#they are political science students after all
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randomjreader · 1 year ago
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How political do you think hidden agenda is gonna be? I know in the special episode mentioned something about how they wanna bring in real world issues into the debate storyline, but how far do you think they'll go? Especially since during the whole filming period there was everything going on with the elections in Thailand?
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sophieswundergarten · 2 years ago
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There should be more content on the systemic rivalry of Curtain as a theatre kid and Milligan as a
#The other adults can be there too#Like Mr. B as the bookish kid and Garrison as part of the STEM club#(they impeached her as president because she kept pushing them to do *slightly* illegal activities)#OR#Even better it's like all of them being school teachers of different subjects#Curtain's still theatre and Milligan's PE#But. Like. Fun PE where he makes up adventure scenarios to motivate students and plays fun music and gets them engaged#Mr. B's the librarian#Number Two's the shop teacher and she's scary good at it#Maybe she also helps with lunches I'm not sure#And Miss Perumal's the Home Economics teacher and she's fantastic but also teaches self defense because “It counts as Home Econ”#Wait maybe Curtain's the principle too but nobody listens to him and he just sends out crazed announcements through the PA system#And all the teachers listen politely and then are like “Anyways—”#Maybe Rhonda's the Home Econ teacher actually#And Miss Perumal's the geography/social sciences teacher#Actually that's much better#And she takes the kids on the best field trips#But she Rhonda and Number Two still teach self-defense#Curtain doesn't want them to but Milligan lets them into the gym after school's over and hangs out with them while they do it#Actually I've changed my mind Moocho is in charge of the school kitchen#And sometimes he sneaks Number Two in there and they experiment together#Mr. B is the absolute best librarian and he's just so nice and comforting and supportive#He teaches a course every semester about internet safety and how to properly fact-check things so you know what's true#He makes the library super calm and inviting and it's full of soft green plaid plush chairs#And they're not just in the open spaces either#There's lots of little hidden areas where people can go and sit and read if they don't want to be bothered#He lets kids take naps in there sometimes if they're having a bad day#And gives them tea and talks to them#And then of course his brother shows up and tells him off for letting a student skip class#And he apologises as bunch (But he doesn't stop doing it)
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euphemiaamillais · 9 months ago
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modern!buzzcut coryo teaching innocent!reader how to suck his cock the way he likes it :(. and he’s all cocky cause reader’s never seen a dick irl and she praises it like “ur so big, coryo :((“ “it’s so pretty”
coryo is reader’s tutor in university and she’s always had a bit of a crush on him cause he’s so handsome, smart and confident
UGHHH need a little blurb about this pleasee
🎀 anon this is insane tysm for this prompt
mdni | coryo teaches you to suck him off
you’d had the biggest crush on coryo since he’d been assigned to you as your tutor—he was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen; icy blue eyes, toned arms and a blonde buzzcut. normally you went for the more quiet, boy-next-door type; but you couldn’t help but be attracted to him, there was something about his more dangerous nature that tempted you—that made your core burn.
you two had gotten considerably close compared to the other students he tutored, and one evening he asked you for a private study session at his apartment. you were nervous, but also brimming with excitement. you were only nervous because you really liked him, but you were a virgin and if he tried anything, you were worried you’d be clumsy.
you made sure to look extra nice—and put on your tightest shirt and a tiny mini skirt, hoping he’d catch sight of your lacy underwear if you had to bend over. you even put on a little lipgloss, one that smelled like strawberries.
when you knocked on his door, he was dressed in a white shirt that stretched across his muscular arms and toned chest, and the look he gave you when he cast his gaze over your body made your heart thump. he couldn’t stop looking at your thighs, the way your mini skirt barely stopped past your ass. fuck, were you doing this on purpose?
‘hi coryo,’ you greeted him with a hug, and he got a whiff of your apple shampoo as you wrapped your arms around him.
he had to draw in a deep breath as he felt your boobs pressing against his torso; afraid that the blood would rush to his cock from the way you were being so touchy.
‘i thought we’d work on some political theory,’ he said, trying to distract himself from how fucking good you looked.
you nodded shyly, too consumed by the thought of how big his arms felt around you, how his hands brushed against your waist. you couldn’t believe he was hot and smart—to be honest you didn’t really care much for your political science class but seeing him made you work harder.
as you bounded down the hall to the living room, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the way your little skirt swished against your ass—revealing the pair of lace panties you were wearing. he decided you were definitely trying to do this on purpose.
it was boring, going over different democratic processes, and you felt yourself yawning as he droned on and on. all you could think about was how much you wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss him… or perhaps do more. you’d never seen a cock before, but you wanted to know what it felt like—to suck one, perhaps…
‘are you listening to me?’ you heard the voice of coryo call out, bringing you back to earth.
‘sorry,’ you pursed your lips, casting an apologetic look.
coryo shook his head, but decided to let you off—after all, there were more interesting things he could be doing this evening. your skirt had hiked up around your thighs, and you could see him staring. your cheeks turned pink, embarrassment flooding to them.
‘are you bored?’ he inquired, and you tilted your head ever so slightly.
‘y-yes,’ you admitted, eyes glancing down at your feet.
being aware that he was looking at you had made you nervous—suddenly you felt very conscious of the fact that you were wearing a tiny skirt, and that your shirt was stretching against your breasts. coryo leaned in closer to you, breath brushing against your cheek. you could see desire brimming in his icy gaze, and felt one of his hands snake to your lower back.
‘what do you want to do instead?’ he murmured.
your lip trembled, he was so close to you, his hand moved down to cup your ass—you were so innocent, the way you were bashfully gazing up at him.
‘um…’ a giggle escaped your lips. ‘i don’t know…’
he cocked a brow, smirk crossing his lips. he didn’t believe that, not with the way you were dressed, not with how you didn’t try to push him away when he squeezed your ass.
‘you sure about that?’ you shook your head in response, pretty eyes filled with nervousness. you were waiting for him to say something.
coryo felt his cock hardening as you shifted a little, hand accidentally brushing against his crotch. his lips parted, and he brought your own against them, enveloping you in a kiss. you opened your mouth, letting your tongue brush against his, making pretty noises as he kissed you hotly.
you’d never gone further than a few drunken makeouts with boys, so when you moved into coryo’s lap you were quite surprised at the feeling of something hard poking against your thigh. when you pulled away, cheeks flushed, chest heaving from your pounding heart, he had a lustful look drawn upon his face.
‘look at that, you’ve made me hard,’ coryo whispered against your ear, his hand still pawing at your ass.
‘sorry,’ you were still red, but you felt a wetness beginning to form between your thighs.
‘mhm, i don’t think you’re very sorry, are you princess?’ he teased, nipping at the soft skin of your neck. he wondered if you’d ever been given a hickey before.
‘no…’ you admitted, lashes fluttering.
how cute. the way you were all rosy-cheeked and nervous at the sight of him being hard. he let out a low groan as you moved your hips down against him—unconscious of what you were doing, of course. you only realised what you were doing when you felt his boner pressing right against your cunt.
‘you know… i could get you some extra credit if you do something for me.’ he offered. you perked up at the thought of that—extra credit. you really hated your political science class.
‘what do you want me to do?’ your brows were furrowed, an innocent look painted upon your features.
‘you know how to suck cock?’ he asked, and you shook your head, drawing your lips into a thin line.
you wanted to do it, though. you wanted him so bad that your panties were soaked, and you were sure he could feel it. the way you were moving your hips ever-so-slightly and clenching your thighs to ease the tension.
'course you don't...' he thumbed the flushed skin of your cheeks, a smile creeping upon his lips at the thought of corrupting you. 'gonna teach you how, yeah? i'm your tutor for a reason.'
your eyes widened, and he couldn't help but sigh at how fucking innocent you were. but he saw a level of desperation inside of you too, a need for him and his cock.
'now, princess, you're going to get on your knees, yeah?' his voice was soft as he directed you, pulling you off his lap so you could kneel before him.
when you'd obliged him, you gazed up at him, dumbfounded, and he took your hand and guided it to his bulge. he was so hard—painfully so—and the way you were looking at him, so eager to please, only made him throb all the more.
'see how fucking hard you've made me?' you nodded, giggling with delight as you palmed his clothed cock.
'i wanna suck it now,' you said, a little demanding.
he smirked, and moved your hand to the waistband of his jeans, directing you to unbutton them. you obeyed, and slid his jeans down to reveal his black calvin klein boxers—a man with taste, obviously. he looked even bigger now through his underwear, and you audibly gasped, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth with a hunger.
'is it gonna fit?' you asked anxiously, brows arching.
'course it will, princess,' he remarked, thinking about how much he'd love to see you gagging around him with those pretty pink lips of yours—he loved how they'd tasted of strawberries when you'd kissed him; so deliciously innocent.
you tugged at the waist and of his boxers, and when his cock sprang out your mouth stretched open in shock. he was so big. like, unbelievably big. not that you’d ever seen a cock before but you couldn’t fathom how it was supposed to fit in your mouth. the tip was red and leaning against his shirt until you reached out to grab it with your hand.
‘it’s so pretty,’ you smiled up at him, singing praises.
‘yeah? you wanna put it in your mouth?’ he suggested, and you gnawed nervously at your glossy lips.
‘what exactly do i have to do?’ you inquired, furrowing your brows. you looked so cute and confused that he had to clench his thighs to stop himself coming at the sight of you. that would be humiliating.
‘give the tip a lick, princess,’ he guided, and so you obliged.
you moved your head down, one hand gripping the base. you liked how it felt in your hand, warm and pulsing. you could almost giggle at the feeling, you wanted to take it all the way down your throat so bad but he was just too big. you stuck your tongue out, and gave the tip an experimental lick, licking up all the precum that coated it.
coryo let out a soft groan, moving his hand to smooth your hair as a gesture that you were going well. you licked the tip again, and then gazed up at him, eager to see his response. his mouth was stretched around another sound of pleasure, and his hips twitched ever so slightly at the feeling of your wet tongue.
‘it’s like a lollipop,’ you giggled, and he felt himself throb at your innocence. you just couldn’t help being so cute, could you? so fucking naive that you were in university and you’d never even sucked cock before!
‘now, i want you to take me properly,’ he begun, and you watched as he instructed you. ‘wrap your lips around me, yeah? see how far you can go.’
you obliged, making sure to push your top lip behind your teeth, realising that would probably hurt the sensitive skin of his shaft. you moved your head as far down as you could go, and when he hit the back of your throat you gagged and your eyes welled up with tears automatically.
his cock twitched in your mouth. you’d barely taken in two inches of him and already your mouth was full, lips stretched wide, pretty eyes watering. he watched you attempt to push yourself further, but it was too much, and you gagged again.
‘too big,’ you whined, a few tears trickling down your cheek.
he swiped them away with his thumb, and shook his head.
‘you gotta move your head up and down, princess,’ he guided you back to wrap your lips back around the tip. ‘try use your tongue too, laying it flat against the shaft as you bob your head.’
you moved your tongue against his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down, and watched as he let out a breathy moan. you attempted to take him further again, this time you reached about half way before gagging and having to pull him out.
‘i’m sorry,’ you whimpered, but he simply stroked your cheek and beamed down at you.
‘you’re doing so well, princess. you can use your hand if the rest won’t fit,’ he murmured, and you gave a nod of understanding.
you used one hand to grip the base while the other stroked him up and down, and wrapped your lips back around his cock. it was easier now, you didn’t have to worry about taking the other half—and it was a big half—down your throat, so you laved at him as much as you could, saliva coating his veiny cock.
‘fuck,’ he groaned, feeling his balls tighten as your tongue slid over a particularly sensitive vein.
your eyes rolled back as you pushed him to the back of your throat, hollowing out your cheeks so as much of him could fit. your core flooded with heat, you loved having his cock in your mouth so much. you adjusted your hips a little to try and ease the tension, but it was no use, so you just had to put up with the dull ache as you continued to suck him off.
coryo moved your hand at the base of his cock, and guided it to his balls. you fondled them gently, watching as his features were dancing with satisfaction, eyes fluttering prettily.
‘good girl,’ he said between groans. ‘taking my cock so well, so good…’
you smiled best you could, though it was hard with his cock down your throat. you felt him throbbing in your mouth, and pulled him out for a brief second so you could move your tongue up and down his shaft.
‘want you to come in my mouth,’ you informed him with an impish grin, moving to slide your tongue down the underside of his cock.
‘wasn’t planning on coming anywhere else… yet,’ he laughed softly, threading his fingers through your hair as you swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock.
he was close, hips bucking into your palm as one hand massaged his balls. you were a quick learner, which was surprising considering you were quite the opposite when it came to political science. perhaps he’d just have to tutor you in this, instead.
‘mhm, gonna…’ his mouth stretched around another groan. ‘come.’
your lips were wrapped around him once again, and with an elegant thrust he emptied himself in your mouth. hot spurts of cum trickled onto your tongue and down your throat, the pearly stuff tasting slightly salty.
you giggled, pulling him out and watching the excess dribble from his tip. you opened your mouth wide and stuck your tongue out, showing him all the cum that pooled on it.
‘swallow it,’ he commanded.
you obliged, feeling it trickle down your throat. you poked your tongue out again and took the head—which was now extremely sensitive—licking up the rest of the stuff from his leaky tip.
‘so good,’ you moaned, swallowing it all down.
he couldn’t believe how hot you were, plump lips wet with saliva, your eyes gazing at him as you swallowed every last drop of his cum.
‘i’ll make sure you get an A on this assignment,’ he smiled, pulling you up to sit in his lap.
‘of course, that’s after i tutor you in something else…’
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aikastales · 7 months ago
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i’m drunk, i love you (jk)
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𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: with only a day before graduation, you make a promise that you will not only graduate from university, but also from your feelings for your best friend of seven years, jeon jungkook.
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𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: film student!jungkook x med tech student!fem!oc (named sola)
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𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: heavy angst, unrequited love, jungkook as an isko agenda, set in the ph 🇵🇭
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𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌: this story is fiction. it does not represent the members of bangtan or any of the idols here in real life. all resemblance to real life characters, institutions, associations, places, events, among others are either purely coincidence or depicted in a fictitious manner only. there’s really no warnings for this story other than it’s a self-indulgent fic to get me back to writing. the smut isn’t that severe. just kissing, nipple sucking, and grinding. this is based on the film, i’m drunk i love you, which i highly recommend you watch. i didn’t alter much of the plot & scenes bc i think they’re already great as it is, but i did tweak a bit here and there. i hope you enjoy! let me know what you think by reblogging/commenting. ♡
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𝗍𝗈𝗍𝖺𝗅 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍: 5,784
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You were never quite the believer in love at first sight, but what you felt that night was the closest thing to that feeling. 
He was one of the freshmen performers during your orientation, singing Adam Levine’s Lost Stars. Like the entire audience, you were captivated by his heavenly vocals and charisma as he performed on stage with an acoustic guitar one of the seniors lent him. Not only that, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t bad looking either—quite the opposite, really. 
However, after the orientation, you didn’t get to see much of the dark-haired handsome boy. You were studying at UP, the biggest state university in the country, and so your paths were bound not to cross. Until, your older cousin, who was a senior at that time, invited you to eat dinner with him and a couple of his buddies after seeing you strolling around campus alone. When you arrived at the eatery, you not only saw your cousin Yoongi’s friends—Yijeong and Woosung—you also spotted the boy who hadn’t left your mind since you saw him over four months ago at that time. 
You sat across from him and you tried your best not to freak out as Yoongi introduced the both of you. Apparently, he had already known Jungkook because he was the younger stepbrother of his other friend, Namjoon. During the course of your dinner, you and Jungkook didn’t really talk much. But you would muster up the courage to ask him some basic questions such as his program, why he went to UP, if he joined any orgs yet, etcetera. Jungkook was polite enough to answer your inquiries. 
He was a Film major. He went to UP because everyone in his family went to UP so it was the most obvious choice for him and he was a member of the Film society. In return, Jungkook asked the same set of questions. You were a pre-med student, Medical Technology, to be exact, and you went to UP because it was your dream school. You were also a member of the College of Arts and Sciences’ student council. 
After your meal was finished, Yoongi entrusted your care to Jungkook as they were going to meet up with some of their friends and you were both living at campus dormitories anyway. So, you hopped into his old army green Toyota Rav4 and needless to say, the ride back to UP was awkward. So, to get rid of the awkward silence, you asked if you could play some music. He said sure and handed you the aux cord already connected to his stereo. Once you had the other end connected to your phone, you played one of your favorite songs—Waltz of Four Left Feet by Shirebound and Busking. 
To your surprise, Jungkook also knew the song and just like that, the awkward silence was gone and you became inseparable ever since. 
Music became the bridge that connected you and Jungkook. Whenever you would hangout, it was always your topic—your favorite artists, songs, original scores in films, best albums, underrated artists, overrated artists, the current state of music, everything. He also became your gig buddy—seeking out mainstream and indie artists you both liked and going to their live performances downtown bars, jam packed arenas and stadiums. 
But your favorite would always be watching him perform. After his performance at the orientation, he naturally became one of the popular students at UP. He wasn’t popular like a celebrity or an influencer, but heads would turn whenever he walked around campus. Also, he still had the luxury of privacy on his side, but if you looked at the right places, you would find small accounts on social media dedicated to him. He didn’t care for the attention, though, and just went about his day as normally as possible. 
His performance did land him some gigs here and there. You found it cute whenever he’d turn to you to ask if he should accept the invitation or not, and you would always tell him to do whatever he wanted. Most of the time, he accepted, especially if it was at Route 96, a historic venue for aspiring musicians. 
It was here that he performed the first song he wrote by himself called Still With You. It was also during this performance that you began to see him in a different light—quite literally. He was performing with the bar lights off, only the lights on stage and the spotlight illuminated the entire establishment. When the spotlight on him turned purple, you felt a whole new admiration for your best friend. It wasn’t the “Oh god I’m so proud of my best friend” kind, rather it was the “Oh fuck I’m in love with my best friend” realization. 
But like every other story where someone falls in love with their best friend, you kept your feelings hidden, hoping someday it would go away. However, you soon realized, once you fell in love with Jeon Jungkook, there was no going back. It was a rabbit hole. 
The more you spent time with him, the more you fell in love with him and all of him—from the way he smiles to the sound of his laugh, how he would always annoy the shit out of you when you were supposed to be studying to how he would remember small things about you like your favorite snack at the vending machine, how you’d be the first to know his test results to how you’d be his first audience for the short film they needed to produce for that semester, how he would lend you his jacket when you ate bingsu because he knew you’d get cold easily to how he’d send you random memes he found funny out of the blue. 
It was so easy to fall in love with Jeon Jungkook. Thus, everyone else did too. For seven years, you watched on the sidelines as he dated several girls and loved them how you wished he’d love you. 
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“In one day, you can finally lay your hands on Jungkook,” your best friend, Mingyu, teased as he took a sip from his beer. 
You let out a sarcastic laugh, head resting on your palm, elbow propped on the wooden table in front of you, a bottle of beer in the other hand. You were bordering on getting tipsy now as you had been drinking since you arrived at La Union with Mingyu and Jungkook in the afternoon. You didn’t even know why you agreed to your best friend’s idea of going to the province for a music festival when you had your graduation—the very graduation that was seven years in the making—on Sunday.   
“Fuck you, Kim Mingyu,” you told the honey-skinned man across from you with a chuckle. 
“What? Let this be your final test before finally graduating. Are you ready?” a lopsided grin appeared on his handsome face. 
Under the orange light, Kim Mingyu was easily one of the most handsome men you ever laid your eyes on. He was also tall, well-mannered, smart, capable, had a stable job while being a med student, and the textbook definition of a walking green flag. In another life, you could imagine yourself falling for him instead of Jungkook. But in the current universe you were in, he was one of your trusted friends who had known about your crush on Jungkook since first year. 
The waiter arrived to bring you your order of another bucket of Red Horse beer. Mingyu took a bottle from the silver bucket and opened it. “Happy horse for the happy whore,” he told you as he handed you the fresh bottle of beer. You gave him a middle finger. He laughed. “What? Am I not right?” 
“You’re the whore,” you replied. “I saw you with that cute chinito by the beach earlier. What happened to Mino?” 
He rolled his eyes at the mention of his ex—or you believed was his ex. You never really know with Mingyu and relationships. He was the complete opposite of you. While you were a hopeless romantic at heart, he didn’t believe in love—or so he says. 
“Seven years,” Mingyu mused, glancing towards the beach. “You didn’t stop falling in love with your best friend. Now, it looks like you don’t even plan to stop.” 
You sucked your teeth, tracing the water around the bottle due to the ice with your fingers. “Do I just throw it away?” You weren’t sure if you were asking Mingyu or yourself. “We make a good pair.” You laughed to yourself. 
“Except?” Mingyu pointed out the harsh reality. 
“Except,” you took in a shaky breath. “He doesn’t love me back. Maybe.” 
Mingyu sighed deeply, looking at his watch. “Time check: you still have your hopes up.” 
“It’s still early,” you argued. “I still have two days. Just give me time.” 
“Give me time?” Mingyu repeated, taking a sip from his beer. “What the fuck are you talking about, Sola? The universe has given you all the time. But you did nothing.” 
You groaned, throwing your head back as a realization hit you. “Fuck, Gyu, I just—I just realized. Is it right that we’re here? Was it the right decision to come here? My mom’s gonna be so mad once she finds out I’m in La Union.”  
“It’s all you. You’re a raging masochist,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway. Let’s just play a game. Let’s enumerate all the things you did with Jungkook. Those are seven years worth of memories, Sola. Game?” 
“Game.” 
“What year did you first meet Jungkook?” 
A smile immediately creeped up on your face. “2017.” 
Mingyu waved his hand at you. “Wow! You can do math! But I just thought of something—instead of just general memories. Let’s make them specific. Let’s list down all the stupid things you did for Jungkook for seven years.” 
“The fuck are you talking about?” you let out a scoff, drinking your beer. 
“What? Now you can’t remember?” he challenged. 
You clicked your tongue. “Fine, you stupid bitch. Ask away.” 
Mingyu grinned. “2018.” 
You hummed before saying, “Jungkook was heartbroken that year. I was back at home and he was at UP. But I rushed into the city to be there for him. I remember because I was supposed to attend this baptism with my parents but I snuck out and got an earful from my mother the next day. I was completely hungover too because Jungkook and I went bar hopping the entire night.” 
“Jesus Christ, Sola.” 
“Don’t judge me. It was my decision, okay?” 
Mingyu rolled his eyes. “Okay. 2019.” 
You stared at Mingyu, laughing as you recalled the memory. “2019. Me and Jungkook walked from UP to Aurora Boulevard just to tell me how Song Areum became his girlfriend.” 
He shook his head. “2020.” 
“2020—he was sick. I had an exam that day, but I quickly answered it so I could buy him his favorite, Tapsilog from Tapsi ni Vivian, before it ran out ‘cos it runs out quickly, right?” Mingyu nodded. You licked your lower lip then let out a small laugh. “But when I got to his dorm room, his roommate already told me Areum brought him to the university hospital. And I failed my exam ‘cos I didn’t answer the back part.” 
“2021, go!” 
“I loved him for four years now and counting. Is that good enough?” 
“Okay. I’ll accept it. 2022?” 
“2022—I’ve been in love with him for five fucking years already, fucking shit!” you exclaimed, feeling the alcohol in you boosting your confidence. 
“Okay. We’re in the last year, girl. What about in 2023? What was the stupid thing you did for Jungkook last year?” 
You gulped. “I’m two years delayed.” 
Mingyu exhaled deeply. A moment of silence settled between the two of you. Then, she asked, “Sola, it all boils down to this: when will you end this?” 
You sat up straight, taking a deep breath. “You mean when will I stop with my foolishness?” Mingyu nodded. You purse your lips. “Maybe when I’m done with UP. When I’m done with UP, I’ll graduate from everything—including him. Especially him.” 
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When you got back to your shared room with Jungkook and Mingyu, you were already tipsy. You almost fell face flat on the floor when you opened the door, feeling lightheaded, but luckily, your best friend was there to catch you. 
“You’re drunk, Sola,” Jungkook chuckled deeply. You could smell his expensive cologne—the one you bought for him for his birthday last year and it brought a huge grin on your face, knowing he wore it. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” 
“I’m fine, Guk. I’m not that drunk. But I do need to sit down,” you said followed by a set of giggles as you let Jungkook walk you to the bed you shared with Mingyu, and then you threw yourself on it, back against the mattress, arms spread like an eagle. 
Jungkook sat down beside you. “Are you still mad at me?” 
The question seemed to sober you up instantly. The truth was—you could never stay mad at him. For anything. Sometimes, you’d think he could do the most painful and hurtful thing to you, deliberately, and you would still forgive him even if he wouldn’t apologize. 
“I wasn’t mad. I was just… I just wished you would’ve told me the real reason why you wanted to come here,” you replied softly, biting your lower lip. 
“Would you have come? If I told you I wanted to go here because my ex wanted to reconnect—would you have come?” Jungkook matched your tone, looking over his shoulder to look at you. 
Instinctively, your eyes also darted towards his. The lights in the room were dim, only the lamp, the light coming beneath the bathroom door, and the moonlight outside illuminated the room. Jungkook looked especially beautiful in the dim light—long black wavy hair all messy from his habit of running his fingers through it, hooded eyes staring at you like he was memorizing every inch of you, the gentleness of his features made him look like an angel in this light. 
But then you’d see his dozens of piercings in his ears, eyebrow, and lower lip; his tattooed arm and hand, and the way he looked sexy as hell with his thin white long sleeved, sleeves rolled up to his elbow, and his white beach shorts that hugged his strong muscular thighs, and you’d realize he was more of a Greek god than an angel. 
“I’ll go wherever you go,” you told him, swallowing the lump in your throat. “You know that.” 
Jungkook lied down beside you and you felt your heartbeat racing. His tattooed arm was brushing against yours. His head was tilted, close to yours. 
“Will you go with me to the moon?” he asked. 
A small smile ghosted on your lips. “I will, Guk.” 
“How about Saturn?” 
“I’ll be with you there, too.” 
“Law school?” 
You turned your head to him. He was already looking at you. “Law school? Why?” 
He brushed the hair on your face aside with his fingers, making you tense. But you kept your composure. “I passed UP LAE.” 
“But,” you began. “What about film? I thought you didn’t wanna become a lawyer like your parents.” 
Jungkook looked at the ceiling. “It’s not that bad. Being a lawyer. Besides, I like studying.” 
“You’ve always wanted to become a director, though.” 
“I’m not good enough for it,” Jungkook scoffed. “All my batchmates are already directing their films and showing them at festivals here and abroad—yet here I am. Still here.” 
You turned on your side, propping your elbow to support your head as you looked at your best friend. It was rare for Jungkook to open up. Even to you. He was always someone who kept all his innermost thoughts and feelings to himself. In the seven years you’d known him, it still felt like there was a wall around him that you never managed to climb on or punch through. For seven years, it felt like you simultaneously knew everything and nothing about your best friend. 
“It’s not the end of the road, Jungkook. So what if they’re showing their films at festivals? You can do it too. At your own pace, in your own time,” you said. You wanted to reach for his face, to make him look at you, but you were scared. “You’re a great filmmaker, Guk. The best direk ever.” 
He looked at you once again. “You’re drunk, Yu Sola. Go to sleep.” 
He sat up, carrying your legs over the bed. You let out a groan. “I’m not drunk, Jeon Jungkook. Why do you always do that?” 
“Do what?” he asked, chuckling. 
“You always cut the conversation when you’re beginning to open up. You always clamp up, Guk. I wish you didn’t do that. I’m your—,” you bit the inside of your lower lip. What right did I have to demand him to open up to me? “I’m your best friend.” 
“I don’t clamp up. I just have nothing else to say,” your best friend replied with a shrug, fixing his hair as he looked in the mirror across from your bed. “Go to sleep. You’ll get a massive headache tomorrow. I’m just going to meet with Areum and her friends.”  
Then, you blurted it out. It just happened. You didn’t even know how. You always had this grand idea in your mind to do it after the graduation ceremony, that way, you could immediately leave. That way, you didn’t have to see him all the time. You would have enough time to move on and move forward in your life. 
But nothing in life truly went according to plan. 
“I love you, Jungkook,” you confessed. Your heart felt heavy and you sat up, head hanging low as you picked on your nails. Tears were beginning to form in your eyes. “I’ve loved you for seven years now.” 
And you sobbed, burying your face in your hands. Then, moments later, you felt your hands being taken away from your face. You lifted your head and saw Jungkook kneeling in front of you, holding your hands. He let one go to wipe away the tears on your face, to tuck your hair behind your ear. 
And then, ever so slowly, Jungkook leaned in and kissed you softly. A tear rolled down your cheek. His lips were soft while yours were chapped and wet from your tears, but he didn’t seem to mind. You were still in shock. This was not the response you expected. Not even in your wildest dreams but it was happening. 
Jungkook held your face, tilting his head as he continued to kiss you more—only this time with more need and passion. Your body reacted. You began to reciprocate his kisses, hands wrapping around his wrists. He tasted of toothpaste and mouthwash. 
He pushed you onto the bed, one hand remaining on your face while the other held your waist. Your fingers curled the ends of his hair. You could feel his growing member on your stomach and feeling it was enough to make your cunt wet. His lips then traveled on your jaw, down to your neck. You were breathing heavily as he nibbled on your sensitive skin, making a soft moan escape your lips. 
His hand made its way under your shirt and your breath hitched, causing Jungkook to lift his head from your neck, and look you in the eyes. 
“You okay?” he asked softly. 
You nodded. “I’m okay.” 
“Okay,” he smiled, making your heart skip a beat. “Is it okay if I take this off now?” 
“I—,” you were at a loss for words. Was this really happening? It seemed too good to be true. But it was happening and you wanted it more than anything else. “Okay. Yes, you can.” 
Jungkook peeled your shirt off, exposing your naked chest. You didn’t wear bras; found it too much of a hassle and you always hated the feeling. Instead, you wore nipple tapes. 
“What are these, Sola?” Jungkook asked with a chuckle, making your cheeks heat up. 
“They’re nipple tapes, you dumb ass,” you replied, smacking his arm lightly. 
“Okay. Do I just take them off, like, tape?” 
He was adorably cute. “Yes, you just take them off like tape.” 
And so he did just that. The coolness of the room and your arousal instantly perked your nipples. Jungkook took your breasts in his hands, massaging and squeezing them, making you arch your back ever so slightly. Then, he dipped his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth while remaining to massage the other. 
The sensation was simply divine. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system, your feelings for your best friend, or just Jungkook in general that made you feel so good at that moment. Your hands traced the outline of his toned biceps through his thin polo. 
You were so wet and when Jungkook began to grind his hard cock against your clothed cunt, you felt another wave of wetness. You wanted him—all of him—and so you began to rock your hips against him, making him release a moan. 
He lifted his head, staring at you with those doe eyes you have loved for seven years. “Are you sure?” 
Those three words held so much. Once you crossed the line, there was no going back, and both of you knew that. 
“I’m sure. I want this, Guk. I want you.” 
That was all he needed to hear to make love to you the whole night. Once both of you came, Jungkook laid beside you, chest heaving. For a while, the both of you lay in silence. 
“Will you be here in the morning?” you asked, turning your head on the pillow to face him. 
He did the same. “I will,” he promised. “Go to sleep now, Sola.” 
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But he wasn’t. 
When you woke up the next day, the other side of the bed was empty. You sat up, burying your face in your hands. What the hell have I done? What the hell have we done? 
You left the bed, entering the bathroom, and proceeding to take a shower. In there, you cried, because nothing was going to be the same after last night. You couldn’t blame it all on Jungkook either. You also made it happen. You desperately wished it was just a dream—another wet dream you had of your best friend—but the traces of his cum were still on your inner thigh. 
It happened. There was no going back. Everything was going to be different now and most of all, you didn’t know if you still had your best friend. 
When you finished showering and getting dressed, you made your way down to the beach. You had texted Mingyu while getting dressed and he told you he was there with the chinito you saw him with, Wonwoo. Arriving at the beach, you pulled your phone out of your back pocket, about to text the honey-skinned med student when you saw Jungkook with Areum in the water, his strong arms that held you throughout the night, now wrapped around her waist. Fits of giggles escaped her lips as Jungkook wrestled with her in the water, a huge grin on his handsome face. 
Your heart shattered. 
You quickly looked away, a fresh set of tears forming in your eyes. As you were about to turn away, you heard Mingyu’s familiar voice which caused you to stop on your tracks. 
“Sola, hey, there you—what’s wrong?” The concern in his voice was palpable. You felt his arm around your shoulder as he pulled you closer to him. 
“I—I finally told him, Gyu,” you said, taking in a sharp shaky breath. “I finally told him.” 
Mingyu didn’t ask for more details. He knew. He led you back to your room, promising Wonwoo to text him later. Once you were back, you just cried on his shoulder. He didn’t say anything and neither did you. He just let you be until the tears finally stopped. 
“I’m sorry I pulled you away from Wonwoo. He seems like a nice guy,” you said after a while, voice raspy from all the crying. 
“It’s fine. We’ll be seeing each other often anyway,” Mingyu shared. 
You looked at him, surprised. “Really?” 
Your friend nodded, laughing to himself. “You know, all those times I teased you about your being a hopeless romantic and believing in love—I think it’s backfiring on me now with Wonwoo.” 
“You love him?” you asked. 
“I don’t know, Sola. But I know what I feel for him is different,” he answered. “It’s terrifying. How quickly someone can change your perspective on something.” 
You couldn’t argue with that. 
“What’s your plan now?” Mingyu asked. 
You sighed deeply. “I think I’m going to head back. My graduation is tomorrow anyway. Do you mind booking the bus ride home?” 
“I’m staying here, Sola. I—I want to be with Wonwoo more,” Mingyu confessed, smiling at you apologetically. 
“Gyu…” 
“Please be a friend to me now, Sola.” 
You pressed your lips tightly. Then, you nodded. You wanted your friend to be happy. 
“I’m gonna pack now,” you announced. 
“Okay. Just text me if you need anything,” Mingyu gave you a hug and kiss on top of your head. “I want you to know I’m proud of you, Sola.” 
Once Mingyu left, you began to pack. You didn’t bring a lot of clothes, but you were still biding your time. A part of you didn’t want to leave. You wanted to stay here and never graduate. But that illusion was quickly broken when you saw your mom’s contact flashing on your phone screen. 
You sucked your teeth before answering, “Hi mom.” 
“Sola? Where the hell are you? Why haven’t you been answering my texts? Your graduation is tomorrow. Everyone is looking forward to it!” she exclaimed frantically. 
“Mom, I’m sorry. I’m in La Union with Jungkook and—,” 
“What the hell are you doing in La Union?! You better get back instantly, Sola. I’m not kidding. If you don’t graduate now, I really don’t know what I’m gonna do. It’s been seven years! Please let me graduate too.” 
“I’m already packing and I’ll catch the bus home soon. I just—Mom, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it in time for the ceremony ‘cos—,” 
Your phone was suddenly snatched from your grip. You looked up and saw Jungkook standing beside you. 
“Hey tita, it’s Jungkook. Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll take her home. She’ll make it in time. Yes. We’ll be home before the ceremony, tita. Okay. Bye.” 
He ended the call and sat down on the bed across from you, handing you your phone back. You grabbed it from him. “You don’t have to take me home.” 
“I already promised tita I will,” he answered. 
“You didn’t have to,” you muttered, folding your shirt. 
Silence. Jungkook was just staring at you the entire time as you folded your clothes and packed them inside your bag. Then, he said those two words. 
“I’m sorry.” 
You bit the inside of your lower lip. What was he exactly for? For having sex with you? For spending the night with you? For not feeling the same way as you? All of the above? 
As if reading your thoughts, he added, “For everything.” 
You nodded. “You don’t have to apologize for anything,” you told him. “It’s not your fault you don’t love me the same way.” But why did you kiss me? Why did you make love to me? 
Jungkook lowered his head. You zipped your bag. “Let’s go. I still have a graduation to chase.” 
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“What’s this?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed when you saw Areum standing beside Jungkook’s car with her luggage and bag. 
“I’ll drop Areum on the way,” Jungkook announced, grabbing her luggage and putting it at the back of his car. 
You pressed your lips in a line. “Fine.” You stepped into the back passenger seat, quickly grabbing your phone and earphones from your bag, and plugging it in. 
Lowering yourself on the seat, you rested your head against the window as Areum stepped into the passenger seat while Jungkook sat on the driver’s seat. You caught him glancing at you from the corner of your eyes, but you didn’t look back. Instead, you turned the volume up. Moments later, he began to drive. 
You decided to sleep the entire ride. However, when you woke up, you immediately realized Jungkook wasn’t driving in your hometown. “Where are we?” you asked, taking one of your earphones off. 
“I’m dropping Areum first,” Jungkook replied. 
You frowned. “I’m the one chasing a graduation, remember?” 
“Shh, just go back to sleep. Here,” he threw something at you—your favorite candy, Butterball, landing on your lap. 
You grabbed it, tempted to eat it, but you threw it back at him and went back to sleep. By the time you woke up again, you were at Areum’s house. She turned to look at you, smiling. 
She was really beautiful and kind. You began to feel guilty for hating her so much the entire time. “Congrats on your graduation, Sola. I’ll see you around, okay?” 
“Thanks Areum.” 
After Jungkook walked her to her door, he came back to the car. “What are you doing there? Come here,” he said, patting the passenger seat. 
“I’m fine here,” you replied. 
“Sola, come on. Please? I drive better with you beside me.” 
For the rest of the ride to your home, you sat beside Jungkook. Unlike before, where your car rides were filled with music and random conversations, tonight it was silent. You didn’t plug your phone into his stereo and you kept your eyes closed the whole time, listening to your music. Once in a while, Jungkook would try to make small talk, but you would only give him short replies, then went back to sleeping. 
When you arrived at your family house, you stayed with Jungkook outside for a bit, both leaning against his car. 
“It’s your graduation in four hours.” 
“Are you not going to come to yours?” 
“I don’t see the point,” Jungkook replied. 
You nodded and pushed yourself off his car. “I’ll head inside. Thanks for the ride, Jungkook.” 
He grabbed your arm before you entered the gate. You stared into his eyes. You couldn’t quite place what held them right now. Maybe you never really knew Jeon Jungkook after all this time. 
“I’m sorry, Sola.” 
“Why do you keep saying sorry? I told you—it’s not your fault and I’m fine. I’m over it now. See you around, Jungkook.” 
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You head back inside. Graduation was in four hours. 
You wore a traditional Filipiniana dress, a pair of white heels that were already scraping the skin at the back of your feet, your mother’s pearls, and your sablay when your name was called. You came up on the stage with your excited mother, shook hands with your Dean, and finally grabbed your diploma. You always imagined graduation to be something so spectacular, but the moment you received the piece of paper that confirmed you had, indeed, graduated—you just felt the same. 
After the ceremony, you went back to your house where almost all your relatives from your mother’s side were waiting for you. A tarpaulin with your graduation picture and the words, “Congratulations Yu Sola!” printed on it and hung outside your gate. You greeted everyone on your way, telling them thanks, before retreating in your room to change out of your dress and into more comfortable clothes. 
While you were slipping on your shirt, your phone buzzed on your nightstand. When you grabbed it, you saw Jungkook’s message on the lockscreen. 
Let’s go, it said. 
You knew it meant one thing: a beer and butterball at Route 96. There was still a part of you that wanted to go because you always went when you received a message like that from Jungkook. It was always a yes when it came to him. But now that you confessed, something shifted, whether he admitted to it himself or not. 
So, you put your phone in your pocket, and went down. But as you do so, you felt your phone vibrate again. You pulled it out of your pocket and Jungkook texted you another message. 
Please? One for the road. I’m outside. 
You bit your lower lip. Then, you made your way out. There, you saw Jungkook wearing his barong and sablay, leaning against his car like hours ago. He smiled as soon as he saw you come out. 
“You still have it,” he pointed to your shirt. 
You looked down on it and realized you had picked his shirt of all things. It wasn’t anything special; just something he bought at a boutique. But it meant a lot to you because he gave it to you after you spilled beer on your shirt years ago. 
“You attended your ceremony?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. He nodded. “I thought you didn’t see the point.” 
“I changed my mind.” 
You wished you were just as quick in having a change of heart. 
“One for the road?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. 
You took a deep breath and nodded. “One for the road.” 
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“Shit, I forgot it’s Sunday. It’s closed,” Jungkook sighed, seeing the steel gate at Route 96. 
“It’s fine. Let’s just go,” you told him, grabbing the beer he bought beforehand and making your way up to the bar. Jungkook followed behind. 
You both leaned in the railing before you, beer in hands. Another silence. 
You couldn’t believe this was the culmination of the seven years you spent loving Jeon Jungkook. You thought, after confessing, you would never speak again. He’d distance himself from you but here you were—having a beer with him at your favorite place in the world. You wished you knew what was going on in his mind right now. You wished you could dissect his mind and learn every thought he had ever since you confessed. 
Because you never really knew Jeon Jungkook. You were just so in love with him and idealized who he was over the last seven years. Suddenly, all the stupid memories you shared with Mingyu flashed in your mind and made you laugh. 
“What’s funny?” Jungkook asked, chuckling. 
You shook your head, drinking your beer. “Nothing.” 
He nudged your side. “Come on, share it.” 
You took a deep breath and for the first time, you looked at Jeon Jungkook and saw him for who he was; not the man you have loved for the past seven years. 
“I graduated, finally.” 
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↪˚ author’s note: if you want to donate to me via kofi or gcash <33 i would appreciate it a lot. thank you & see you in more fics later on.
↪˚ permanent taglist: @whoa-jo @kookieandjoonberries
all rights reserved. 2024. belovedguk.
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phoward89 · 5 months ago
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Based on this ask
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Coryo x Big Booty!Reader, Smut, p in v, creampie, cussing, breeding kink, Dom!Coriolanus
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Coriolanus Snow has classic tastes when it comes to his life. He has a sophisticated image, so of course he wears gold rings on his hands; never silver. Full Windsor knots in his satin ties, custom 3-piece suits made with only the finest material, and fine dress shirts that have to be starched. He wears cufflinks and all of his shoes are floor shines with 3 or 4 inch heels (because Coriolanus' 6ft frame needs to be even more intimidating so he can tower over everyone that's beneath him). His taste in food is classic, but upscale as well.
And when it comes to women, well, his taste is classic when it comes to that as well. T&A does it for him.
Coriolanus Snow’s a tits and ass man. The bigger the better too. And when he started dating you, well his classic tastes were definitely filled.
You're, in his opinion, the whole package. To Coriolanus, you're so beautiful both inside and out. You have a personality that just pulls him in. You keep him engaged and on his toes with conversations. But your physical appearance is what attracted him to you in the first place. Your curves make his mouth water. Nice tits and a nice big ass, just what he likes.
And your big booty is something that he loves. Seriously, Coriolanus can't get enough of it. And watching you sitting at your vanity in nothing but a white bra and panty set, hair up in rollers while doing your makeup for the dinner he's taking you tonight as his plus one makes him grin. Your white lace edged panties cling to your big booty just right and the way your plump ass sits on your vanity bench has Coriolanus mentally swearing to have you fuck him in his favorite position tonight when you get home from the dinner the University’s hosting for the Political Science majors of the Senior Class of 14 ADD (After Dark Days).
“Are you wearing the pearl jewelry set I got you for your birthday, Peaches?” Coriolanus asks you, buttoning up his crisp white dress shirt as he stands by his dresser- which has jewelry box open with his various cuff links (including pearl ones) and his chunky gold rings in it.
“Yes, Coryo.” You nod. Lightly dabbing your blending sponge on your face, you tell your boyfriend, “I’m wearing them; thought they'd look nice with my dress.”
Your dress is a strappy white gown that's form fitting. A dress that's hanging up on the door of your side of the walkin closet.
“I thought they'd pair nicely with your dress as well, my darling.” Coriolanus remarks while grabbing his pearl cuff links from his jewelry box and putting them on. “How much longer til you're ready, Y/N?” Your boyfriend asks, walking into thw walkin closet to grab and put on his dark maroon and white stripe vest and its matching dark maroon dinner jacket.
“Not long; maybe 15-20 minutes.” You assure him as he finishes getting dressed.
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Coriolanus loves how sweet your booty looks with your clothes hugging it just right. He's always smacking it or grabbing it- a result of loving that big booty of yours. Whether it's in the privacy of his penthouse, that he moved you into, or out in public. He doesn't care, he just wants to feel your perfectly peachy ass in his hands.
But when he grabs your ass in public it's sometimes embarrassing.
Like tonight, his large hand keeps sliding south off of the small of your back to rest right on your plump ass. An ass that he loves, that he thinks looks perfect in the white dress you're wearing tonight for the formal dinner he's attending with you as his plus one. But it's not appropriate in the pre-dinner party cocktail setting, so you have to keep dragging his hand up and off your ass.
Despite standing around and talking to various people (high ranking people might you add since everyone at this dinner whether they're a professor, student, or plus one is a somebody in Capitolite high society- your own boyfriend included) Coriolanus has no shame and keeps grabbing your ass. It's very annoying. You even give him a slight side-eyed look, silently telling him to stop it. But your boyfriend has not shame; Coriolanus just gives you a loving smirk only to slide his hand back down to grab your ass again.
“You're gonna be my good lil cowgirl tonight, Peaches.” Coriolanus whispers into your ear, his baritone dark and lustful, while giving your butt a light squeeze as his friend Festus Creed along with his longtime girlfriend Persephone Price head their way over to you and your future political star boyfriend.
And you knew what he meant by his remark. He wanted you to fuck him in reverse cowgirl tonight so he can oogle and smack your ass. Oh, how his whispered promise of the night’s future events had your panties dampening.
Damn him.
Now you're stuck with wet panties all throughout tonight's long drawn out dinner. That bastard. Coryo always knows how to get to you.
And he knows the longer you're stuck in wet panties for the more desperate you'll be to fuck yourself on his cock once you get out of those panties.
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What Coriolanus loves more then anything in the world is to stare at your plump, perfect ass while you ride him reverse cowgirl when you're fucking. Yep, he loves to watch your ass jiggle as you take him deep while bouncing quickly on his cock. It's one of his favorite positions for you to fuck in.
“Fuck. Your ass is so fine, Peaches.” Coryo groans as you quickly ride him, pushing your body quickly up and down while facing the foot of the bed. You're gripping his thighs in your hands, your nails digging into the skin of his sinewy muscles, as your knees frame his hip bones. “Yea, that's it baby girl, make that big ass jiggle for your man.” The platinum blonde orders, his deep baritone thick and husky, as his icy eyes are glued to your large, sweet ass cheeks as they bounce up and down as your tight cunt quickly takes his large cock in and out, in and out at a pleasurable pace.
Looking over your shoulder at your disheveled boyfriend, you give him a sultry smile. “You never get tired of watching my big booty as I ride you, huh?”
“Oh, Peaches, I told you when we first got together that I'm a tits and ass man; that the bigger the better.” Your boyfriend smirks. Reaching a hand forward, he grabs your ass and groans, “Your ass is perfect and it's all mine.” Giving your ass a hard smack, that echoed throughout the room and mingled with the led wet sound of your pussy fucking Coryo's cock, the platinum blonde orders, “Tell me your ass belongs to me, Y/N. Say it, Peaches, or you're not cumming tonight.”
And you know he means it. If you don't tell your possessive and obsessive boyfriend what he wants to hear that he'll take over, fuck you til he cums, and will leave you high and dry. He's done it before early on on your relationship when you played stubborn and didn't summit to him. But you learned your lesson; now you summit even if you don't want to.
It's all just dirty bedroom talk, right?
Coryo doesn't actually think that your ass belongs to him, does he?
No.
No, he can't.
He can't be that possessive and obsessive towards you, can he?
No, it's just bedroom talk. Dirty talk that gets him off.
“My ass belongs to you and only you, Coryo.” You tell your boyfriend in a high pitch mewl as the tip of his cock bruises your cervix; sending shockwaves of pleasure up and down your spine.
“Goddamnit, I love your ass.” Coriolanus confesses, his tone tight and husky. Smacking your ass again, he orders, “Go on, fuck yourself fast and hard on my cock til we cum.”
Coryo didn't have to tell you twice.
You use the grip on his thighs as leverage, helping your upper body control your faster than lighting movements. Quickly, you impale yourself on your boyfriend's large cock- letting out whines and whimpers every time your special spongy spot deep inside of you gets hit just right by the large cock that's stretching your cunt open wide. Sweat rolls down your brow as mewls of pleasure escape your lips. With every move you make your pussy clenches; pushing you closer to your orgasm.
Coriolanus is loudly groaning out, “Fuck, baby.”, while watching your ass bounce up and down just right. His baby blues are blown black by lust and they're transfixed on your ass jiggling quickly. “Fuck, Peaches, I'm gonna cum soon.” Your boyfriend forewarns you of his upcoming orgasm. Grabbing your ass cheeks in each of his large hands, he uses his strength to slam you up and down his twitching cock at a punishing force.
“Coryo…I'm gonna cum.” You moan, nearly toppling over from the brute force of your boyfriend moving you to fuck his cock as if you're nothing more then his personal fuckdoll. The only reason you're not face first between your boyfriends spread eagle legs is because of the tight hold you have around his thighs- nails digging in so deeply that crimson’s trickling down the pale skin.
“Go on and cum, Peaches.” Coryo orders before groaning, “Cum so I can fill ya up with my seed; knock ya up.”
His husky words sends a jolt right to your aching cunt and suddenly you're cumming with a loud moan that's only one word: Coryo.
Coriolanus doesn't let you ride out your high gracefully. No. I stead, he slams you down even harder on his cock. His cum heavy balls begin to tighten up as he tells you, “You're gonna look so beautiful knocked up with my heir. Can't wait to see your tits and ass grow along with your belly swelling with our child.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Your boyfriend curses before shooting a thick rope of his hot seed into your womb. Your name falls from his lips as he cums.
He pushes you forward, causes your butt to jiggle in his hands. Coryo smiles, his eyes shining with lazy lust, as he watches his cum slowly leak from your clenching, tight, abused hole like perfect pearls. Pulling you up to lay next to him, Coriolanus adjusts the two of you to cuddle so that his head rests on your tits while his hand holds your ass.
The two things on you that he absolutely loves; that attracted him to ask you out- causing him to fall obsessively, possessively, and madly in love with you.
Your tits and ass.
But if you ask him what he prefers on you, Coryo will honestly answer that he loves your large ass. Without a doubt, it's your big booty that really does it for him.
After all, he did give you the nickname Peaches because of his undying love for that big booty of yours. An ass that he thinks is the sweetest peach in all of Panem.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @lady-harvey @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress
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roosterforme · 9 months ago
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Smarter Than the Average Beer Boy | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader
Summary: After months of attending your lectures, Bradley has honed his math skills beyond his wildest expectations. A night out with the boys reveals just how smart and endearing your husband really is, even when he has a hangover.
Warnings: Swears, fluff, drinking, oral sex, shirtless Beer Boy, 18+
Length: 3100 words
Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)
Happy birthday to @cherrycola27!
This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Banner by @thedroneranger Check out my masterlist
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You were on your way to teach your last class of the day, and it was your least favorite one. When the class schedules were being organized for next semester, you planned on begging Dr. Rosenthal to let you trade this awful linear algebra class away for one of his calculus lectures. Because at least calculus was something to which you could add a little spice to keep your students interested, unlike this one.
Even though you already ate the snack your husband packed in your tie dye lunchbox, you were still hungry. You'd have to remind him to pack you something extra next Thursday. But as you were on your way to the lounge to quickly get something from the vending machine, you heard his voice. 
"Sugar."
You spun around in your loafers and tweed skirt and saw your husband in full khaki uniform heading your way. "Beer Boy. What are you doing here?" you asked, giving up on the idea of a snack and heading in his direction instead. "I'm about to give a lecture."
"I know," he said with a smirk, voice all deep and raspy. "I got dismissed early, and I stopped at home to get you a snack. Thought maybe I could join your lecture tonight since I won't get to spend tomorrow evening with you."
You almost dropped your notebook as you wrapped your arms around his waist and propped your chin on his chest. "Are you my snack?" you asked as he leaned down to kiss you.
"Nor exactly," he laughed, holding up two small containers. "I brought you some homemade hummus and pita chips. But if you want to skip your lecture and head up to your office, I'd be more than happy to fuck you while I feed you."
"Tempting," you told him with a moan. He was always so sure of himself when he was with you, and it was a massive turn on. But when he grinned and started pulling you toward the elevators, you had to dig your loafers in. "I can't let my students down," you said with a little pout. "Come on. You can sit in the back and take notes."
"Nah. I'll just watch my hot wife in action. Take some mental notes that I can think about at the bachelor party tomorrow night."
You rolled your eyes as you took the containers from him. "You'll have so much fun with Jake and the boys, you won't even be thinking about me at all."
"Newsflash, Dr. Sugar," he whispered as you entered the lecture hall with his hand on your butt. "I'm always thinking about you."
-----------------------
Yes, it was fun watching you work. Your lectures were informative, and you were very passionate about the subject. You were also gorgeous, and Bradley wouldn't mind watching you do this all day long. And sure, he loved that you wrote a few problems on the board for your students to work through so you could eat the hummus and pita chips he brought. And yeah, he squirmed a bit in his seat when you winked at him from the podium as you licked your fingertip. 
But the really interesting thing was the fact that Bradley was getting pretty fucking good at math now. If he could go back to undergrad studies, he might even choose it as his major instead of political science. Nobody ever really encouraged him to show off his smarts after his mom died. Well, besides you. There was something about the way you always recognized that he was intelligent that made him fall even harder for you. And since he knew what it felt like to live without you for ten years, he didn't mind watching you teach the same classes over and over. He just wanted to be around you.
When you asked if there were any volunteers to work through the problem, Bradley was able to follow every detail and come up with the correct answer from his seat. And when you finally ended the class, he went up to the front of the room and kissed your cheek right in front of the straggling students. "Any chance you can bring one of the homework sheets home for me to work on later this weekend?" he asked, stealing your last pita chip.
You looked up at him with adoring eyes, and it wasn't fair, because you knew what those little tweed skirts did to him. "You're really going to work on a problem set?" 
"Yeah," he told you with a shrug. "Why not? This class was fun, and maybe you can check my answers and reward me?" he asked hopefully. 
"If you want to be my top student, you better get them all correct." You ran your fingers along the front of his khakis as you picked up your notebook and started walking away.
"I'll be so good, Baby," he promised as he followed you out. He was planning on working on the problems on Sunday after he spent all day Saturday recovering from Jake's bachelor party. Tomorrow night was for the boys, but tonight he would be spending with you. 
When he got you home, he boiled a pot of water for some of the homemade pasta he made and dried last weekend, and he started heating up some of his homemade sauce and meatballs. "This is so fucking sexy," you whispered, rubbing up on him in your tweed while you sipped a beer. "You are really good at feeding me."
He stole the bottle and drank some. "You're really good at everything else." When he tried to hand it back, you just shook your head and dropped slowly to your knees. He was already a little hard from all the tweed rubbing, but then you kissed his zipper, and his dick responded immediately. "Look at that. I didn't even have to do the math problems."
You grinned up at him while he sipped the beer. "Maybe this is just a little reminder for you to be good tomorrow night when you're out with the boys. No drinking and driving. No letting them get into fights. No playing beer pong without me. If you're good, then there's more where this came from."
Bradley was really enjoying the cold beer as you undid his belt and button before you eased his zipper down. "I'll be so good. I'm a hundred percent domesticated."
You moaned as his cock sprang free, and you rubbed your face against him. "I know." He was about to tell you he'd been that way since the two of you were college seniors, but suddenly all coherent thoughts left his brain. You were gently kissing his balls as you ran your fingers up underneath his shirt and teased his abs. "You're a very good boy."
His cock was throbbing and tapping you on the cheek as your tongue flicked out to taste him. "Sugar," he grunted before sipping the beer again. 
"Hmm." You were looking up at him as your lips barely met his skin. "What should I do with you?" Somehow you were making Bradley feel submissive even though you were on your knees for him, and he tipped his head back and groaned.
"Fuck me up, Sugar."
"Gladly," you replied, and he felt your tongue draw a slow and steady line from his tight balls all the way to the head of his cock. Bradley watched as you took the very tip of his bouncing length between your pretty lips. All you did was hold eye contact as you sucked on him like he was a piece of candy, your fingers tickling the trail of hair below his belly button, and he was mesmerized. 
"Those pouty lips will be the death of me," he whispered before sipping the beer again. "So fucking pretty." You sucked on him a little harder, and he clenched. Damn, you hadn't even taken him deep yet, and he was already eager. But he didn't care, because you already knew what you did to him.
Then you popped him free, rubbed your nose against his trimmed pubes before kissing his tip and said, "I love you." Then you grabbed him by the hips and let him slide all the way so he was tapping the back of your throat. 
"Oh, fuck," he grunted, already thinking about you gagging on his cum. You shook your head slightly when he was deep, and tears filled your eyes as you sucked. Bradley gripped the bottle, his voice only a harsh whisper as he said, "That's it. That's it. Fuck."
A few more deep thrusts had you struggling, which was honestly so fucking hot to him. You were making desperate little sounds, but you bobbed on him until you gagged. And that's really all it took.
You moaned as he filled your mouth, and he ran his thumb along your cheek as you gently sucked every drop from him. "Show it to me," he whispered softly and you smiled as you released him. Slowly, you parted your lips and tilted your face up for him, showing off your cupped tongue full of his cum. "Beautiful."
Then you swallowed him down and kissed his drained balls once more before you stood and took the beer bottle from his hand. Casually, you took a sip like you didn't just leave him twitching before you. "Is dinner almost ready?"
He was still thinking about it the next night when he was out with all the guys. Jake was marrying Jessica in a month, and all he asked for was a night of bar hopping. Normally Bradley would have been very good at this, but he was thinking about the way he'd fed you bites of pasta while standing in the kitchen as you moaned over how delicious it was. 
"Come on, Rooster, have a shot," Payback said, passing him some tequila. Just a few drinks would help him focus on the night with the guys. "Bottoms up." 
But at first, the drinks just made him think about calling you to see what you were up to. Jessica was supposed to stop by the house to hang out for a while, and he wondered if she was still there. Maybe she left and you were already changed into his Grateful Dead shirt for bed. Maybe he could just get an Uber right now and go home and find out for himself. He'd slip right into bed next to you. 
"Time for the karaoke bar!" Javy announced, and then Bradley had more shots in front of him before he ended up onstage, and he couldn't be sure where his shirt went, but oh well, it didn't really matter since his favorite shirt was at home with you, and it was suddenly time to sing. 
But he did remember to text you and let you know he'd be home very late.
-------------------------
Having the empty house to yourself felt a bit like it did when Bradley was deployed. So in that respect, it made you a little antsy. But on the other hand, it was peaceful when you had Jessica over for some snacks and a glass of wine. It was close to midnight when a bunch of photos came through to your phone and hers. 
"Oh no," she groaned as you scrolled through the images from Mickey. It appeared as though Bradley lost his shirt. Typical. 
"They are a mess," you muttered, finally getting to one where the guys were physically holding Jake up. "You're going to have your work cut out for you tomorrow."
She shook her head but laughed. "I think I'll head home and wait for him. I don't know if he'll even be able to make it from the front door to the bedroom without help."
"Bradley doesn't look much better," you added as you got to the last photo where he was chugging a beer, the amber liquid dribbling down his neck and bare chest. "Oh Lord."
"Call me tomorrow and let me know how bad it is?"
"Yeah," you agreed, walking her to the door and giving her a hug. 
And then you were met with silence again. You changed into Bradley's tie dye shirt and his robe that he'd had since college, but you weren't even slightly tired now. You glanced across the hallway to your office door covered in your own handwriting. 
SUGAR LOVES BEER BOY
Working through an advanced calculus problem before bed would definitely help you unwind. You walked to your white board while you looked up a problem on your phone and then scribbled it down and got to work. Oh, this one was a bit tricky with lots of side math to complete first. The squeak of your marker was soothing, and by the time you got to your tenth line in the proof solution, you were yawning.
"Works like a charm," you muttered, capping the marker and heading back across the hall where you climbed into bed. 
At one point during the night, you thought you heard Bradley stumble in the front door. "Beer Boy?" you called out, rolling over in bed.
You heard him slur, "It's just me, Sugar," followed by the sound of the refrigerator opening up. He'd come to bed eventually after he got a snack. You scooted back all the way to your side, preemptively trying to avoid him being a sticky, sweaty mess. You smiled and curled up, and you were back to sleep in seconds. 
But he never did come to bed, as evidenced by the still crisp bedding on his side when you woke up again at nine. You stretched and climbed out from the pocket of warmth and reached for his robe before you went to search the house. 
You started in the kitchen, thinking that being near the refrigerator might have been more appealing than the bed, but he wasn't there. You glanced out back and on the living room couch, but you didn't see him anywhere. 
"Bradley?" you called out as you looked in the bathroom, but he hadn't even fallen asleep in the tub. You pressed your lips together as you poked your head inside your office and gasped. "Seriously?"
He was sound asleep on the floor, his shirt nowhere to be seen, and he was snoring loudly. An empty ice cream carton and spoon were next to his head, and it looked like he'd eaten a value sized bag of pretzels. There were a few more wrappers and a lot of crumbs on the floor, and you just gaped at him as he started to roll onto his side and look around.
"What the fuck? Why is it such a mess in here? I just cleaned on Wednesday," he groaned, hair sticking up at every angle. He tilted his head and looked up at you through squinted eyes. "What happened?"
You gave him an incredulous look. "Why don't you tell me?"
He continued to look around the room as he sat up. "I don't know," he replied, pushing the pretzel bag to the side as he cradled his forehead in his palm. "Last thing I remember is the guys making me sing Caress Me Down for karaoke. Where's my shirt?"
Your deep sigh should have been warning enough for him, but he looked down at his abs, shocked that he was only wearing half of his outfit. "Once again, Bradley, why don't you tell me?"
"Baby, how am I supposed to know?" he whined. "God, now I have a fucking hangover, and I can't think."
If Jake was also this bad at the moment, then Jessica might need a reassuring phone call later. Hopefully he hadn't destroyed the carpet in their condo. You needed to get Bradley into the shower and then put him in bed so you could clean up the floor, but your eyes caught on your white board, and you gasped. "Bradley."
"What now?" he moaned as he got to his hands and knees in the crumbs. "My head is throbbing."
Your eyes skimmed from the top of the board to the very bottom, and you started laughing. He was looking up at you, confusion swirling along his handsome features as you had to brace your hands on your knees while you gasped for air and cackled. "Beer Boy!"
"Okay, yes," he grunted. "I'm beginning to think I was actually the one who made the mess in here, but I'll clean it up. It's not that funny."
"Bradley!" you screeched, pointing to the board. "You solved my advanced calculus problem!"
Slowly and seemingly painfully, he turned his head to look and crawled closer to the wall. "I don't think so," he muttered. "I don't even know what all of that means." He was standing on his knees, and trying so hard to figure it out. "Holy shit, that's my handwriting."
"It definitely is," you said through your laughter as you gently combed your fingers through his messy hair. He practically melted against your leg with his big hand on your thigh below his robe. "I am... somehow really impressed by this? You got drunk, got a ride home at four in the morning, and then you solved an advanced math problem before you passed out on my office floor."
"Yeah, I'm impressive as hell," he whispered, kissing you through the robe fabric. 
"You know... if you weren't so terribly hungover, I'd offer to blow you again like yesterday. Because this is something only my very best student would be able to do. And I love rewarding my best student." 
You stroked his cheek softly with your knuckles as he stared up at you with parted lips. "Professor Sugar," he rasped. "I'm totally fine. Barely hungover at all."
"Are you sure?" you laughed. "You look a little rough. And you made a huge mess."
"Yeah," he replied immediately. "I'm great. Wanna join me in the shower?"
You bent to kiss his forehead and whispered, "If you think you can handle it."
"Hell yes," he groaned, trying three times before he was able to get to his feet. Then he took you by the hand, and you helped him down the hallway to the bathroom. 
You pointed out the small closet on the way. "And when we're done, the vacuum cleaner is just hanging out right in there, waiting for you to clean up my office."
"Yeah, okay."
------------------------
Happy birthday, Nik! When you mentioned this idea, it had me cracking up. I hope you enjoy it as a birthday gift one day early! Thanks @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls and @thedroneranger
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ms-demeanor · 1 year ago
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It's really hard to take my classes seriously when it is so staggeringly obvious that a lot of the professors don't take them seriously.
It's possible to get at least 95% in my C# class without ever opening the book or doing any of the actual programming exercises. The whole thing is based on quiz scores and you can take the quizzes an unlimited number of times and it shows you the correct answers after every attempt and then asks you the exact same questions - it doesn't even scramble up the multiple choice options between attempts. My professor isn't even using their own material. All the lectures were recorded by a different professor, who also wrote the quizzes.
The last assignment my art teacher graded was turned in over 2 months ago. It was still summer when I did that assignment. We only have 13 students in the class and it's not like the professor is reading essays or writing long comments on the work. They have only graded *checks notes* two of the eight assignments we've turned in. All of the lectures were filmed in 2020, as has been the case with lectures in nearly all of my online classes (programming lectures were filmed in 2018, and I don't know if that's better or worse).
These professors are more checked out than the students and it's tremendously demotivating.
A huge number of my classes have had quizzes and exams where all the questions were pulled verbatim from the textbook with no references to lectures. The answers can all be found on "study" sites because the professors didn't even bother to reword them. One of my classes was a political science class in winter of 2022 that asked "how many US presidents have been impeached?" And the "correct" answer was 2.
I hope my school just sucks. I really hope it isn't like this everywhere. Not even all of my classes are like this, but probably 60% of them are like this and it is making me nuts.
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sissa-arrows · 8 months ago
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Not a Zionist group lying about one of their members being kept out of a student reunion in Science Po Paris because she is Jewish… that she was told “You’re not getting in because you’re Jewish and Zionist”
The government jumped on it immediately calling pro Palestinians antisemitic monsters. Attal actually referred to the prosecutor in order to condemn legally the students for antisemitism.
The girl realized that her lie could have consequences on her own life if it was discovered so she changed her version saying “I actually didn’t hear the word Jewish or Zionist. A friend told me they might have heard someone else say “don’t let her in she is a Zionist”. I actually got in after the initial refusal but I didn’t stay long because the atmosphere was heavy. When I sat the person next to me moved to sit somewhere else I didn’t feel welcome.”
The truth getting out: Zionist students have been getting in these reunions to scream inappropriate stuff, to take pictures and videos of pro Palestinians students to dox them and threaten them and they make a point always screaming or talking loudly during the minutes of silence for the Palestinians who are murdered by “Israel” daily. That girl is a member of a known Zionist Islamophobic group who call everyone antisemitic all the fucking time. She previously came at reunions to take pictures and videos of the people attending. So when the student organizers saw her they told her “this reunion is meant to be peaceful it’s better if you don’t get in”.
Even now that we know the truth beyond any doubt the government is not backing down and the medias are still being super ambiguous about it.
But wanna know the icing on the cake? A pro Palestinian student went on TV to explain what happened. The journalist had the fucking audacity to say “okay but you were OCCUPYING the auditorium and you gave yourself the right to deny entry to certain people which is illegal”. Like REALLY a Zionist is going to have the fucking audacity to pretend to have the moral high ground on pro Palestinians because they “occupied” an auditorium?!?!?! You’re occupying a whole country a land that belongs to Palestinians so screw you.
(The student answered by saying it was the students duty to organize the reunion themselves after the school refused to do so multiple times and after the school refused to protect the pro Palestinians students who were harassed. Anyway that specific interview was a mess and this is the reason why I laugh at their faces whenever my family tells me I should get into politics… because if I had to go on TV and listen to the Zionists, white supremacists… I would end up punching one in the face. Like what do you mean bitch is going to be a racist piece of shit and I have to use only my words? No we’re past educating racists now it’s a punch in the face every time they are pieces of shit until they’re too scared to talk again.)
Edit to add some sources
Source 1 (paywall but you get how it started with a tweet lying about what happened)
Source 2 (the video of the pro Palestinians student I mentioned)
Source 3 (how the Zionist group went on TV to spread their lies)
Source 4 (the government jumping on the situation)
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mixtapedoh · 5 months ago
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and it was all yellow | y.j.
welcome back to SVTU ! lost your way? refer to our campus map for directions.
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pairing: yoon jeonghan x gn!reader with guest appearances from c. seungcheol, h. joshua, w. junhui, and more !
word count: ~5.9k genre: neighbors to friends to lovers warnings: language, intermittent Lore Dumping™ (i have to kick us off into svtu somehow), jeonghan is a little shit, light suggestive themes (heavily lampshaded and perhaps only occuring twice?)
☄. *. ⋆
olive's notes: these individual headcanon sets are going to be very ~stream of consciousness~, so bear with me, here. second, cheol and jeonghan are brothers (and there's a secret third brother i'll introduce eventually, don't you worry), also, thank you for stopping by <3. now here's the content you signed up for.
☄. *. ⋆
now playing... ılı.lıllılı.ıllı. ... ⌜ angel baby — troye sivan ⌟
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AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW ☄. *. ⋆
— it all started when jeonghan realized that jun was loaded.
now, don't get him wrong. it wasn't as though he had befriended jun because jeonghan had been looking for someone rich and easily persuaded. it's not like jeonghan used his ineffable charm to win over the quasi-cryptid that was wen junhui because of jun's apparent legacy funds.
not that jeonghan couldn't have done — he clearly had the persuasion and cunning to do it — he just didn't. jeonghan wasn't in need of someone else's money. please. he was very capable of taking care of himself, thank you very much, he was just also, however, very good at knowing things.
especially those things that could be used to his advantage.
— and well... wen junhui was loaded. wealthy as shit. a classic trust fund baby. a walking dollar sign that just so happened to share classes with jeonghan every year since he started SVTU as a political science major (of arts, of course. he hadn't taken latin in high school to not absolutely crush the romance languages in uni).
— you see, SVTU had this fun little program for long-suffering students interested in the government and manipulating it to their will wherein if you took merger courses — lectures that ate up a hell of a lot of your time and money but gave substantial credit hours that counted for both applied and allied course credit — you could get a jump start on your degree, be offered more opportunities for internship, and explore a subject's "many facets" through "multiple lenses."
to jeonghan, it meant working faster and harder so that he might graduate early and get into the actual politics of pol sci quicker — at a more “genius” and “revolutionary” age.
(half of politics, after all, was being appealing enough to make headlines. there wasn’t time to waste, in the long run.)
to wen junhui it had to mean something different — after all, jun was a pre-law student with a completely different career path from the other party involved (though jeonghan had considered law at one point in time — something he’s not above admitting though certainly not pining after). merger courses for him likely meant an expedited process to law school. but that was truly beside the point. an aside.
— what mattered in the end, was that jeonghan and jun had more than enough shared merger courses to go around, and in the process of things, had gone from strangers to acquaintances, then study partners (blame it on the fact that jun — the altruistic leaning bastard he was — actually tutored in his free time. willingly. as in, not a joke.) to committed group project members, and eventually to that nebulous thing called friendship.
ask them both when that final stage commenced and you’d get varying responses — jeonghan always far more generous than jun in such regards, but almost annoyingly so, like he wanted to be the one leaning more on the ridiculous.
— yes, it was quite a ways into their friendship when jeonghan learned that wen junhui, his sweet jun, was loaded. like, living alone off of campus in his own two bedroom apartment on the wealthy side of the city that prospered from the University Living Aesthetic™, loaded. as in, so loaded he could have easily found more than enough willing bodies to become roommates with him and help pay for the exorbitant expenses but simply decided against it because he hadn’t, and i quote “thought about it before.”
“never thought about it? jun. how much does this place cost?”
and jun had to think for a minute. genuinely think about how much he paid in monthly rent. “i suppose for a month’s rent i pay around… [REDACTED].”
and jeonghan was no stranger to dramatics, to be sure, but anyone else would have gaped the same as him. “[REDACTED]??”
"[REDACTED]."
"...shit."
— yes, jeonghan finding out that jun was loaded, living in a (rather well kept) apartment with an empty room, no roommates, and an assortment of (dying) houseplants that needed care, was truly the beginning of it all.
— after all, while the chaos settled in a year after the fact when he and joshua would finally move in with jun because of circumstances that aren't truly relevant to the here and now, all true origins start a little before dramatic changes. there's always a gentle precursor, something soft that sets the stage. rumblings of change are necessary forefathers to the strength of revolution; jeonghan learning that jun was a walking line of credit with property to his name and a work ethic that would make any professor blush was necessary groundwork for the events that would follow.
and goddamn, if things didn't follow.
— but i suppose, if we're back tracking all the way to jeonghan and shua moving in with jun on one very ill timed sunday (jun had an exam in his special topics in deviance, crime, & the law course the next day), we are also brushing up against jeonghan meeting you.
another precursor to the chaos that would follow. another tremor that would shake the ground and cause things to tumble.
— you also lived in the terraces on 17th and attended svtu. you lived on the same floor as jun — two apartments down from his, no less — and his first week there, you showed jeonghan the campus shuttle routes that passed right outside the complex (he'd come to learn that the domino route was the one you took most often, as it led right to the heart of the university, but the pinwheel route was also a convenient option for evening courses).
— you and jeonghan weren't friends right away. no, you were always a friendly face around the complex and a decent conversationalist when stuck in the elevator together, but it wasn't as though you and jeonghan became fast friends. you were just neighbors for a while; just another person grabbing mail on monday afternoons, stopping at the in-residence coffee shop on bleak wednesday mornings, ordering pizza on saturday evenings and giving joshua a slice after he weaponizes his big, brown eyes.
— and then came The Series of Fire Alarm Mishaps.
— you see, at some point in the middle of the semester, someone new moved into the apartment building, in the same hall as you and jeonghan. at first, you barely even noticed the change, and then they started cooking.
— which wouldn't have been a problem. if they had been good at it.
the first few times the (incredibly loud and not unreasonably sensitive) fire alarms from down the hall had gone off, it had been unfortunate - a mild nuisance that disrupted what jeonghan had been doing, and nothing more. but then, the first few times became multiple, and from multiple, came a pattern. every other day, at least twice, the fire alarm next door would go off. and it would always be at different times - breakfast, the afternoon, early evening, even sometimes at 1:28 in the morning. the fire alarm would sound, and while it would mostly be no longer than a minute or two, it was still enough to be irritating.
you and jeonghan talked about it every time you saw each other in passing, or just so happened to be taking the same shuttle to campus (which happened quite often, anymore, since jeonghan enrolled in an extra course to help him graduate all the sooner). your neighbor and that damn fire alarm. your neighbor and their inability to cook, yet unnecessary dedication to the craft. you both joked about the inevitability of them actually burning the apartment down.
— and then, one day, the fire alarm went off at 2:19, waking jeonghan up out of a dead sleep (he hadn't meant to fall asleep at his desk, and his neck would pay for it all the next day). he heard it, and immediately decided to ignore it, knowing it would stop soon.
but then it didn't.
at about 3.5 minutes of non-stop alarms, jeonghan was annoyed enough that he left his room and staggered into the kitchen for some water, where shua and jun were already waiting around, likely with the same idea (though it was clear that shua hadn't ever fallen asleep, and perhaps jun was in the same boat, though he'd changed into sweats and a light t-shirt).
at about 6 minutes, jeonghan opened the door to see if anyone else was, well... concerned.
and at 13 minutes, he was standing outside in the brisk autumn air, agreeing with jun as he whispered that if there wasn't an actual fire but just their talentless neighbor attempting to cook in the middle of the night, he was going to kill the bastard himself.
— and there, in the middle of all this stupidity — sleepily rocking back and forth from one foot to another — and on the other side of him, was you.
— and, well, when you offered to buy him and the rest of his roommates coffee at the convenience store that was just down the street, not far, he couldn't do much beyond say yes. what was he going to do? decline your offer?
and so all four of you walked to the convenience store and aimlessly wound your way through the almost neon colored aisles. jeonghan used the opportunity to stick to you like glue and get you to open up — about yourself and your roommates, both of whom had gone home for two weeks for (separate) family vacations (not that you were jealous. clearly the superior option was to stay at the apartment, embroiled in course work and standing outside at 2:00 am because of some loser neighbor who can't cook a singular meal without burning the building to the ground, and yet refuses to have anything delivered).
— in the end, the fire hadn't been bigger than something contained in the pan ("thank god," you had said, shaking your hands in lackluster triumph, "i have a physics exam next week. i need those notes more than you know"), but at only 4 months of having a new neighbor, someone new moved in within 2 weeks at most. and, after being neighbors for almost 7 months, you and jeonghan were decidedly friends.
after all, you bought him a triangular gimbap, ice cream, and convenience store coffee. jun had slipped away with just a banana milk (which he promptly paid back the next day), and shua nearly bought out the whole store once the two of you got to talking about the best midnight (and hours after) snacks lining the walls. at the least, he was indebted to you, which could only be solved by more trips to the convenience store with more mindless conversation, and more time for the both of you to endear yourself to the other.
and the way jeonghan saw it, friendship at that point was inevitable. especially when, at the start of the next semester, you and jeonghan both had an early morning class and used the domino route to get to class via campus shuttle.
(and sure, jun had an early class, too, and drove himself to campus everyday, meaning jeonghan could have easily just gotten a ride, but he didn't. for no particular reason, really, he just never did; but one frost bitten morning after a snowstorm, when jeonghan was waiting at the shuttle stop and you stood beside him, bundled up in a thick winter coat and rubbing the tips of your fingers to keep them warm, you turned to him, the cord of the wired headphones the both of you always shared swaying from the movement (a streak of yellow against all this white, the sun in the middle of stark winter), and smiled, "i'm glad you're here with me." and maybe — just maybe — that was reason enough.)
— and thus, for reasons above explained, in the end, it all started with jeonghan learning jun was loaded. if it weren't for that simple knowledge, he wouldn't be anywhere near where he currently stood.
— which was the open doorway of jun's apartment, garbage in hand, falling in love with you.
"what?"
and you at least had the presence of mind to be flustered by it.
jeonghan could laugh, really. "is that my jacket?"
it totally was, and perhaps the way you fiddled with the sleeve of it and scoffed awkwardly, refusing to meet his eyes, was the true giveaway that you knew it most certainly was. "i don't know, is it?"
you were met with smug silence, so of course, you'd elaborate.
"i thought it belonged to my ex. i just chose what looked the warmest. it's storming out there — you might want something more than a sweatshirt if you're taking that all the way to cans." you gestured to the garbage bag — a detail jeonghan had almost forgotten at the sight of you in his clothing.
"you think your ex would have bought that?"
of course he wasn't going to take your bait in changing the subject. that would make things easy. you rolled your eyes, spinning your key ring and making it jingle. "hoseok has great style. it's just different from yours."
"and that jacket is more my style than his."
"it is," you conceded. under jeonghan's gaze you stuck one half of the jacket out, towards him. "do you want it now? you'll need it out there."
"i don't think i will. not when i'll have your sunny presence to warm me."
and for a split second your eyes narrowed. you had just come in from the storm — that much was plain to see from the wet of the jacket to the reusable grocery bag in your hand, full of pantry odds and ends. there was no need to go back out, and you and jeonghan both knew it. and not to mention that the invitation (thinly veiled) was unattractive — stay inside where it was warm or brave the stormy weather once more, all for a garbage run?
"race you to the elevator."
— and see, the truth of the fact was, it wasn't as though you made it difficult to fall in love with you (though even if you had, jeonghan would have liked the challenge, perhaps. there's fun in plenty of things). you were generous, a good conversationalist, you bitched about people with jeonghan but still tried to see the best in them, you were knowledgeable about the most random yet oddly applicable things, and for all of his teasing, you put up with him. perhaps enjoyed him.
— it certainly confused seungcheol, to say the least (but don't such things always confuse brothers).
"as someone who's had a lifetime to cherish your personality, there has to be something wrong with this y/n if they're willingly spending time with you. i'm trying to save my soul, putting up with you on the daily. they have no excuse."
"if i'm going to respond to that, you'll have to give me five minutes to run first."
and it ended with jeonghan quickly pushing away from the table, trying to duck out of seungcheol's grasp; but of course, the older brother and president of the boxing club would get him anyway, and through laughter, attempt to knock some humility into jeonghan (it wouldn't stick).
— but no need to focus on all of that, now. after all, this deep into the semester, jeonghan was busy enough without Crippling Thoughts of Romance.
— the worst damage you wrought thus far was making him choke that day you wandered into karaoke club and he was in the middle of a duet joshuji had managed to cajole him into doing on the spot (you swore up and down that you didn't know he was even in the club to begin with, but something about your flustered behavior and shua's glee at the whole affair made him consider otherwise); while it had been a (minor, he claimed) blow to his pride, it was easily pushed aside. jihoon, the bastard, might bring it up on occasion — the one (1) time angel voice yoon jeonghan chokes, and it's all on camera — but other than that, jeonghan? cool as a cucumber.
the last thing he'd do is be awkward around a crush. jeonghan was cool; jeonghan was suave; jeonghan was speaking in the third person because joshuji had been on a self-love bender a few months back and had said daily affirmations into the mirror every morning, and after finding out and teasing him relentlessly for it, jeonghan unfortunately picked up the habit.
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AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆
— and now that we've gotten this far, i suppose it's time we bring up Jeonghan Habits™ because there were many, the closer you and jeonghan got to each other, strings of fate drawing you ever nearer, joining you at the hip.
— for one, it seemed that ever since that first unfortunately timed run to the convenience store at hours after-midnight, jeonghan felt comfortable just showing up at all odd hours of the evening, all messy hair and too-big hooded sweatshirts (most stolen from seungcheol, he'd reveal to you one day when you were confused as to just when jeonghan had picked up a love of coton de tulear puppy conventions — enough to get a commemoriative sweatshirt, no less), with the oh-so-enticing offer of going to grab a snack.
he even called it a date, once, when you were wrapped up in three blankets and your fuzzy house slippers, weakly try to convince him to just rummage through you're cupboards instead
"you're so cold you're going to cancel our date? and here i thought we had something real."
(you'd been so flustered by the whole exchange you simply ended up going to the with him, hoping that the act of Just Doing It would buy you time against his rapid fire machine gun comebacks — probably exactly what the fucker had planned in his 4d chessboard of a brain — and jeonghan took the opportunity to file away in his mind the cute expression that crossed your face in the split second that the words hit you fully in the chest and you floundered, wide-eyed into recovery)
— another, of course, was his habit of casually leaving things at your place whenever the two of you hung out; the first few times he left something — his jacket, a pair of sunglasses, necklaces that you don't ever quite recall him taking off to begin with — you promptly returned it with the naive belief that it was a one-off mistake not like to happen again. but it just kept happening, and so eventually, you just stopped returning.
if it were important, jeonghan would have texted you about it — he texted you about all kinds of random things, anyway, his lost socks would be no more strange than texts of ootds or how particularly sparkly his eyes looked that day.
and he never did...
until you started to wear the things he left, of course.
'should i get two of these?' the text came in while you were walking to your next class, taking your sweet time since the weather had cleared up nicely and the campus shuttles were running smoothly — not a single one hand been late all week, a sure change from usual. a moment later your phone chimed again, and jeonghan had sent a picture of a silver ring with a greek key styling. it was cool enough, and fit in nicely with jeonghan's usual style of accessory (not that you were particularly knowledgeable of such things... haha.)
'sure, but why 2?'
'so you can have one of your own instead of stealing it.'
'???!?'
'look at your outfit right now. you're wearing MY necklace. it's been missing for weeks.'
'YOU LEFT IT AT *MY* APARTMENT??????'
'you still have necklaces of your own; didn't have to be mine.'
'😑'
'so what's your ring size?'
'stfu'
— in your defense, you didn't think it was an issue, borrowing the things he'd randomly leave at your apartment. it had started off innocuously enough — seonghwa and momo (your roommates, bless them) needed you to go grab a few last minute ingredients for dinner (they were the ones cooking, so charitably you offered to do the grunt work) and when you couldn't find your own sunglasses, there were jeonghan's, just sitting on your dresser and waiting to be used.
and after that, well... jeonghan had nice style, okay? you were not immune to convenient and accessible clothing. if jeonghan wasn't so forgetful of his own articles of clothing, it wouldn't be the case that you steal his favorite sunglasses and borrow his usual rings and get a little too caught up in the way his cologne lingers on his jackets and night shirts, a smell all-too comforting and somehow tempting...
— you attempted to give the necklace back later that week when you and jeonghan met up to take the domino route to university, but he just shrugged it off and told you that you might as well keep it. he already bought himself another.
and besides. it looked good on you.
— and as for the last of Jeonghan's Habits™ (certified and trademarked, of course, everything jeonghan did was protected by common law)... well... the discovery of this one came later, at a time you weren't expecting it, and so perhaps that explains why it makes you as flustered as it does.
— see, it's of no surprise that yoon jeonghan is clingy in a very positive sense.
being friends with jeonghan is always being kept in the loop, having an ongoing dialogue about most everything, doing lot of Things together and always knowing that if there's something you're even thinking of doing, jeonghan has already cleared his schedule in anticipation of going to do said thing alongside you.
— what surprised you, but really shouldn't have (so perhaps the right word is simply astonished, flustered, made giddy by the realization of), was that he was also very cuddly. and very hard to be talked out of, no less.
— and like, okay, sure, it was kind of hypocritical of you to be taken aback when you'd been indulging jeonghan of his affinity for physical touch for quite some time, now.
the surprise hugs whenever he caught you waiting for the campus shuttle or simply Minding Your Own Business, his inclination towards taking your hand to make you walk a little faster when the two of you were going convenience store diving (yes, again), the quite literal poking and prodding whenever he was attempting to get you to change your mind and agree with his worst impulses... it was all pretty damning, in retrospect. but it never really fazed you: jeonghan's cuddly sort of behavior.
though you had gotten a smug kind of glee whenever you initiated contact and jeonghan's cheeks would warm to a beautiful shade of pink before he'd counter his own seeming embarrassment with a comment like "aaahhhh y/n, you're so familiar, what would others think if they saw you?"
randomly touch jeonghan's forearm, whether to pull him closer for some reason or another or just to softly massage the skin while you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone (instagram scrolling was sacred time you and jeonghan shared — then you didn't have to send him the reel with your comments, you could just tap him on the shoulder and show him). they way jeonghan would get all shy at the touch — like maybe he felt some of those butterflies that perpetually fluttered about in your stomach whenever he was around — was all the satisfaction you could ever need.
— so yes, you were quite used to clingy jeonghan. but cuddly? you had never quite strayed into full cuddle territory... until you did.
— that fateful night, you had lovingly been given notice via a very abrupt group text that you would not be able to return to your apartment for the evening (someone was going to have company over, doing... things that familiar company do) and when you had told jeonghan of your plans to join seonghwa in his trip to the computer rooms at crescent hub (they were open 24 hours and while it was based on reservation, you were almost always able to get a seat), he offered you come to his apartment instead.
either that, or i guess you could spend your time watching the gaming club host whatever tournament they had going on — apparently jun was planning to be gone for Quite Some Time (as a senior member of the club) and shua was there... for moral support? that part was unclear, to be quite honest, but it wasn't as though shua ever needed a reason to be Busy and Outgoing, so it didn't quite matter much, in the end.
"why aren't you at crescent hub with your roommates, then?"
"and encourage them? ah... don't make me look soft."
and you're sure that the way you roll your eyes can be heard through the phone.
"i had an assignment to finish." / "you had work to finish."
"but! it's all been submitted now."
"then i'll meet you."
— after all, it's not like you were a stranger to jun's apartment — you'd hung out there plenty of times as your bond with jeonghan deepened and your friendship to shua and jun grew — and they did have a rather comfy couch... you were almost certain jeonghan's offer implied and unspoken 'you can at least get some comfortable sleep on our vertiable cloud of a couch when i'm done prying at the finer details as to just who momo decided to bring home.'
you both, after all, had a deep-seeded delight for gossip.
— and when you got there, it was exactly what you expected: jeonghan had seemingly raided the pantry finding ingredients so the two of you could make dakdoritang — excepting the carrot, of course.
despite his seeming love for convenience store runs and general lazy attitude toward preparing his own meals, cooking together seemed to be something jeonghan enjoyed lately — or at least, that's what you surmised. to you, it seemed that one day jeonghan woke up and chose cooking as a new hobby.
if you were to ask jeonghan, he would brush it off, of course, probably saying something about his mom visiting and praising jun's affinity for cooking and there was no way jeonghan could let the bastard win — but really all it had taken was one (1) absentminded hand on his chest from you and a "hannie, can you pass me the garlic cloves?" for him to make cooking with you a new personality trait of his. go figure.
— and so the two of you made your stew while debating which movie you should watch when you were done. you ended up compromising on some drama that you'd seen people claim was so bad it was good, and it really was. the cringe,,,, the mutual yelling at the tv,,,,,,, threatening the lives of fictional characters,,,,,,, talking over whole dialogue scenes because you had a brilliant rewrite in mind and jeonghan simply couldn't resist the way you looked when there was an earnestness in your eyes and an opinion on your lips,,,,
it was quite late, indeed, before you even knew it. and when you switched the tv to a music video you really wanted to show jeonghan, the autoplay sort of took over, and your mind sort of shut down... drifted off to sleep.
— you woke up at some point in the early morning; the sound of the lock clicking and the door opening wasn't the sound you were used to, in your apartment two doors down, and it was just enough to snap you awake momentarily, still half in dream yet with one foot in reality.
it was just shua and jun, and they whispered an apology before padding off to their respective rooms (jun his own, shua his shared room with hannie), clearly worn out from their gaming activities.
— but that little push to semi-wakefulness was just enough for you to take stock of where you were, and you noticed belatedly that jeonghan had never left to go back to his room. you were both sleeping on the couch, legs intertwined; jeonghan was resting his head on your shoulder and your hands were reaching out, as if almost to give him a subconscious hug.
— the embarrassment ran through your nervous system almost instantly, and when you made to slowly and gently move your limbs so you were less... interwoven, jeonghan stirred and, still sleeping, pulled you back towards him. perhaps even closer than before.
you couldn't help yourself. a giggle escaped you; perhaps half nerves, mostly endearment. jeonghan stirred again and the sound and you covered your mouth, not wanting to wake him.
he stilled soon enough, and before drifting off again, you kissed him on the forehead.
— when you fully woke up the next morning, jeonghan had already began his day, but he didn't even try to hide the fact that the both of you had unwittingly unlocked a new feature in this friendship of yours. he sort of just... took the night prior as a confirmation that cuddling was on the list of approved actions and refused to let go of you, after.
not that it bothered you, of course.
it just seemed that the butterflies in your stomach were given wild energy at this new development; all your strategies for calming them suddenly ineffective.
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AND IT WAS ALL YELLOW (CONT.) ☄. *. ⋆
— so.
if you had asked jeonghan at any point in his life if he were good at manipulating, his answer would be an unequivocable yes.
deceit? of course.
scheming? obviously.
lying? naturally.
blackmailing? most assuredly.
gaslighting, gatekeeping, girlbossing? undoubtedly.
changing criteria? yes.
moving goalposts? clearly.
hiding the apparent? well...
— see, the thing is... you get so good at the others that concealing the obvious isn't exactly necessary. everyone might know to be wary of the scheming, cheating, self-serving yoon jeonghan, but it didn't change the fact that he was so astute at the rest of it, image didn't exactly matter.
and besides, why save face when it was so fun to see people accuse him of what they were all very aware?
— so yes, jeonghan was quite skilled at all manner of deception. the one facet he was not so adept in was hiding his feelings toward the matter.
— thus, it should be no surprise that everyone and their mother knew jeonghan had a crush.
and it was only getting worse.
— don't ask jun when he put the dots together — he was more emotionally intellectual than he let on most of the time — and don't ask joshuji when either — that fucker had this quirk where he joked about something before it had real honest basis, but in some way only attributed to the gift of clairvoyance, he always seemed to be right. if you were to ask joshua, he'd likely recall the first time he had looked at jeonghan and wiggled his eyebrows and call that he knew then (he didn't; at least, not really).
— as for s.coups... well, don't ever ask cheol anything about jeonghan. he'd rather die than give it to you straight.
please. when he could embarrass jeonghan? seungcheol lives for that shit.
after all, what else are older brothers for?
— so yes, it was obvious to those close to him that jeonghan was in the long-suffering limbo of Having A Thing For Your Best Friend But Not Acting On It, and it had been apparent for months.
— after all, it felt like centuries ago that joshua had offered to play matchmaker for jeonghan and you — the veritable apple of his eye — and set the two of you up on a date.
it had been some lazy morning and jun nearly spit out his breakfast.
"you'd both love it! i'd get jihoon to play something romantic on the violin; well, maybe recorder—"
cue jun choking once more.
"and you could be there waiting in full suit and tie."
"with couples rings waiting in the bread basket." and joshua's eyes went comically and maniacally wide at jun's inclusion.
"ah, cheol would crash any date like that."
"but then y/n could get his blessing!"
— at some point, jun was at his wits end.
in his defense, it was him who had to see the two of you be all sweet and love-struck all the time, giggling and teasing each other on his couch in his apartment while all he's trying to do is eat a sorry excuse of a subway sandwich (eat fresh.) before jetting off to his internship again.
if you had to see that shit while eating soggy bread you'd be annoyed, too.
one more "aigoooo" while jeonghan squishes your cheeks, and you bat him away with a roll of your eyes and jun would take a knife out of the block behind him.
— especially when jeonghan started calling you "angel" at every chance he got. had jun's eye twitching, it did. never had he regretted getting roommates until jeonghan fell in love.
one day jun learned that the phrase "get a room" made at least one of you self conscious enough to at least tone it down, and he never stopped weaponizing it, since.
— of course, overtime jun's protests became background noise, but once, when your roommates and jeonghan's all went to the museum of fine arts together to celebrate the end of finals week (it was free admission so long as you had your svtu activities card), jun had deadpanned his new favorite phrase in the middle of the outdoor conversation area. jeonghan had turned to you grinning, like it was the excuse he'd been waiting for all day, and after a lighthearted "shall we?" you grabbed his hand and the two of you pranced off to explore the sculpture terrace.
jeonghan had raised an eyebrow at your choice of exhibit, but you pulled him over to a sculpture of a human figure with black wings and flashed a smile: “it’s not a private room, but i think it works.”
“if you’d prefer it, i’m sure there’s a custodial closet we could go to instead. i bet there's one right outside, even.”
you snorted. “and if i did kiss you? what would you do then?"
— you stunned him into silence. him. yoon jeonghan. 
— right as he was about to recover and shoot back some smartass comment, you laughed — the sound clear and playful, bright and radiating with warmth — and then you wandered to where they showcased student work.
— umm... uhhh... WHATTHEFUCKWEREYOUDOING WHATTHEFUCKWASGOINGONNNNNN
“angel.”
you hummed absentmindedly, only half hearing jeonghan through the internal screaming reverberating in your skull.
“y/nnnnnnnnnnnnnnn…”
he was closer now, if you focused, you were sure you could feel him, inching closer, right behind you, just to your right…
— he kissed your cheek: half on the corner of your lips, half on the soft of your skin.
— you couldn’t help yourself. you turned.
“if you were bold enough to kiss me here, i’d kiss you back. then i’d be scandalized, ‘how forward!’”
your mouth opened: in shock, in delight, in laughter, in a heavenly mix of the three. jeonghan just stood there, all self-satisfied grin.
“you could waste your time finding a comeback, or you could be forward.”
“i think i have time for both.”
☄. *. ⋆
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end of file .
SVT (sophrosyne; virtù; truth) University hopes you've enjoyed your stay !
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zweiginator · 3 months ago
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What if divorced!art gets dragged to a club one weekend by his foundation-buddies and he obviously doesn’t want to but he forces himself and then it turns out that escort!reader is also there with her friends and they see each other outside of «work» for the first time… And her friends doesn’t know about her escorting so maybe they recognize him and maybe she goes to talk to him because her friends says she should «flirt more»🤭 And then ofc he fucks her in the dirty club bathroom
divorced!art upset because he hasn't seen you in weeks. everything has been busy since he hit the ground running with tennis again. practice after practice, signing sponsorship deals, galas and charity fundraising. and you had been busy too. art didn't know this, but you're a student as well. you didn't tell him not because you didn't want to share your life with him, but because it made you feel juvenile. of course, it's university and you're almost finished with your degree after five and a half years instead of the usual four--but you still feel dumb talking about that part of your life with him. for you to bitch about group projects and essays about political science while art is upset about custody battles and petty divorce politics--it feels trivial.
but your friends want to celebrate the semester being freshly over. just a few more summer classes for you and you will finally graduate. you'll finally get to hang up your hat and say goodbye to escorting. to that taboo little secret that's been dragging your eyes into sunken purple holes for the past fourteen months.
and your friends don't know, of course. it's impossible to explain to a group of girls whose parents pay for tuition and books and groceries. gas, clothes and even the designer heels they wear to the club they're standing in right now--that you need to do this. for money. to survive.
no, it isn't ideal. but this is the real fucking world and sex sells.
so they think you're prudish. they've never seen you have a boyfriend or flirt because that's your job every other day of the week. to pretend to be in love. to fuck lonely assholes and pretend to care about their lives. to believe them when they say they aren't a bad husband. that men have needs.
they urge you to flirt with men at the bar. but like always, you're just not interested. and all the men in this shitty tavern-bar-turned-college-club are all the same. middle-aged men who shoved their wedding bands in their back pockets to pick up pussy from a doe-eyed girl in her twenties.
none of them are remotely attractive. and you're thanking your lucky stars that you don't recognize a single one of them.
your friend taps on your shoulder. "there's one hot guy here. you may recognize him. he's kinda famous."
you down the rest of your drink. "oh really? i doubt i'd be interested."
but she points to a man leaning against the bar way off in the corner. sad eyes and salt and pepper hair that was once dirty blond; you've seen his baby pictures. he's tall and in love with you and you with him and you could strangle him right now because he hasn't returned your calls or texts in over five days.
"art donaldson." your other friend sighs. "he's a tennis player and i'd fuck him if i didnt have a boyfriend."
it's then that art turns around. likely feels the eyes of six girls burning into the back of his skull. he's holding a beer bottle and he looks forlorn, his typical woe is me demeanor that makes him so fucking attractive to you. lights up that neanderthal part of your brain that makes you want to fix the unfixable.
and then he smiles. it makes you blush and your friends, not knowing the tendrils of your history together that have now become rooted in the ground beneath you, tell you to go for it.
"he's staring right at you."
you know that. art knows not to make it clear he knows you; it would open up that whole can of worms.
so he waits for you to come to him and you pretend to be nervous which isn't that hard because you are already.
when you get to him, he whispers in your ear.
"they don't know about your job, im assuming?" he wants to wrap his arms around your waist but he refrains.
"they don't. but they know you, and they're very fond of you. they want me to flirt more."
art flags down the bartender. he gets you a gin and tonic, remembering how you liked the one he made for you that first night at his hotel room. you were just trying to make him feel better.
"well im glad im the lucky man." he sits down on a stool and hooks his leg around the stool next to him to bring it closer. he motions for you to sit and your friends are all staring at you but pretending they aren't.
"me too. although i don't know how much you deserve it." you take a sip. "given how you haven't responded to my calls in awhile."
art takes your drink from your hand, sets it down. he rests his hand on your lower back.
"im sorry honey. i haven't been meaning to be an asshole. there's a lot going on with tennis and everything."
you run a hand through his hair. "i get it." you feign a frown. "you just may have to make it up to me." and when you uncross your legs, art can see your thong. he tenses his jaw.
"i do need to make it up to you, don't i?" he takes a swig from his beer. "i'll tell you what." he glances around, at the bathroom door swinging open. "why don't i go to the bathroom to freshen up and you come check on me in a few minutes, yeah?"
he's so close you can smell the beer on his breath. you nod and he goes toward the bathroom.
your friends want to come over and ask you all about it, but then you're knocking on the bathroom door with your special knock. the one that only you and art know.
he pulls you inside, and the bathroom is dingy with a flickering light and graffiti on the walls. drawings of dicks and crude words but art sits on the toilet seat.
"c'mere." he reaches out to you and you go to him. a pavlovian response that makes you so fucking wet to be near him. to be on his lap like you're supposed to be. he kisses you like he missed you because he has. he's not supposed to. his lips trail wet, hot kisses up your throat and he's greedier than usual. dragging your pussy over his throbbing erection. he's only wearing his briefs on his bottom half and you tug at his shirt because you want to see all of him. feel all of him. he does the same to you. panting into your mouth because his cock rests between your folds. nudges against your clit as you grind on him.
"fuckin' ruined pussy for me." he throws his head back and you grab his jaw to kiss him. sloppy and disgusting but you love the taste of him. how your lipstick melds into his saliva. drips down his neck like you're a vampire taking him for everything he fucking has.
"yeah?" you rake your nails down his chest and take his cock out. it's bare against your pussy, your panties pushed to the side.
"nothing turns me on anymore. nothing gets me off. only you. that tight fucking cunt."
he never talks like this. so crude. but you love drawing it out of him. milking those dirty words as you stroke his heavy cock for him. people bang on the bathroom door but neither of you fucking care.
you sink down on him. you do it all at once. you're addicted to how his hips spasm and his eyes roll back and he lets a strangled moan-groan hybrid escape him. he holds onto the flesh of your ass as you fuck him.
the porcelain of the toilet creaks unsteady below you and you're completely on top of him, your feet behind you as you fuck him harder and harder. but he asks for more because he wants you more.
"fuck me--fuck me--" he repeats it over and over. guides you up and down and up and down his cock from base to tip. "your pussy was fucking made for me. i need it, i need it--"
his mouth hangs open and you can't believe he's yours like this. you want him to cum but then again you don't because then he can't be inside you anymore. and that's precisely where you want him.
his jaw is tense and his neck pulses with his heartbeat as he presses his forehead to yours.
"i want you--" a moan. "to hit me. i want you to fucking claim me."
so you smack him, and his arms wrap tight against your waist because he's cumming and he wants it to stay like this forever. but if it can only be a few more minutes, that will do too.
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mortalfaerie · 2 months ago
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hi here's my take on the gravity falls kids grown up since they're 25 now
Mason "Dipper" Pines
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after wierdmaggedan and disposing of the journals, he still has a keen interest in mysteries, just not necessarily of a supernatural nature. he's aware of the supernatural that's all around them, but content to let it rest.
he gets really into history and archeology, and bonds more with ford about this - even though ford is a physicist, he appreciates dipper's enthusiasm
he's trans (i'll die on this hill) and continues to socially transition in high school, and starts testosterone around 16.
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he also starts going more by his chosen name (mason, choosing one that starts similarly to mabel) but still lets close friends and family call him dipper. he stops covering his birthmark, though he still likes hats
he's suspicious of mabel's new friendship with pacifica in high school, but he warms up to pacifica ("paz," as they end up calling her) over time. he realizes they have a lot in common and she's actually a lot of help on his mystery hunting
paz's blooming interest in political science lends itself very much to his interest in history, and they spend lots of hours as teen up late on the phone together (seemingly everyone but them can see the writing on the wall, but it takes a few more years for them to realize their feelings)
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he continues to be a massive nerd, and has at least one dd&md podcast he religiously listens to. he and mabel go to conventions in california together.
his favorite place remains gravity falls over the years, and he goes back at least once each summer.
he and pacifica both commit to UCLA and become closer there. he majors in archeology & anthropology. despite their very different social circles, they seek each other out. she has at least one twat boyfriend in freshman year that dipper confronts on her behalf (even though she didn't want him to)
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he and paz almost kiss at his going away party for a semester abroad in greece, but he panics and runs off, leaving her confused and hurt. it takes a while for them to regain their footing, but they end up hooking up the night he comes back from greece. due to a comedy of errors they don't end up *going all the way* that night, and it's not until they're at the pool a week later that she realizes he's trans when she sees his top surgery scars (thanks rockslide @ ao3)
he was 99% sure she knew so it's a surprise moment for him, and he worries she won't be interested now, but she's pretty non-plussed. they start dating that summer.
her parents disapprove and she ends up putting her foot down and cutting them off for how they treat him, and his family ends up practically adopting her. they are each other's biggest supporters in everything.
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he gets offered a spot in a phd program in london, which stresses him out until he finds out that paz applied for a posting at the us embassy in london and got it, so they move to england together
he studies pre-modern civilizations and religious rites (a la stonehenge, etc) and has just finished his coursework and moved from phd student to candidate. he's just started to write his dissertation on potentially matriarchal societies in pre-modern britain using burial site data from major burial sites of religious significance.
he and paz have a cat name tyrone, or ty. they've been together for almost four years now, and he's thinking about popping the question - they're young (25), but he's pretty certain that for him, it's always going to be paz.
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nwarrior777 · 7 months ago
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Science Museum Group changed offensive object tittle after getting my letter
here's the story about it:
Wonderful @solariium commissioned me wonderful victorian-era wheelchair user character to draw. Refs were provided, and one of the links was an object in online museum gallery - vintage wheelchair.
solariium, who is wheelchair user theirself, mentioned that tittle of the object is incorrect but it was good picture for the ref. i wondered "what's with the tittle?" looked in the link and saw
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ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Invalid chair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID
welp. incorrect indeed! [i* is outdated offensive term]
so i decided to make a special move
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ID: my drawing of a character from anime "mob psycho 100" - Arataka Reigen. He holds a phone next to his ear, his face epression is very confident. It's all anime sparkles lights effects around him and text "REIGEN SPECIAL MOVE". end ID
and USE MY POWER
of writing emails
i don't have problems with writing emails, so i thought why not
and
https://collection.sciencemuseumgroup.org.uk/objects/co120657/carved-wooden-wheelchair-europe-1850-1890-invalid-chair
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ID: screenshot of online museum collection, vintage old wheelchai object page. the tittle of wheelchair says: Carved wooden wheelchair, Europe, 1850-1890. end ID
it worked!
As human who made bunch of projects, i can say that keeping museum gallery is tone of work.
And tittle change - no, it's not just changing few letters.
Changing tittle of object in museum is similar to changing name of game file. Catalogs changes, maybe they have irl gallery, so new card, they probably have some code objects system related to tittles, and scientists, students, make reference to this object in their researches and articles and etc etc.
So, yeah, it * is * a lot of work. Also, they changed description, it now says that this object was "historically referred to as ‘invalid chair’". And i think it's good, because it is not erasing fact of people used this word, and it's addition to the progress context - we literally see now old term clarified as past, and new one, now, in the tittle.
(and yes, web link. i just saw that i* word still there. yeah, not perfect but still, considering things i said above - big work done)
I used some conversation strategy in case "this is offensive can you fix" will not be enough — started on positive attitude giving compliment on their collection being big and interesting, gave them extra argument on why this should be fixed (more actual search key words on this now are "vintage wheelchair", not "i* chair"). Then we had a little letters chain, where they answered politely too, and in about few days i got detailed answer on this, and yep, changed tittle.
And i think this shows, that if someone did mistake and someone noticed it and giving feedback on it, if both sides are interested in progress and making good changes, no matter how hard it is, sides can make a change, working together and being kind. And i think we should be more brave about making such connections!
Thanks again to @solariium and museum workers!
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wasabi-gumdrop · 6 months ago
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thinking about modern au Kabru
ivy league college student, probably studying law and political science on a full scholarship. first time living away from Milsiril so he has to promise her, yes mom i’ll call you at least four times a week, no mom i don’t need your amex black card, yes mom the normal credit card is fine i need to learn how to budget like a Normal Person (it has a limit of $20k — that’s not normal Kabru).
Milsiril insists for a long time that she’ll just get him a house off campus so he can have his own space (aka a place she can drop by anytime and possibly live a few months out of the year just to be close to him) but Kabru puts his foot down and tells her the best way he’s gonna make friends is by living with other students (bye mom).
his floor in the coed dorms is the party floor and he always makes sure to invite everybody (his nightmare is accidentally leaving anyone out and having them think that he doesn’t like them). somehow it’s always a good time, everyone leaves with more friends than they came with, it never gets totally out of control, and plenty of girls who are interested in him (and a lot of guys too tbh) bring tons of baked treats so there’s always free food. Kabru is the RA’s favourite person to have in the building (even though Kabru himself is messy but most of the people he’s friends with are nice and clean up after themselves).
he has a porsche (Milsiril gift for his 16th bday) but he’s adamant about not driving it unless he absolutely has to (because he doesn’t wanna look like a douche). BUT he never says no when his friends ask for rides (so he ends up driving all the time anyway). he actually contemplates selling the porsche and going for a more practical car but Mickbell is like ‘dude you are not taking this away from me.’ Kabru sighs and decides to keep it because his friends (Mickbell) like being chauffeured around in a fancy convertible (Rin, Holm, and Dia don’t care, they’re just glad they don’t have to walk to the grocery store).
he’s probably on a casual texting basis with most of his professors and you know he’s going to all their office hours, grabbing beer with them just to keep chatting about life outside of school. and that’s how he winds up in some super secret faculty group chat where he’s now privy to all the college administration gossip.
Kabru is elected for student council during his freshman year and he’s probably the favourite to be sc president one day.
he doesn’t really date (gets too in his head about how he doesn’t wanna ruin any friendships) but he does hang out one on one with a lot of girls and treats them all really well. he probably goes so far out of his way to be platonic that he flies a little too close to the ‘Just Like One of the Girlies’ sun, he kinda forgets that most people interpret it as flirting coming from him. which leads to a few awkward conversations. people feeling led on, a few angry jealous boyfriends, scathing dms about him being a girl stealing homewrecker.
it’s such a nightmare for him and he needs it to end right now. so he begs Rin to ‘date’ him for a week or two and then publicly dump him just so the entire student body gets the message that he is Just A Friend.
Rin stares at him for a few seconds. then she laughs. she laughs and laughs. she laughs for a crazy long time. and then eventually she goes, ‘wow you’re an asshole, Kabru. no i won’t be your fake girlfriend. you’re gonna suffer and i’m going to enjoy it.’
and that’s when Kabru has a moment of enlightenment. ok yeah. asking for that is probably really selfish and mean. maybe he needs to think about girls’ feelings more and that’s maybe more important than his deep seated need to be liked, and when has Rin ever been wrong about anything.
he apologizes. and so begins one of the more serious talks he’s ever had with Rin about being okay with not being liked.
he thinks he can really turn over a new leaf. the whole ‘not worrying about what other people think’ thing goes pretty well — up until Kabru meets the aloof professor for his Monsters and Myths class who keeps forgetting and mispronouncing his name.
Kabru has never needed someone to like him So Bad, he needs Prof. Touden to like him as a matter of life and death, and he’s willing to look stupid for it (fails a midterm on purpose to justify begging for one on one tutoring)
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visualtaehyun · 7 months ago
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>> Updated for ep. 12!
While catching up on We Are, I made a cheat sheet for me to refer back to and thought I might as well share 🤷‍♀️ and I'm still updating this post as the show airs!
1st 2nd years in Fine Arts
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JJ as Matt (Matthew) แมท (แมทธิว), Toey's best friend Satang as Toey เต้ย, Q's mentee น้องรหัส /nong ra hat/
2nd 3rd years in Fine Arts
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Ciize as Fai ฝ้าย Winny as Q คิว, Toey's mentor พี่รหัส /phi ra hat/, nicknamed Maestro Q เทพคิว /thehp Q/ (= divine Q) Phuwin as Peem พีม
2nd 3rd years in Engineering
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Pepper as Beer เบียร์, Civil Engineering Tee as Mick มิค, Civil Engineering Pond as Phum ภูมิ, Civil Engineering Aou as Tan แทน, Computer Engineering
Other students
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Marc as Chain เชน, 2nd 3rd year in Dentistry Poon as Pun ปัน, 2nd 3rd year in Political Science Boom as (Khao)fang (ข้าว)ฟ่าง, Phum's older brother, 2nd 3rd year in Architecture Title as Kluen คลื่น, 3rd year in Architecture, Phum's love rival/pursues Peem (ep. 7-)
The adults
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Godji as Aunt Pui อาปุ้ย, Peem's aunt, owner of a cafe Arm as Oh โอ้, Fine Arts senior, owner of the cafe Q and Toey met at Na as Professor Po อาจารย์โป, faculty of Fine Arts Champ as Aueai เอื่อย, the gang's Fine Arts senior, owner of an awful romanization of a name the bar Q works at
Pronouns
the gang: - Peem, Q, Chain, Pun, and Tan have been friends since high school - everyone uses กู /guu/->มึง /meung/ (with Fai as well btw)
the brothers: - ภูมิ /Phum/->ฟ่าง /Fang/ and vice versa - childhood friends with Toey, used to protect and look out for him - them, Toey, Beer, and Mick all went to the same school - there's a third brother who's older than both of them
Peem and aunt Pui: - พีม /Peem/->อา /aa/ (=aunt) and อา /aa/->น้องพีม /nong Peem/
Q and Toey: - currently กู /guu/->มึง /meung/ and เต้ย /Toey/->พี่คิว /phi Q/ - nicknames in the past are น้องนมปั่น /nong nohm bpan/ (=Nong Milkshake) "Milk Frappe Boy" and พี่ดินสอ /phi din saaw/ (=P'Pencil) "Pencil Senior" - Q, though teasingly, called Toey น้องเต้ย /nong Toey/ and himself พี่คิว /phi Q/ in ep. 11 once
Toey and the boys: - he calls every one of them เฮีย /hia/ except for Q lol and finally, in ep.6, the gang realizes it too! - they all use กู /guu/->มึง /meung/ with him but by ep. 8 I've noticed Chain, Pun and Phum call themselves เฮีย /hia/ with Toey sometimes - Matt is the only one Toey uses กู /guu/->มึง /meung/ with since they're same-aged
Tan and Fang: - กู /guu/->มึง /meung/ in both directions - Tan also uses เค้า /kao/ -> ที่รัก /thee rak/ "babe" (or just ฟ่าง /Fang/) which is how the gang finds out in ep. 7 that they're dating! AND FANG USED THEM TOO IN EP. 11 - rivals-to-lovers baby!!
Phum and Peem: - กู /guu/->มึง /meung/ in both directions and I don't think it's ever gonna change -> that moment in ep. 5 after winning the plushie where Phum called Peem by name? Yeah so maybe they are gonna have a change of pronouns - Phum increasingly keeps using ครับ /khrap/
Previous additions: ep. 5 - Buffalo and 'feelings in my heart' ep. 6 - 'Khun meung khrap', hia gang, and the gc name ep. 7 - Unsubbed lines, 'thirak', and buffalo (again) ep. 9 - Tomato glasses, song reference, and 'taking advantage' ep. 11 - Sweet pronouns&particles and 'A ghost's gonna push you!' ep. 12 - ChainPun crumbs, 'taking advantage' YET AGAIN GMMTV, more sweetness, and the third brother
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i23kazu · 1 year ago
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GENSHIN MEN & BEING YOUR COLLEGE CLASSMATE .
characters. xiao diluc kaeya childe ayato alhaitham kaveh scara x gn!reader genre. romantic fluff. an. some professors, some students!!! come n see my headcanons hehe . | please reblog!! im getting back into writing and reblogs with tags and comments will make me want to write more :D
xiao
a history major. specifically in liyue studies – sometimes he corrects the professor. "were you there in (time period), xiao? do you want to say something about it?" the professor asks sarcastically. the whole class is shocked when xiao nods and takes over the class. the professor has nothing else to say. of course, after class — it’s a little hard to get xiao to agree to tutor you — why should he spend his time teaching someone who doesn’t give their 100% in class? it’s only when you bring up the point that your professor sucks that he agrees. and maybe, just maybe after all that time the two of you spend together… maybe something will happen?
diluc
business major, but does a double degree with political science. he's a force to be reckoned with in class, often standing his point with ease and with the obstinacy of a mule – especially when it's something that he holds close to his heart. the first time you fell in love with diluc was when he had passionately entered a debate regarding mondstadt and snezhnaya's diplomatic situation. for a man of few words, diluc's speech can turn heads – even yours. you did well, for your first debate, you tease. he barks a laugh and turns back to his laptop.
kaeya
fashion major... he comes to class in the most immaculate outfits. some might say he looks goofy, but that's just his thing! nothing looks goofy on him and he can absolutely pull off everything. he's definitely the class flirt, using measuring tape to pull the ones he's set his eyes upon closer. you roll his eyes as his tablemate, often trying to focus on your own creations – but how can you focus when he looks like... that? measuring tape around his neck, pencil held sticking out of his mouth and his hair covering his eyes. he may not have been objectively attractive at that point in time, but there's something about him that makes him so fascinating.
childe
childe is a occupational therapy major, with a minor in social science! he has a heart for the people and he wants to do his best to serve them ... although his ways of "serving" can look quite different sometimes. he lives, breathes, eats and drinks fitness and maybe half of his body mass lies in the protein powder he takes every morning. he's buff, but he's definitely a sweetheart – and a heartthrob, in his major. he's happy to help people out, just that... ah, his group of friends may not exactly seem the friendliest around. childe is different from his friends, though; give him a chance! he's plotting so many ways to ask you out.
ayato
ayato is definitely a business major! just like diluc, he does a double degree – his secondary major is international relations. after stepping up as the CEO of the kamisato company ( at age 20?! ), ayato had decided to take his studies further. ayato is definitely an overachiever and he was turned down from taking another sociology course because he had gone over the amount of credits needed for the next four years. the thing about ayato is that he isn't exactly the most approachable or the friendliest – or so you think. no one approaches him for him for him, but everyone knows that he's the most reliable one around. perhaps you'd like to be the first to make a move?
alhaitham
linguistics ( obviously! ) and also a social science student. he's the senior that everyone is entranced by – he's absolutely fascinating. there's something about his aloofness and yet an ability to connect to people he wants to reach out to that makes him so ... interesting. alhaitham is a man of little words, which means that whenever he opens his mouth – everyone will listen. alhaitham is definitely the classmate you envy; his life always looks so put together! when you ask him to tutor you, he says nothing else except for the date, time, and location. but he is there at the date, time, and location – and that's what matters.
kaveh
he's definitely the struggling, caffeine filled architecture major. he burns his wallet buying ice cream sticks and cardboard each week, and his hands are almost always full with his materials. honestly, at some point, kaveh had almost set his mind on dropping out – until you had convinced him to stay. it took a long walk and a trip to the nearest art store to remind him of why he had chosen architecture in the first place – and it's safe to say that kaveh had fallen head over heels for you after that. you're his safe place in a course so exhausting.
scara
a dropout definitely a media student! scara takes no shits from his clients, but that's part of his brand. he's the brooding guy at the back of the class, with his signature hoodie – it's one of the seven mysteries of teyvat university; of how he and childe are best friends. grumpy black cat and sunshine orange cat. scara doesn't enjoy interacting with anyone. at most, he talks to you when he needs to, because of the seating arrangement. there are rumours surrounding him, saying that he was kicked out of the law school because of his affiliation with... certain people, rendering his reputation hopeless. nevertheless, you treat him as you would with anyone else – and maybe, just maybe: that wins you a spot in his heart.
taglist: @tiredsleep @loptido @raincxtter @chichikoi @ladyadii @soulsanta @sheiiths @genshinparty @eowinthetraveler @moonbyunniee @legitnoi @lemontum @manager-of-the-pudding-bank @starz222 @ilyuu @cherry-colored-petals @mondaymelon @tartaglia-apologist @soleillunne @m1shapanda @aimynx @smokipoki @adeptuscharm @diorlumx @vennnnn-diagram @ryuryuryuyurboat @yuminako @st0pthatsgay @aqualesha @sixtynintharchon @supernova25 @kunikuda-simp @starglitterz (send ask/comment to be added to taglist)
reblogs w/ tags & comments help me lots !!! if you liked this, please consider dropping me a follow as well :-) they all go a long way!
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phoward89 · 6 months ago
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Professor!Coriolanus x Innocent!Reader
Masterlist
WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. Dark!Coryo, Obsessed!Coryo, Innocent!Reader, Sweet!Reader, Naive!Reader, manipulation, obsession, professor/student relationship, power imbalance, age difference, cussing, drugging, dacryphilia, smut, dub con, non con?
Based on a request a while back where your professor's obsessed with you and manipulates you to be with him.
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Part 1
Coriolanus Snow flourished in his studies at the University: a double major in Political Science and Military Strategy. He also impressed Dr. Gaul while interning with her as a gamemaker. But, although his ideas were implemented and well liked by the mad scientist, Dr. Gaul didn't feel like Mr. Snow had the raw, insane, sadistic gumption that it took to be an official Gamemaker.
The mad scientist also didn't like Coriolanus’ presidential aspirations. Truthfully, she feared the young Snow because, in her opinion, he was too ambitious. Ambition is a very dangerous thing when given the absolute freedom to bloom into real, tangible, outcomes and goals. Dr. Gaul knew if Coriolanus became an Assistant Gamemaker that he'd stop at nothing to attain her job; use that position to further his goal of politics.
Coriolanus Snow dreamed of becoming the youngest President Panem has ever had. And Dr. Gaul knows that in order to do that, well, her little pupil has to win people over; kill a lot of them too in order to clear the way for his stepping stones to the Presidential Palace.
Coriolanus Snow as the president is the last thing Dr. Gaul wants on God's green earth. Her former student is very cunning, but uncontrollable. He likes to be in control; doesn't want to be told what to do. Has a godlike complex too. And the mad scientist can't have that because, in reality, the President of Panem is just a figurehead- a puppet that Dr. Gaul pulls all the strings of.
And after mentoring Mr. Snow for his 4 years of University, well, Dr. Gaul has come to the conclusion that he's a failed experiment. To a certain degree he passed some of her tests, but not the one where ambition and falling in line were concerned. Plus, the woman has a suspicion that Coriolanus poisoned Highbottom a few years back; no way in hell is she letting an arsenic happy little sociopath work close to her.
She's not crazy enough to trust Coriolanus Snow not to poison her. Give Dr. Gaul some credit, she didn't become the Head Gamemaker and the Head of the War Department for nothing. She's very bright, just a bit insane and morally evil.
But, since Dr. Gaul, his personal mentor during his entire University career, claimed that he just wasn't the best of the best or the brightest star out of the University students under her tutelage, Coriolanus wasn't offered any positions that could be of power or use to him in his dreams of politics. He was blackballed from the Citadel and from anything Gamemaker related, per Dr. Gaul's request.
But he was offered a position as a professor in the Political Science department of the Capitol's prestigious University. But the class he was assigned to teach just happened to be an elective class.
Political Policies In Utopia/Dystopia Pre-Panem Literature/Media
It was basically a class that broke down what was right and wrong with the politics of various pre-Panem books and movies that were usually apocalyptic or post-apocalyptic (sometimes even sci-fi in nature). Coriolanus felt that the class was idiotic, but he was stuck teaching it. Apparently the class was designed as something fun for the Political Science students, as something light amongst their heavy coursework. But still something that'd keep their minds on the strengths and weaknesses of politics; the importance of them.
The first couple of years teaching the course, Coriolanus would cringe at some of the books and movies he was forced to make the class read, watch, and disect. But as the years went on, well, he got immune to some of the source material he was teaching. Sad to say, but after a while the shocking things in his lessons didn't phase him.
So, as his old classmates and acquaintances made their mark in the world in either politics, banking, or business, Coriolanus was a University Professor. He was trapped in a mundane life, year and year.
And one day he woke up, a man nearing 28 and going nowhere. He was frustrated with his life: bitter over his dead dreams. But, when you walked into his class on the first day of the Fall semester looking like a fresh faced innocent school girl that had recently graduated from the Academy during early July, well, he knew that his luck had changed.
Yes, he might be stuck being a professor of a useless elective class forever, but at least now he had a sweet angel- you- to lust after and corrupt. And the darkness looming inside of Coriolanus’ soul demands that he corrupts you; takes you as his life partner to smother and never let you.
He swore to never fall in love again and he intended to keep that vow, but that didn't mean that he had to keep fucking useless, faceless, nameless whores. No. It was time for him to get a good girl and unfortunately for you, well, your youth and innocent aura attracted Professor Snow to you like a moth to a flame.
Except he's not the one that's getting burnt in this scenario, but you are.
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You're one of the only girls enrolled in Professor Snow's class, but that's because it's a Political Science course. Actually, it's an elective class for Political Science majors of all year levels. But still…it's a political class.
Your parents weren't too thrilled when you enrolled at the University as a Political Science major. Your father, Colonel Javanis Halvir, felt that you should've joined the Nursing Core or should've settled on becoming a socialite and looking for a husband like other pretty Capitolite girls did.
But much to your father's disappointment you did neither and decided to study politics instead. You're older brother, Rein, who was an Officer in the Peacekeepers thought it was hilarious that you defied your father. He backed up your decision to major in Political Science. Your mother could care less; she even told your father to ignore your University major and course load; that you’d either get tired and quit because it was too hard or you’d find a future politician to marry.
So far neither of your mother's assumptions have come to pass. You're still enrolled in all of your classes and you're still single.
Your last class of the day was Professor Snow's and you found the class to be very interesting. Very intriguing in fact. Oh, how you found the class to be unlike any you've ever taken before.
Political Policies In Utopia/Dystopia Pre-Panem Literature/Media.
Oh, the class made you think about how things could be worse in different realities or universes. Yes, you're only on the first assigned book for the semester’s reading, but so far The Handmaid's Tale seems like hell on steroids. Fuck, that book makes you shudder and you're only halfway thru it. You honestly can't wait til it's over and Professor Snow lets you move onto the next one.
When you walk into the classroom, Professor Snow's sitting behind his mahogany desk. He's got reading glasses on and he's nose deep in a book. It's not one of the class assigned reads, so you quickly figured out that it's a personal book.
As you take your usual seat, you can't help but think that your professor (who’s a good decade older than you) looks handsome in reading glasses. That the dark frames make his icy blue eyes pop and contrasts against his slicked back platinum hair. Shaking your head to clear any and all wandering thoughts of Professor Snow, you open your bag and take out your supplies for the class.
Coriolanus discreetly looks over the top of his book to check you out. Oh fuck, how he thinks you look so goddamn perfect and sexy today in your sweater, blouse, skirt, stockings, kitten heels, and your pearls.
Fuck, a simple strand of pearls around the neck and simple pearl earrings in the ears always makes his cock twitch. Oh, how he wants to do some pearl play with the strand and your pussy.
Oh, yes, with how young you are and how innocently pretty you look, he's sure that your cunt's tighter then a Nun's chuff. Oh, how he'd love to take your strand of pearls and slide them up and down your wet slit; tease your clit with them until it's swollen and you're begging to cum. He wonders if you’d suck your juices clean from the pearls too.
But then Coriolanus remembers where the hell he's at, his classroom in the damn University, and suddenly he's thinking of his ex, Livia Cardew, to make his dick soft. Ugh, that shrew can kill a wet dream.
And when he sees all of his students are sitting in their respective seats, he eyes the clock on the wall to check the time. When he sees that it's about time to start class, he closes his book and places it on his desk before standing up and standing in front of the large blackboard. He writes on it in his impeccable handwriting.
The Handmaiden's Tale Chapters 26-28 Review
You listen as Professor Snow goes over the material you read over the last couple of days, literally giving a cut and dry summary that barely touched the topic of the latest chapters. But then, when he's done, he starts asking the class questions. Questions about the book that makes the class think and ponder.
“In chapter 28 Offred muses about the fall of the United States and the creation of Gilread. Now, we find out that women's rights are slowly striped and all bank accounts women have are given to the husband or male in the family, amongst some other revelations about the occupation Gilread slowly does to the government. Now, my question is, do you think the flashback Offered provided about the fall of the United States and the subtle, but sure, takeover of Gilread could happen today in Panem?”
A young man with beige hued hair raised his hand, only for Professor Snow to nod and acknowledge him with a simple, “Mr. Arnoult, you share your answer with the class.”
Eros Arnoult, in your opinion, was a pain in the ass; know it all. Or at least he thought he was a know it all. And he just had to answer Professor Snow's philosophical question with the idiotic and incorrect answer of, “What happened to the United States in the book would never happen here in Panem. Panem has Peacekeepers.”
And you knew Eros’ answer was wrong by how Professor Snow’s cerulean blue eyes narrowed and turning into a pair of cold icicles; how his lips frowned in a thin line.
Before thinking better of it, you turned around in your seat to look at Eros and told him, “You’re such an idiot, Eros. You're wrong, because what happened to the United States could happen to Panem.”
“Miss Y/N, please elaborate.” Professor Snow insisted with a spry smirk on his face.
You turn around to face your professor before telling him and the entire class, “What happened to the United States in the book A Handmaiden's Tale could happen to Panem if, gods forbid, the Districts rise up again like they did during the war; the Dark Days.”
“The Districts would never dream about rising up again. Not with the Hunger Games keeping them in line.” Eros told you before Professor Snow could even make a remark about your thoughts.
Turning around to face your classmate, again, you counter his remark with one of, “The Hunger Games can only do so much to keep them in line. People, if pushed too hard or if they feel too hopeless will try to rebel or will follow the pied piper into something worse than what they have and everyone else will be stunned when it happens because they never thought it could.”
Coriolanus was very impressed with your political insight. For being in your first semester of your first year at the University. At first your beauty and innocence caught his eye, but he has to admit that the more time you spend in his class the more he discovers he appreciates your wit as well.
So much so that he tells you, “Very good answer, Miss Y/N.”, before explaining in length what the United States did wrong in the book to fall and become Gilread and, of course, explaining how those lessons can be implemented and used in politics today.
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One day after class you're walking with your neighbor in the courtyard whenever Professor Snow comes marching up to you, seething. You didn't understand what was wrong; why he seemed so upset.
“You need to leave my student alone.” Professor Snow ordered your neighbor, Odysseus, in a firm baritone while using his hand to separate you and your bronze haired neighbor.
“It's fine, Professor Snow. Really, he's my neighbor.” You assure your tall and imposing teacher as he places a protective arm around your shoulder; pulling you into his side while acting as a large buffer between you and Odysseus.
Odysseus’ lips curled up into a deriding smile that dug into his dimples cheeks. Cocking his head slightly at the pristine platinum haired professor, he remarked in a mawkish tone, “Yea, Professor Snow, I live across the hall from her so we'll be seeing plenty of each other.”
Keeping you under his protective wing, Coriolanus craned his neck forward as he towers over the peacock of a bronze haired boy, while coldly stating, “I know exactly what boys like you, Mr. Odair, want from girls like Miss Y/N and I’m not going to let you taint her reputation. Neighbor or not.” Waving him off with a dismissive flick of the wrist, the professor ordered your neighbor to, “Stay away from Miss Y/N or else you might find yourself on an academic probation.”
Odysseus shook his head in disgust and disbelief before stalking off. Honestly, he couldn't believe that you just let your cold, overbearing, astute professor take control over the situation that was your neighborly friendship and turn it into some knight in shining toilfoil coming to an unneeded rescue moment. The sea-green eyed man couldn't help, but have an uneasy feeling about Professor Snow swooping in on you under the guise as your protector.
You're a freshman at the University, you don't need some distinguished professor that's all washed up (everyone in Capitol City knows how Coriolanus Snow aimed high and fell short in his ambitions) ‘protecting’ you from a young man your age.
Coriolanus couldn't help, but to let a smug, triumphant smirk paint his lips as he watched Odysseus Odair slump his shoulder and scurry off in defeat. Yes, once again Snow lands on top.
And Snow’s going to be the only man landing on top of you too. That he'll make sure of.
Coriolanus’ face contorted from a smugly victorious to stricken with concern before he turns to you. His baritone is deep with care as he tells you, “Although Mr. Odair's your neighbor, you need to stay away from him, darling. He's a skirt chaser with a nasty reputation on campus; boys like that'll just use you and leave you.” Patting your cheek, he adds in, “I'd hate to see my best and brightest pupil get hurt.”
Unable to believe your ears, you ask in awe, “I’m your best pupil?”
“Yes, Miss Y/N, you truly are.” Professor Snow nods. Clutching the strap of his leather satchel, he informs you with a thin lipped smile, “In fact, I find your insight on the course material we're currently working on to be very refreshing and mentally stimulating.”
Did you just hear him right? He can't mean that, can he? “Really?” You blurt out in a surprised tone.
“Really.” Your platinum blonde professor nods. “Do you have a class I could escort you to before I leave, just to make sure you're safe from Mr. Odair's nefarious intentions?” He asks, sounding like a concerned angelic man with a heart of gold.
But little do you know that he's as angelic as Lucifer himself; his heart of gold is pitch black and full of selfish desires.
“Oh, I don't have any more classes. Yours was my last one.” You innocently inform Professor Snow, causing the cunning and calculating man to do a mental happy dance hidden behind a neutral mask.
Coriolanus knows that what he's going to do is unethical, but he doesn't care. As long as he gets what he wants, which is you in his bed, he'll break every rule. All of his other dreams are unobtainable, but not you.
No.
His dream of being with you is right in reach and he's going to snatch it up greedily in his large hands.
Coriolanus gives you a smile that's more manic then friendly, as he suggests, “Why don't you join me for a bite to eat? We can always discuss your thoughts on politics or anything related to my class, if you'd like.”
Professor Snow thinks you're his best student and wants to grab something to eat with you to discuss politics and his class with you. Oh wow! You can't believe it. You didn't think you were that great of a student, surely one of the boys must have a higher aptitude for politics. It is, after all, usually a man's world and subject.
“Okay.” You simply reply with a small, flattered smile.
“I know the perfect place.” Coriolanus told you, guiding you into the direction of the parking lot and in extension his black luxury sedan was parked. “I'm positive you'll enjoy the food there.�� A slightly sinister smirk crossed over his face as he lightly remarked, “And the wine’s to die for.”
“I'm not old enough to drink wine, Professor Snow.” You remind your professor, who has to be close to thirty.
“Well, you just let me order for us and nobody’ll know how young you really are.” Professor Snow tells you, his tone sounding mirthful and secretive, as he sips his face a bit too close towards yours.
His disposition changes as he holds his head up high and points his car out on the approaching lot. “That's my car right over there, darling. Nice, isn't it?”
“Yes, it's very nice.” You agree with a nod. In fact, his car seems nicer than the one your family has. You even tell him that too, earning you a chuckle from him.
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The place Professor Snow took you to was a quaint, but upscale restaurant close to the Corso. The food was very delicious and the wine, as he said, was to die for. True to his word, your professor ordered for both of you and nobody was none the wiser that perhaps you shouldn't be drinking the wine.
But right before desert was going to be served you excused yourself to go to the bathroom. And that's when Coriolanus decided to enact the most vital part of his plan. Something that you knew nothing about; would never believe if told either.
As you wash your hands in the powder room, you look in the mirror and wonder if it's odd that you feel a bit giddy from eating with Professor Snow. You'd be lying if you said that you didn't have a tiny crush on the handsome, distinguished man. Because, you really do have a teeny tiny crush on him. But a girl would have to be blonde not to simp over the man with the perfectly styled platinum curls, striking baby blue eyes, prominent nose with a set of perfect pearly whites.
Deciding that you needed to stop being silly, you splashes some water on your face and took a deep breath before exiting the ladies room.
“Our deserts just arrived, darling.” Professor Snow smiles,gesturing towards the rich dark chocolate cheesecakes set in front of your place settings.
“Oh, you didn't have to wait for me, Professor Snow.” You tell him, feeling a bit embarrassed that he's been sitting and looking at his cheesecake instead of eating because he was waiting on you.
“Nonsense, Y/N.” The platinum blonde picked up his fork. “My Grandma'am taught me that a gentleman always waits for a lady arrive to start a course.” Professor Snow scoops a piece of his cheesecake with his fork while you reach for your own fork. Bringing his bite of the chocolate desert to his lush lips, he smirks, “That includes desert.”
You're using your fork to dig into your own desert whenever your professor pulls the fork from his lips and tells you, “Please, call me Coriolanus.” Digging back into his cheesecake, he adds, “Or Coryo, if you'd like.”
In between eating your desert, you ask, “Is that allowed? I'm your student.”
“I can't see why we can't be friends outside of class. We're two adults that can manage a friendship, aren't we?”
“Yes, but you're like 30.”
Coriolanus narrowed his icy eyes; his mouth sourly puckered as he tarly told you, “Oh, darling, don't age me. I'm a Scorpio; I’m only turning 28 this All Hallows Eve.”
“Oh, you're the same age as my older brother.” You blurt out, causing Coriolanus to just let out a silent huff.
Honestly, he already knew that. He knows that your older brother's Rein Halvir. He remembers the idiot from their days in the Academy. And, frankly, he's glad he hasn't run into him since being back in the Capitol.
“Yes, I believe I attended the Academy with him.” Coriolanus said, pretending to take his brain for your sake. “Is he faring well?” He asked, his eyes lighting up with a slight sparkle as you reached for your win glass.
You think it's nice that Coriolanus asked about your brother. So, of course, you answer his inquiry with, “Rein’s an officer in the peacekeepers. He's stationed in District 12; has a girlfriend and two kids.”
“Capitolite or?...” The cerulean man asks, his deeply smooth tone falling of a cliff of a silent question. A question of District.
“Ashlie's from District 12- the Seam to be exact. Their kids were born on PK Base-D12 so they're registered as Capitol citizens.”
“Aha.” Coriolanus lifts his nose up, in both superiority and disgust.
Coriolanus once spent the summer of his 18th year of life in District 12 as a peacekeeper grunt while foolishly fancying himself in love with the songbird victor of the 10th Hunger Games. Unfortunately, it didn't end well. Sometimes he'd wonder if things could've been different, but then he remembers that him and the songbird were too different to ever work. And that if she truly loved him she wouldn't have betrayed him; try to poison him with a snake and leave him to die.
No, he's much better off without that Covey frontrunner whore in his life. Her love was toxic, made him feel like a fool. And if things had worked out with her then we would've never met you.
Coriolanus is without a doubt certain that you're the girl for him. Innocent, beautiful, young, and intelligent. Oh yes, he's surely met histch in you. And he's certain that you'll never betray his love.
No, not with how kind and gentle your smile is.
“My family's proud that my brother followed our father's military footsteps, but they're not too fond of his girlfriend or their kids.” Your father's still pissed that his grandchildren are half-District. “Believe it or not, I'm the family disappointment.” You admit to your professor, even tho a part of you knows you shouldn't, before taking a large sip of your wine.
Your admission took the platinum haired professor a back. He was quite befuddled by it. How could you, a smart and innocent angel of a girl be the family disappointment? It doesn't make any sense.
Scratching his chin in a pondering way, Coriolanus asked, “Why would you be a disappointment?” Resting his elbow on the table and curling his hand into a fist, which he rests his jaw against, he remarks in a stunned baritone, “You're my best student and I'm sure you're excelling in your other classes as well.”
Yes, Professor Snow just couldn't fathom why you're not good enough for your family. In his eyes, you're absolutely perfect. But yet again he does have an obsession with you that's just crossed over a dark line; maybe even a sick one too.
“I'm studying Political Science instead of enlisting in the Nursing Core or taking my place in society as a socialite.” You wanted to go back to eating your desert, but you were suddenly feeling a bit odd. You felt as you were getting a bit hazy. Maybe it was too hot in the restaurant? “My mother told my father to just let me study politics as a way to find myself an aspiring politician to marry.” You add, concluding your explanation of why you're a disappointment to the Halvir family name.
“I once had political aspirations, but alas it wasn't meant to be and I'm a political professor for the great University in all of Panem instead.” Coriolanus said with a bit of veiled excitement in his smooth timbre.
Oh, Coriolanus was internally giddy. His plan was perfect. Just a few more minutes and he'll have you right where he wants you.
“Are you alright, darling? You seem a bit flushed.” Coriolanus asked, fake concern in his baby blues, as he placed his fork down on his plate.
“I'm not sure, Coriolanus. I feel a bit hazy.” You honestly tell him. Oh no, are you tipsy? You can't be, it was only a glass of wine. “Maybe the wine was too strong?” You offer as you begin to feel as if the room's going to start spinning.
Coriolanus’ brows knit as he gives you a worried look. “I think we should get the check and leave, Y/N. You really don't look well and I'm a bit concerned.” Your professor suggests, making you believe that he truly was concerned about your well being.
“Okay.” You nod, feeling dizzy and drowsy.
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You must've passed out because the last thing you remember is feeling dizzy and drowsy while getting ready to leave the restaurant and then the next moment you're waking up in a strange bed. You automatically start panicking as you sit up. But before you can scream or scramble off the bed, a voice next to you sounds out with, “Oh, you're awake. Are you feeling better now, darling?”, and kills your fight or flight reactions.
You're with Professor Snow- uh Coriolanus. And he's not in his three piece suit anymore, instead he's in lounge pants and a casual shirt. What the?...
You look over at him, only to discover that he's laying on the bed, legs crossed at the ankle with his back leaning against the headboard. A pair of black frame glasses are perched on the bridge of his prominent nose as he reads a book. A book that’s cover looks well worn and battered.
“What happened? Why am I in bed with you?” You ask, feeling a bit confused.
“You don't remember walking out of the restaurant and falling out in the parking lot near my car?” He asked, closing his book and setting it on his nightstand before taking off his reading glasses and placing them on top of the book.
‘No.” You shake your head. “I don't.”
“Well, my darling,” Coriolanus gave you a sympathetic, but pointed look with his icy eyes, “Since you blacked out before I could get your address I brought you to my Corso penthouse.” Placing a large hand on your knee, he gave you a closed lip smile. “I don't want to startle you, but I took the liberties of changing you into a shirt of mine, for comfort.” Raising his hand up, to stop you from even thinking about opening your mouth, he said in a gentlemanly tone, “Don't worry, I didn't cross any lines; your underwear is still on.”
You should be creeped out, but instead you find it endearing that he was worried about your comfort and changed you into one of his shirts while you were passed out. Oh, no. Now you feel so embarrassed and stupid blacking out after a glass of wine. What's wrong with you? The wine couldn't have been that strong, could it?
“Thank you.” You murmur, casting your eyes down to stare at the hand that's on your thigh- Coriolanus' large hand. “I guess the wine was too strong for me.”
“Yes, I suppose it was.” The platinum blonde man next to you nodded. “I was worried about you; kept vigil by your tipsy side.”
Pushing his hand off your thigh, you tell him, “Thank you, but I should probably dress and catch a cab home.”
“Darling, you don't have to leave. You can stay here til you regain your senses; you'll be safe with me.”
“I'm fine.” You assure him, tone a bit snappier than you meant for it to be, as you sat on the edge of the bed.
Knowing you’d be dizzy and at risk for another blackout, Coriolanus leaned over and took your arm in his hand; stopping you from getting up. When you turned around to look at him from over your shoulder, his icy eyes had a hint of something guileful in them.
“Don't go, darling. Please.”
“Profes- Coriolanus, I can't stay here. You're my professor; it'd look bad and you could get into trouble.”
“Why would I get into trouble? I'm just letting you rest after getting tipsy off of some very strong wine.” The imposing man, who's more dangerous than sinai poisoning, pointed out while quickly taking a seat right next to you. Taking his hand off of arm and placing it on your chin, tilting it in a way so you'd be able to look him in the eye, he huskily asks, “Or are you afraid to stay with me because you want to get fucked by your cold, stoic, and oh so serious Professor Snow?” His face inches closer to yours as he asks, “I know I'm quite a handsome man, Y/N. So, I must ask, do you get all hot and bothered for your teacher?”
“You shouldn't be asking me this.”
“No, I shouldn't.” Coriolanus agrees with you, his lips ghosting over yours.
Your brain's in a fog and you're beginning to feel a bit woozy again whenever Coriolanus’ lips press against yours in a kiss that's a bit hard and hungry. A kiss that makes you feel lightheaded. And when you attempt to pull away from him, to break off the kiss, he places his hands on your cheeks and pulls your face into his.
His hands, so large and strong, hold your face still as his lips press against yours over and over again with messy enthusiasm. You gasp for air, parting your lips slightly, but it's all Coriolanus needs to deepen the kiss. His tongue slips effortlessly into your mouth, exploring it, as feelings of both dizziness and pleasure wash over you.
Honestly, you don't know how to feel. Your brain's like scrambled eggs right now. You can barely think, can barely tell what's up and what's down right now.
All you know is that your head’s spinning and your body feels like it's on fire; that your professor’s making out with you on his bed as if you've been lovers for years instead of barely knowing each other then inside of his classroom.
“Coryo-” You say when he ends your kiss, allowing you both to catch your breath, but you don't say anything else since that feeling of falling into a dark abyss threatens to take over you once more.
Your eyes grow spotty causing you to blink them in an attempt at clearer vision. All the while, Coriolanus is tenderly stroking your cheeks with a strange look on his face. “I know you're a bit tipsy still and as the older one amongst us I should do the honorable thing and let you rest, but after that kiss we shared I'm afraid I can't be a gentleman with you anymore.”
Coriolanus knows that you're about to lose control of your senses, from the spiked wine you drank, but he needs to have you agree to what he wants to do. He has to get you to say ‘yes’ so that he can remind you later on when you're fully functional that you want him; that you agreed to spend the night with him in his bed- fucking.
Yes, he might be a manipulative bastard that's a tad bit possessive and obsessive, but he's not a monster. Coriolanus does want you to trust him, despite that trust coming from his own tongue weaving a silver tale for you to believe and feel comfortable with.
“You want me, don't you, darling?” Coriolanus asked, softly running his thumbs over the apples of your cheeks while cradling your face in his large hands. Gazing into your eyes with his icy orbs, he demanded, “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”
Your a bit light headed and Coriolanus' words float around your head. It's as if you're underwater and his voice is just a garbled echo. Your ears seem to be ringing and you feel dazed.
All you can manage to do is give Coriolanus a lost look. You're feeling a bit wonky, can barely even make out what he's saying.
Coriolanus’ chest heaves and he internally chastises himself for being a bit heavy handed with drugging your wine. Yes, he wanted you pliable and to his will, but he doesn't want you blacked out the entire time he has his way with you.
Deciding that he needs to do something to sober you up, Coriolanus slaps you across the face. “Snap out of it, Y/N!” He orders in a deep, loud shout.
That seemed to stir something inside of you. Yes, you still felt a bit hazy, but the slap across your face paired with Coriolanus' loud shout seemed to cause your focus to return to you for a moment.
“I'm sorry, did I space out?” You ask your professor, whose baby blues are burning like hot coals with desire.
“Yes, baby, you did.” Coryo told you, soothingly stroking the cheek that he had just slapped. “I asked if you wanted to be with me; wanted to fuck me, but you just stared at me with glazed over eyes.”
“Coryo…” You sigh, feeling an unbearable heat cross over your cheeks. “We shouldn't do anything.”
“You haven't done anything before, have you?” The platinum blonde professor asked knowingly while subtly guiding you to the middle of his king sized bed.
“No.” You shake your head. Wringing your hands in your (his) shirt, you avert eye contact with him and add in, “Not really.”
“You're very special to me, Y/N. I've never met anyone as beautiful, bright, and innocent as you.” Coriolanus reveals in an eloquent speech that has your heart beating fast against your ribcage.
Truthfully, your heart's probably beating fast due to the drugged wine in your system, but since you're unaware of your state you just assume it's a romantic effect from his words. His carefully woven words.
“There's nothing wrong with us taking pleasure from each other, my darling.” He tells you like the master manipulator he is. He's working his magic on you, making your resolve start to crumble under his smooth and amorous words. Pressing his forehead against yours, he promises, “I’ll stay with you and I'll protect you, baby. I won't hurt you like those pervy boys your age would.”
Coriolanus pulled his forehead away from yours, only to press a kiss to your lips. A kiss that was soft and sensual. A kiss that he meant to be persuasive.
Time was ticking and Coriolanus knew that you'd be going back into lala land soon. Either he got you to say yes or he'd just tell you that you said yes once you came to later. But either way he's fucking your tight cunt.
“You want me to fuck you, right, baby.” The platinum blonde with a regal air around him told you, not asked.
You felt yourself begin to grow hazier by the minute. Your limbs even feel a bit heavier. Your tongue began to feel dry and heavy in your mouth and all you could manage to do was nod your head.
You felt as if your head was plunged back underwater. You felt everything around you feel muddled, but you did see Coriolanus give you a Cheshire grin before eagerly shedding his shirt and kissing you. A kiss that you barely felt due to the feeling of falling into an abyss.
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You blink your eyes and seem to come back to your senses once again as Coriolanus, your handsome professor, is naked above you, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy.
You couldn't help, but wonder how drunk you got to agree to this. Yes, you find him attractive, but Professor Snow's your teacher at University. This violates so many cod of conduct ethics.
“Oh my God!” You blurt out, causing Coryo to smirk at you.
“My big cock feels good in your tight cunt, huh, baby?” Coriolanus asked as he snapped his hips in a certain way that had his cock pressing deep against that special spongy spot deep inside of you. “Fuck, your cunt feels so good. So fucking good ‘round by cock, darling.”
Your cunt’s dripping wet and every movement Coriolanus makes causes you to shudder. It does feel very good. Hell, it feels better then all of the times you've ever been fingered.
“It feels good, Coryo.” You admit in a wispy moan.
You try to move your arms, but they feel a bit heavy. As if they're asleep. Coriolanus notices you trying to move your arms and just takes his hands off of your wrists and laces his hands in yours, all while telling you the saccharine lie of, “You're still a bit drunk, baby. Just let me hold your hands while we fuck; you can hold my back or something later."
He brings his face close to yours. His breath fans against your lips as he tells you, “You’re my good babygirl with such a sweet, tight cunt.”
“Coryo…” You whined as you felt pleasure begin to wash over you.
“That's it, baby. Cum for me. Cum right now like my good girl.” Coryo ordered in a husky tone as he pounded your pussy with such force that your body was moving up and down the bed.
His hard and fast thrusts had you cumming harder then you've ever cummed in your entire life. His name's spilling from your lips; your legs shake and spasm from your orgasm as you soak the sheets.
“Oh, I knew you were perfect.” Coryo groans at the sight of you squirting. Watching your juices gush out of you, only to roll down your crimson coated thighs has him in overdrive. His cock’s even harder and his balls are twitching; begging to empty their cum deep inside of your cunt.
Coriolanus wants to grab your legs and bend you like a pretzel so he can fuck you into his mattress, but he's afraid that you might try to lift your arms again. The less you move (without his help) the better. He can't have you realizing what he did to your wine, now can he? So, he settles for just using your laced hands to brace himself as he digs his knees into the mattress and fucks into your cunt as fast as he can.
Your limbs feel tingly as Coryo pistons into your cunt mercilessly. You feel a bit overwhelmed, perhaps even a bit oversensitive. “Coryo, it's too much.”
“You're getting oversensitive, baby. Just be a good girl and take what I give you for a few more minutes, yea?”
“Coryo, please.” Feeling a bit overwhelmed from everything, you cry. “Please.”
As sick and twisted as it sounds, seeing salty tears leak from your eyes and roll down your cheeks has Coryo shooting thick ropes of his hot cum deep into your puffy cunt while moaning out your name.
Coriolanus lets your hands go, only to slowly pull his cock out of your cunt. His icy eyes roll back into the back of his head at the sight of his white cum dripping out of your abused hole alone with a trickle of crimson- the proof that he took your virginity.
You're all his now...
He lays down next to you and pulls you into his side. “Don't worry, Y/N. You're my girl now and I'll take very good care of you.” He assures you while covering you both with his duvet.
“I'm your girl now?” You ask with an arched brow.
“We'll talk more about it in the morning when you're a bit more sober.” Coriolanus kisses you, making you think that when you were in the thick of your tipsiness you must've agreed to get involved with him.
Oh hell, how strong was that wine to make you so tipsy that you became Professor Snow’s girlfriend?
“Just rest, baby. You're safe here with me.” The platinum blonde, whose arms are protectively wrapped around you, coos in his deep baritone; lulling you back to dreamland.
A place that you've been in and out of all night.
And as you doze off Coriolanus looks at you with obsession shining in his cerulean eyes and a manic grin spread across his face. The darkness in his soul's quelled with the thought that you're his forever now.
Oh, yes. Now that he's got you in his penthouse he's never letting you go. But before he can truly begin to be the doting and devoted boyfriend to you, he needs to get rid of Festus Creed- the old Academy friend that gave him the drug he spiked your wine with. Well, Coriolanus supposes that if he poisons him at a teahouse and drinks the poison as well, but in a smaller dose, he'll be able to kill two birds with one stone.
He'll get rid of Festus before he can talk and he'll get you moving into his penthouse to take care of him after a near death experience.
Snow lands on top. And who knows, maybe one day with your father's backing Coriolanus might be able to wiggle his way into politics. And if not, well he has you.
And that's all that truly matters, isn't it? It should, considering what dark deeds he did to get you into his bed.
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