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unearthly-doting · 6 months ago

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yandere farmer

a/n: smth smth i Really like people w southern accents smth smth so here's a farmer. im not 100% satisfied w this one but it's been in my drafts for so long so here it is.

warnings: mdni, not proofread, yandere content, gn reader, male yandere, idk how cars work so, overprotective behavior, obsessive behavior, reader has hair in this sorry if u dont, murder, brief mention of vomit, non-con kissing, mild depictions of gore, choking, i think that's it??

— maybe it's a bit cliché but life in the big city was exhausting, and all you wanted to do was get away from it all. it was a bit sudden, deciding you wanted to uproot your entire life and start somewhere new, but you knew that this is exactly what you needed.

— and it's not as if you weren't going into this blind. a friend of yours had a family vacation home in a small farm town that hadn't been used in years, and they were willing to let you stay there until you could find a place of your own.

— you had everything planned out. you had enough money on you for gas and food for the drive there, and you had already had some of your stuff shipped off to your new temporary home, so you didn't have to worry about leaving anything behind. you even kept a little extra money on you in case you needed to crash at a motel.

— the drive had started off fine. traffic wasn't too bad as you left the city, and there were no major setbacks until you were almost at your destination. when you were 20 miles out from the farmer town you'd be living in, your car just suddenly died on you. it still had gas in the tank, and there didn't seem to be anything wrong with the car itself, it just… died.

— what's worse is the fact that your phone had no service. you suppose that's not too shocking, considering how far out in the country you are, but it's a bit shocking, isn't it? you're not that educated on farming life or this small town, but surely they had modern technology, right?

— it's cliché, honestly. it felt like the start of some cheap slasher. or maybe a southern christmas romance movie. you're not quite sure which would be worse. the slasher, realistically. whatever, you're getting off track.

— the point is, your car is dead, your phone is useless, and it's starting to get dark. you could probably make it to that motel you saw a few miles back, but you didn't really feel comfortable leaving your car out here alone. not to mention you're not even sure if you have enough money on you to cover one night at a motel.

— the universe, in all her mercy, takes pity on you before you can get too upset over your plight, because not even 20 minutes after your car stops, a truck drives by. it's beat up, but it slows to a stop next to your car. the window rolls down, revealing the driver to be a man just a little older than you.

— he asked if you needed help, and offered to tow your car and drive you to town. you didn't have much choice but to agree, and the drive to town was… not as awkward as you thought it would be, actually.

— the man introduced himself as rigby shaw, a farmer that lives on the outskirts of town. you actually drove by his farm maybe 15 miles back, and he had been heading into town to pick up some medication for one of his dogs when he saw you pacing outside your car. in turn, you told him how you were moving into the small town because life in the city had been overwhelming.

— rigby didn't think you'd survive long outside of the city. city folk rarely ever strive in small, out of touch towns, away from modern technology. the small handful that made their way here always went back to the city not even three months into being here, so he didn't expect to see you last long either. you were nicer than most city folk, though.

— but you were determined to make a living out here, so when rigby dropped you off, you got to work immediately. you unpacked your stuff that had been there waiting for you, and in the morning, you got to work trying to fix your car. turns out, your fan belt had somehow come loose just enough that your car could no longer function. why? who knows, maybe the universe was in a silly mood.

— anyways, you settled into the small town life with relative ease, and rigby was very surprised when he returned to town a few weeks later, you were still there. the only thing you were struggling with was finding a job. maybe because he was fascinated by your determination, but rigby ended up offering you a job on his farm. he did need help taking care of the crops and feeding the animals there, but he mostly just wanted to learn more about you.

— you were a fast learner, and his dogs took to you fairly quickly. the cattle and horses were a little less trusting, though that was expected. he's sure they'll take to you soon enough, given how you respect their boundaries and go at their pace unlike his previous farmhands. you had no problem taking on any challenge rigby had set up for you, and maybe that's when he started finding himself thinking about you.

— if he's out in town while you're on the farm, he's worrying that you might get injured without him around. you can take care of yourself, but he can't help but worry. same for when you're in town while he's on the farm. you’re still an outsider there, and he knows that some of the townsfolk may try scaring you off. or maybe they'll try hurting you. or maybe you'll be completely fine and he's just overreacting.

— he starts hovering around you more often when you're on his farm, jumping in to help you whenever he thinks you might be struggling with something. you think he's just worried you might fuck his crops up or something, so you never really pay much mind to his behavior. it only struck you as odd when he insisted on helping you feed the dogs of all things. was he scared you would poison them? you wouldn't, obviously, so you don't know why he'd think that.

— his behavior only seems to escalate when you meet a guy in town one day and start going on casual dates with him. he was… shocked, when you asked to take the day off because of some guy. in the months that you've been living in town, you had never shown any interest in pursuing a romantic relationship with… anyone, truly. you had always seemed so dedicated to working on the farm and making a living for yourself, rigby had never even considered you could want anything other than that.

— at first, he felt disappointed. why would you prioritize dates with some guy when you could be working on the farm with him instead? it took him a bit to realize that disappointment he was feeling was jealousy. he hated when you'd step away from him to accept calls from your new boyfriend. he hated how you stopped eating lunch with him in favor of eating it with your boyfriend.

— your boyfriend wasn't even that great of a guy. rigby did some research on him–it's not stalking, he's just making sure it's safe for you to date this guy!–and he was not pleased with what he found. you could do so much better! you didn't understand why rigby was so interested in your boyfriend, always asking questions about how he treats you, if he's really what you're looking for in a relationship, if you actually loved him…

— you couldn't help but notice how touchy rigby has become as well, his hands always lingering on you far too long when he helps you with your work. you swear that you've heard him smell your hair a few times when he's close as well. he's been acting weird ever since you officially started dating your boyfriend. he's even going as far as to pile more work on top of you, leaving little free time for you to spend with your lover.

— it's gotten unbearable to the point where you decided you ultimately needed to find a new place to work. you liked rigby, he was a great guy with a kind heart, but his behavior was bordering on obsession and you didn't want to enable this behavior by ignoring it. your boyfriend agreed, and with his help, you were able to find a job at the local market in town.

— rigby was not pleased when he heard you on the phone with your lover, talking about how you'd tell him you were quitting after you finished work.

You're not really sure what happened. One moment, you were on the phone with your boyfriend and then the next, you were being hit in the head and everything had gone dark. The sun had only just started setting when you had been knocked out, but it was completely dark outside when you had woken up.

Your head was pounding as you opened your eyes, looking around in an attempt to figure out what the hell had happened to you. You were still on the farm, that much you knew. The first thing that worried you was the fact that your hands were bound to a wooden post, leaving you unable to move without injuring yourself. Your phone was broken on the ground, so it was completely useless.

Did a trespasser knock you out? It's not the first person people have trespassed on the farm, trying to steal the horses or ‘save’ the animals Rigby had. You had assumed that to be the case, because… what else could have happened for you to be tied up like this?

“Rigby?!” You shout his name, wincing at the throbbing in your head as you did so. Was he okay? Was he hurt? What if something happened to him? What if–

Your panicked thoughts get put on pause when a light blinded you, and you shied away from it as best as you could as you tried to figure out its source. It seemed to be a flashlight, and you only realized who was holding it when they got closer.

For a moment, you relaxed at the sight of Rigby, relieved to see he was okay as he approached, though there was something off about him. Maybe it was the fact that he didn't seem injured, yet there was blood on his hands. Or maybe it was the… borderline crazed look in his eyes.

Something wasn't right.

“Rigby…?” You hesitantly called his name, your relief bleeding away into a reluctant unease, “Are you okay? What happened? Why am I tied up?”

His silence did little to help you as he set his flashlight down on the ground and started undoing your binds. Your wrists felt raw as you gently rubbed them once they were free, standing up while Rigby retrieved his flashlight.

“Rigby, what the hell is going on?” You ask, growing frustrated at being left in the dark. You had been knocked out and tied up, so you think you deserve some sort of explanation as to what had happened.

“I have a gift for you.” Rigby says, completely dodging your question as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you after him. His grip was tight, almost bruising as he dragged you along, ignoring you when you asked him to loosen his grip on you. He refused to answer any of your questions, and you were starting to get worried.

You've never been scared of Rigby. Sure, his behavior lately had been concerning, but you had no reason to be scared. But right now, you couldn't help but feel a bit afraid as he led you in the dark. Your concern only grew when you realized he was taking you to the barn the pigs were kept in.

“Will you just tell me what's going on?” Your words fall upon deaf ears as he passes the flashlight to you, motioning for you to take the lead as he opens the barn doors. You hesitate before shining the flashlight in the barn, slowly stepping forward.

Most of the pigs were sleeping in their own separate stalls, a few were watching you and Rigby with indifference as you both stepped deeper into the barn. But two things stood out to you. One, a handful of pigs were nowhere to be seen. Two, there was this weird… squelching sound coming from the back of the barn.

“It's just back there.” Rigby says, his breath hitting the back of your neck and causing you to jump. You hadn't even realized how close he had gotten. You scurry forward just to get some distance. Truthfully, you didn't want to see this ‘gift’ Rigby was talking about, but you knew that you couldn't turn back.

Deep down, you knew something horrible was about to happen. The squelching sound grew louder, and you could hear the sound of chewing along with it. When you looked back at Rigby for some sort of reassurance, he just had this strange smile on his face. It sent a chill down your spine.

And when you hesitantly looked in the last stall at the very back of the barn to see the source of the noise, your ‘gift’, you dropped the flashlight in horror and let out a scream as you stumbled back right into Rigby's arms.

On the ground was your boyfriend's corpse, his face nearly maimed beyond recognition as several pigs chewed at his body. You're lucky you're able to swallow the vomit in your throat as you try to get out of Rigby's hold, looking away from the horrific scene in front of you as you cried.

“Let go of me!” You claw at his arms, but he just holds you tightly against his chest, gently shushing you as he forces you to watch the pigs eat.

“Do you like it?” He asks, completely ignoring your horror, “It wasn't hard getting him to come here. I just told him you had an accident, and suddenly, he was on his way. Isn't that sweet? It's a shame he wasn't stronger… he never would've been able to protect you if someone tried hurting you. But I can, see? I can give you what you deserve.”

You weren't even listening to his deluded words, trying to squirm out of his hold, “You're a fucking monster.” You spit out, a sharp gasp being torn out of your mouth when he shoves you against the wall of the barn, his hand around your throat as he lightly squeezes. A subtle threat, one that had you shutting up.

“I expect some fucking gratitude, you ungrateful brat.” Rigby’s voice is cold, his anger had never been something you'd ever been on the receiving end of, “I did this for you. For us. You should be thanking me.” His hand on your throat tightens, squeezing the air out of your lungs, his gaze hard as he stares at you expectantly.

Desperate for air, you're barely able to wheeze out a small, “Thank you.”

As black spots start to fill your vision, Rigby removes his hand from your neck, and you're able to breathe again. His anger was gone, replaced with delighted satisfaction.

“Of course, darlin’.” He sweetly says, a bloodied hand coming up to gently wipe the tears off your face, “I'd do anything for you. I can provide for you, so just be good for me in return, okay?”

And as he pulls you into a kiss, his lips pressing against yours with a heated desperation, you find yourself missing the city for the first time since you left it.

#oc: the farmer — rigby shaw.#yandere farmer x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x gn reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader #yandere oc x you #male yandere x you #yandere farm x you #yandere #yandere oc #yandere farmer #yandere imagines

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jamespotterismydaddy · 10 months ago

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Drunken Promises

luke castellan x reader.

A/N: had a request for sub luke and mommy kink luke so i combined them hehe

WARNINGS: SMUT, mommy kink, subby luke, he whimpers y'all

WORD COUNT: 886 words

Liquor never makes anyone feel better. There’s no drowning sorrows when they only drown you. Luke knows that but he drank anyway. It’s a fun night, a party for the older campers around the fire but when everyone’s left for bed, there’s no more comfort. He sobs. It’s too much for him. Everything is too much, the quests, the fighting, the intrinsic desire for glory. It doesn’t matter if he dies if he goes out in flames.

He hears your footsteps before he sees you as you wander back to the campfire. It gives him time to wipe his eyes, the redness could easily be from his intoxication.

“Forgot my jacket.” You murmur as you grab it. He thinks that you’ll likely leave right away but is irritated when you sit down and stare into the fire. No more private breakdown for him.

“Hmm.” He acknowledges your words before getting up but he stumbles, tripping over nothing and falling at your feet.

“Someone’s had too much to drink.” You tease.

“Shut up.” He grumbles and tries to get up again but you just pull him into the seat next to you.

“Maybe you need a minute before you try to walk again.”

He rolls his eyes and rubs the dirt from his face, wincing when his knuckles run over his scar. The fall perhaps made it tender and it’s still a… fresh mark.

“Are you okay?” The look in your eyes is so kind and almost maternal. It makes him blush.

“Yeah.” He lies.

“You went through a lot, Luke.”

“Everyone here goes through shit.” He brushes off your sentiment.

“Doesn’t make your shit less important.” Your words are still a bit slurred but it’s like you’ve sobered up just to comfort him and you hand him your bottle of water. You put in the effort to take care of him… and it really makes him want to kiss you. He can’t decide if that’s pathetic or not.

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbles out, knowing he would never be able to say it in any other situation.

“You’re so drunk.” You giggle a bit.

“I’m not.” He opens up the water bottle and downs half of it to try and prove himself. “At least not much drunker than you.”

“Bullshit. You’re about to fall off your seat again.” You roll your eyes and stand up, planning to drag him back to his cabin.

He grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap. “I’m not.” You can see it in his eyes. If being sober means he has a chance, then he’ll force the liquor out of his blood with a thought.

“You’re in a very vulnerable state right now, Luke.” You say with a sigh.

“Please.” He begs, putting on the puppy dog eyes. “I just need you.”

“Poor thing. You would need any girl that came across you like this.” You try to get up but he holds your hips.

“No, I just want you, I swear it. There’s no other girl like you.” His needy hands run along your waist, savouring the feel of your skin. He at least seems genuine.

“You want me to take care of you?” You murmur and his pupils blow out with lust.

“So… s’badly.” He leans in as you lean back to tease for a moment until you finally allow him to catch your lips.

There’s so much passion in the kiss, and desire. You can feel every last ounce of appreciation and desperation in it. He knows he’s never needed anything so much like he needs your touch right now. You can feel it as he bucks his hips into yours. You lose your shorts as he unzips his and when you sink down on him, it feels like he’s found heaven between your thighs.

You start to bounce slowly in his lap.

“Oh, fuck…” He groans as he holds you so close to him, bucking his hips up pathetically to meet your movements.

“You’re doing so good for me… so good.” You squeeze around him purposefully when he’s fully inside.

“Mmm… mommy.” He whines out and his eyes immediately widen when he realizes what he just said. “I didn’t-I mean-”

“It’s okay, baby. Let mommy take care of you.” You start kissing his neck as you grind against him and he lets out continuous whimpers.

This is one of the first times Luke has let go of control and nothing has ever felt so damn good. With all stress in his life, it’s freeing to be treated in such a way.

“I’m gonna cum. Please let me cum.”

“I think you can do better than that.” You tease.

“Please, please, please. I need to cum so badly. Please, mommy.” He’s desperate and so polite so you allow him.

“Go ahead, baby.”

You squeeze a little more to encourage him and he finishes right inside your pulsing core, letting out more whines that you muffle with your mouth.

“You did so good.” You praise, running your fingers through his curls. He wishes he could stay like this with you forever.

“I did?” His eyes light up, almost every demi-god is a sucker for being told they’re worth something.

“Couldn’t have been closer to perfect.”

And perfect is what he’ll be if it means he gets you.

tglists (comment to be added): General: @valeskafics @urmomsgirlfriend1 @girlwith-thepearlearring @darylandbethfanforever9 @lovellies @juhdoche @papichulo120627 @watercolorskyy @ophelialaufey @aerangi @ravenclawprincess33

Luke Castellan: @amortencjja @urmomsbananabread @kissingyourgrl @vikimontethegirlblogger @maryann2013 @stark-head @remussbitch @ever8ea @batmandabest @jennapancake @junos-web @tanifsblog @stupidtween @10ava01

#luke castellan smut #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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i-cant-sing · 7 months ago

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Salauddin screaming and THROWING UP because Princess reader won't stop picking up stray animals from outside and bringing them into her bedroom because "it's too hot for them outside ;( " "you said my room was the coolest soo..."

on the contrary, Salauddin himself is an animal lover. They're Allah's creations that cannot speak, that cannot ask for help, they're just vulnerable. He cares for his horses very greatly, no expenses are spared for the their stables, their caretakers and the best medicine from around the world. The pain of thirst, its one of the worst ways to dies, so Salauddin makes sure no one in his kingdom ever goes to sleep hungry or thirsty, humans or animals. He's had special water systems and pots designed practically everywhere in Egypt so birds and dogs and other animals get to drink their fill.

BUT as much as Salauddin cares for animals, he doesnt... exactly appreciate his palace turning into a zoo because of all the animals you keep bringing in. Its kinda his fault really. All Salauddin did was get a pretty white kitten that had blue eyes- it was so cute, so he gifted it to you. When you asked him why, he couldnt say that its because the cute kitten reminded him of you. So he said that it was too hot outside for small animals like Fatima (as you had named her) and he saw the realisation dawn in your eyes as you looked out at the pyramids, nodding your head along.

Salauddin sighed in irritation as he felt something furry rubbing against his legs. He looked down under his desk to see a black kitten with green eyes- Bilal. You took him in and said "but Salauddin! Fatima is all alone and she needs a playmate! Besides, Bilal is bullied by the street kids cause he's black and they think that he was a jinn!" You used such excuses to adopt 3 more cats (Mustafa, Haider, Zahra) and now you spend dressing them in cute hijabs- yes even the males.

He picked up the black cat and tickled his chin as he began making his way towards your- or what used to be your room. On his way, he passed by servants chasing after your chickens- Emir, Ahmed and Riyaan.

The doors opened as he entered, the room was in complete chaos. Feathers were falling down as birds flew around the room with the maids hot on their tails. Your cats were resting in one corner with your dogs- Shams and Talia standing guard over them. And you? You were in the center of all this chaos, sitting on the ground with a pet sheep- Mihirmah in your arms as you sheared it carefully. You had found her last night on your way home, not even bothering to ask if you could keep her along with your rest of the petting zoo.

Then again, why would his wife need to ask him? Whats his, is yours.

He walked over and sat down beside you and you finally looked up.

"I found Bilal." He stated, petting the kitten that nuzzled his face against him. You smiled sweetly at him. "Thank you! I was so busy with Mihirmah, I didnt realise he had left. I think he escaped when they took the chicks out for a walk."

He hummed before nodding his head at the sheep. "And how many that makes it now?"

"One." "Y/n." He deadpanned. "Well, one sheep. In total, 52 animals."

"Y/n." He looked at you in disbelief. "How- what- it was 45 last week." You looked at him sheepishly. "Well... its not my fault, really. You see- um, well you know how we thought Shams and Talia were just siblings? I think they were confused and um, Talia just gave birth to 6 pups." You avoided his eyes as he stared at you.

"Y/n-"

"I am not getting rid of them, Salauddin." You warned him, petting the sheep in your arms. "They need us to care for their babies! They're new parents!"

"Y/n-"

"Yes, Yusuf?" You used his name, batting your lashes at him. You know how to get to him.

Ya hayati. (My life)

He sighed, petting Bilal in his hands. "I'm going to put Bilal down for a nap."

"Yeah! Just put him with his siblings-" "No. I'm going to separate him and his brothers. They will not be giving babies to their sisters." Salauddin grumbled as you pouted and muttered about how cute new kittens are.

Maybe he can give you a litter of your own to keep you preoccupied. (Not because he likes you or anything- he just doesnt want you to fill his palace with more animals.)

Despite what Salauddin says, he still remembers each name of all your pets. All of them. He also talks to the cats, especially to Bilal about how he needs to behave for him mama and protect her and stuff.

#yandere salauddin #yandere baldwin #baldwin iv #king baldwin iv #the leper king #time traveller au #yandere x darling #male yandere x reader

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jaal-ama-daravv · 29 days ago

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dissecting act 3 & emmrichs final romance scene (mortal & lich)

dissecting the graveyard scene dissecting the mortal romance path scene dissecting the mortal emmrich argument scene (all routes) emmrich x rook cinematic (mortal)

lich version dissecting the alternate romance path dissecting the argument scene (lich path) dissecting the emmrich romance scene (lich) mortal vs lich romance path emmrich x rook cinematic

look this is half a thirst trap post im not gonna lie to ya

ACT 3 - OH MY GOD.

Now. We all know that dreaded argument scene that fills us with angst and really gets us in our feelings for the final 4 hours. which was 100% done on purpose, thanks bioware, you succeeded. i did in fact regret that conversation and cried immensely

We have the argument with Emmrich, then we have our mini resolution of Emmrich trying to apologise, and Rook responding with, "We'll talk back home Emmrich, I promise."

Fast forward an hour, and ive just about pulled the plug because emmrich gets trapped by Ghil, someone dies, and then we are sucked into the fade - trapped. FOR WEEKS.

I truly wish bioware included flashbacks, or rook being able to see the lighthouse whilst they were trapped so that we see our LI panic, and fret. Can you imagine Emmrich? The last conversation they had was a fight, and a fight that stemmed from love at that. regardless of the route you took, both rook and emmrich regret that argument deeply. I mean deeply. And most likely regret not saying, i love you in that moment. or any moment. god when emmrich got sucked up by ghil i was locked IN. nothing was stopping me.

Emmrich wouldn't of been able to sleep, he wouldn't of been eating, he would've been working day AND night like a dog on the dagger. he wouldve been irritable, he wouldve been incessant, he wouldn't of been put together, not clean shaven. id bet money on this.

despite bioware not giving us a good reconciliation scene or a glimpse at what happend during those weeks - BOY DID THEY FUCKING EAt with the pulling you out of the fade section. Oh my god. Emmrich's voice being timed right after Varric saying with "You have everything you need", AND THEN PULLING YOU OUT OF THE FADE WITH HIS ARM.

anyway - AFTER T H A T.

You have the romance scene (mortal dissection | lich dissection)

and then my god - i have no words - literally - just look

goodbye ovaries

The Final Goodbye (Mortal/Lich)

Now these are the exact same for both mortal and lich, ill tell you when its different below - to which this is dissapointing as I feel like the final romance scene is so 'meh'? it's very idk, scripted. I feel like there needs to be a dip in emmrichs voice when he says i love you to rook - maybe its just me, but regardless, its meh meh to me. the whole scene is just kinda -

I'll skip to the romance part anyway as there is nothing of substance in the first half

1. I love you, too.

I feel like - underwhelmed with this response. its just slapped on like a bumpersticker

2. I'm glad we met.

I cannot believe that this line of dialogue is hidden beneath the most basic of thought processes - i love it

its emotonal - its hopeful

YESSSS - PLAN WITH ME!!!! This is digustingly impactful if playing the mortal path. the man has hope for the future. oh I need not say more for its delivered so wonderfully.

HEHE

3. Be safe. I can't lose you.

I thoroughly enjoy this path, I feel so much emotion from Rook and Emmrich in these lines. the worry, the love. although it is kind of a shock to the system because we still went from. OH MY GOD DEATH, to oh yeah death with Emmrich.

exactly how the argument scene should've went, BUT, I get it, now if only we had a reconciliation scene in the middle or a conversation, i'd have no notes and be out of business

Now here is the divergence, of like two lines, that occurrs directly after the above dialogue

Lich Version

Mortal Version

its sweet, its sensual, its loving. but there no oomf. theres no, fear. the mortal version is my preference here as I like the slight reminder of emmrich being alive. in saying that, considering what we have been enamored with and reminded of at every single quest of his. but in the last romance dialogue its, gone? the fear overcome? one line, one word makes a difference. idk man. like I have my full speculation that there is a sequel with rook and companins again, and if there is ill let this go. but if this is it, WITH no epilogue screen? please, as much as i like fanfiction and headcanons and art. id like it IN the game.

a fantastic romance, but a stale last conversation. IN SAYING THAT. I choose to look past it as much as possible as it is sweet and I just love him.

ANYWAY, love you all, im pen for questions and the full emmrich dissection with all my very detailed explantions is coming in a few days

♥

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xerotiny · 9 months ago

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Antiserum D // Loving Professor Jeong #1

Antiserum D (Loving Professor Jeong series #1) Professor/College au.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x (f) Reader [ft. Choi San & Song Mingi]

Warning: smut, prof!yunho, dom!yunho, sub!reader, student!reader, age gap, teasing and suggestive actions, size kink, big dick Yunho, dirty talk and pet names (master and pup), blowjob/throat fucking, spanking, rough sex, unprotected sex, edging, creampie and dacryphilia.

Note: do not proceed if you're uncomfortable or triggered by the mentioned tags. Also note the age gap tag, here the reader is 21 and Yunho is 32, which makes it 11 years of gap.

Side Note: this series will contain 'hyung line' as the professors and the 'maknae line' as minor characters; except for Choi San and Song Mingi, these men are cheeky so look out for them. Again, as my other series, 'the reader' does have a name, i.e, Lee Sherri. Nicknames are bound to follow, so don't worry. I only write names in my oneshots because it's too annoying to write [y/n] everywhere and it ruins my flow of writing. Anyway, enjoy!

Gist: you had a rival in college, yes you did. It wasn't a student, rather the person you hold your grudges against is one of your professors. Now, you're in your senior year of bachelor's degree, running late for a morning class—knowing well he takes this class, what do you think the consequences would be?

Word Count: 12,164

'My dog died.'

No, you don't have a pet!

'My bus was late.'

You live on-campus.

'The coffee shop was crowded.'

You don't freaking have a cup in your hand!

'Umm, I overslept.'

Well, he doesn't need to know the truth.

He really doesn't need to know the truth to why you were running late to his morning class. As time would have it, you did oversleep; lethargic from last night's meaningless meandering from bar to bar, in search of your sober soul, you surely had forgotten about your morning class the next day. Weekends are supposed to be lax and diverting. They're your only shot at having a good time with your friends. You weren't going to let your fear of being reprimanded by your 'favourite' professor stop you from having the fun you deserved. The weekdays were long, tedious and dull with all the lectures and practical sessions to attend.

You're sprinting up the stairs to get to your department; the science building is supposedly long and encompasses all other departments falling into it. Your department (zoology), moreover, your class was situated on the second level of the building. Meeting with the long hallway on your way, which apparently was the physics department, you turn a corner and are merged with another long hallway leading to yours. The grotesque stench of formaldehyde hits your nose the moment you walk past the junior laboratories of your department; that's where they were trying to preserve biological specimens, the 'tingle-your-spine' kind. There are lecture halls and laboratories on one side of the long hallway, while the other side was an open space with concrete railings and pillars; this space opened into the botanical garden the botany department had been tending to, so it housed large trees, a decent number of shrubs and flowering plants, including a variety of cactus and other succulents.

Rushing in your steps, holding your tote bag close to you, your eyes scramble past the open space and the garden onto the walking street of your campus; it was borne with trees on both sides, and amidst the thicket of greenery you find the main building of psychology department. You almost heave out a laugh, reminiscing of the last night when your best friend (who studies psychology) was drunk out of his mind and had been making out with a lamppost. You pull yourself out of that daze, increasing the pace of your sprint to get to your laboratory.

First red flag of your day, the doors to your lab were open wide. Second, your supposedly 'favourite' professor was midway through an explanation about the experiment you were going to perform today. And third, you were technically thirty minutes late to the lab.

Quiet on your feet, you try to sneak inside; the structure of your lab was a little different, with sitting desks on one side of it, and workbenches on the other. In retrospect, this was your senior year's class where apparent lectures took place, and the workbenches were designated for less involved experiments. At the very front of your class/lab is a podium, a chalky black board, and a desk for professor. You glance at the front after realising all students had occupied the workbenches, you catch up on the glimpse of Professor Jeong carrying on with his explanation till his eyes meet yours.

"Miss Lee," he grumbles, amidst his explanation, "sneaking in—" mumbling he checks the time on his wristwatch, the sleeve of his coat riding up, "—a total of thirty minutes late. You better have a good reason."

He folds his arms over his chest, and stares down at you. While you halt midstep into the class, standing straighter you clear your throat and feel your mind stutter looking at him. Why did he have to dress so provocatively? And the outfit in concern was his beige coat and matching pants, a white long sleeved turtleneck underneath; you didn't quite like how your heart was palpitating watching him, keenly grazing your thirst-filled eyes across his face, noticing the shine on his black rimmed glasses and the plumpness of his pink lips.

"Miss Lee?" he repeats, only to get you squeaking, "yes, professor—uh yeah, I was late because my alarm did not go off in the morning..."

He hums in contemplation, eyes narrowing on you before he sighs and shakes his head, "occupy one of the workbenches and do not touch anything before I tell you to."

You nod, pressing your lips tighter to prevent any sound from escaping your throat; you were certainly anxious and embarrassed to be late, but more precisely you were humiliated in front of your class for coming up with such a lame excuse. Sighing, you stuff your tote bag in your locker at the back. You quickly slip on a lab coat over your outfit, bubbling with disappointment as it was hiding your nubile outfit. Knowing you were running late, you still made extreme efforts to dress yourself up—the reason was quite overt, because you wanted to dress up for yourself—you wore a white blouse under a pastel blue sweater vest and paired it with grey skirt which rode up till your mid-thighs. The lacy thigh-high socks were just an added accessory to make yourself seem cute considering you also had a blue ribbon in your hair, holding it in a high ponytail.

The only workbench unoccupied is the one situated at the very end and far from either the professor's desk at the back near the lockers and the podium from where Professor Jeong was reading every movement of yours. When you get to your designated place, you glance at the workstation to take note of the apparatus, before glancing next to you, finding the most obnoxious person you could. Choi San, Choi freaking San was offering you a guileful smile, one whose intentions did not appear to be right, or even ethical.

Bastard.

"So, Miss Lee is late because she couldn't hear her alarm go off? Pathetic," he rolls his eyes, folding his arms over his chest, his own lab coat creasing by the elbows with his plaid shirt peeking from beneath. "I don't believe you—oh well, but I wonder what your favourite professor would think about you when he knows you were getting pissed drunk last night with your friends."

You weigh his words in your mind for a second before furling back a reply. "Aww, Sannie. If you're so desperate to get in my inner circle, just say so. I didn't know you would be so jealous of us..."

San's smile turns into a curve of amusement, "jealous of you? Me? Jealous?" he scoffs, "darling, you're dreaming. If I wanted to be in your inner circle, I would've just slept my way through it."

"Really now?" you retort, smiling softly, "slept with whom?"

"An easy prey to seduce would be you—" he clicks his tongue, "—if you can be so impressed by that..." he nods his head toward Professor Jeong, "...then I believe you'd be swept off your feet if I genuinely try to."

"You put yourself on such a high pedestal, Sannie," you muse, shaking your head lightly, "do you really think my standards are set so low to be dazzled by you?"

"Oh, only time would tell, Miss Lee," he rolls his eyes, keeping his sly smile on. "Maybe, you would get infatuated with me or give into your temptations."

"Ahh, such a dedicated wishful thinker you are," you snide, heaving a low chuckle, "the only thing I'm tempted to do is throw a chair in your fucking face—"

"Miss Lee!" you flinch in your skin, body spasming to the deep and coarse voice of the professor. Hesitant in yourself, you peek up to face him, finding him glaring at you without a twitch on his face. "You certainly are not going to pay attention to my class, then why waste my time? You're free to leave. I don't hold my students captive; the ones passionate about learning find a way to attend my class in any way they could."

Your cheeks heat up, turning a shade of faint cherry red; embarrassment licks your spine and head lowers itself, you won't forget this moment ever. San is busy staring at you, feeling a little guilty but of course he won't let you know that. Shortly after, you glance back at the professor, noticing him staring at you with his lips in a scowl and his eyes piercing through you. That alone, that look alone was enough for you to quiver in your shoes; his persona had always been the intimidating kind, the kind who is self-possessed and doesn't really bother himself with the rest of the world.

Professor Jeong wasn't fazed by anything, not even by the number of female students crushing on him in your department, rather in your class alone. He didn't acknowledge their stupefyingly sexual or overly sensual approaches, turned them down if he thought they were invading his privacy. You took that as a challenge; maybe, maybe not. Your rivalry with him wasn't because he was unapproachable or a forbidden fruit to taste, it was because he always found a way to rattle your senses and make you the fool.

You remember it as clear as a day, at the beginning of your senior year, the very first semester—attending his class on genetics, you were simply taken off by him and his way of speaking. His personality was homely, strict where it should be, however. Amidst his lecture, he caught you talking and joking around with your bench-mate and questioned you about the topic he was teaching.

"If you can yap useless things, then why don't you enlighten me with the working of gel electrophoresis, hmmm...?"

It stung. But not more than him adding, "I'm even surprised you could answer. Maybe you should focus yourself more on your academics than other things."

Other things? You realised he was making comments on your appearance, the way you were dressed, the way you had streaks of gold stitched in your hair, the way you always had playful make up on—he judged you based on that, and thus the profound feud between him and you began. After that, you would intentionally skip his classes and not make an effort to attend them; even the practical sessions, except for the mandatory ones where you would bite your tongue and listen to him demeaning your entire existence for not setting the microscope right.

"Alright, now that I'm done explaining the principle and bits of the procedure, you may follow the same with your partners; if you're muddled with any concern then heed my name." He announces out loud, stepping down from the podium.

You raise your head, further listening to his footsteps dither across the floor to the back of where another table had been put up for teachers' comfort. Though, that's what you thought. The mellow sound of his boots takes an unassuming turn to your row of workbenches, taking you off guard. You're trying to find the meaning behind his detour. Also, you had been oblivious from the start that this practical is supposed to be performed in pairs. And you had no one. Because you were late. Even the slow-witted and stolid transfer student, Reagan Keith had a partner; and her partner was San himself, something you definitely did not see coming.

"Miss Lee," Professor Jeong clears his throat, standing next to you, "I suppose you do not have a partner because of your tardiness, and I happened to pair all my students prior to you, which leaves me no choice but to perform this particular experiment with you. So now, take a brief look at the blackboard and what I've etched on it, try to understand it. Once done, we can surely proceed."

You nod, contemplating, biting your cheek, unable to comprehend the proximity between you two. The dense musk of his scent is wafting all your senses—the redolent scent of vanilla and cinnamon is a deadly concoction to drive you wild. His warmth is superficial, yet the kind which melts your mind with stupefying possibilities, just how he could be—you need to keep your thoughts clean and chaste. Still, you suppress your mind to a corner and peek at the blackboard, studying his neat hand etched on it. The title gave you the rough idea of what you're supposed to do.

'Determination of blood groups.'

Ahh, the title itself foretells the coming inevitable mishap is going to involve blood and blood lancets; you aren't so fond of the needles—no, it wasn't a phobia, you weren't fond of pricking yourself with the help of those lancets. The blue rounded capsules which compassed a sterile needle underneath was beyond torturous to you.

You heave out a deep breath, understanding the further procedure he had inscribed on the blackboard. Familiar with few terms, such as the usage of antiserums, and principle behind the entire procedure, you were relieved. Way more than relieved to know this wasn't something out of your expertise. The nurturing thought of you actually explaining it to him however was too heavy to bear. You clear your throat, fumbling in your words as you dart your eyes anywhere else but at him.

"Yes, Miss Lee, are you done gandering at the procedure?" he gawks, bewildered as if and continues, "now, please enlighten me with the steps so as to we can proceed with the experiment."

"We—we are determining the blood—blood groups," you stutter, not knowing where that came from, you turn your attention onto him, stifling a gasp upon noticing him leaning close to you.

"Go on, Miss Lee," he prompts you with a soft nudge of his head. "I'm sure having to palaver about for the entire day, you could at least narrate the steps to me. All I need is your guidance."

He's playing you again.

"Alright, I will—" your breath hitches in your throat—you witness him effortlessly shrug his coat off, revealing nothing of his skin but the long-sleeved turtleneck he wore under.

"Hmhm, yes...?" he instigates, putting his coat off to a side while he rolls the sleeves of shirt over till his elbows. "What's the first step?"

"Sterilisation." you mutter under your breath.

"Sterilisation of what, Miss Lee?" he teases, keeping a straight; his pushes his glasses further up his nose, which had apparently slipped off a bit.

"Sterilisation of the subject area."

"Okay, tell me which area is most suitable for this test?"

You nod, swallowing thickly as your eyes never leave his. "The tip of the middle finger."

You weren't going to waver, not even when his soft brown eyes were speaking the unbearable at the moment; how can he do that? How can he momentarily torment you with a sly curve of his lips or by the detrimental facade of his eyes?

"And why is that?"

"Tendon sheath—uh, the middle finger has tendon sheath which only limits it to the fingers; as for the thumb and pinky finger, the sheath extends a little further to radial bursae and ulnar bursae—so in case any infection occurs it'll be restricted to the middle finger unlike the thumb or pinky which can lead to the heart." You try your best to explain, forgetting how to breathe in the process.

"You know your stuff," he murmurs, his voice low and cold, "do you see any sterilisation pads on your table?"

Looking around your desk, almost immediately, your eyes lurk on a beaker full of 70% ethanol and cotton swabs. You bring the beaker close to you and reach out for the forceps placed next to it; extending the beaker toward to him, you clear your throat, hoping he'd get on the cue.

"Miss Lee, I'd very much appreciate if you were to perform all the steps involving this practical."

"Right—okay, so..."

You drag your words into a whisper, holding the palm of his hand in yours, while other picks out a cotton swab with the forceps. The piece of cotton rolls to and fro on his skin, rubbing gently. Hearing him wince at the cooling sensation of ethanol against his skin, you stifle a chuckle and let out a sigh; once you were done with sterilising, you reach out for the blood lancets. Picking out one, you rip the cap off to reveal a sterling needle shining with a sharp point.

"Have you done this before, Miss Lee?" he questions as he watches you hesitate with the blood lancet. "Pricking yourself is quite different from pricking others, isn't it?"

You nod because you knew how different it was. In actuality, you're scared. You always were terrified to prick yourself with the needle whenever you were required to and it was mostly during your practical classes involving forensics. The high possibility of piercing your professor's skin, past the point till where it's necessary, was an untold fear you couldn't overcome. But, as you glance up at his docile face adorning an encouraging smile, in addition to the haughty glint in his eyes, you are much more prepared for the consequences.

"I am absolutely terrified when it comes to pricking myself—what if I..." your glance at his hand, then dart your eyes to his, feeling a breath hitch in your throat.

"You won't hurt me," he reassures you, later on compelling you with his words, "any day now, Miss Lee."

The racking nerve in your head forces you to take a deep breath and you're hauling the pointed tip of the lancet close to his finger. You know it takes one sudden nick to break the skin, and you also know you're supposed to be careful and swift with it. Hesitation breaks your conscience, you're still in two minds, still wondering if this was a good idea. Regardless of your abrupt cold feet, you let the lancet pierce through his skin, drawing out a ceaseless stream of blood; Professor Jeong is heedful of his bleeding finger and proceeds to make three blobs of blood on a microscope slide.

He puts the slide back, the glass clinks against the table but it melts into your thoughts—you were ogling him. You notice his veiny hand trembling softly to the unbridled tremors from the cut on his finger, it was attractive. You wouldn't mind admitting it, he has great hands—and sadly, you had a fetish. Trapping your lower lip between your teeth, you admire the little things about him; the proximity faltered to nothing, gave away how spotless his skin was, how sublimely luscious his lips were, and how the tiny specks of green in his eyes were far too evident in the sea of umber. Though, his hands were all you could think about; his porcelain skin, the bulging veins wrapped around his knuckles while they branched further down his hand—uff.

"Miss Lee?" he calls out, snapping his other finger, "please pass me a cotton swab, I need to clean myself."

You were brought back to the reality, seamless kind, a little vapid where you were impelled to keep a safe and healthy 'professor-student' relationship with him.

Hold up!

Where in the world did that come from?

The thought of having something more than 'professor-student' relationship with him.

You and him?

That's a little...

Far-fetched.

Unless...

There was...

There was a way to vex him.

You look back to all the times he's devalued your existence during his classes. The haughty remarks which rolled off his tongue with so much ease to belittle your short-lived efforts in any of his class, or perhaps, in any of the activities your department would plan. A spark in your mind strikes you in a way you couldn't quite explain, but you know you're finding yourself tighten your grip on his wrist. It's oddly satisfying, it's benign in your mind—though, the tiny bulb of tease was going on and off every second you spent staring at him.

There goes nothing.

Without hesitating you bring his hand close to your mouth, your tongue darts out the minute his bleeding finger finds its way in your sight, and you lick up a stripe to clean the blood off his finger. You hear him gasp, a sharp intake of breath which already told you he was bothered by your actions. Continuing to the rhythm of your heart, you wrap your lips around the tip of his finger and give it a soft suckle. Soon, a metallic copper taste slides on your tongue. Such an eerie sight to witness, by your professors and the others too. Especially the spawn of devil who was too busy charming the ditzy transfer student off her feet; if San catches you being this 'type' of friendly with the professor you 'slightly' resent then you probably could never show your face to anyone on the surface of earth. Luckily, San wasn't even sparing a glance at you.

"Miss—Miss Lee?" his voice breaks when he calls out to you again, prompting you to loosen your grip on his hand before you're letting it drop to his side.

"You were supposed to add antiserums to the slide, drop by drop. Now..." he takes a deep breath, noticing your glossy eyes and your plump lips parted; he's definitely resisting his urges. "The blood on the slide is almost..." He glances down at the table. "...it's almost dry. Miss Lee—" he leans in close to your ear, a coarse whisper sending a shiver down your spine, "—I'd like to see you after class."

"Maybe you can justify your actions then."

He leans back and takes a short gander around. Curling his lips up in a riveting smile, he nudges you with a nod. "Add the antiserums now, Miss Lee. All the others have finished performing the experiment."

You're out of your daze, rummaging your eyes around to find many of your classmates are done with their work and had gone to the other side of the lab, where the desks were.

"I'll be checking your practical sheets before you leave, so make sure you complete them all now." he announces out loud in the class, earning muffled groans from his students. "And no excuses."

"You too, Miss Lee," he turns to you, "now, if you will, you have to tell me my blood group. So, go on."

Again, pulling yourself out of the stupor, you nod profusely and proceed to the next step before the blood on your slide is completely dry. You add a drop of each antiserum on the three droplets of blood; waiting for a second, you watch the drop with antisera D and antisera A added begin to clot. To your conclusion, Professor Jeong's blood group is A+ve. All while you did the experiment, his eyes were fixed on you, fixated on your quivering hands and lips every time you tried to do something. In some instances of his mind, he was admiring you and your dedication, and how badly he had rocked your boat into capsizing.

"Good," he muses, his words turning bitter soon, "you sure can do a few things right. Well, all that's left to do is—" he grunts softly as he pulls the sleeves of his shirt back down, while he shrugs on his coat, "—cleaning and writing. Chop chop, Miss Lee. And do not forget you have to wait after class."

With those spine-chilling words he leaves you stranded to your spot; unfortunately, this time San had overheard your conversation. He slides next to you, eyeing your workstation before glancing over at you.

His lips push themselves out into a pout, and he grumbles, "fucked up something?"

"None of your business," you grit your teeth, "get away before I chop your balls off."

"Oh, I'm shivering," he deadpans, nudging his elbow with your ribs, "come on, Lee. Tell me. What did you do for him to ask you to wait after class? We both know he's never done it—in fact he hates it when someone waits after class to 'talk' to him." he emphasises with finger quotes, rolling his eyes at you. "You fucked up big time then."

You heave out a long sigh, "I—just, shut up, San. You're the most annoying person in my life."

Grumbling, you glance at Professor Jeong, he was sitting on his desk at the back of the class, by the lockers. His stare was on you. It was on you from the moment he sat down. And even though you may not know what he was thinking, or wondering about, the glimpse of him having his teeth scratching on his lower lip was enough to let you know what exactly he intended on doing with you.

"Don't drag it out on me," he mumbles, his pout still intact on his face, "although, you're denying the truth, which means you two had an anomalous interaction..."

As he trails off, you roll your eyes at him. Finding the courage to break your eye contact with Professor Jeong, you glare at San and bite your lip. "Yeah, he made me wait after class. It's pertaining to me being late. Now off you go, make yourself useful elsewhere. Maybe, help Reagan find the remaining of her skirt, pretty sure she left it back at her dorms."

San muses for a second before leaning over to stare at the said girl's skirt; she was standing by the lockers chattering with someone. His face twitches smugly, his brows creasing as he checks her out.

"Oh, no no! That does seem more important than dealing with you, Lee." he smirks, biting his lower lip, "see you around, try not to get too infatuated with your favourite professor."

Sauntering away from you, he loses his lab coat and then engages himself with Reagan. You project your frustrations into a sigh and begin cleaning your workbench before heading to the lockers to retrieve your bag and other items. Walking past the professor was a challenge in itself because you were too fazed in your mind by everything he did. Though, you could really say you were fuddled over his decision to make you wait after class. Anyone could tell you exactly how much he despised his students waiting after class, 'cause most of the times it would be the absurd number of female students trying to confess their feelings for him. You could sympathise with him, understand where he was coming from because you would find yourself in a similar situation; you were well sought to in your department, endless confessions, profuse gestures of affection, what not.

Regardless, you realised what you wanted in a man. It was the professor himself.

"Miss Lee, I need your practical journal completed." he speaks up as you're walking past his desk with your tote bag on your shoulder and your lab coat neatly folded in your hands. "You know what, I'll go through it after class. Till then, get your write-ups done."

Offering you a redolent smile, he tears his eyes off you. You swallow thickly, knowing well how ineptly stuck you were with him, after class too. And one more fact, your practical journal was incomplete—blank at the most, which was a catastrophe in the waiting. As the fear creeps up your spine, you bite your cheek and stumble onto an empty desk, settling yourself down to catch a breath.

Time passes in a haste, without bounds, and soon the moment you dreaded arrives with a tinkering bell on it. The class is empty, except for you and Professor Jeong. You could listen to him breathe, placidly whistle out a grumble a few times since he was busy with something you didn't feel the need to pay attention to. The clock on the wall ticks again and you're gathering your stuff before 'sneaking' out of the class. If his attention is solely saturated over something useless to you, then he probably won't even notice you gone.

At least that's what you thought.

"Miss Lee, I must remind you of our little parley where I asked you to wait after class." He doesn't even peek from the file he was reading, and continues, "don't think I can't see you sneaking away."

You stop in your steps, right in front of the open door with a few students lurking behind in the corridor. Stifling a groan, you roll your eyes and turn around on your feet. The man is sat poised in his chair, his lips curved in a smirk as he's staring right through you. Your heart skips a beat, yes too cliche, but you felt its arrhythmic vibrations ring your ears.

"Are there any students loitering in the corridor?" he questions and you nod to it, pressing your lips together. "Wait for them to leave and then lock the doors."

Why?

Lock the doors?

Why lock the doors?

Now your heart was pounding in that bony little cage of yours. Sooner or later, you would find it either in your throat or your guts that is if he continues to stare at you with the intensity of sun. Quite lost in the trance of his melancholic yet concupiscent eyes, you start nibbling on your lower lip, wanting to squeeze your thighs together to rid yourself of the tension you felt in your cunt. The chatters start dithering outside, ascending to the wind of nothing and it brings peace to your mind; not that it wasn't peaceful before, but now, it's just you and him caught in a void of infatuation.

"Do not take my intentions in the wrong way, Miss Lee. I am not so fond of disturbances during one-on-one student session..." he explains, going back to reading his file. Though, after a while he clears his throat and prompts you, "any moment now, Miss Lee."

"Yea—yeah," you stutter, sensing your throat close up.

Taking a step forward you close the latches on the door. The exhilaration of you being alone with him is sort of distorted in your head when you make your way towards his desk. What does he have in his mind? What does he want from you? Is this one of his many ways to make you feel small and little? Like all the times he does when you're attending his classes or so.

The look in his eyes has a spark of joy, just humming across the field of brown containing his pep. Those same eyes follow you around, till you're in front of him; his face shows no emotion, except for that straight line of his lips.

"Would you need an invitation, Miss Lee? Your binder, please." he asks, peeking up at through his long lashes and the black rimmed glasses. The glare on them makes it hard for you to read his eyes this time.

You clear your throat, and fumble with your bag to take the thick binder out. Pages furled out of it, a few flying off to fall on the ground, while a few remained stuck in amidst the others; you could tell Professor Jeong wasn't too happy with the condition of your binder. To be fair, this binder was your repository for all performed experiments so far. Nonetheless, your binder was...incomplete. Biting your lip, you place your binder on the table in front of him.

He eyes it for a moment before grabbing it in his hands and flipping the pages. You couldn't resist holding him on a high regard; his sleek fingers pinching the edges of the pages, turning them, eyes rummaging along the lines, and his parted lips which could tell he was contemplating.

"I certainly did not expect this from you, Miss Lee." he clicks his tongue, "now that I see it for myself, I can't help but agree with my initial remark about you. I would suggest you focus more on your academics rather than wasting your time with your friends and ambling through your life."

He sighs in defeat, mostly disappointment and slides your binder towards you across the table. Pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he takes a deep breath and turns his head to you, his face expressing nothing at all.

"Life's not all about strolling through one club then to another. And while you do that, I can't sit back and watch you ruin your potential, Miss Lee," he sucks his teeth, as he continues to berate you with his words, "you're in the running for most proficient student in our department, alongside Mr. Choi. Now, would you be delighted to bear a consequence where he holds the trophy and not you? All because of what...? Some fiddling people you call your friends whose only job is to drag you out to buzzing clubs and what not."

Listening to him hound your existence, your heart suddenly weighs down in your chest, it grows heavy till it touches your gut. Oh no, you were letting it affect your state of mind. On the verge of tears, you look away from him and fixate your blurry vision on the floor; it was overbearing to hold his eyes, to wallow in the disappointment he held in them. Moreover, you didn't want him to see you cry, or shed a tear for that matter because you know you were close. Very close.

You sniffle softly, lowering your head furthermore to avoid to his gaze.

"Miss Lee?"

Silence.

You don't care for the concern his voice shows and continue to toil yourself on the contrasting hue of morning sun and the grey tiles. Blurry vision captures the indefinite shadows of lockers, some bookshelves—the sun was crawling overhead, witnessing your derision with your professor. You don't try to pay him any mind, not that you could even if you wanted to. There's a possible reason to why you don't want to, maybe the answer lies in your uncertain infatuation with him, or maybe it does prove your outlandish feelings for him. Which one of it was genuine?

A small moment passes between you two, roiling in tranquil haze before he clicks his tongue and drawls on a breath. "And to speak on your furtive behaviour—"

"Why do you hate me?"

A beat of serenity yanks his attention.

"What do you mean, Miss Lee?"

"I asked, why do you hate me so much?"

You glance up at him, preparing your unfazed mind for his reaction to your reddened cheeks and nose, and the obvious streaks of tears down your cheeks. The muscles on his face twitch even if it was indiscernible to the moment, you study him; he reveals a speck of pity in his eyes, so pathetic for you to think he'd pity you.

"Sherri?"

His lips quiver so delicately, calling out your name in a sleek yet coarse voice. It was the first time he'd ever called out your name, enunciated each syllable in his utmost trepidation as if he really cared for you. That alone was enough to cause a havoc in your heart, dwindling it further down to your...maybe it was the way he spoke your name out, but you were definitely feeling a spark strike in your pussy.

"I do not despise you, Sherri," he softly murmurs, looking away from you for a long minute before trailing his pitiful eyes back on you. "If my actions have made you—"

"—you always belittle me, humiliate me in front of the class and pretend to act as if you do it all because you care." you ramble, "you don't care about my feelings! All you can think is how to make me fall from my grace. Isn't it?"

You shake your head and bring your hands up to wipe your tears off, which had uncontrollably gushed out of your eyes while you had your meltdown. Your tote bag falls onto the floor with a soft thud, and you pay no mind to it. The hyperventilation soon kicks in, suffocating your lungs with a want to break free from your chest, and your stomach littered with unwanted butterflies fluttering along. More tears slide out of your eyes, and you lose your capability to see clearer.

The dainty streaks of torment on your cheeks, your tears, and your flushed face was a huge turn on for him; he could not probably free himself from his fetish, but his philia for tears or anything remotely close to it, always excited his cock. He shifts in his seat, spreading his legs apart under the desk to free himself from the strain in his pants. Oh how badly he had been aroused, by just watching you cry.

"Sherri, you're mistaking my concern for bullying; fuck! Why would I want to torment or humiliate you in front of the class?" he questions, such dainty voice breaking your heart and making you feel pathetic to sob in front of him.

"Come here."

He lures you in with his soft voice, and a frail tug of his lips; his smile had already proved to be devastating to you and even the slightest of it can make you, his puppet. Without realising it, you're taking short strides around the table to be by his side. He has his hand extended in front of you, something you didn't quite understand until you hold it in hesitation, and he pulls you down on his lap.

You gasp, and then yelp when you land on his lap; at first you find yourself uncomfortable in his embrace but giving it a little time, you relax and settle down, still with a bit of unease. His arms wrap themselves around your waist and he leans close to rest his chin on your shoulder as you sit sideways on his lap. Ambiguous swirls of darkness cover his eyes, and your breath hitches trying to unravel his true intentions. Instead, you were starting to get comfortable with him.

"I do not resent you for who you are, Sherri," he begins with a whispery breath, rubbing your back as he does. "I resent myself for being so helplessly bound under your spell."

Your lips part open, your chest heaves up and down erratically to constrain your wildly pounding heart. Oh, you were gone, you most definitely were.

"Projecting my bitter disposition on you was a mechanism I sought to cope my untamed desire—the ugly desire to taste this forbidden fruit." Mumbling, he turns his head and traces his lips along your neck, kissing and sucking. "Holy fuck, this body of yours...those lips, you don't know how much I crave them."

His hands tighten around your waist, and you gasp for air, "Professor Jeong, this isn't ethical. You're violating the university policy...ah!"

He bites down on your neck, grabbing enough flesh in between his teeth to suck on it. That's going to leave a pretty purple bruise behind, all in its glory, on your neck—so fucking attractive to you. Pressing down on a moan, you drag your hands to his shoulders, hoping to shove him off to disturb his grip on you. Though you thought. It wasn't easy to make him budge, he wasn't letting you go, and you were gradually falling into that realisation.

"I could lose my job," he whispers, chuckling softly, "I can fucking lose my job if I engage with you, if I make my vile thoughts a reality but I can't control myself any longer, I need you, I need to ruin you—I know you feel the same way about me. Don't you, Sherri?" he nibbles on your earlobe, his hot breath fanning your ear. "Aren't your intentions the same as me, huh?"

"No." you mumble.

"No?"

You shake your head.

He doesn't believe you.

"Sherri, oh you beautiful liar," he sighs, his lips now curling into a smirk, "didn't you think of something else when you were sucking my finger off, hmm?"

You pout, not wanting to answer or have him the satisfaction of being right; instead, you start shuffling on his lap to get out of his hold. Squirming in his lap, you press your butt against his crotch, accidentally touching his hardened cock. It continues to poke your ass, and his fingers dig into your skin when his hold tightens on your waist. You were making it worse, it was visible on his face in the form of quivering lips and shut eyes.

"Don't move...!" he warns you, pressing your lower body against his lap, keeping you fixed in one place. "You'll make me...fuck. You do this on purpose, don't you?"

You stop moving—well you had no choice but to when his brute strength was holding you down against him. "I don't. I haven't done anything on purpose."

Lying is so easy. But him believing it has to be easy too. Though at this point you knew you were teasing him.

"Sherri, don't lie." He peels his eyes open and takes a sharp breath in, "get on your knees."

You gulp. Knees? He wants you on your knees...? That's...really fucking hot.

Eagerly, you crawl out of his lap as he gives you the chance to, keeping his hands to his side. He repositions his chair in a way to face you, as you're kneeling down in front of him, by the side of the table. There's not much distance between you, and the dithered proximity makes your heart palpitate with anticipation.

What was he going to do?

Your mind raced with the possibilities. Was he going to shove his 'obvious' boner down your throat? Was he going to make you ride him? What was his hauntingly beautiful mind thinking about?

"An obedient teacher's pet, how adorable," he coos, stroking his hand over your head as if to pet you.

"Professor..."

"Shush...!" he leans over, closely watching you with his fervent eyes. Out of nowhere the warmth of his thumb engulfs of your cheek. "Not a sound."

Brushing his thumb across, he collects a drop of your tear and brings it close to his mouth. He wraps his lips around his thumb and gives it a good suck; his eyes intently fixed on yours, delineating his intentions. You nod your head and watch him straighten his back to relax against the chair. His eyes glance over at the door for a minor second before he fixes them back on you; with a lilting smirk, he grabs the wooden pointer stick from his table and slaps its tip on the palm of his other hand. The same hand rubs along the length of it until his forefinger traces the tip before holding it in his one hand.

You couldn't help but gulp again, feeling aroused by his hand, and the way it was pumping the stick to and fro. Lowering yourself on your calves, you try to squeeze your thighs together. You wanted to ease your muscles, wanted to rid yourself of the tightness in your cunt because you were beyond wet for him.

"Hands behind your back," he commands, and you oblige without hesitation. "I asked you to be on your knees for me..." he softly mutters, tapping the stick twice on the floor to get you back on your knees.

You do that too; completely unaware of his next move. He drags the stick from the ground to you, to the hem of your skirt and lifts it up—exposing your ruined panties to him.

"Tsk, wet already?" he heaves out a breath, "do I really affect you that much?"

"Yes," you swallow and mumble, "you do."

"Hmm," he muses, humming his words along later, "that makes me want you even more."

With his other hand he takes his glasses off and flings them on the table. He pushes the stick further up till your waist to completely expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt; he licks his lips at the sight, his instincts running wild in his mind. Your hands were perfectly slotted in the small of your back, tightly wound together to appease the tension.

"Ah..fuck," you groan when you feel the wooden stick rub your cunt; he had angled it in such a way that it kept your skirt from falling down and it also gave him enough access to drag it along your slit. "Please, professor, I want you."

Listening to you mewl, his smirk widens, and he slurs his words, "now you want me, Miss Lee? Un-fucking-believable."

He picks up his pace, letting the stick rub itself perfectly against your slit; your cunt clenches around nothing, aching to have something in between, something to fill you up. You writhe in desperation, shifting your weight from one leg to another. Unable to contain yourself, you start grinding yourself against the stick, upon noticing it, he halts his movements and watches you with amusement. Casing his lips into a pout, he traces his forefinger on his lower lip; he's contemplating, mirthfully watching you pleasure yourself on the stick. You bring both of your hands to the front, holding the stick to stabilise it before you increase the pace of hips grinding down.

"Aww, is my little brat getting excited?" he scoffs, shaking his head lightly.

You press your lips together and nod your head, closing your eyes shut to the budding pleasure crawling up your body. Second by second, your sanity shrinks to nothing, making you loosen your grip on the stick. From the corner of your half-lidded eye, you watch him offer you a conceited smile, clearing his intentions out when he pulls the stick from between your legs and slides it up to your chin. Tapping its tip twice to your chin, he gets your attention on him with your eyes wide in anticipation.

He spreads his legs wider in front of you, putting his cock on a glorious display as it tightens in his pants; the outline of his cock figuratively makes you swallow a thick gulp of air. Keeping your head high with the stick, he uses his other hand to palm his crotch, gently wrapping his fingers around his cock to give it a few half-hearted pumps through his pants. With a nudge of his head, he drops the stick to a side and gestures you to come close. Biting your tongue, you crawl towards him, your heart in your throat now. Maybe it was the anticipation, the eagerness to see him bare and under the griming influence of your pleasure, but you were slightly alarmed to find yourself slotted in between his legs.

"Let's get my brat what she wants," he whispers further shifting comfortably in his hair. "Such hungry eyes gawking at the sight of my cock," he grabs your jaw lightly and strokes his thumb under your chin. He tuts, "I get these looks a lot but there's something about you— something about the way you're drooling over my cock."

You let your teeth sink deep in your lower lip, while your lips twitch into a soft smile of amusement. "Am I turning you on, professor?"

You release your lip from your teeth's grip, and he watches it wobble in a daze while you lean close and place your hands on either of his thighs. Rubbing circles with your fingertips on his thighs, you take a deep breath to calm your nerves.

"If that wasn't the case you wouldn't be here, Miss Lee. Kneeling between my legs, ready to take my cock in your mouth, hmm?" he suggestively murmurs, dragging his thumb to your lips till he forces it in your mouth. "Now, open wide."

Using his other hand, he fumbles with the buckle of his belt. While he does manage to get it undone, you decide to suck on his thumb which was still fixed in your mouth; you lick around, blatantly ignoring his rugged skin. You hear him grunt ever so gently to your mouth wrapped around his thumb, tingling with excitement to know what it would be like to have this same warmth around his cock. Everything passes in a haze when he restlessly tugs down on his pants and briefs at the same time; you notice him take his thumb out of his mouth and instead he replaces it with his cock.

The reddened tip of his cock nudges against your lips and you open wide, lowering yourself down on his cock—though, only halfway considering his length would take you long to adjust to while the thick girth already made the corners of your mouth sting. He holds your neck, his fingers delicately splayed on the nape as he pushes you down, however he's mindful of you and how much you can take in. You start stroking the remaining of his shaft—which you would eventually have to swallow deep in your mouth.

"Fuck, you're driving me insane with your mouth, I might..." he trails his words off into a low groan, beginning to thrust himself into your mouth. "I'm not going to last long, am I?"

He taunts, digging his fingers into your skin as he pushes your head further down on his cock; his thrusts become too sloppy, and you don't pay much mind to it. You are too focused on widening your mouth around his cock to fit him fully inside. Feeling the tip of his cock brush against your throat, you almost gag; your throat tightens, and the suffocation starts sneaking up on you, but you push yourself through and sink lower on his cock.

"Fuck, such a good brat, taking me in so well," he whimpers coarsely, "but this little brat needs to be punished for making me break my rules."

You gaze up at him with your teary eyes, softening them as he looks down at you too. Nodding your head, you hollow your cheeks and bop your head up and down after adjusting to his size. Your fingers dig into his fleshy thighs, constraining your moans with his cock stuffed in your mouth, you keep staring up at him till a few drops of tears cascade down your cheeks. He brings his other hand to caress your cheeks, thumb stroking off the tears as he doesn't let go of your head. You're on the verge of gagging on his cock, choking even, but disregarding your gag reflex, he bucks his hips into your face and his cock slides further down your throat. Unable to hold onto your moans and whimpers, you try to make a sound—the vibrations send him reeling from pleasure, he throws his head back and tightens his hold on your neck.

"Can't make a sound because my cock is—your mouth is stuffed with my cock, isn't it?" he teases, closing his eyes shut to relish the wetness and warmth of your mouth. "Don't worry—I won't—I won't cum too soon. My brat deserves a little—a little bit of fun even if she's being pun—punished."

His stutter was absolutely beautiful, it showed how much of a mess he was with your mouth wrapped around his cock, engulfed in the devious warmth of it. Somehow, it gave you a sense of victory, a sense of peace to know you had gotten him on his edge with only your mouth and nothing else. The saltiness of his precum floods your mouth—it makes you retch a bit regardless of that, you continue sucking him off while his thrusts are slow and steady. In the meantime, he pulls his untucked shirt above till his chest and holds it there; he pushes your head further down on his cock, till your nose is pressed against his pubic bone and your skin feels ticklish from his trimmed pubic hair.

His chest is rising and falling at an alarming rate; he surely was a mess, and you liked seeing it. When you peek up at him with your still-teary eyes, you notice sweat covering his forehead, making his hair stick to his skin while his cheeks are flushed with a shade of red. How adorable. How fucking adorable. The ever so haughty and stoic professor was writhing under your touches, with how you lapped your tongue under his shaft and purposely sucked your cheeks in to make it tight.

In actuality, you were really driving him wild; his grip on your neck loosens a bit for a hot second and he uses that time to let his hand entangle in your hair. You didn't realise when you groped his thighs for support, even so, your nails had dug deep enough to leave behind crescent marks on his skin, the kind which would fluster with a brutal purple tint tomorrow. Grasping a proper hold on your hair, he pulls you back and frees his cock from his mouth; a vile 'pop' sound resounds in the room while he does so.

The moment his cock is out of your mouth, you gasp for air, you swallow huge lugs of air through your mouth and glance at him with dazed eyes. His thick and veiny cock was slick with your spit, shining softly under the lights while a few strings of your saliva still connected your lips and his shaft. Your drool had covered every inch of his cock and had also slithered down your chin. The sensation in your mouth was a little sticky and salty from his precum. You keep your mouth wide open and wipe off the drool using the back of your hand; he smugly chuckles, eyes on you like a predator.

"Need to take a break?" he taunts you, belittling your presence and you shake your head to a no. Leaning over, he cups your face in both of his hands and grazes his eyes along your chest and exposed thighs.

"Get up."

Again, his domineering voice forces you to oblige, and you get on your wobbly feet—feeling your throat sore and tight from his cock hitting constantly, you swallow enough amount of spit and try to wash the sting down. He notices it but doesn't say much. His hands slide down from your face and hold your waist as you stand in front him; without any doubt, he pushes your front against the desk and makes you bend over. One hand on the collar of your blouse, and other on the small of your back; he keeps you in that position while he takes his time to shimmy his pants and briefs down till his knees. He positions himself behind you, managing to push your skirt up on your back to expose your dripping wet panties and your cunt. Your wet panties were driving him wild; his breathing becomes even more ragged when he snaps at the waistband and pulls them down to your knees. He swallows thickly when his thirsty eyes lurk over your glistening wet cunt, clenching around nothing for the time being.

"This wet cunt is going to take in every inch of me...fuck," he curses his under his breath while he smoothens his hand on one of your buttcheeks. "But we can't forget about your punishment, can we?"

He flattens his palm against your ass, keeping you pressed against the desk with his hand on your neck; you whimper in anticipation and hold onto the edge of the desk till your knuckles turn while. Anticipation makes you wiggle your ass slightly, as you're on your tippy toes and perfectly bent over the desk.

"No, we can't," you heave out a shaky sigh, not able to control your excitement anymore. "How are you going to punish me, professor?"

You sneer in your seductive voice, slurring your words against your rounded lips to get a reaction out of him. Having your vision limited to the empty classroom and the workbenches, the exhilaration of not knowing what he was going to do, makes you even wetter.

Yunho knows how vile your mind is, he knows the wet patch on your panties continues to grow the more he teases you and honestly, he wasn't complaining. He liked it as much as you did, but he hid it well in his composed speech and relaxed movements.

"There's only one way to punish a brat like you," he grunts, slapping one of your buttcheeks, "count them."

So, you were getting spanked. Such a fitting punishment for a brat like you, by a professor too—why did it feel like you were trapped in a low-budget student-professor porn movie? You can't complain anyway, you were absolutely absorbed in the trance of your pleasure and his hands caressing your butt.

You nod and thus begins the punishment.

Slap!

"One," you mewl, feeling his hand burn on your skin.

Slap!

"Two," your breath hitches when you go to say it out loud, your skin stinging from his hand.

Slap!

"Thr—three!" you groan out loudly, the impact jolting your body against the top of the desk.

This one stung like a bitch.

Slap!

Without any warning, he adds one more spank to the same buttcheek before moving onto the other. He offers it a soft squeeze first, and then pulls his hand back and flattens his palm over it.

Slap!

"How many were those, huh?" he asks your mind fiddles with the remaining brain cells—how many were those? Really. How many?

"Si—six," you somehow manage to sputter, your spit falling on the desk in front of you.

"Good girl," he praises, rubbing his hand on your buttcheek before tracing it down to your folds. His fingers press and nudge against your folds until he rams one finger along your slit. Pushing down, wedging his finger deep inside, he watches your juices coat the length of his finger before he brings it to his nose to give it a good sniff. "I wonder if you're enjoying this punishment, pup. Are you? Are you enjoying this punishment...?"

First, your mind goes haywire when he teases you with that nickname. Pup. Well, you were turning out to be his pet, you might as well roll along with it.

Second, you were certainly enjoying the punishment, liking the way his hands were able to engulf your entire buttcheek at once.

Third, you're forced to slip out of your sanity when he aligns his cock with your hole and slowly sinks in. Your aroused juices proved helpful for him to slip right in. You suddenly start feeling full, the stretch of your walls subsiding into a soothing ache and then it sublimes completely into pleasure. Your desires were getting quenched; inch by inch your cunt swallows him whole, the burn on your walls now pacified by him. He doesn't move when he bottoms out, he keeps his cock sucked deep in you. Keeping one hand on the small of his back, he pushes your nimble body further against the desk—your back arches inwards and prodding your ass out for his easy access.

"Fuck, such a tight cunt. Got no one to loosen it out, Miss Lee?" he smirks, grunting at the way your walls clenched around him and remains unmoving. "Don't worry, I'll fuck it loose—fuck," you tighten around him listening to his wispy words, "do you want me to, huh, pup? Do you want me to fuck you loose?"

"Yeah—yeah, yeah I'd like that," you murmur, your brain turned into a mush and your body shuddering as he slowly, very slowly, starts moving. He doesn't pull out completely, he keeps his cock buried deep in you and slides in and out at a leisure pace.

"Of course, my pup would like to get fucked senseless," he mumbles, slapping one of your buttcheeks again.

You were fully sure his hand was now printed on your skin in a bright red shade; the soreness didn't matter because the thrill was eating you up and turning it into bliss. Biting back a moan, you keep your breathing steady. Though, you feel your chest shatter entirely when he picks up his pace. Your fingernails start scratching at the varnish on the table, a bit of it getting stuck in them.

"Yes, prof—professor..." you groan, stuttering with his thrusts.

"Nuh-huh, for an obedient puppy like you, I'm your master," he slides his cock out, and rams back into you, letting it plunge deep, "what should you—should you call me, pup?"

"Master," you breathe out, exasperated. "Master, please go faster, fuck! Fuck me harder please, breed your little pup." You cry, genuinely letting tears streak down your cheeks; you were weak already, holding out till he would increase the rhythm of his merciless thrusts.

Something goes off in his head, his hips start snapping at an animalistic pace with your body thrashing against the wooden desk; his hands are all over you, touching you, caressing you, leaving his marks on you. Though, at a point he brings one of his hands to the curve of your back, while his other hand winds itself around your thigh. Seeming seconds drag on with his thrusts curt and sharp, his cock reaching deep in your cunt till you could feel it tauten in the pit of your stomach. Yunho could sense your walls clench around his cock, not liking it one bit—his thrusts start faltering, gradually coming to a halt.

Still buried deep in you, he leans over your back—inching close to your neck, he bites down harshly before whispering, "does my pup want to cum?"

You could discern the slyness in his voice, and you nod your head with your mouth agape, drool glistening down your lower lip and staining your chin. Bearing his size, tuning with his blunt thrusts, and the way his tip was abusing your sweet spot, it was all too much, sending you into a sensory overdrive. At this point, you had zero comprehensible thoughts in your mind except for the heinous acts you were weaving into your body: all of them being about your professor and his huge dick.

"Well, then my pup has to wait a little longer," he grunts close to your ear and then straightens himself up, "master isn't done with his pup yet."

"Can my pup wait a little longer?" he presses his hand down on your back, reluctantly making your walls clench around him.

You're left with no choice but to nod your head again, and it satisfies him; his gradually starts moving again, keeping his thrusts steady and slow. He lets you adjust to him again, and eventually increases his pace. Pulling and shoving himself into you, he starts bucking his hips into your thighs, his grip tightening till his knuckles turn white while you hold onto the edge of the table like your life depended on it. Your body oscillates to and fro, colliding and thumping with the wooden table with his every thrust. The sound of clothes crumpling, and the rattling of his belt buckle, makes your heart race harder in your chest.

You had never imagined you'd be caught in this situation; not that you didn't imagine or fantasise it, you didn't think it'd become a reality. Yeah, it's true that you had countless fantasises about your professor, one of them being fucked while you're bent over his desk—but the probability of him actually fucking you was one in a twenty, considering there were twenty female students in your class. Skin slapping against skin, his cock thrashing balls deep in your tight cunt, you were still mewling in your mind for more. The sensation was diabolical in a way, clustering your brain with unwanted thoughts—hell, you had lost it.

A known tightness tangles itself in your gut, your stomach cherishing the last bit of butterflies it felt before knowing you would flood down on his cock soon. Your senses drop, your stomach twists and knots, your heart runs a miles per hour because his thrusts were helping you chase your high. You were so sure he was going to let you take a break, let you ease out the tightness in your stomach; but to your unbridled surprise, he doesn't. His movements dither, slowing down till he comes to a stop again; he's still buried deep in you, and somehow that caused you more pain than his actual thrusts.

"Aww, my pup is too eager to get off," he mumbles, throwing his head back in pure bliss from your walls still clenched around him, but then he feels you loosen, and he starts pounding into you with a gentle tempo. "Not so soon. You're still getting punished."

He drags on for an hour or so, his thrusts stopping completely sometimes, his cock buried deep in your warmth—eventually he would pick up his pace and ram into your tight little cunt as if it was the last thing he wanted. You had been denied your orgasm a few times, counting it, you had been denied three times so far. Though that pleasure was turning into pain, your belly ached with every inch of strain his cock put on your cunt. Your stomach knots itself for the fourth time, your legs trembling and your yearning crossing your threshold to hold your orgasm in.

The familiarity only grows in your gut, your walls puckering around his cock to milk out his own orgasm; but he knows how to play it off well, he wasn't going to cum before you did. Pressing back into your thighs, he remains unmoving for a second before picking up his pace again, his cock plunges into the deeper void of your cunt, almost protruding the walls to your gut. You have lost your voice to make a sound, one thing—but the other thing was you weren't supposed to make a lot of noise. Swallowing your moans and grunts, you feel your high washing over; your walls tighten around his cock one last time before they're coming undone—releasing you juices all over his cock. Some of it squirts around as his cock still keeps plunging deep into you, a few drops stain his abdomen and get absorbed in his clothes, but he doesn't seem too bothered by it.

"My pup made a mess on my cock," he grumbles, closing his eyes shut as he helps you ease your cunt with a few of his concise and brief thrust. His thighs collide with yours, heat growing between your bodies and your skin slick from sweat and your orgasm. "Such a pretty pup, such a beautiful little baby..." he rambles on his own, incoherent and inaudible, but mostly it was him losing his mind over the trickling warmth of your arousal.

His thrusts become sloppy once he knows he's reaching his high; but he doesn't give out just yet. With a couple more longing and concise thrusts, he lets himself drive his cock deep into your warmth—he counts down the minutes with his ambling pokes till it becomes unbearable for him to hold out. Taking a deep breath and arching his back to let his cock plunge deep, he slides one of his hands on your lower back—pressing, pushing, digging his fingers and palm in your flesh, he releases himself in deep in you. With every thrust, he keeps pulling out till he completely slides out of you. He smirks at the sight his eyes behold, twinkling with a yearning no one knows, not even you; his load dribbles down your pussy, staining your skin in stark white shade, as some of it spurts on your inner thighs.

You're breathless, too fucked to understand anything and thus you couldn't register your surroundings quite well when he flips you over. Grabbing your shoulders, he pushes you down on the ground, having you kneel before him with his cock near your mouth. The veins on his cock were less bulged than before, but his shaft was coated in a thin layer of his cum and glints a bit with your juices.

"Clean me up, pup."

His order doesn't go unheard by you, and as the loyal little puppy you are to him, you hold on to the sides of his thighs and lean in to lick his cock off. At first, it's a weird concoction of saltiness and a little bit of sweetness, soon it fades to nothing. You lap your tongue around his shaft, over and under his tip till you've cleared everything off from his cock—you pull back, smiling dizzily because you were delighted to help him out. Half-lidded eyes trace a line up and you find him staring at down at you, his hand in the process to grab your jaw. Caressing your chin, he pulls you up on your feet and helps you sit on the desk before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull himself closer to you.

"Miss Lee," he whispers, "I'm sure the post-orgasm clarity is now sinking in both of our minds, but we certainly need to address the elephant in the room."

You lean forward to rest your head on his chest, closing your eyes shut for a moment, you take a deep breath in and relax your tensed muscles. "Professor Jeong...I've wanted this to happen for a long time."

"So, you have no regard for me losing my job, do you?" he teases, rubbing circles on your back to soothe you, "Lee Sherri, you really are a brat. Making me break my rules."

"What rules?" you grin, peeking up at him as your wrap your arms around his broad chest.

"I don't date my students," he murmurs, pecking your forehead.

"Who's suggesting you date me?" you chuckle, shaking your head, "we can be fuck buddies."

"Is that what you call it nowadays?" he laughs, heartily, pouting down at you as he continues, "we'll have to be really careful, Sherri. Can't have anyone knowing about us—"

Knock knock!

Your eyes go wide, your heart thumps in your chest and your lips start quivering in fear. On the other hand, Yunho is pretty tame, and he only offers you a reassuring smile.

"Straighten out your clothes and relax. It's no stranger, I've been expecting him actually," he mumbles, breaking apart from your embrace to pull his pants and briefs up.

Whilst he is buttoning his pants and buckling the belt, you too tug your panties up and hop off the desk. You try to smoothen out the creases on your skirt and blouse—your white lacy socks were stained with dust at the knees, but you didn't care about it. The clutter of papers on the desk remains as it is, neither of you bothered to organise it. Professor Jeong smiles at you warmly before heading to the door of the classroom, he unlocks the latch and pulls the doors inside to reveal another man with tall silhouette standing there.

Professor Song.

"Since when have you been locking your doors, Yun?" the latter teasingly mutters and chortles, stepping past his friend and entering the classroom which reeks of sweat and sex. He sniffs the air and along the lines his eyes land on you, "ah. So, you were having "one-on-one" with your student."

Professor Song wasn't a professor from your department, he was the heartthrob of the physics department, seemingly the kind who would definitely not have any sentiments towards his students or anyone younger to him for that matter. Clad in a plaid shirt and khakis, he too had a body worth breaking the laws for; his toned biceps bulged out of the sleeves he had rolled over to his elbows, his thick thighs (which you've fantasied riding on) were defined by his tight khakis, and hazel eyes were piercing through you with curiosity.

"Miss Lee and I were just discussing, weren't we, Miss Lee?" Yunho calls out from behind him, tugging down on the crotch of his pants for some apparent reason.

"Discussing what?"

You shift your weight on your feet, standing an inch away from the desk (where you were just railed by your professor) and you pull down on your skirt, not knowing why you felt the need to. You eye your tote bag fallen down on the floor, then at the mess of your binder on the table, and one thing becomes clear which is you and Professor Jeong did fuck on the table.

"I was chiding her for not completing her experimental write-ups, Min," Yunho adds, scratching the back of his neck as he comes to stand next to him. "Miss Lee, we'll have a proper discussion about your careless behaviour next time, perhaps tomorrow. Now, you may leave."

You nod, "ye—yes professor."

Hastily, you sprint out of the classroom after gathering your things and stuffing them in your bag in a haphazard way; meanwhile Mingi rolls his eyes at his friend and scoffs.

"Lie to someone else, Yun."

"Fuck you," he grumbles before a conceited smirk takes over his face.

"If you keep your trap shut, maybe we can share."

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wrestlingwithlife · 1 year ago

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COD Incorrect Quotes With Our Lovely Y/n

Warning gets a little spicy towards the end ;)

Price: Well, should I be worried?

Y/n: Not yet.

Price:

Y/n:

*loud explosion*

Y/n: Now you can worry

————————————————————————

Y/n: No, I don't want to talk about physics! I don't know anything about the laws of physics because they are hard and boring. I simply would like them to behave in a way that is most convenient to ME and MY LIFE! Is that really asking too much?

Gaz: Yes, as a matter of fact, it is!

Y/n: Well, guess what? Science is stupid bullshit!!

Gaz: You take that back!!!

Y/n: No. Magic is awesome. Science blows. The end.

————————————————————————

Y/n: What are you doing here?

Soap: I could ask you the same question.

Y/n: I live here. This is my room.

Soap: I should probably ask you a different question.

————————————————————————

Y/n: I just heard Ghost call the dog a “fucking liar” because he barked like someone was at the door and no one was there.

————————————————————————

Price: I am going to need you to swear-

Y/n: Fuck.

Price:

Price: ...swear as in promise.

————————————————————————

Price: *shatters a window and climbs through it*

Price: *turns around and helps Y/n through it* Breaking and entering is wrong Y/n

Y/n: Okay.

————————————————————————

Ghost: You read my diary?

Y/n: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

————————————————————————

Y/n: I like your new pants!

Price: Thanks, they were 50% off!

Y/n: I’d like them better if they were 100% off. *winks*

Price: The store can’t just give away clothes for free.

Y/n: Thats’s… not what I meant.

Price: That’s a terrible way to run a business, Y/n.

————————————————————————

Y/n: The real treasure was the memories we made along the way.

Graves: I almost died.

Y/n: That... was my favorite memory.

————————————————————————

Soap: You look good in that hoodie.

Y/n: You know where else I'd look good?

Soap, zero hesitation: My bed.

Y/n, at the same time: By your side- wait, what?

————————————————————————

Ghost: This bloodline ends with me.

Y/n: That's the fanciest way I've ever heard someone say "I'm gay".

————————————————————————

Y/n: Gaz, you do remember when we agreed we were better off as friends, right?

Gaz, naked in Y/n's bed: No, I absolutely do not.

Y/n, already taking off his clothes: Fuck... Me neither.

————————————————————————

Price: We should get you to a doctor for a check up immediately. What if it happens again, and there isn’t anyone around to help you? What if it’s congenital? Oh my God! Was it me? Did I hurt you?

Y/n: …You realize any other person that made their partner pass out on bed would simply feel really proud of themselves, right?

————————————————————————

Y/n: Well, Ghost and I finally did it!

The rest of the squad: *gasps, shocked expressions, etc.*

Y/n: That's right... We kissed!

————————————————————————

Y/n: There are 20 letters in the alphabet, right?

Gaz: Nope, there's 26.

Y/n: Ah, I must have forgotten U, R, A, Q, T.

Gaz: Aww, that's cute, but you're still missing one.

Y/n: You'll get the D later ;).

————————————————————————

Y/n: What are you in the mood for?

Ghost: World domination.

Y/n: That's a bit ambitious.

Ghost: You are my world.

Y/n: Aww...

Ghost:

Y/n:

Ghost:

Y/n: OH.

————————————————————————

Price: Know why I called you in here?

Y/n: Because I accidentally sent you a dick pic.

Price: *Stops pouring two glasses of wine.* Accidentally?

————————————————————————

Soap: You know my motto: carpe diem, carpe noctem, carpe coles.

Y/n: Seize the day, seize the night, what’s the last one?

Soap: Seize the dick.

————————————————————————

Hopefully these helped quench you guy’s hunger whilst I work on my next post.

- Author~Chan out ✌️

#cod modern warfare #cod price #captain john price #cod x y/n #cod x reader #task force 141 x male reader #task force 141 #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #cod gaz #incorrect quotes

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strawberryblue-blog · 5 months ago

Text

Guilty as Sin? —Pablo Gavi.

summary: Your relationship with Gavi as friends with benefits is no longer the same and you have to do something even if it means breaking up with him.

warnings: none. friends with benefits, sad, angst, break up, discomfort, curses, etc.

words count: +2.3k

#SEXYNOTE: As promised, here I leave you this story. I apologize for any errors or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language. Thanks for everything. Pedri imagine 🔜

It was late Friday night when you were still reading your notes and taking notes while the video played on your computer. You were supposed to turn in a paper tomorrow and you had fallen a little behind after so many assignments.

Maybe it was because your head had been a mess the last few days but you tried to ignore it and move on. If you kept putting ideas into your head, you wouldn't end up well and you had suffered enough to go back to square one.

It was probably late and you needed a break but you couldn't afford a nap right now. Your eyes were focused on the video when your phone vibrated in the distance. You ignored it.

But it vibrated again.

You stretched out your hand without waiting for the screen view as you unlock your phone. The notification makes you sigh and you open it wearily. You had at least seven messages from Pablo, asking where you were, what you're doing, who you were with. You rolled your eyes wondering whether to respond but after a few moments you locked your phone again.

As you refocused your head back on your stuff, your doorbell rang, making you jump with fright. Damn. The pounding on your door grew louder as the doorbell continued to ring making you despair. You got up from your chair quickly in a fury, walking to your front door and sighing. You open the door quickly and your eyes take in his figure, you are infuriated and you will let him know it.

"What the fuck, Pablo?" you squeal tiredly.

First your phone, now your doorbell. If you didn't answer it was clearly for a reason, why had he come?

"What are you doing here?" you asked again at his silence. His gaze was somewhat lost.

"I wanted to see you" he says taking a step forward. But you stop him. You don't want him to pass.

"Well you saw me, go away" you mutter angrily.

What did he want anyway? He had ignored you for days, now he appreciates out of nowhere and that made you desperate. Lately he did that with you. Ignoring you and showing up only when he wanted to and not when you needed him.

You used to be closer but these last months Pablo had been quite distant and disinterested on his part. And although you tried to find out what had changed in him or why he was treating you this way, he didn't seem to care at all, so you didn't care either.

"Y/n..." he mumbles, grimacing.

Now you are inside your house and you really fear for your integrity knowing that he already has power over you. Especially with that puppy dog look. His hands wrap around your waist pulling you closer and you whimper.

Great. The only thing missing, him showing up at your house when you're vulnerable. He knew you weren't going to throw him out or anything, he had that effect on you. Couldn't he tell things between you weren't right?

"Pablo, stop" you ask as his face sinks into your neck. Your skin bristles and even though you don't want to push him away, you have to stop him.

"I missed you, baby" he whispers and his lips search for you but your hands are quicker and they rest on his chest pressing against it.

However, he is more agile than you and quickly kisses you. His lips wrap around yours and you sigh loss as you kiss him back. You had missed him too, even more when he had been away these days. His tongue takes place in your mouth and tastes you, Gavi smiles a little as he feels you gasp when his hands go to your waist.

It was clear he had other intentions in coming here but you weren't going to fall for his webs again. Not if you didn't want to leave with a broken heart. You had suffered from his distance these past few months and could barely recover when he came back to you.

Your relationship with Pablo had changed over time, you first started out as friends, you got along well and had fun together like typical friends. You used to just hang out, write to each other, visit each other, do typical things that friends do until one night you slept together and everything changed.

You thought it had been a mistake and that it would never happen again, until you did it again. Again and again when you needed each other.

You started to see each other secretly from your friends, he would come to your house or you would go to his, in secret, no one even imagined it. You saw each other when you felt lonely or bored, sometimes to keep each other company but mostly to fuck and then you pretended to be friends as if nothing had happened between you.

These last weeks you had tried to meet him, you tried to call him and send him messages but he completely ignored you. But sometimes he would show up at your apartment when he wanted to fuck, you would do it and then he would run away from you when you wanted to know about him.

Yet he kept coming back to you again and again.

Just like now.

Your friendship had been damaged, you both knew it, you no longer talked or spent time together, you just fucked and it was killing the only "friendship" left between you. All these years, your secrets, the smiles, your nights awake under the stars, the talks in the wee hours of the morning, nothing made sense anymore.

You had become strangers. Strangers who fucked and nothing more. And that broke your soul. Because you were used to the idea of him being yours when in reality he wasn't. Clearly tonight was proving it. You were nothing. All that had meant nothing.

Of course, you have to admit that you never promised anything. You only saw each other when you wanted to fuck and then he left you with your feelings blooming. You were afraid that he would leave you at some point, which was the normal thing to do because of his situation, but it hurt you more that he didn't even bother to ask you how you felt about everything.

When you feel like that's enough from him, you pull away from his mouth, hearing him growl as he tries to kiss you again and you run your face. Gavi watches you somewhat angrily and confused.

"What's wrong?" he asks without understanding.

"We need to talk" you say putting your hands on your chest.

You feel that if you don't put a stop to this, you will end up consumed by passion and whether you want to or not, this is hurting you more than him.

"We don't have to say anything" he murmurs toying with your waist, his fingers draw you back to him and your body responds.

His hands feel warm on your skin and you recognize his scent quickly. His nose sniffs your skin and you shiver as you feel your belly churn. You swallow saliva holding your breath to maintain your posture and push him away from you again. But he doesn't let go and drags you onto the couch, depositing you on it gently as his lips impact yours.

Inevitably like an action programmed in your head, you reciprocate his kiss but instead of feeling it with passion, you pity him. You want to kiss him, it's clear but not knowing that he will then walk out the door and leave you a mess. How he's done it for months, come, take a piece of your soul and then leave with it.

You don't want to be the one to end it this way but unlike Gavi, you seem to be the only one who has the balls to do something about your little friendship or whatever relationship you have.

But you want to enjoy it one last time. At least you deserve it if you'll finish everything after this. So you try to keep his every move in your head, to remember every trace of his touch on your skin, to file every caress of his lips on yours. Even though your heart aches and you want to push him away from you, you allow yourself to enjoy his touch, his desire, his passion.

"Pablo" you call him panting when he crosses the boundaries.

You feel it's the perfect time to speak. If you don't now, you never will knowing him. His dark eyes look at you in confusion and his attention is drawn to you.

"We need to end this" you say softly. Your hands encircle the back of his neck and his brow furrows in confusion.

"What do you say, Y/n?" he asks doubtfully. His body lifts off of yours and he re-incorporates himself sitting up to look at you seriously.

"I can't do this anymore, Pablo" you admit sighing.

"Do what?" he insists.

You shake your head worriedly. He lets out a grumbling huff.

You don't say anything more. You've just said it all. He looks at you confused and his shoulders tense at your overwhelming silence. He doesn't seem to want to understand the situation and that makes you despair, he really is being selfish.

"Do you want to end this?" he asks tensely.

"Y-yes" you say sincerely and painfully.

"You're overreacting" his arms rest on his thighs and he sighs. "It's just sex" he says again.

Your chest heaves as you feel the pain grow. It's breaking your soul that he's so indifferent to you as if he never cared about your feelings.

Yes, maybe it was just sex. But you can no longer hide as if your feelings for him haven't changed, you're tired of enduring the pain he leaves every time he seeks you out and then leaves you. He gives you signals that you don't know how to take and then disappears like its nothing, it's not fair. Every time you tried to talk this with him, he would ignore you or say it was your ideas.

"We're not the same anymore, we've changed" you insist with your voice cracking.

"We're just friends" he points out lifting his shoulders.

Those words burn in your head. Just friends. Yes, you were but not clearly anymore. You are in a vicious cycle that only leaves you in a loop of the same thing over and over again. Maybe he doesn't see it that way but you are in danger.

"No, we're not friends anymore..." you say with a sigh.

"What the fuck do you want from me?" he questions exhaustedly interrupting you.

His tone of voice surprises you. The words choke in your throat and the air becomes tiny.

"Stop ignoring me, stop acting like a jerk, stop avoiding this conversation, Pablo" you say, a little excited.

You are hurt. You've wanted to talk for so long and keeping these feelings bottled up has hurt you, you won't shut up again. You are tired. You want this to end, for better or worse.

His back tenses as he listens to you, rests his elbows on his thighs and clutches his head in hiding. Just like a coward.

"I'm sick of you ignoring me and then coming after me like you don't give a shit about my feelings" you spit without swinging. "You want to have sex fine! but then don't ignore me for days, answer when I call you or listen to me when i want to talk to you, at least answer my fucking messages!" you shout in exasperation.

Gavi shakes his head denying with a wry laugh.

"You have no right to ask me anything, we are nothing" he mutters harshly and you tremble with fury.

"It's not fair!" you shriek out of your mind. "Do you even wonder how I would feel after you run every time you come back for me?" you ask warily.

He snorts again as if what you say is meaningless to him. Like you weren't important at all. he wasn't going to say anything? He really was an idiot.

"What do you want me to say?" he asks as if he reads your mind.

"I want to be with you but do you want to be with me?" you question confident with your statement.

You can see his neck tense and his muscles react. Still with his head down, he remains silent. He knows very well what your words come to and the meaning of being with you is not just fucking. It goes far beyond that.

"Of course I want to" he says obviously raising his head.

"That's not what I mean, Pablo" you mumble slowly.

His eyes search for you and you bite your lips eagerly.

"Why do you say stupid things?" he asks with a grimace. His nose wrinkles and you feel like you want to cry. "We said nothing was going to happen between us, we were just going to have fun."

Your belly twists in pain. You're completely vulnerable in front of him but you don't care, you just want this to be over with for fuck's sake.

"We never said that, it just happened" you whisper weakly.

"Because we only sleep together when we want to, isn't that what we used to do?" he lifts his arms exhaustedly.

"That's what you want!" you squeal again.

Tears begin to sting in your eyes and pain spreads through every pore of your body. This is hurting too much but more you are hurt by his indifference, his unconcern. Knowing that he doesn't care about you at all.

"I can't go through with this" you admit devastated.

"I don't understand why you're giving it so much thought, it's just sex, there are no feelings in between" he insist getting up from his spot.

"Did you really think this would work?" you question you scornful and disappointed. "You're hurting me!" you spit in reproach.

His attitudes are the straw that broke the camel's back. Ignoring you for days, leaving you alone when you needed him, pretending you were fine, that your relationship as friends was perfect, not caring enough, avoiding conversations. He may not see it this way but he couldn't see what was hurting you either.

"You're the one who ruined it!" he raises his voice pointing at you.

His words stab like daggers into your chest and you swallow a sob. You don't want to make a fuss when it doesn't even make sense, he's just said it all. Yes, you fell in love. But it's not your fault, it's both of yours for letting this happen.

Gavi watches you and you can't stand it. It hurts you to be the one with enough nerve to face the situation and yet he still gets offended. He acts like nothing is going on between you when your whole relationship is in chaos. You are no longer the same as you were months ago, you are not friends, not a couple, not close, not anything.

He clearly just sees you as someone he can fuck and nothing more. He doesn't see you as a friend, he doesn't see you as a lover, he doesn't see you as the person who is in love with him. He doesn't see you at all.

"Go away" you ask sobbing. You cover your chest with your knees and hug yourself, looking for some encouragement.

You want to let it all go. You need to get it off your chest and forget about it. He doesn't say anything, just stares at you in confusion. His silence burns, leaves a trace of emptiness in your heart and makes you despair but there is nothing else to do.

"Let's forget what happened, it's just you and me" he whispers kneeling in front of you and wraps his hands around your legs.

Pablo tries to smile weakly as he caresses your skin. Your chest resonates and you want me to embrace you but you can't. You can't get back into this vicious cycle, which only makes your heart break. You have to cut the streak and try to save yourself because Gavi doesn't seem to want to save you either.

You deny in tears, how can he be so cynical like that? You just said that this is over, that you're hurting each other, that there's no end here with no one coming out healthy.

"Go away" you demand angrily again.

His eyes weaken and he opens his mouth to say something but you don't let him. Not when all that comes out of his mouth is shit towards you.

"Get out of my house now" you shriek on the verge of exploding.

Your shout takes him by surprise and he stands up quickly, startled. He scratches the back of his neck as he searches for your sad look and when he meets it, he knows you're serious.

He nods slightly and moves but stops to look at you again, your head looks away as tears fall endlessly down your cheeks. You won't see him go. You don't want him to leave. But it has to end here.

You hear his soft footsteps walking away and open the door, for a few seconds he stands there. You can see him out of the corner of your eye, his hand is holding the doorknob and he keeps watching you, as if he expects you to ask him not to leave at any moment, but you don't.

You hug yourself tighter over your body and sob as he slams the door of your apartment, walking completely out of it. You collapse into a thousand pieces in that instant, letting out everything that made you ache.

Your head hurts from crying so much but your heart hurts more. You had lost the war against Gavi and you had fallen for him. It was obvious that at some point one of you would feel something for the other but clearly, that had not been Gavi.

You loved him. You were in love with him and you hoped he felt the same but his signals didn't tell you the same and acting now was the only way to save yourself. It should never have started like this, you should have stopped this before it was too late.

You try to hold out hope that in time, you were going to heal and understand his reasons. But for now, you can only live with the burden of having fallen in love with someone who doesn't love you back.

#football imagines #imagine #football one shot #fc barcelona #pablo gavi #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavi x reader #gavi #strawberryblue blog

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