#could maybe likee. cut it super carefully??? n lay it flat 2 get a good pic... idk tho sobbing

[nomaishuttle]

bedtime i surpose.. i loves you all mwhamwhamaha. ok bye

[wilwywaylan]

The Artist above and the Revolutionnary below - Part 4

Fandom : les Misérables

Modern!AU, Enjolras x Grantaire, 3473 words

Last part of the fic for the Same Prompt Challenge ! Finally, it’s done ! 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Also on AO3 !

- 

Step one : wash self. It would do no good to present himself to Enjolras looking like some kind of cave troll. So Grantaire took a shower, taking great care to wash his hair and untangle the curls. Once mostly dry and dressed in clean clothes, he aimed for the kitchen. Not for the coffee, even if he started by making himself a nice cup, but for something far more ambitious : he was going to cook.

Four hours later, his kitchen was a mess, every horizontal surface was covered in flour and there was even some sticking to some vertical parts, the sink contained more dishes that he believed he owned, and he was in dire need of another shower. But there was a whole plate of cookies in the oven, and it smelled quite good. Not that Grantaire wanted to brag, of course. He didn't have any time for it, anyway, he was way too busy watching the biscuits by the small window. He didn't want...he couldn't mess them up. He didn't have the courage nor the ingredients to start again.

But luckily for him, the cookies got out deliciously golden, and absolutely perfect. He transferred them into a metal box, resisting the urge to eat one himself. After a second shower that got rid of most of the flour, he went to sit at his easel. Now came the third, and most important part. Cookies were a nice touch, but he wouldn't be forgiven just with this, Bahorel's super secret recipe notwithstanding. No, he needed to find the perfect present that would melt Enjolras' anger like a cube of ice during summer. And nothing could be more of a perfect present than something handmade, or in his case, hand-drawn.

The white page was almost intimidating, at first, more than during one of his assignments, even. Assignments, he could bullshit his way through them if inspiration didn't strike. But this.... this was way more important. Okay, no, maybe not. He couldn't claim a cute boy was more important than his studies. It was important in a different way, but he couldn't just pretend he knew what he was doing. He needed to know. He needed to make it perfect.

The first strokes were hesitant, almost shy, barely scratching the surface. But as he went, the picture in his mind grew clearer, his gestures became more assured, and he started working faster.

When he finally moved, the sun had set, his neck was sending jolts of pain up his skull, his fingers hurt, and his hoodie had lost all pretention to be an actual color. He stretched, sending his arms above his head, only realizing now that his stomach was growling. Probably loud enough to wake his neighbors up. But he didn't care. He felt well. The painting on his easel was probably one of his finest works since... oh, several years. Enjolras stood in the middle of it ; Grantaire had painted him dressed in a XIXe century style, with a red jacket with a cockade pinned on the lapel, a black cravat resting undone on a white shirt under a black waistcoat. There was a smudge of blood on the cheek, but he was brandishing a red flag above his head. The whole sky behind him was a brilliant whirlwind of pink, orange and yellow, and a timid sun was stroking Enjolras' face with gold rays. Any critic would have dismissed the piece as "overly pompous" and "pretentious", but Grantaire felt a mix of pride and anxiety watching it. It certainly was fine, but didn't he exaggerate, making Enjolras' face softer than it was ? Maybe his eyes weren't fierce enough, not full of fire enough ? And what if Enjolras didn't enjoy a portrait of himself ? Oh well, too late now, it was done. Tomorrow, he would make his move. But for now, he wanted nothing more than sleep. He made his way to his room, abandoning his clothes on the way, and dropped on the bed. The remnants of Bahorel's impromptu breakfast were still on the nightstand, and he devoured the rest of the croissants. Once sated, he wrapped himself in the blankets and just laid there, content and sated, for the first time in days. Maybe things were looking up, after all.

~*~

Next morning saw Grantaire up earlier than he'd been in months. He'd woken up almost with the sun, and had been since tossing and turning under the blankets, trying to keep himself busy until it was a decent time to put his plan in motion. He didn't know about Enjolras' sleeping habits, and didn't want to wake him up. That wouldn't put him in good dispositions. So he browsed the internet, trying to distract himself until it was time to move.

At around 10 AM, he decided to act. He rolled out of bed and got ready, going through the motions with application, concentrating on each gesture to ignore the way his heart seemed to try to get free from his chest. He took the box of cookies, the painting, and snuck out into the hallway. It was dark and deserted. Perfect. He went down the stairs, his socked feet silent on the tiles. Still no one. He managed to reach door 32 without a hitch, without any nosy neighbor opening their door to see who was playing spies in the hallway. He carefully put the painting down, put the box beside it, with a small message he'd spent at least fifteen minutes writing. Nothing fancy, just a heartfelt "I'm sorry I've been an ass". No need to start babbling on writing. Good.

He rang the bell... and ran away, up the stairs, almost falling down and hitting the ramp in his hast. He had barely reached his story, when he heard a door open. There was  a moment of silence. And a thought hit him right between the eyes : what if Enjolras decided to climb here to see who put the presents on his doorstep ? He'd see him crouching behind the railing like an idiot. He dashed inside his apartment, closed the door, then opened it a tiny sliver. No Enjolras materialized on the landing, but there was a rustling. Like things being picked up and carried inside. So he had found the presents. Very good.

Grantaire retreated inside, pondering on the next move for a second. He could start working on his assignments again, clean a bit of his flat, maybe scrub his bathroom. Things would go back to how they were before all these guitar shenanigans. But that wasn't what he wanted, right ? So he needed to follow the plan.

He needed to rummage a little (a lot) through the mess accumulated under his bed and in his cupboard, but he finally unearthed an old, battered case. The guitar inside had lost a bit of its shine, but the intricate patterns on it, flowers and clouds, were still as vivid as always. He took it back to his window and sat as comfortably as possible. It was out of tune, of course, after so much time in storage, but the gestures came back to him easily, and soon, it was fit to play. He stroked the strings, just enjoying the sound for a few seconds, then started to warm up. The notes flew by the window, carried by the wind, soft and round at each vibration of the strings, climbing the scales up and down. His fingers were dancing, almost on their own, modulating the melody almost perfectly.

Under him, a window opened. He didn't hear footsteps, but he imagined them all the same. Time to go to step five. Or six, he didn't remember. He abandoned the scales for real melody. Still no noise coming from under him. Oh well, he could still play for himself, couldn't he ? After all, he did like this song. And so, he started singing softly, almost under his breath.

Lay down in the stars, my bonny lass Lay down in my arms, we'll make it last The senses aspire to this far greater time As the rivers flow your heart will be mine

He played the song from start to finish, enjoying how easily it was all coming back to him, the lyrics and the melody, how delightful it was to play again. The last notes fled outside, fading slowly as the strings stopped singing. Grantaire leaned on the guitar, feeling the vibrations stop under his fingers. The silence after a song always had a special quality, soft and serene, like it was another part, something that completed the song.

- Are you there ?

Enjolras' voice cut the silence, made him jump so hard that he almost dropped the guitar. He did call for him. Enjolras wanted to talk to him ! Do not ruin this, play it cool. He walked to the window and leaned out. Enjolras was peering up at him, and Grantaire's heart gave a little tug at the beautiful eyes fixed on him, so large and so blue that they seemed to hold the whole sky. He also noticed that he didn't look as angry as yesterday. Or perhaps he was very good at hiding his feelings. Grantaire composed himself a friendly smile, and answered :

- I am, yes. Hello, Enjolras.

- Hello. I heard you playing, so I wondered....

- If it was me, or the ghost of Christmas past ?

Enjolras frowned, and Grantaire remembered that he was supposed to be nice and friendly, not rile him up again by making fun of him.

- Sorry, he added. What can I do for you ?

- Someone put a box of cookies and a very nice painting on my doorstep, and I was wondering if you knew something about it.

The urge to roll his eyes was stronger than ever, but he refrained heroically.

- Why yes. Do you enjoy cookies, at least ? Because I didn't really ask...

- Oh, so it was you ?

- Yes ? I mean, I signed the note, so....

Enjolras frowned again, more perplexed that angry this time.

- Yes, but.... you.... didn't really introduce yourself. Your friend called you "R" that time, but I didn't know that it stood for "Grantaire", so...

This time, Grantaire facepalmed. Count on him to be so stupid he forgot to officially introduced himself.

- Sorry. I'm Grantaire. Pleased to meet you.

- Pleased to meet you too.

Grantaire tried not to smile too wildly.

- So, what do I owe the pleasure ?

- I heard the guitar. Were you playing ?

- Ah yes, I felt like getting it out of storage and tickling the strings a little.

- That was really great ! I didn't know you were such a good player !

He really needed to stop complimenting him, because Grantaire wasn't sure he was going to maintain his composure for long.

- It's been a while since I've played, but....

- Do you think you could... come down, and we'll play ?

What ? Did he hear right ? Was he....? This was a dream. This could only be a dream. Did Enjolras really ask him to come back ? But he was watching him with his beautiful eyes, and still looking expectantly up at him, and pinching himself didn't suddenly wake him up. That was reality.

When the information reached his brain, Grantaire grabbed his guitar and, once again, ran all the way to Enjolras' door. As he knocked, he suddenly realized that he had bypassed shoes entirely. Too bad, Enjolras was already opening the door, his cat in his arms. Grantaire scratched the little head between the hair, refrained from doing the same to Enjolras.

- So, he said instead, I heard you wanted to play ?

Enjolras lead him to the balcony again, where two cups of coffee were waiting, smoking quietly. Grantaire was both oddly touched by the welcoming gesture, and impressed at how Enjolras seemed to be sure that he would come done. But then again, maybe Bahorel was right and his crush *was* visible from space.

- Anything you want to play ? Grantaire asked once he’d sat down on the rickety chair.

- Can you play Wonderwall ?

- Of course, I taught you. Together ?

Enjolras picked up his own instrument. He carefully placed his hands as Grantaire had shown him, tuned it a little, then turned to face him. Grantaire counted the rhythm as he had taught it, careful of not going too fast.

It was weird, playing together like this. Enjolras did lack a bit in rhythm, forcing Grantaire to adjust, but nothing he couldn't deal with. He didn't dare sing at first, rather enjoying Enjolras' voice, but after the first verse, he just let himself get carried away. It was great, moving like this, in unison, almost like they were two halves of the same thing. Grantaire didn't want to read too much into the situation, but it was... exhilarating. It felt like flying. Like being, for a few seconds, at the top of the world, with him.

It ended, because of course, it had to end, leaving Grantaire disoriented, and a little breathless. Probably the singing, of course. But Enjolras looked as affected as him, so maybe he hadn't imagined the connexion they shared for a minute or two. He tried to play it cool, picking at the keys to retune the strings. Enjolras watched him do with interest.

- Can you play something else ? he asked suddenly.

- Of course. What do you like ?

- Anything you want.

Anything ? Grantaire didn't have to pick his brain to find a song. Of course, that would be a very daring move, but Fortune favored the bold and all that. What did he risk, except a slap and being thrown over the balcony rail ? (probably not). He started playing the chords, softly at first, then seeing that Enjolras didn't run away, launched into the song.

Wise men say only fools rush in But I can't help falling in love with you...

It was a good thing he knew the words by heart, because Enjolras was so close their knees were brushing, and Grantaire had great trouble stopping himself from jumping each time he touched him. His heart was beating fast, so fast, and he was sure he could hear Enjolras', beating in tune. Or that may just be wishful thinking.

He didn't know how he got to the end of the song without running away or bungling anything. He was ready to jump out of his skin at each light touch. And as he lifted his head, it was to discover the beautiful blue eyes set on him, pinning him in place. He  couldn't turn his head, he couldn't say anything, he could just look at him, and hope his eyes would do the talking.

Suddenly, Jude jumped on his master's lap, almost knocking the guitar over, breaking the spell. Enjolras patted him as he kneading his pants, and asked :

- This song...

- Yes.... Did you like it ?

- A lot... It's very pretty.

- Very, yes.

Perfect. When did they land in a potboiler and get turned into shy teenagers ? Grantaire would have slapped himself if he didn't fear looking like an idiot. He'd always hated that genre, so to suddenly find himself like this, babbling and muttering, incapable of speaking his mind... They'd never get there, not like that. Someone needed to take the reins of the conversation for something to happen, anything. He opened his mouth, but Enjolras beat him to it.

- Did you choose it for a reason ?

Ah, short and to the point. Enjolras certainly didn't embarrass himself with subtleties. But now, he was expecting an answer. And this meant Grantaire needed to think very hard about the answer he was going to give, and quick. And Enjolras was still looking at him, so he needed to focus extra hard to not say anything stupid or incriminating. And he needed to think, and to think quickly, instead of being sidetracked like this.

- I....

Great start, Grantaire. Now say something, or he's going to lose his patience, and maybe his temper. But what could he say ? That he really, really wanted to kiss him ? Hold his hand and the rest too ? Set his life at his feet ? Well, yes, this was what he wanted. But he couldn't say it, or Enjolras would run away. But he needed to say something now. Anything.

- I like it.

Oh great. This time, he hit his head against the guitar, lightly, of course.

- Is that the only reason ?

Grantaire took a deep breath, lifted his head. There they were. No going back now.

- I....

It didn't want to come. He was ready to say it, that was the best moment, the only moment, it was perfect, the atmosphere, the guitar, everything, and he couldn't say it. Count on him to be so stupid he couldn't confess his feelings.

A hand closed on his and squeezed gently. He looked down at their fingers, then back at Enjolras' face, who kept his eyes down.

- I don't want your whole life, he said, but I could... take your hand, if you want.

Grantaire was a bit tempted to laugh, but he refrained.

- Would you, really ? He asked, very low.

- I want to try, at least. If you want to.

He was looking at him, now, with such an open expression that Grantaire almost wanted to scream and tackle him. But no. Act like a normal person. He lifted the hand Enjolras wasn't holding, stroked his cheek, very slowly. His movements were measured, to give him all the time he needed to move back. But Enjolras didn't move back. Not when Grantaire bent down, very, very slowly to kiss him. It was soft, almost too much. Clumsy, too, like Enjolras wasn't used to being kissed. They just kept like this for a moment, barely moving. Not enough for Grantaire, he wanted more, way more, he wanted to ravish him, to leave him red, breathless, to hold him tight and never let go. But it was perfect none-the-less.

They parted for breath, and because Grantaire's neck was starting to hurt. Enjolras was looking at him, his cheeks a little red, his smile a little shy. Positively adorable. Without letting go of Grantaire's hand, he moved his chair a little closer, until he could lean against his shoulder. It was not the most comfortable way to sit, but Grantaire wouldn't have let go for anything in the world. Still, he felt compelled to ask :

- Are you sure you want this ? I mean....

Enjolras moved a little, and he wanted to hold him back, but he didn't step aside, not even a little.

- What do you mean ?

- Well... I'm me, and....

This time, Enjolras shifted to be able to look at him without leaving his shoulder.

- Yes, I know.

- Are you sure this is what I want ? Because....

- I am sure, yes. I know what I'm getting, and what I don't know, I will discover. And I'm sure I will like it.

A very large emotion got stuck in Grantaire's throat, effectively cutting all the words he could have used. So he just held Enjolras' hand tighter, and twisted a little to be able to lay a kiss on his forehead.

They sat like this for a moment in silence, watching the sparrows fly by. Grantaire's thumb was stroking the soft skin on Enjolras' hand, very gently. Suddenly, Enjolras asked :

- It wasn't... too awkward, was it ? When I said... (He gestured vaguely with his free hand.) About your life, and....

- It was, Grantaire chuckled, but that was adorable. It's very... you.

Enjolras laughed a little.

- You better get used to it, it seems that I'm very clumsy at speaking my feelings.

- Don't worry, I like it a lot.

- Good. Now would you maybe play that song for me again ?

Grantaire let go of Enjolras' hand with a hint of regret, and took his guitar back. Immediately, Enjolras settled back against his shoulder. Grantaire didn't know if he could play with someone against him like that, but he certainly wasn't going to ask him to move. Certainly not. He stroked the strings again, and started the song a second time. Enjolras was warm and heavy against him, and it was perfect. The notes started to fly above the roof, to tell everyone listening that they had finally found each other.

-

Songs are True Life Song by Jon Anderson, and Can’t help falling in love with you by Elvis Presley

[upinthestarsx3]

Off Limits (m) Part 1

Professor!reader x College student!Jungkook au

Genre: short series|smut|mostly angst|fluff in future|au

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: Language and mature content. I guess I should also warn that I love writing stories with no happy endings.

Summary: You’re fresh out of college having just received your masters degree in Math. You begin working at a nearby college and meet your headstrong student, Jungkook. After a drunk hookup; things get complicated.

A/N: There are some typos; I hate hate hate typos but tumblr won’t let me edit them on mobile; so I will do some editing as soon as I have some time on my laptop.

“You can do this. You’ve waited your entire life for this moment. You can do it.” You whisper to yourself in your bathroom mirror; straightening out your dark pink dress that went down to your knees and checking if your black flats went nicely with it.

Today you would officially be known as professor (y/n). Having just finished your masters degree at 26, you never thought you’d get a job teaching at a college this soon.

“Oh my God, you look like you could be a student.” You whip your head around to see your roommate standing in the doorway with a wide smile on her face.

“Stop it, Gia! I’m nervous enough.” You pout, rubbing your face in frustration, carefully avoiding your eyes; you’d be damned if you had to redo your eye liner for a 5th time today.

“Sorry- it’s just... It’s crazy that my roommate whom just graduated from college herself, is going to be a math professor.” She grins even wider before continuing, “but good luck because everyone hates math. Kick ass today, babes.” And with that, she’s out of the door.

The entire car ride to work was a blur, it was only until you were pulling into the parking lot that you realized you were actually here. With shaking hands, you open up your class schedule and realize your very first lecture started 5 minutes ago.

“Fuck!” You scream, running from your car and into the lecture hall; when you finally enter the room, you practically leap to your desk and face the class, watching 20 pairs of eyes staring back with deep frowns.

“I’m so sorry I’m-“ you begin before being cut off,

“You know that we’re allowed to leave class if a professor is more than 10 minutes late, right?” A student speaks up, angrily. Your eyes find his angry ones and you give a small smile; trying to make a good impression on everyone although you clearly already soiled it.

“Um, I’m sorry. Today is my fi-“

“Are you a student teacher or something.” He speaks up again, the same rude look on his face. Any professor would have probably given him a speech about respect and kicked him out, but you couldn’t. You were the most non-confrontational person on the face of earth, and you begin to think you may have picked the wrong profession.

“I’m not a student teacher. I actually just graduated with a masters so-“

“And did your professors allow you to be late for class?” He spoke up rudely again, this time you felt your fist clench at your sides.

“Jungkook, stop. She looks like she might cry.” You hear the man in the seat next to him say quietly.

You decide against your better judgement to ignore him, skip class introductions all together and get them started on their work.

No matter how cruel it may sound, you were really hoping that this rude guy was super bad at math so that you could give him a taste of his own medicine, but he wasn’t- he was actually amazing at it, and you hated that.

“Okay, so the answer you should’ve gotten for this problem is 38.5! Everyone okay with how I did that or do you guys want me to go over it again?” You ask with a small smile, excited that you were approaching the end of class.

“That’s not the correct answer, professor.” The student you now know as Jungkook speaks up for 10th time today. You turn towards the board and scan through the problem for your mistake, after a few seconds you hear someone move from their seat and you feel them put a hand on your waist to push you aside slightly.

“Right here.” He points, “you multiplied that wrong, professor.” He says, dragging out the last word dramatically.”

You look over at your phone and see the it’s 2 minutes past noon, class is finally over.

Without addressing the problem on the board you plaster on a fake smile and say, “Well, have a good day everyone! Class is over, no homework. I’ll see you at our next class.”

When everyone leaves, you throw yourself onto your chair and lay your head on your desk as you begin to cry. Today had truly been the worst day of your life, you were sure of it.

“He’s like that you know.” You hear someone speak up, and you pick your head up wiping at your face to see Jungkook’s friend picking up his book bag that he apparently forgotten. Then he continued, “Its not you, he’s like that with everyone. His dad’s the president of the school so he does what he wants. Well, see you next class!” Then he’s out of the classroom leaving you with your tears once again.

Somehow you make it home even with tears blocking your vision throughout the drive, you had never been so humiliated. When you walk through your apartment door, your roommate is waiting with for you with a cake in her hands.

“Congratulations again, babe! What took you so long? I had to track your phone to see when you were com-“ she stops at the sight of your red eyes and pout.

“Bad day?” She asks with open arms and you nod and run to her. You were used to Gia comforting you in your times of need; she was like a sister to you. You two met while you both worked as waitresses at the same job and have been inseparable ever since.

“How about this... I’m working tonight at the club, come? Free drinks? If you’re feeling frisky I’ll even let you dance on the pole?” She asks with a smile. You lift your head up and nod, she knew you could never turn down a night out. Free drinks were apart of her job as a dancer, or what some might call, stripping. You make sure to never say that to her face though. You finish getting dressed in a short black dress with black heels to match while your roommate packed her stage outfit in her bag.

Not even an hour into you arrival, you’re already 5 tequila shots ahead of Gia.

“Catch up!” You laugh as you begin slurring your words. Your roommate laughs even louder at your drunk alter ego.

“I can’t, I have to get on stage soon, remember?” She nudges you, still downing one last shot before standing onto her feet.

“Okay, you know slurring is the first sign of your ‘too drunk’ antics so chill out until I’m finished so we can party hard afterwards.” She sings as she walks towards the back to get ready for her stage time.

It’s not long before Gia’s name is announced and she comes out to begin her performance. A crowd begins to form around her and you see several months worth of rent thrown onto the stage. It was definitely busy for a Monday night, that’s for sure. After an hour on stage Gia begins picking up her cash and like usual, she ushers you onto the stage since part of your drunk alter ego was pole dancing.

“How much for a private session?” You hear someone ask, and when you turn with a small smile ready to politely decline, you smile drops as you’re face to face with Jungkook. You hop off of the stage with shock written all over your face.

“What are you doing here?” You gasp with crimson cheeks.

“I’m a 21 year old man, and it’s free drink night at a strip club, why wouldn’t I be here?” He responds with raised eyebrows as though its ridiculous that you even asked.

“How about you? You have the nerve to question me as if you’re not a professor by day and a stripper at night.” He laughs.

“I’m not a stripper. My roommate is..” you reply, as though you even owe him an answer.

“Shame. I really wanted that private session.” He says with a smirk.

“Yah. Well have fun with your friends, let’s keep this little meeting between you and I, okay?” You plead while walking away to find Gia.

“Who was that?” She says with a knowing smirk.

“Nothing. Just some guy.” You respond quickly, although you wanted to tell her it was the same student that embarrassed you only hours ago and he just basically asked you for a lap dance.

“Shots!” She yells, handing them out to you and the other dancers who were now off of their shift. You throw yours back quickly and down 3 more after that before dragging Gia on the dance floor you.

“Let’s dance?” Someone whispers from behind you and you look to Gia to see her wiggle her eyebrows and turn away to dance with someone else. Without turning around to see who the man was, you just lean your back against his chest and the two of you begin dancing.

It started harmless enough, but soon enough he was grinding onto your ass, his hands squeezing each side of your hips so he’s able to pull you against his bulging crotch. You feel his breath hit your neck and his lips drag themselves from your shoulder to the back of your ear as he begins sucking the skin there.

“How about the lap dance now?” He whispers and your eyes fly open, quickly removing his hands and turning around with force to face him. Then you see him, you really see him. His hair is pushed back and it’s a good look on him. His skin is glazed over with a thin layer of sweat and he still managed to smell good. His eyes are hung low and it’s almost as though as speaking to you through them.

“Fuck it.” You assert and begin pulling him towards the back.

When you reach the set of private rooms he pulls you into one of them and he sits patiently on the long couch. You shyly lock the door and turn towards him,

“You have nice thighs.” Your blurt out, mentally slapping yourself for being so awkward. He laughed softly before mumbling,

“Maybe you can ride them one day; but for now, give me my lap dance, baby.” his deep voice making you blush. You were thankful that the music on the dance floor made its way to the private rooms.

Walking your way over to him you try to be seductive, and lucky for you, that wasn’t very hard. When you finally reach the waiting man, you sit in his lap, placing a leg on each side of his thighs, but you made no effort to move.

“Apologize.” You demand, taking his wrists into your small hands, making him laugh at your boldness.

“For earlier,” you continue, “apologize. Or no dance.”

“Sorry.” He says as soon as you’re finished. “Really, I am sorry I just-“

“Shut up,” you whisper, letting your head rest on his shoulder as you begin to dance to the music, still holding onto his wrists. Jungkook eyes your curiously as the hold on his wrists tightens and you latch your lips onto his neck. His breathing picks up while you grind on him. The dress you chose to wear is now bunched together right under you chest, leaving your bottom half bare with just a black thong.

“Can I touch you?” He asks, softly shaking his hands to free his wrists from your grasp. You wanted to him to work harder for that, make him struggle a little like he did to you in class today. But you also wanted to feel his touch, as soon as you released his wrists; his hands went down to the button of his jeans and he begins unbuttoning them while keeping his eyes on you, to see if this was okay.

Once they were undone you dragged his jeans to his ankles sat back down on his lap. He let out a deep hiss when you begin rolling your hips again. Without a warning he takes your face in his hands and begins to kiss you. His tongue enters your mouth and he takes over without a fight from you. After kicking the rest of his jeans off, he lifts you and places you down on the couch, his lips still attached to yours. Jungkook leans up for a moments and begins taking the rest of your clothes off. You squeeze your legs shut with a red face and he looks at you with a grin.

“You were dancing on a pole an hour ago and now you wanna play shy?” He questioned. When you don’t answer he shakes his head with a small smile and places a hand on each of your knees, opening your legs easily. He stays there like that for a moment, you begin to feel uncomfortable and bring your hands down to cover your womanhood but he slaps your hands away.

“Don’t hide your pussy from me.” He demands, looking you straight in the eye, holding your gaze until you were first to look away.

“How can I make it up to you?” He speaks up again,

“What?”

“From the way I acted earlier. I want to make it up to you.” He whispers as he hovers over you and begins placing kisses on your neck. You feel him suck the skin there but you don’t bother stopping him. His mouth finds your breast and you watch him slowly suck your nipple until it’s erect, he then moves to the other one to do the same.

“Enough teasing, please just-“

“Just what?” He asks in a mocking tone.

“Just fuck me before I change my mind.” You blush. He doesn’t laugh this time. He throws his boxers off and leans over you once again, pumping his own cock a few times, looking around the room for what you think is a condom.

“Don’t worry. I’m on the pill.” You say nervously, his eyebrows scrunch together and you quickly backtrack, “unless that makes you uncomfortable then-“

“No no. It’s just. I can’t believe I’m this lucky right now.” It’s his turn to blush at his own words.

Wasting no more time he teases your cunt with his manly hood. Pressing it against your clit every once in a while because he loved the way you looked when your arched your back from pleasure. Before you can tell him to hurry, he enters you easily.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” He moans. Without giving you a second he begins snapping his hips against yours. The sound of his body hitting yours is almost louder than the music. You close your eyes and squeeze your breasts but you hear him say,

“Don’t close your eyes. Look at me.” Between heavy breaths. When you don’t open them right away he stops altogether,

“I said, Look. At. Me.” And with that, your eyes are staring into his and he smiles before he continues moving again. You reach up to grab his shoulders and pull him down with you, leaving kisses and bruises on neck with no care in the world. He wraps his arms around your body as he continuously fucks you. Your moans only increase when you feel his finger on your clit, pressing on it and rubbing it at a fast pace.

“Oh my God, Jungkook. Faster.” You allow your eyes to squeeze shut tightly as you finally reach climax. You lean further into the couch and allow the feeling of euphoria to take over. When you finally look over at Jungkook you see that he’s still hard, but he didn’t bother to complain.

“You didn’t-“

“That’s okay.” He smiles, knowing you were going to mention that it wasn’t fair he didn’t cum.

Instead, you slide off of the couch and onto your knees in front of him. You look up at him and he has a soft smile on his face, opposite from how angry his thick cock looked. You carefully lean in and lick the tip a few times, earning a small gasp from the man above you. With a little more confidence, you take the base of dick in your hand, and put the whole tip in your mouth while your tongue swirled around him. You feel his hand on the back of your head but he just leaves it there for now. You lean down and take more of him into your mouth, lightly gagging around him. When you try to lean up for air he pushes your head back down lightly.

“I’m sorry, but I’m almost there. Please keep going.” He moans with his head lolled backwards in satisfaction. You obey and eagerly bob your head up and down on him, gagging a little more each time you feel him hit the back of your throat.

“Ah fuck. I’m gonna cum.” He moans breathlessly, but you kept your mouth on him, swallowing his cum with no problem.

“Y/N! Where are you? The club is closing!” You hear Gia rumbling drunkly around the back.

“I have to go.” You stand up quickly, looking around for you clothes,

“Already? You don’t wanna grab some late night pizza or something?” He asks with wide eyes.

“Oh I’m not hungry.”

“Then maybe we can take a walk through the park and talk?”

“No Jun-“

“Come home with me, then? Please?” He pleaded, still sitting naked on the couch. You had to admit that this felt intimidate, like it was more than just sex for him.

“I have to get home, Kookie.” You causally reply.

“Kookie? Did you just give me a pet name?” He chuckled, holding up the underwear you had been looking for.

“Sorry- it just seems to go. I’ll call you Jungkook, that was inappropr-“

“No! I mean, I like it. It’s fine.”

“You have a terrible habit of cutting people off do you know that?” You laugh, walking over to him to take your underwear but instead, he holds it opened and tells him to put one foot in, then the next, and finally he pulls them up for you. You don’t bother moving away from him yet, instead, you play with his hair and allow him to wrap his arms around your waist. It’s not until he’s leaving open mouth kisses right above your underwear that you stand back,

“If you keep that up, I’ll never want to leave.”

“That was the plan.” He replied smoothly.

Once you’re dressed you walk towards the door, looking back to see him standing there, as though he’s waiting for something.

“Everything okay? Are you able to make it home alright?” You ask.

“No kiss goodbye?” Ignoring your question from before.

“Jungkook-“

“What happened to Kookie?” He bites back quickly.

“Jungkook, stop. This was fun, okay? Thank you for tonight but-“

“I get it, you don’t have to explain yourself. You’re my professor and I’m your student and this is wrong-“ He continues speaking but you can no longer hear him. It was like you were suddenly slammed back into reality. Had you really jeopardized everything for a drunk night of bliss?

“Stop.” You shake your head. When he doesn’t you scream again, “STOP!” And it makes him jump this time. 

“This!” You motion between the two of you, “Can’t ever happen again. Ever! Understand?” 

He gives up, a defeated look on his face and then a scowl takes over while he replies, “Loud and clear professor.”

A/N: I was looking for a fanfic like this to read last night and I realized there aren't many (I actually couldn't find any) where the reader is the college professor instead of the idol being the professor. You know what they say if you can’t find one to read then write one. Hope you enjoyed. Requests are still opened for reactions and scenarios.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Read my other work here.