.

You felt weak but in a relaxed way; it was good, pushing the voice that haunted your thoughts about him into the background. Delicately, as if any abrupt movement might break the spell, you reached for your box under the bed. The small, pink object came to life in your hand, your throat already dry and his narration causing your head to tilt slightly to the side, as if he were caressing your face. You let yourself be completely carried away as you pressed it against yourself.

You swallowed hard, leaving it there for a while, immersed in how Mr. Turner seemed to be speaking to you. Everything was slow, every syllable that came from his rosy lips was cherished. You wanted so much for it to be him there, touching you and whispering while guiding you. You were sure he would say things like, "That's it, you're taking me so well, doll," or "Look at how good you are, you're such a good girl for me." And as cliché as it might sound, you had no doubt that he would make it sound like something the gods themselves would envy.

You pulled the thin fabric aside, pushing the vibrator inside you. Your legs trembled a bit, but as expected, the small object slid in just right. Your lips parted in a satisfied sigh, whispering his last name as you closed your legs slowly and felt the tingling sensation intensify. His name never felt so delicious and engaging as your tongue rolled out to the sound and went through your lips so vividly. Your head throbbed, and you could already see him sitting at his desk in front of yours, guiding you, telling you what to do and say, teaching you tricks to make it even better (you knew you weren't very skilled).

You got louder, whimpering because you wanted your thoughts to become real so badly, and then you saw nothing but white spots in your vision. Your chest heaved, your breathing completely out of sync, and the area beneath you grew wet as you felt too sensitive to continue with the vibrator.

This time, you didn't feel bad; you felt really good, actually. Your body relaxed, his voice still being absorbed by you in a therapeutic way. Then, you imagined lying on his chest, pulling your pillow to your arms, and how he would kiss you solemnly and have his hands in your hair, giving you comforting words until you fell asleep after he had made you feel so wonderful. 

Although you were feeling good now, the following morning would be a bitter testament to how you were digging yourself into a hole with no bottom, and the light wouldn't be there to save you.

…

 Alex received your email, and a pleasant blush crept onto his face along with a warm smile. He could picture you reading what he had written, your hands between your thighs, a happy expression on your face, and all giddy, unable to contain yourself in your chair. He appreciated how much you valued his feedback, but he knew how hardworking and intelligent you were. He wanted to help you realize that you were good on your own, not just because he believed it.

He ran his hand through his hair, feeling hot from the heat. Your notification had arrived on his phone, and being a seasoned university professor, he preferred to wait to access his laptop to read and respond to you properly if needed. He tried to get into the thing that he was used to teaching, but that wasn't entirely the case. While he found it tiresome to teach subjects he liked and found interesting when no one seemed interested, he enjoyed it when you were there for him, you were the exception (the teacher’s pet). The thought made him chuckle and bite his lip. It was tiring, but he liked it, except for all the social interaction that weighed on him.

He had just returned from the market after giving two lectures, and he had exceeded his limit for social interaction. Yet, seeing your email notification on the screen gave him the extra energy he needed for the rest of the day. Just the thought of your quick exchange earlier when he passed by you on the first floor during lunch, even if brief, brought a warmth to his chest. You smiled at him, waved, and whispered a "good day" or "have a good rest of your day, Professor." He always smiled back with a hand in the air, trying to keep his face relaxed, and he actually showed his teeth. He wasn't used to all this sweetness from his students and had never found himself making an effort for it, but with you, it was worth it.

Indeed, no one but you spoke directly to him out of pure, spontaneous will. If others did, he would remain serious, with a furrowed brow, and nod in agreement. He honestly preferred it that way, with no one besides you trying to have a small talk with him. He didn't dislike his students, but he didn't like flattery and dumb questions that could be avoided if they paid attention in class.

His head began to ache, and he noticed the sweat on his body, prickling and making him feel irritated. Stress was about to come back, but he remembered that he needed to read your email. He removed his belt, sliding it off his waist slowly and soon feeling relieved. He felt even better after unbuttoning all the buttons on his shirt and peeling it off. He quickly decided between taking a shower or reading your sweet words first, considering which order would leave him relaxed for longer so he could sleep. He knew that whatever he did, thoughts related to you would still linger in his mind until he fell asleep.

He sat on the bed, pulling the laptop toward him, and although he wasn't in a hurry, he found himself restless until the screen lit up, and he could access his account. Once he did, your simple message didn't fail to soften him. The excessive exclamation points reminded him of how young you were. It was like a letter, with your polite and correct punctuation. He could almost hear your voice as he read your words.

The way you called him "Mr. Turner" never failed to affect him. Others had addressed him this way, but it was different with you. Your eyes sparkled, your smile widened, your pupils got alive, and your pleasant face eagerly awaited for him to look at you and speak to you. He thought he was too old for this, and he certainly was, but he couldn't avoid how you had invaded his soul.

You had no knowledge of what was going on in his head, but he felt like he was corrupting you. He felt dirty for getting so energized by giving you compliments he knew you liked to hear and then patting your back while seeing you happy about it. What the hell was he doing? And he couldn't deny that he found comfort in how beautiful you looked when you were frustrated, your eyes seemed more tired, and your breathing uneven when you were upset about one of his negative comments (sometimes he did it on purpose).

Feeling his own chest grow heavier and his mind getting increasingly lost, he opted for a shower, even though he was aware that idealizing you wouldn't end there. Now without clothes, under the shower, with you like a curse surrounding him, he realized just how messed up he was. He couldn't avoid it anymore, even though he didn't want to. He knew there was no turning back.

The words from your email clung to him as water flowed over his hair and down his shoulders. You had shown how much you appreciated him and knew his work, the care in choosing your words to praise him, and saying that you wanted to get to him in person soon to reinforce how much you had liked his feedback, the way would like to work through them and see you unravel in front of him because he noticed that your courage in emails wasn't the same as in person. He found that so adorable.

His overactive imagination was leading him to cute places related to you, but it was sparking other curiosities in him too, even though it was about how delicate and somewhat innocent he found you (although he would never admit it that way). Soon, he felt heavy, needing relief as the water splashed over him, and he sighed in exasperation at himself. He was being as pathetic as a teenager. Why couldn't he stop?

His breathing grew rigid, catching in his dry throat, and he allowed himself to be carried away by the flow of his fantasies. His hand ran over his abdomen, eyes tightly closed, hoping that this would make him feel less guilty about it. His thumb glided over the sensitive skin, and a soft sigh escaped his lips; he felt sore and swollen despite doing so little. He continued slowly but with precision. He believed that giving you pleasure wasn't such a difficult task; you would appreciate the touch no matter what. Not that it made him want to go easy on you. He felt like he could have his hands around your waist, squeezing your soft flesh with delight while admiring your breasts, giving them gentle bites and generous suckling that would make you gasp for air for extended periods. Your hands would be cradling the nape of his neck, fingers entwined in his tousled hair. He found comfort in this, feeling that he could make you feel the same way.

He also thought that your body would respond well to his. He was convinced that you were addicted to being a good girl, and that was not up for discussion. The way you melted under his compliments, listened to his harsh criticisms, and sought to improve upon them, you would deny any chance of being labeled a bad girl. As more moans escaped his lips, with the strength of his fingers unaltered, he thought about going a little harder on you, not to hurt, but to make you think about begging him to stop. The tears that would stream down the corners of your eyes as you tried to be good for him and take him in you just right. "You're doing so well, babygirl. You’re so good to me." You would open your bright eyes to him, feeling encouraged to continue being what he needed. He would clearly notice and slow down, accommodating his fingers on your clit and making you adjust to him with soft whimpers that made you endure and enjoy it until the end.

He also liked how you would react when he stimulated you to the extreme, your sensitivity and his desire to taste your essence on his tongue. He could say that you were as sweet as his last name sounded when you talked to him in class. He would tease you with his tongue, kissing you as if it were the only time and chance he had to touch you. And you would fight not to close your thighs around him, but as you were a good girl, you would succeed in keeping yourself spread open while he exhausted you a few more times. The thought of you reaching your peak, your eyes closed, and the tears he knew would be there because you did that when you got frustrated with his opinions on your writing, and your mouth slightly open with his name escaping, made him reach his climax. A deep, raspy groan echoed through the bathroom, his head heavy, and his shoulders feeling lighter and more satisfied. He worked his hand until the last drops came out and marked his stomach just before the water could wash it away down the drain.

He felt good, guilty, but his body wasn't saying that. "Fuck," he sighed, not knowing if it was relief or the headache that would come later due to this; it was getting worse to a dimension he hadn't imagined. He would surely ruin you if he continued; it wasn't as enjoyable as he wished.

Still, he got out of the shower and found himself picturing how you would snuggle up to him, your tired body and calm eyes enveloped by his, and how he would love to tell you stories until he saw you fall asleep safe in his arms or listen to you talk about your day. He liked your voice; it made him feel good. At this point, he desired you in all these ways, from the most profane to the most adorable, for your physical and emotional well-being.

You still haunted his dreams, so vividly that he reached out for you in bed. In his imagination, he had lifted you by the waist and placed you sitting on his desk. The remaining students had left, and he could revel in how your hands were trembling and your face was so delicate as you gazed at him. You used to wear knee-high socks with longer boots, and he found it sexy yet cute. He felt like you made things your own, that you gave life to them. And then he found himself pulling at that piece of clothing, your legs spreading apart, and he had to instruct you to stay quiet before someone noticed as his fingers touched between your thighs. He caressed over the damp fabric, nodding his head and waiting for you to do the same, indicating that you understood to stay calm and quiet. The door would be closed, but the glass window could still give you away. You were facing away from it, and if you behaved, everything would go smoothly.

Alex could feel you soaking through his fingers, making them slippery. You sucked on his finger skillfully, being such a great girl, and stayed still without him having to coax you into relaxing as he went deeper. Your sighs were adorable, and he felt himself getting hard. He woke up before he could make you reach your peak and realized that the dream had an effect on him. There, he knew that if given the opportunity, maybe he wouldn't be able to fight against what he wanted to do, purely out of morality.

…

The following week, there was no class with Turner due to some unforeseen circumstances of his. However, he was still around for the week. Being as observant as you were, you passed by the same spot at 12:45 on Friday, gave him a slight wave, and although you had planned to approach him and ask how he was, you didn't. That is, until he called out to you, causing your body to freeze and your heart to race, forcing you to get closer.

He adjusted the bag on his shoulder, his cheeks flushed and intense. You noticed his restlessness as you got to him; it was cute, not awkward. He held a coffee and had a cigarette between his fingers. He exhaled the smoke in the opposite direction to yours and got rid of it as soon as you arrived by his side.

"Are you good, Professor?" It didn't fail to make him nervous, but he still looked at you without understanding. "I'm sorry, I guess it's not my business; I just thought to ask out of politeness since I haven't seen you this week."

He laughed at how you stumbled over your words, and he didn't blame you; he felt the same way. The fact that he made you feel like your question was inappropriate even made his chest tighten a bit.

"It's okay, I had a routine check-up, but I'm fine," he replied briefly but nodded with a comfortable smile. He could see you swallowing nervously and how your fingers wouldn't stop moving while he had his eyes on you.

"I thought of a book for you, if you don't mind." Your eyes met his, and you seemed excited. "I really like it, and I thought you might like it too."

The idea that he had thought of you made your body tingle, and the rush of blood to your face drowned out the noise around you. You took the coffee from his hands, noticing how he fumbled with opening his bag, and the light touch of your skins made you wish for more—it was warm and soft.

He took out the book, handing it to you, and you nodded with a faint smile. You hugged the cover to yourself, avoiding his gaze for a moment. It felt insane being around him after all the things you did with him in mind. You weren't exactly proud of that. The collar of his striped T-shirt was carelessly folded, and the buttons you loved so much were unbuttoned, revealing his chest briefly. You wished you could fix it for him.

This time, he wore a dark blazer and flare jeans, and he was pleasant to look at. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed, "I left notes in some parts so that I can know what you think later, if you'll allow me." Then you realized that he was doing this because he knew you needed to do well in his course to get into the master's program; still, you found it cute.

"Oh, yes, I can write to you when I finish, right?" He agreed, knowing that he would be waiting for your email in the coming weeks.

"I'm glad to know you're okay, Mr. Turner," you said awkwardly, your face fervently hot, and thanked him for the book. As you turned around, you felt his hand on your wrist; it wasn't as soft as before, but it was comforting, with the fingertips firmer as he squeezed your skin. Then, your eyes met his with a raised eyebrow.

"I need you to give me back my coffee, pet," he said playfully, and your knees weakened a bit. He felt pleased to be able to contemplate you in his mind.

…

The heat had taken its toll on Alex. He had left his blazer in the car and decided to visit one of the open bars near the campus. His hands rested inside his pockets as he patiently waited for his juice and water, yearning for the moment when he could finally get home and enjoy a cold beer. It was his final class of the afternoon, which meant it was getting quite late, and the students were scattered around. While the bar wasn't overly crowded, he could still recognize a few faces.

As soon as the chilled cup was placed in his hands, he caught sight of you with your back turned. You were wearing your signature knee-high socks and boots, but this time, you had opted for a skirt and a tank top, giving you a more relaxed and comfortable appearance. You looked stunning. With you engaged in conversation with a friend he had glimpsed from a distance, you were all smiles and animated hand gestures, bringing life to the scene.

Realizing he was staring, Alex chided himself and tried to divert his attention back to his juice. Yet, within a few minutes, his gaze involuntarily returned to you. Now, you were alone, engrossed in his book that sat next to you, its pages marked to indicate that you had already begun reading. A smile of satisfaction graced his lips; he had strategically placed notes between the pages for you to discover, hoping you would notice.

You sipped from an orange beverage, and Alex decided not to speculate whether it contained alcohol. However, he knew you weren't intoxicated when you suddenly turned towards him and greeted him with a friendly wave. He felt momentarily caught off guard but managed to offer a warm wave in return, nodding to acknowledge you. Your smile was radiant, and he couldn't help but notice how different you appeared outside the confines of the classroom. He longed for the opportunity to engage with you in a context that wasn't purely academic, but he was well aware that pursuing such a connection might be detrimental to both of you.

You turned back to your previous position, sipping your drink through a straw, while still sneakily stealing glances at him. Alex deliberated whether to linger a bit longer for your sake. The table you occupied was well-lit, offering a refreshing ambiance that was perfect for a summer day. The atmosphere was delightful, and he could easily imagine you enjoying such a setting regularly.

He held his bottle of water, pondering the ethical implications of sitting with you while you were alone. His initial plan was to finish his drink and then leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do that—not for his sake, but for yours. It wouldn't be fair to you. He feared the potential consequences would fall squarely on your shoulders rather than his own.

He shook his head and eventually decided to leave. As you lowered your head into his hands, he waited for a few more minutes, half-expecting you to look his way. But it didn't happen.

Then everything seemed to happen very quickly. He returned to his car, leaving behind the water and even starting the engine before realizing he had left his wallet inside. He hesitated but ultimately turned back, despite his frustration over forgetting his documents.

His wallet was still where he had left it. He retrieved it and then shifted his attention to you, curious and attentive. Your hands were fidgeting with your socks, as if attempting to wipe away sweat. A boy was seated in front of you, but your attention was elsewhere. The guy sported a smile that made Alex uncomfortable on your behalf.

Your discomfort was palpable, yet you seemed powerless to do anything about it. You turned to the side, your head moving away from the boy, and as you gasped for air, the guy's grin widened. Your elbows dropped onto your knees, and your hands moved to pull your hair away from your face. You appeared more sweaty than usual, and you felt increasingly weak.

As you realized your strength was waning, the boy signaled for someone else to assist you. You resisted, but they gently pushed you back into your chair to prevent you from collapsing. They weren't being nice about it.

For Alex, that was the tipping point. He strode over to them and forcefully removed the boy's hand from your arm. "Get away from her," his stern voice reverberated, and you didn't understand what was happening, but you knew you didn't feel well.

The guys attempted to speak over Alex, trying to explain themselves, even though there was no justification for their actions. Their chatter only served to irritate him further. He held onto you, his hand caressing your face, and your eyes were half-closed; you were clearly not in a good state.

After another remark from the boys, Alex glared at the boy with an even more intense hatred. His brow furrowed, and his tone grew sharper. "Just stay away from her; I won't let her be alone with you," he warned, making it clear that they should not attempt such behavior with anyone else either.

The boys exchanged nervous glances and silently agreed to leave, though Alex couldn't have cared less about them at that moment.

"What’re you feeling, pet?" He placed his hands on his knees, lowering himself to your level. You were dazed, your skin tingling, and you weren't sure what to say, or if you could say anything at all. Alex considered asking where you lived and offering to take you home, but he suspected you lived in the vicinity of the campus, and it wouldn't be appropriate for him to be seen with you in this state. Taking you to his own home didn't seem like a good idea either, but he did live nearby, and it appeared to be the most reasonable option.

He cupped your face in his hands, close enough to smell your scent once again. You smiled faintly, your eyes still distant but focusing on him. You were conscious, just not in the best condition. "I don't want to stay here; my head is spinning," you mumbled, not entirely sure what was wrong. It could have been due to poor nutrition or dehydration, you thought.

"Look, I'll stay with you ‘til you feel better, alright?" he spoke gently, as if soothing a baby. You nodded, his touch on your cheek making you lean into his warmth. As he thought about reaching out to your forehead with his lips, he realized where he was and quickly pulled back, rising to his feet with you leaning on him for support.

…

Alex gently sat you in the passenger seat, and you huddled in front of him, noticeably self-conscious about your attire. He chuckled warmly, pulling his blazer from the back seat. You felt cradled by his presence as he slipped the fabric over your arms and fastened the buttons around your midsection. It resembled a short dress, making you feel more comfortable, and it carried a pleasant scent. Your stomach still tingled, and you were aware that it was because of him and not whatever had happened earlier.

He rested your head against the headrest, his serene eyes guiding you, and he didn't seem regretful about helping you, despite the crease between his brows. Then he fastened your seatbelt and handed you his water bottle. Your vision was blurry, and sudden movements hurt, but he wasn't a saint, and he had a rough view of how you must be feeling. He'd been your age before, although thankfully, in his case, it had been a result of a spontaneous choice.

"I'll wait a bit before starting the car, alright?" he suggested, and you nodded. He gently led the bottle to your lips, encouraging you to drink a substantial portion of it. He wiped your chin and face with the hem of his T-shirt, and you followed his every move, your attention fixated on him. Without the blazer, he looked even better, and you lightly held his wrist. He seemed concerned, but you did it because you wanted to and felt that you could, even though you'd never been this close before. "Thank you, Mr. Turner," you said casually, as if it didn't affect him profoundly.

As he sat down on the driver's side of the car, he closed the tinted windows, feeling safer with that precaution. He still worried about putting you in danger. He waited, knowing that feeling dizzy along with drinking water wouldn't be a good combination, even though he had insisted on it to help your body recover more quickly. He could hear your calm breathing, which put him at ease. You had closed your eyes, your mouth slightly ajar, and he looked at you, allowing himself to be captivated by every detail. He carefully adjusted your hair to prevent it from catching on the seat and strands from being pulled, whispering, "You can sleep; everything’ll be alright, I promise, little one." You found yourself charmed by the pet name, involuntarily smiling, and he made a mental note that you like it. Your arms lightly touched, and with the comforting scent of him surrounding you, you drifted into a light sleep. It was strange to be in such a bad situation with an outcome that neither of you regretted. He kept the radio off until reaching your destination. He’d never drive without music. 

… 

Your eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light as you realized you were leaning on him for support. Your forehead was resting on his shoulder, his soft T-shirt against your skin. He was more comforting to touch than your mind had led you to trust. He was kneeling in front of you while you sat on the bed. You no longer felt dizzy, but you were weak, with not all your senses fully present. Alex's hands delicately removed your earrings and necklaces, and it was nice to have him so close, a bit surreal. You almost believed you could be a doll with how he was treating you. He moved back, laying you down on his bed, and he smiled at you as a way to reassure you that everything was okay. You grabbed his arm, afraid he would leave. Alex quickly shook his head. "Hey, little one, I'm not going anywhere. I just need to get some water for you and something to dry your face." He sounded caring, making you want to cry because you knew this was wrong. But why did it feel so right?

"Promise?" You asked, not into the idea of falling into a deep sleep and when you wake up he wouldn't be there to call you little one anymore. He nodded, extending his pinky finger to seal the promise. The silence without him wasn't comforting; you felt like there were monsters under the bed. Still out of mind about time and space, you realized you were in his room, which made you feel even more fragile. The room had a light blue color, seemed well-lit during the day, had books scattered in an organized manner, and two guitars hanging on the wall. That made you put your hand over your mouth as you imagined how his fingers would behave playing those strings. You wanted to hug him, to let the scent and the soft chest lull you to sleep again. Your head was noisy, and you didn't like it.

When he returned, he moved in slow motion to you. He wiped your face and neck with a damp cloth, and you wondered why he was alone. He was a good man; you had thought about that before. Alex wouldn't sleep next to you, but he would stay with you as long as you needed him. He sat with his back against the headboard, looking at you for a moment. It was too late; this was no longer just a casual situation. You'd have to talk about it; you had formed a bond. Although you were scared, Alex liked it.

You asked him to lie down, and he complied. You were side by side, facing each other. Your eyelids struggled to close, but first they followed your fingers as they roamed his face. You traced the gentle lines at the corner of his eye, then the bridge of his nose. He was handsome. Sometimes you wanted to forget that he was older than you, even though you liked him that way. Your hand then touched his rough stubble, and he smiled when he saw you smiling at him. It was like a dream, like you had imagined and even better.

In an abrupt and unquestionably unplanned proceed, your hand hooked onto the collar of his T-shirt, pulling yourself closer. It was a light pull, and in the blink of an eye, your lips were on his, tender and airless. They lingered there, just touching, feeling each other's warmth and the mixing of breaths. Your hand pressed against his chest and held him to yourself, like he could heal you. You moved your lips with his slowly, warmly, and precisely, enjoying in a comfortable sigh every second of it, until he broke into a sigh of reality. He couldn't be doing this, not with you like this. Not wanting to startle you, he sealed your cheeks and nose a few countless times before planting small forehead kisses when he needed to refuse your touch. He felt guilty, but he wouldn't deny that it had been good, way better than he had fantasized. There were no words, and none were needed; both of you were aware of it. Although he thought you might not be as much, he feared you might not even remember this when you woke up.

Alex held your palm against his chest until you fell asleep. Then he got up, covered your body with a warm sheet, and left you there. Unable to restrain himself from touching your face before and stroking your hair. The next day, you would wake up, wondering if it had been a vivid dream or not. But his room would leave no doubts, with the guitars, the well-lit atmosphere, and his blazer still carrying his scent on you. You didn't know how you were going to talk to him after that, you thought about how he must think of you as a kid who doesn't know how to be in the real world. This time, however, you noticed a photo on the bedside table. He was hugging a woman while kissing her forehead. She had a neatly cut fringe and an angelic face; she was very pretty, and it made you feel insecure. She was around his age. You were wrong to be there, and then you got that the bed you were on was a double bed. You wanted to run away even though your head was pounding. Professor Turner might act like a good man, but he was still a man. Above all, you tried to think well of him; perhaps it was a divorce, right? You would have noticed the ring on his finger if he were married. He wouldn't take off the ring, would he? But why was that photo still there? You quickly got up, failing to remain composed when you saw that he had left a note and some money in case you needed to call an Uber. You couldn't just read it right away. You wanted to believe he was good, but it hurt. You felt used even though you hadn't done anything. Yet, you still felt like you wanted him around more often because you felt good with him. In the middle of class, Alex struggled with impatience, hoping you wouldn't leave without taking the note and the snack he had left for you, so you would have his number and be safe. But it didn't happen, at least not when he expected it to. 

...

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