#trope: professor/teaching assistant

[cultofdionysusnet]

Check out this Ateez fic written by Aubrey!

hiiiii <333 I have lovedddd lovvvveeeddd alll of your works I actually spent my day reading each and everyone of them I love it so muchhh!! 😭❤️

I have a request teehee, could you write one where Sannie is like a professor in your college and there’s little teasing here and there and where he ends up having her alas!! DOM - SAN ‼️💋

his favourite

<prof!san x fem!reader>

Prof Choi likes playing favourites.

You’re his favourite.

Genres/Warnings: smut, dom professor Choi San, pwp, face fucking, unprotected sex, oral (m receive) ,mutual pining, age gap, size kink, cream pies, mild jealousy plot, sir kink, light bondage (just tying up reader) teasing, sexual tension, teaching assistantxteacher obv forbidden but we still eat it up anyway!

Word count: 12.3K

a/n: happy birthday to the man of my dreams </3 enjoy this little choi san birthday treat. i put my love into this so please love this as much as i did! and thank you @bro-atz for the tidbits of help as always 🩷

apply for taglist here!

You stare at the laptop screen, scanning through your details on the application form, double, and triple checking that everything was filled in correctly. 

“Which professors are you trying as a teaching assistant for?” Your roommate asks, her neck craning over to see you attaching the file to six different emails, to six different professors within the department, pretty much answering her question the moment she reads off each professor’s email. 

“Why not try for the department chair?”

You scrunch your eyebrows as if it’s the first time you’re hearing that. 

“Who?”

“Professor Choi?”

Your eyes widen, your neck almost getting whiplash from how fast you turned to your roommate at the sound of his name. 

“Why the fuck would I try him?” 

Your roommate shrugs in an attempt to hide her amused reaction from your reaction at his name. 

“Who knows? I’m confident he remembers you even though you spent only one semester with him”, she hums turning away to pour herself another ice drink from the pitcher. “On a serious note, you may as well just get all the help you can get. Besides, what are the chances that Prof Choi sees your email? He’s the department chair. I’m sure his mailbox is just flooded anyway.” 

True, you think to yourself, turning your head back to your laptop, and adding the professor’s email address in. But you still hesitate, staring at the application form, your cursor hovering over the send button. Your roommate looks over at you, and she decides that your wishy-washy behaviour is just being the biggest nuisance on earth, so her hand flies over yours and helps you to press send, and she watches you freak out at her while she giggles and escapes after committing her crime, chasing your roommate around the kitchen island for a good seven minutes.

Settling back down in defeat, you sigh in your hands, giving yourself pep talks. 

Right. 

The chances are close to zero that Prof Choi will see my application anyway. 

The chances of him remembering me are close to zero anyway. 

You shut your laptop, and the applications are completely erased from your mind. 

“Yo, check your emails, babe. The application results are out for me”, your roommate says, her eyes glued to her laptop screen. 

You settle yourself down across her, a chilled drink in your hand, pulling up your email inbox. As you expected, you see the subject headline ‘Teaching Assistant Application Results’, and you expand the email.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me”, you mutter, loud enough for your roommate to hear. Her head pops out from behind her screen. 

“Who did you get?”

“Choi San.”

Professor Choi San. His classes weren’t the bane of your existence—but he, himself was. 

And the fact that it only took one semester to solidify that claim. Almost everyone wanted to get into his class, so fucking many of them just squealing over how he looked almost god-like. You wonder how much of a swoon he would be, how much of the rumours that travelled down the stream were factual, though with thousands of students constantly fighting for a spot in his class, you sure were coloured surprised when you landed a spot in Professor Choi’s class. 

The moment he walked in, the whispers within the confines of the lecture hall erupted into gasps and squeals. Unfortunately, the rumours were right—the moment ProfessorChoi walked in, it was as if your eyes naturally followed his movement—confident strides in his steps dictated by his outfit—a simple dress shirt under a dark gray vest that accentuated his wide shoulders and skinny waist.  

He was so fucking handsome—his hair neatly slicked back, frameless glasses sat on his nose bridge, his sharp and small eyes hiding behind the lens. Undoubtedly, seeds of infatuation began lodging themselves in you. Well, it’s not like you had a chance with him anyway, especially when the gold band reflected from his ring finger being a huge indicator. Maybe keeping him as an eye candy would work out just fine. 

Prof Choi’s classes were interesting, and he as a professor, other than being a distraction during the majority of his classes, held his credentials. However, at times, some sarcastic comments would bubble to the surface, and even though he did tend to commend top-scoring students for tests, he still maintained professionalism for the most part—the content taught wasn’t rocket science anyway. You saw yourself being able to breeze through the syllabus for the most part until you received your grade for one of your essays. You stared at his comments, marked in red lines, circles, and words—tone cold and direct—not that you weren’t used to it, but this time? You felt his comments alongside him marking you down were completely unjustified. 

It was then that you pushed past the group of girls who would stay back after class to shamelessly flirt with him, under the guise of wanting to discuss more about the content taught that day, and you stood before the group, asking to speak to Prof Choi personally. Prof Choi did have people staying back after class to consult with him about grades, although they would stay shortly with him staying stern to his marking rubrics, but when he realised you weren’t backing down on top of the way you approached him so directly, it intrigued him.

His office was spacious, considering that he was the department chair—and without introductions, he had you dive in immediately in consultation. 

You wasted no time, flipping through the spent pages of your essay, pointing out areas where you felt his comments were unjustified. Prof Choi listened, and he refuted your points, some of which you decided to accept but not for one particular part;

“This part had no proper scientific support of your argument for this point-“

“Bullshit”, you cut him off. Prof Choi blinked, shocked at the blunt cut from you. His eyebrows were scrunched in confusion next, wondering if he heard right that a student not only just cut him off, but cussed at him.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s here. A small significance value is still something isn’t it?” You replied, pointing at the paragraph after. He glanced at the paper once more, forcing himself to focus while you fought back that your argument was supported. 

So you made Prof Choi sit before you and listen to your elaborations, and needless to say, he was rather impressed, although he had to hold his expression neutral. 

You came out of the consultation victorious—the day Prof Choi called you over after his class again, handing you your script, and you saw your total marks shooting up to a gorgeous score. Your head was so into the clouds that you returned a smirk along with a shrug—showing off your victory and satisfaction as your thanks—an I told you so, leaving the professor to stare after you in awe while you practically skipped to your seat. 

That sealed your fate. 

From then on, Prof Choi would have his attention on you—recognising which seat you picked to sit in in class, wondering why you hadn’t dared sit nearer. And when it came to picking people to answer questions, his gaze would fly to you immediately—either waiting to call you out once you raised your hand or simply calling you when he felt like it. For some sick reason, he finds the way your face scrunches up in stress when he calls your name in his honey-soaked voice amusing, and even adorable at times, though he would never admit it. But oh, did he love the comments and answers you would give him. 

Despite that assignment being the only one where you decided to consult Prof Choi, following every grade release of an assignment, he would single you out, especially after class, to fucking ask if you had questions regarding said assignment, which honestly started to freak you out—mostly because he never gave you the attention before, and you weren’t used to it. The whispering gossip in the class about you being the teacher’s pet slowly reached your ears too, and even Prof Choi heard it—and he only exacerbated that rumours by constantly giving you his attention. 

Every time you reached your dorm, the words that left your mouth which your roommate could recite verbatim, “I swear to god, Prof Choi has it out for me!”

Not to mention you were fucking relieved when the last day of his class rolled around, but unfortunately, his parting words to you were, “I’m sure I’ll see you around, y/n”. You did everything in your power to avoid getting into his class and even bumping into him, which seemed to work swell. 

Until now that is. 

Now here you are again, standing before the familiar heavy wooden door, staring up at the wooden plate, embossed with gold lettering “Department Chair Choi San” staring right at you. You had to physically drag yourself off your bed to prepare for the first day partnered with Prof Choi. And when your roommate’s words of “oh come on, he can’t be that bad. He’s hot!”, echoed through your ears, it all the more made you want to just ditch your first day by clawing your eyeballs out. 

You had to collect yourself before Prof Choi collected you. 

With a raised knuckle, you rap against the door, taking deep inhales in the process. His voice, which sounded deceivingly like honey, remained the same as you remembered. 

“Come in.”

You pause for a moment, embracing yourself before holding onto to doorknob and pushing his door open. 

There he was, Professor Choi, his eyes focused on the scripts on his desk, which had piled up. His space remained the same as you remembered, for the most part—shelves littered with awards and files, the same desktop taking up one-quarter of his huge ass desk, and the couch with the coffee table left to the side of the room. Prof Choi wore a stern look of concentration on his face, still preoccupied with finishing up marking his scripts. 

When his pen pauses and his gaze shifts towards the door, a small smile spreads across his face. He lifts his head and drops his pen, interlocking his fingers on his desk with growing amusement when his eyes meet yours. 

Fuck, he’s still so handsome.

“Professor Choi”, you greet, holding your expression neutral as you bow, forcing yourself not to fidget with your tote bag. 

“Y/n!” Prof Choi greets almost too enthusiastically. “I would assume you would be more than delighted when I picked you to be my teaching assistant.”

“Honoured, almost”, you reply. It’s taking all of your energy not to break his gaze. He’s staring at you with unreadable eyes, and you’re wondering if the fluttering in your chest is from the anxiety or the way Prof Choi is staring at you.

Prof Choi laughs, and it tickles your ears a little too good. 

“Sit. We have a lot to go through today”, he gestures to the seat before him, and you take it.

He switches on his monitor to his course syllabus and turns the monitor slightly towards you. 

“Oh, before we begin, it’s a pleasure meeting you again, y/n.”

Oh boy, was being Prof Choi’s teaching assistant a fucking handful. You knew it was gonna be rough, but to be assisting Professor Choi San? He was on another level—his schedule would be filled to the brim with meetings with the faculty on top of conducting classes weekly. You struggled in your first month, learning the ropes, especially from a busy and challenging professor like him. He wasn’t mean or cold at all, on the contrary, more direct and meticulous. Well, he had to be, considering his position. Nonetheless, it felt like he was always too busy to attend to your questions sometimes, and that would leave you to your own devices. 

You stand in the aisle, looking down at the assortment of foods lined up in the chiller. Has Prof eaten yet? Does he even eat? What does he even eat? By instinct, you pull out your phone and open his chat. 

[you]: Hi Prof. Have you eaten? I’m at the convenience store near the campus. I could grab something quick for you. 

A couple of minutes go by, but your phone doesn’t receive a ping, and you had to reach the office soon. So you pick up another tuna rice ball for the professor alongside yours before making a beeline for the cashier. 

Prof Choi hears the knock on his door and as usual, he utters his usual “come in”. His gaze lands on you, and he glances at the clock. 

“You’re on time today”, he points out. 

You furrow your eyebrows, confused. “I’m always on time, Professor.”

“You’re usually in a little earlier.”

“Right, because I got you this”, you reply, rustling through the plastic bag in your hands, fishing out the rice ball.

He looks up at you, confusion hinted in his expression. He doesn’t take the food yet. 

“What’s this?” 

“Tuna rice ball. Surely only having coffee in the morning is not filling your stomach.” 

You put the food in front of him. “Besides, I messaged you but you didn’t reply. So I just chose something safe. Unless you’re telling me you’re allergic to tuna or something.”

Prof Choi blinks. His hands reach out to take the snack from the desk, unwrapping the plastic packaging as he watches you leave his office to grab a mug of coffee. He glances over at his phone, and sure enough, your name is there with your message.

Since then, his reply would pop up in mere minutes whenever you asked him if he wanted anything to eat. 

Of course, the more you spent time with him, the more you grew comfortable, and all the thoughts you ever stressed about slowly faded off. Prof Choi grew more relaxed around you, internally grateful that you’re able to tank a significant fraction of his workload for him. Undoubtedly, you also come to realise that Prof Choi is human after all—he obviously would make mistakes, even as someone of his caliber, and deep inside, you found it rather cute, well, until you had to stop yourself from developing deranged thoughts. 

Not to mention, another problem seemed to pop up—his flirty banter. He likely picked up that it made you flustered sometimes, and since then, he wouldn’t let it go, relishing at the way pink creeps up your cheeks when he would say something that wasn’t like his ‘professor-self’, and at worst, feeding into your crooked thoughts. 

You stare at him as he types away, particularly, the metal band around his ring finger. You wonder who was the lucky lady who had the chance to be with him. You blink. 

What the hell were you thinking?

“It’s rude to stare, you know”, Prof Choi’s voice snapping you out of your daydreams. 

“I’m just wondering about your ring, that’s all”, you reply, forcing your attention back to your half-marked assignments.

“I’m not actually married”, he suddenly confesses, and for some reason, it makes your heart beat slightly faster. 

“Huh?” Is all you manage to reply. 

Prof Choi chuckles. He pauses his work on the desktop, turning his attention to you. Even though you have worked so closely with him for a while already, you can never seem to find your composure around him. 

Even though you see his face every week, you can’t seem to wrap your head around how insanely good-looking he is, how sometimes you struggle to maintain eye contact with him, because it doesn’t take long before you feel yourself slowly flushing. 

“I wear it on my ring finger so the students stop asking about my marital status”, Prof Choi clarifies. You watch him pull the ring from his ring finger and fit it over his index. 

“So you’re single”, you echo.

He nods, “I’m single.” 

What is this strange feeling of relief?

“What about you?” He suddenly asks. You’re not looking directly at him, and you don’t realise the way he’s looking at you attentively. And if you do, you just might combust.

“I’m…single too”, you answer, trying to meet his gaze, fidgeting with the red pen in between your fingers. 

“And why’s that? Too busy fighting with your professors for grades?”

You glare at him. 

“I think it was my professor picking fights with me”, you reply quickly, jabbing right back at him. 

You watch Prof Choi lower his gaze, a smile spreading across his cheeks—an actual smile—his dimples showing up. Oh fuck. Just when you thought you could depend on your ribcage to contain your heart properly, you found out Prof Choi could actually smile. 

When he looks up at you again, you break the eye contact, your gaze flying back to the papers before you. 

“You know, I’ve met many students, but you were the first to cuss out at me.”

You did? “I did?”

Your professor nods, cocking his eyebrow at the way you had seemed to have simply forgotten something as eventful as that. 

This time, Professor Choi bursts into a chuckle, completely amused by your reaction. 

“Is that why you kept-“

“Giving you chances to answer in class for credit? You should really thank me for that. Your grade for my class was one of the highest you know.”

You feel your cheeks flush. But before you can retaliate, Prof Choi cuts you off.

“Jokes aside, no. I think the discussion we had that afternoon had an impression on me. The cherry on top was you cussing at me. I liked that. Refreshing and endearing”, Prof Choi continues, his attention seeping back to the pile of scripts before him. 

“I think this side of Professor is pretty refreshing and endearing too”, you let it slip.

His pen pauses in mid-air. You don’t catch his gaze completely softening on you. 

As the semester continues on, you began easing into the class schedules. You watch prof get swarmed by a group of students, a usual ritual that happens right when the class ends. At this point, you had grown used to it. Sometimes the students would come and approach you instead, which honestly surprised you, but your heart would feel warm, knowing that these students trusted you.

It was then you became acquainted with another teaching assistant under Prof Choi, who joined shortly after you did—Choi Jongho. Initially, he came off as a rather shy individual, but the both of you warmed up quickly with each other, sharing the workload and bonding over gossip with each other. Gosh, was he fucking amazing with gossip, especially when it came to Professor Choi. Soon enough, the both of you were texting almost on a regular basis, the conversations weighing more towards academic topics sprinkled with a little gossip. 

“You’re going off with Choi Jongho?”

“Yeah”, you reply, bunching the papers in your hands. “I’ve got some things to discuss with him about.” Partially true. 

For some reason, even though your professor has been completely swamped with papers to grade and meetings to attend, you would always find him loitering around your desk from time to time. He seems to especially enjoy doing that when you’re around. 

“You’ve been spending an awfully lot amount of time with him”, Prof Choi points out, looking over your shoulder as he watches you scribble on another student’s paper. 

“Yeah, we get along well actually. Isn’t that a good thing, Prof? Both your teaching assistants are besties.”

For some reason, that makes Prof Choi frown, but you’re too absorbed in your work to notice it.

A couple of minutes go by, and you still feel his presence, not that you mind, but you’re starting to find it peculiar that he’s been hanging around your desk a lot recently.

“Do you have something to discuss with me, prof?” You ask, eyes still glued to the paper.

“Yes”, he replies, taking another sip from his mug. “What do you think of Choi Jongho?”

Such a random question to ask, you think. Maybe he’s just making sure you and Jongho get along well?

You pause, giving yourself to think, tapping the back of the red pen against your bottom lip, taken aback by Prof Choi’s sudden question, but the conversations you and Jongho had resurfacing into your brain, and a giggle escapes you, which makes Professor Choi subconsciously narrow his eyes and furrow his brows. 

“He’s fun to be around, and despite how he looks, he’s actually got a wicked sense of humor. Oh god, wait. Let me tell you what you he did that day while we were having lunch together-“

You turn your head to continue to run your mouth, only to slowly trail off when realise his face is just inches from yours, and you swear your heart is on a treadmill from the lack of distance between you and Prof Choi. It’s as if time paused, the both of you sinking right into each other’s gazes. You can’t help but notice how intense his gaze is, and you can’t seem to decipher his thoughts, but from the way this situation played out, you swore he’d just lean in and kiss you. 

Your heartbeat accelerates at the thought—why would he do that?

And when his fingers are on your chin, your rational thoughts are getting flushed out. 

“That’s an awful lot of cute things about Choi Jongho. I’ve never heard you talk about another Choi like that.”

You swallow hard, your body still frozen in spot. 

“What do you think about him then?” 

“Jongho? I was just-“

“No. Choi San.”

Oh god. You could only stare back at him. Prof Choi tilts his head, his eyebrows raised, waiting for his answer. His cologne floats and almost shuts down your senses—has he always smelled this good? 

The corner of his lips curl slightly at the way you’re staring at him like a deer in the headlights. 

“I t-think Prof-“

“San. Choi San”, he corrects you. 

Another hard swallow the more you try to focus your gaze on him. 

“I think Choi San’s a great professor. He’s really competent, a lot softer than he presents himself as-“

Fuck you can’t think. Not when he’s staring down your eyes to your lips like that. 

“Mmhm.”

“And he’s really so-“

Then a loud knock echoes across the room, breaking the tension. Prof Choi’s body doesn’t shift, but he looks up at the door, shouting “door’s unlocked”, before he stands back upright, adjusting his glasses and walking back to his desk. 

Jongho’s head peeks in, then he bows at Prof Choi before he walks to your desk. You stare up at him with a forced smile. 

“Ready to go? I was waiting for your message”, Jongho says, his eyes glancing over the professor, then you, a strange feeling that he probably interrupted something. 

You nod, while shoving your belongings into your bag, then slinging it on your shoulder. 

Barely being able to look at Professor Choi, you still force yourself to, bowing goodbye to him. 

“Thank you Prof Choi. See you tomorrow.”

He looks up from his desk, right into your eyes. 

“See you too, y/n.” 

You can’t help but wonder how far things would have gone if Jongho didn’t knock the door.

Jongho isn’t an idiot. Initially, he assumes that you and the professor were on much friendlier terms considering that you came in before he did. Granted, the workload he would give the both of you was the same, he would take the initiative to have lunch with the both of you both individually and together whenever he had pockets of free time, but what roused his awareness was the lingering glances Professor Choi would cast at you from time to time, the way he seemed to relish the reactions you would give him whenever he teased you. 

He notices the way your ears would grow red even when you roll your eyes at the professor and jab him with another playful snarky remark. 

Though he wonders how dangerous things could get, Jongho thinks this could get interesting. 

The semester continues smoothly, the only change being that Jongho being absent from the office more often due to his other commitment to soccer. You remember him telling you he had quite a big match coming up, the sparkle in his eyes bright and twinkling whenever he talks about said sport. 

If he wasn’t in classes, he’d be off for training, hopping into the office from time to time to pass Professor Choi marked scripts and reports. Prof Choi pretty much didn’t mind—he stated as long as Jongho did his job, he could be free to do what he wanted outside of being a teaching assistant.

Needless to say, the office was mostly Prof Choi and you, now even more time spent with him with Jongho mostly being absent. By then, the both of you had grown so accustomed to being in each other’s presence that banters amongst each other became the norm—the both of you competing with each other with unserious remarks, laced with almost flirtatiousness, just to see who would back down first. 

Then came the proximity—since Prof Choi would wander over your desk as if he had all the free time in the world, he would somehow strike up another conversation with you, leaning over to hear you better, his arm bumping into yours to look over at the papers you were grading to check if you were doing them correctly. But what he absolutely adores the most is when you’d roll over to his desk to pester him with your questions—sometimes even testing him on his own content. 

He likes the way he gets to be closer to you. He likes the way your shoulders touch his when you lean in to push the paper towards him so he can see the script better. 

He likes the way you would finally look up and meet his eyes when you’re done formulating your question, waiting to hear his opinion.

Today is no different—Professor Choi being so used to the notion that he would only be seeing you in the office, the corner of his lips pull upwards at the thought of the types of banter you would have with him, the kinds of shenanigans you would bring into the office.

He hears your knock at the time you would always arrive, watching the way the door opens, and your head popping from the door, as you greet, “Hi Prof!” 

“Good morning, y/n”, he would greet back, sipping on his morning coffee. 

You walk over to his desk, dropping his tuna rice ball. “Here you go. Enjoy your breakfast, Prof!”

“You can stop calling me Prof”, Prof Choi suddenly says, twirling the pen in his hand. For a second, you wonder what triggered the sudden change. You’ve been calling him Prof since day one, pretty much used to it already, the only time you didn’t was when he—never mind. The thought of it is making your face flush again. 

“Is there something else you want me to call you?” You ask, trying to calm your heartbeat down when that memory suddenly resurfaces. 

“You can call me San. I’m fine with that. I know you’re still my teaching assistant but we’ve been working closely. I think it’s fine to drop the Prof honorific.”

You try out. 

“Sure thing San”, you reply. “Though it’s gonna take a while for me to get used to this.”

“If you’re able to cuss in front of me, calling me by my name should be the least of your worries, y/n”, San teases.

You raise your hand, feigning a stance ready to smack him before you lower your arm, listening to the way San laughs before rolling your eyes and sinking into your desk. 

The day marches on as normal—attending a class or two with Jongho before he’s whisked away to his soccer practice, leaving just the two of you for the rest of the day. 

San is leaning at your desk again, looking at you typing out your report. He squints slightly before he leans down to your shoulder, his finger pointed at one of the paragraphs, asking you about the content. You answer him, and when you turn your head once you’re done, you find yourself looking at San’s side profile mere inches away—his sun-kissed skin, his pretty lashes, his thick, well-trimmed eyebrows, and the way his lips protrude out a little—he always looked like he’s pouting in the most adorable way. 

That’s when you realise a problem seemed to be bubbling up to the surface, try as you might to ignore it, repress it—that you’re falling for your professor. Fast. 

You snap back to reality, finally aware of how loud your heart is beating against your rib cage, and your hand flies up in instinct as a divider between you and San. San blinks at the sudden movement, confused. 

“Y/n, what are you doing?” He’s not moving. 

“I think I’ve got something on my face.”

San cocks an eyebrow. “You do? Let me check-“ 

His palm covers yours, bringing it down to the table, and you’re kicking yourself for sprouting such a self-sabotaging lie.

Why? Because now San has his hand on yours on top of his face in full view of yours, his eyes meeting yours before his gaze flutters around your face, checking for whatever hell you said was on your face. 

His gaze meets yours and for a split second, something else glints in his eyes. 

The door swings open, and San straightens himself up, slightly irritated at the interruption, leaving you to spin your chair away from San, your hands cupping your cheeks, the heat warming you up against the cold air conditioner. The heat from his hand on yours lingers for a little longer. 

Jongho walks in, his duffel slinging on his shoulder with his shoe bag clipped. 

“Hey, Prof. Hey cutie.” 

San blinks. What did he just call you?

“Hey jjongie. Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” You ask, forcing yourself to focus on your colleague instead. 

“Supposedly, yeah, but there was a sudden downpour midway so training got cancelled. Might as well get some work done here”, he shrugs, dropping his bag onto the floor. 

San is wrapping his head around the fact that you and Jongho seem to have pet names for each other. 

“Didn’t miss me too much right?” Jongho teases. “‘Cause I did!”

“That’s a first coming from you jjongie”, you reply, surprising a smile. 

“Of course! It’s been a while, how could I not? We should go eat dinner together sometime.”

San only stares on in silence, pretending to sink back into his grading.

Jongho walks over to your desk, taking his turn to look at your report. San watches the way Jongho’s arm is comfortable over your seat, as he asks you about your report, talking to you as if San wasn’t just behind you seconds before. 

The fact you’re entertaining him—hitting his arm playfully and laughing at his remarks—all the more rouses some kind of irritation in San. It’s like a boiling pot. 

He pretends he doesn’t see the way Jongho leans in to whisper something into your ear although it’s bugging him so fucking much. For once, he wishes Jongho’s training didn’t cancel. 

“Oh right before I forget”, Jongho mutters, rushing back to his desk, digging through his bag. He walks back over with a paper in hand and places it before you. You glance down and your face brightens up—it’s a ticket to his game. 

“For real?” You exclaim, your eyes bright, taking the ticket in your hands. “I’ll definitely make time for you.”

“I’ll score goals for you, kay?” Jongho teases, his eyes glancing at San, who is progressively looking more irritated. 

“Ah, Is San not going?” 

“San? Since when were you on first name basis with him?” Jongho wonders aloud, the suspicion only brewing even more. 

“Jongho, don’t you have reports to hand in?” San asks curtly. 

You feel like you are caught in between crossfire for some reason. 

Jongho smiles, then has your head under his arm, which elicits another irritated reaction from your professor. 

You have never had Jongho done this before. In fact, you recall him offhandedly mentioning that he’s never a physical touch person, and that anything with physical touch makes him shudder. 

“Relax, Prof. You’d rather your subordinates get along than not right?”

Just when San is about to reply, Jongho suddenly exclaims. 

“AH, coach is calling me back to the field. Prof, I’ll send you the report by tomorrow okay? See you guys!”, Jongho hums as he runs back to his desktop to turn it off. 

“Has he always been like that?” San wonders aloud, his eyebrows furrowed. 

“I guess. It’s actually what makes him cute.”

“Cute? You think Jongho is…cute?” 

“Is he not? Doesn’t he remind you of a bear? Big and cuddly.”

San clears his throat, and you watch him walk over to your desk, his hand resting on the tabletop. He leans in. 

“So… you find it cute when he gives you pet names?”

“Well, I mean-“

“You find it cute when he plays with your hair?” San curls your locks around his fingers. 

You can’t seem to get words to leave your throat. 

“You find it cute when he has his hands all over you like that?” He’s leaning in even closer this time, arms trapping you at either side.

“Prof-“

“No. It’s sir.”

Your mind is in a whirlwind at the way he’s towering over you, his scent the only thing filling your olfactory senses, the way he’s staring right into you, gaze sharp as a blade. 

“You find it cute when his touches run up your body like this?” His fingers are trailing up your arms, every touch he burns into your skin, and when his thumb pauses at your chin, you realise you’re royally fucked.

Once more, his face is mere inches away from yours. You wonder if you’ll be teased like two previous times before. 

“Of course you don’t. You’d rather I do that to you, right?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Yes, sir.”

His voice is barely a whisper, his eyes downcast, staring at your lips like it’s his reward to claim. 

“Good girl.”

Of course, he claims it.

His kisses are so greedy—his lips prying yours open, and you feel yourself completely give in to him, surrendering whatever resistance, rationale, repression to Choi San. 

You want more—you want seconds. Every swipe his tongue passes your lip, it makes your head float. How does someone taste this fucking good?

He pauses mid-way—barely a couple of seconds, to pull off his glasses and strew them across the desk—then goes back to devouring your lips. 

San would smile in between kisses when he hears your whimpers. He thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you tremble slightly at his touch. It all goes straight to his cock. 

He thinks you’ll be even more adorable when he ruins you. 

When San pulls back, he swipes his thumb across your bottom lip, watching your glazed-out expression with amusement. 

"I'd love to continue messing you up, but I have a meeting to attend. I’ll deal with you later, sweetheart. See you next week.”

His touch lingers on your chin for a couple of seconds longer before he pulls away and shifts to walk back to his desk, leaving your heartbeat wild and erratic, and your thighs squeezed tighter.

Since then, that was all you ever thought about—the slight smile before his lips collided with yours, the way his words rang in your ears. You could barely meet his eyes. 

In more instances than one and with any chance given to him, he’d close up any physical distance he had with you. Worried that your emotions would bubble and overflow when he does that, you developed a habit of avoiding his eye contact. 

Even after classes, you swore he was casting you glances even with lines of students waiting to talk to him. 

“Did you piss Prof off or something?” Jongho asks as he shuts his laptop. 

“Why are you asking?”

He shrugs. “It’s just that he’s been eyeing you down like a hawk recently. Did something happen between the both of you?”

You freeze when the flashbacks of the taste of his lips return to your memory when you remember how hungry he looked just wanting to devour you. 

“Y/n?”

You blink, then force yourself to meet Jongho’s eyes. 

“No. Nothing happened. At least I hope I didn’t make any mistakes.”

“You’re fine. There’s a reason why the department chair chose his teaching assistants.”

You laugh softly at his words.

But when you hear San’s voice from behind you, you almost jump. 

“Y/n, Jongho, the both of you can wrap up here and head back to the office”, he instructs. You feel his warmth radiating from behind, and it only makes your heart jump at the proximity. 

You watch Jongho slowly pack up, small conversations sparking between the both of you about his soccer practice. 

You glance at the door. San isn’t back yet. 

“I think it’ll take him awhile to be back. The students there seem to really like him.” 

No doubt, the female students for this class seemed a lot more assertive, almost always demanding all of San’s time. Well, not that it should matter. It’s not as if he should mean anything-

“Y/n? Are you okay? You seem pretty off recently. Even Prof’s pretty worried”, Jongho’s voice grounding you back to the cold office. 

You force a smile and shake your head. 

“I’m fine. I guess it’s just so much workload to deal with.” 

Jongho places his hand on your shoulder in comfort, “You’re doing fine. You know you can approach either of us if you’re struggling right?”

You feel comforted, even though your messy thoughts weren’t even about the workload, so you return an assured smile before waving Jongho off for his soccer practice. 

You’re wondering what you’re feeling nervous about, because when the door of San’s room opens, you jolt slightly. 

“You’re still here?” You hear San ask. 

“Yeah. Need to reply to some emails and double-check some of their assignments.” Not a total lie. It’s the swirling feelings he’s been giving you whenever that day surfaces in your mind, the small bouts of attention he pays you and the touches he lets linger a little too long that’s all a dopamine rush in you. You can’t help but want more. But in the same breath, meeting his gaze will allude doom for you. 

San nods as he sits back at his desk, going right back to his computer. The silence continues for awhile and you’re surprised that you’re even able to concentrate. 

“Y/n”, you hear San call you. 

Your gaze doesn’t break from your screen. “Hmm?”

“Come here. Help me look at this.”

You walk over, ignoring the way your heart is just pounding so damn loudly. It’s painfully obvious that San is staring right at your face, and it’s also painfully obvious that you’re avoiding looking at him. 

And it definitely seems to be ticking him off. 

Your eyes stay locked to his screen reading off whatever is on the screen, and nothing is processing in your brain. 

“It looks good”, you curtly reply, trying to ignore the fact that you’re being stared down by a certain professor. You turn away, your eyes still not acknowledging San, only for your professor to stop you in your tracks. 

“Now where do you think you’re going?”

He’s making you face him now. 

You’re still not giving him eye contact. 

“Back to my desk?” You say, looking off into the distance. But San seems to have other plans. 

“You know ‘looks good’ isn’t the feedback I’m looking for, right?”

Shit. You know that clear as day. 

Now San has both his arms trapping you on his desk. 

You somehow still manage to avoid his sharp gaze even when you’re backing up against him, easily letting him corner you.

His belongings are strewn all over the desk when he pins you down. By some miracle, only papers flutter down his desk. 

And you’re finally looking right at him. 

“You’re finally looking at me, y/n”, he states the obvious. “Now tell me, did I do something wrong?” 

“No, you didn’t, sir”, you reply curtly. 

He leans in closer. 

“Then why are you avoiding my eye contact?”

You shut your eyes and squeeze them. There’s no pure way out of this—your dirty thoughts are seeping into the smallest crevices of your brain, and the more San is prodding you, the more it makes you throb.

“It’s because that evening when we…” you feel your cheeks burn with every word leaving your lips. 

San is waiting for you to continue. 

“When we kissed…couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“And?”

“It made me want…more.”

There’s a moment of silence.

“Has anyone told you how adorable you are when you’re honest?” He chuckles. “I’m gonna finish what we started sweetheart, like I promised.”

It makes your heart flutter. 

“Am I getting your consent for this?”, San’s voice rings in your ears. You’re finding it hard to focus, especially when his thumb is pushing past the corner of your lips, and you’re just growing wet as fuck. 

This is not right. This is so dangerous. 

“Yes sir”, you reply back, trying to ignore the way your cunt is just tingling from the feeling of San’s thick erection pressing against you.

“That’s my good girl”, he praises before he dives in for a hungry kiss, his fingers roaming around your body, squeezing your tits before he unbuttons your shirt at an agonising pace. He smiles on your lips when he hears your soft gasp, and he presses his lips down to your jaw and then to your neck, sucking and biting the soft skin against your neck, his erection growing tighter against his trousers when he hears you moan and squirm. 

When he’s satisfied with the light marks he decorated down your neck, his lips are pressed against your ear, and his hands are moving dangerously close to your cunt, and inevitably, your bottoms are off in seconds, leaving you in your pretty panties. 

“I would prefer fucking you on my bed instead for the first time, but taking you on my desk? Maybe not too bad.”

Your cunt squeezes at the sound of San cussing. You never thought he’d sound this fucking hot. 

He groans when his fingers press against the soaked patch of fabric hiding your pussy. All that wetness for him. He bunches up the fabric and rubs it against your clit, the friction drawing frustrated whimpers from you, much to his satisfaction. It feels so good but it’s not enough, and it’s driving you crazy.

San’s fingers finally hook against the waistband of your panties, sliding them off your legs, and pocketing them, much to your shock. 

And he doesn’t give you much time to focus on that because when he pulls his cock out from his unzipped pants, it makes your head spin from how thick Choi San is. 

“Sir, I’m not sure-“

“It’ll fit, sweetheart, like it’s made for me”, is all the warning San gives before he lines up to your hole and pushes his cock in. 

You can’t tell what’s fucking you up more—the way his cock is stretching you open or the San groaning in relief when he finally gets to stuff you full. 

You bat away your tears, his cock so fucking full inside of you, pressing against your walls, being squeezed so perfectly by you. 

God, Choi San thinks he’s in heaven. 

His fingers brush across your cheeks, collecting your teardrops. His eyes lack any ounce of empathy. 

“Aw, are you crying because it feels good? You look so fucking pretty crying when I’m stretching you open.”

You barely find the words to reply to him, all stuck in your throat, your mind only flooded by the way San’s cock is buried in your cunt, your thighs trembling from the pleasure. It’s almost sickening. You know you shouldn’t be doing this—not with your professor, not on his fucking desk, but when he has you wrapped you around his finger and cock fucking the daylights out of you, it’s a temptation you can never resist. 

A soft hiccup escapes past your lips when San pulls out almost all the way, his cock covered in a sheen of slick and precum before he pushes himself in once more, groaning when you clench around him for the nth time. 

“You feel so fucking good, sweetheart. God, I could just fuck you all day. You’d like that right?”

You’re barely keeping track, eyes rolled to the back of your head while your thighs twitch from the pleasure, but you manage to hold the eye contact, and through blurry tears, you mutter a weak, “Yes sir”. 

“Of course you do”, San hums before he pulls out once more and starts fucking you dumb on his desk. 

No matter how much you try to cover your mouth, bite your tongue or your lip, your moans only come out louder in defiance, the dopamine shooting up your pussy over and over again whenever San’s cock hits your pretty spots. 

Your mind is addicted to the way San’s shirt is buttoned down his chest, his cleavage almost fully out for you to gawk at, the way strands of his hair cling to his forehead because of the sweat, the way his eyes roll back when he feels you squeeze him with every loud fuck, and the way he looks down to you from time to time before he eats up your pathetic moans with hungry kisses. 

He fucked you up so good, you didn’t even realise it until now. 

“S-San”, you manage out a whimper, “please…”

“Please what, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what you’re begging for. 

“Please… you feel so fucking good. I’m gonna cum. It’s so fucking good”, you babble, trying to force your eyes open. 

San can’t help but smirk when his ego is being stroked so nicely like that, especially by you. He’s a good person, of course, he’ll give what his good girl wants. 

His thumb slides south on your body until you feel the ticklish sensation of him on your clit. Cream and precum pooling at the base of his cock makes it even worse for you—with every graze, his finger pressed onto your clit, the knot tightened in your stomach. 

Your nonsensical strings of words only push San to tease you more as he endearingly watches you break slowly when your orgasm builds up. 

Your body twitches, your back arches, your eyes roll back, white splashes beneath your eyelids. Your orgasm burning through you while you cry out San’s name and you twitch pathetically on his cock, letting your cream leak all over his wet cock. 

“Fuck. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, aren’t you?”, you hear San curse. He fucks you through your orgasm, the overstimulation building up. The sensitivity feels so fucking good. 

His hand catches your jaw, and he forces you to meet his eyes. 

“Wanna pump you full of my cum, keep you so fuckin’ full for days on end,” he huffs, “but not now, sweetheart.”

Not that you minded, but there’s a strange tinge of disappointment ringing at the back of your head. 

San thrusts into you a couple more times before he pulls out, his thick and wet cock resting on your pelvis, twitching as his hand takes over. 

Nothing can beat Choi San’s fucking face when he cums. He looks like he’s in fucking heaven, and he’s tearing up the sky because of you. His fingers leave light marks on your thighs, you hear him groan at such a low tone that your cunt flutters uselessly against the air. Translucent spurts land on your skin, but it barely registers in you—you’re too busy swooning over the way your Professor just cummed over your body. 

San’s high dies down, and he catches his breath, casting you a glance, red dusting his cheeks, before he reaches out for the tissue box to clean you up. 

A quick kiss on the lips before he goes on to collect all the papers all over the floor.

That night he drives you home, filling the space with light conversations as if he didn’t just railed you on his desk. 

It’s only when you reach home that you realise one important thing—San still has your panties. 

You know you shouldn’t be telling secrets to your colleague, especially when it’s about your fucking boss. But here you are, facing Jongho, who has his arms crossed in front of you. 

“What’s up with you and Prof?” You predict the words that leave his lips. 

You hesitate to tell him, unsure how you should even say it, where to even start. 

The worst part you knew clear as day was that nothing changed since that day. You chalked it off as San being swamped with assignments to deal with, that’s why the topic was never brought up again, but something still irked you. The only comfort you had was that the semester was ending, and so was your term as San’s teaching assistant. 

Maybe it was how it was meant to be. Just nothing more than that.

But when you realise the dreaded feeling prickling at the back of your eyes, you knew you were fucked. 

“I don’t know how to even start jjong”, you sigh. Jongho scrunches his eyebrows. 

You watch his expression switch from one to the other. You expected him to freak out at you, yell at you for unprofessionalism or something, but he doesn’t. 

“It’s so fucked up. But I just can’t help but wonder if he feels anything”, you mutter. The thought of you not being the only one he’s doing this with makes your stomach churn. But somehow, in the most twisted ways, confiding Jongho made you feel slightly better. 

“Well, looks like we’ll have to play that card I guess”, Jongho shrugs. “But you should mentally prepare yourself for the results, that’s all I gotta warn you. I just need your consent to play along.”

It’s a risky bet you’re playing, but drastic times called for drastic measures, right?

As the semester closes to its end, so does the workload. San feels a lot lighter on his shoulders, and while he’s grateful for his teaching assistants for lifting a significant amount of workload off him, the end of a semester meant the end of the working relationship between him and his teaching assistants. He usually doesn’t feel that much, considering he has had many teaching assistants in the past, but for some reason, he feels a sense of discomfort lodged in his stomach when he thinks about having to let them go.

Especially one of them. 

He sighs, removing his glasses from his nose and shutting his eyes while reviewing the exams. San feels like a fucking idiot when his eyes land on your empty desk, his frustration bubbling when you cross his mind again. 

Even though he pretends to keep himself busy by flooding his mind with work, somehow, you would bubble to the surface once more, pushing him into the pits of frustration when he’s reminded of the way you get a kick arguing and refuting him just to get a reaction out of him, the way you taste like sweetest thing on earth he’s ever tried and the way you completely unravel when San fucks every single thought out of you—

He bites his cheek. 

No. He has to keep it professional. At least, until the term is over. 

He just doesn’t know how to tell you. 

He knows he’s entered deep waters when he crossed the line that evening, the sight of you undone right before him snapping all his rationale. More than anything, he’s suffering the withdrawals, maybe that’s the punishment he has to bear. 

He glances at the colourful ticket at the corner of his desk. It’s Jongho’s big game. Even though he usually doesn’t let himself intertwine with his subordinate’s personal interests, it’s hard not to. 

In addition, you’ll be there. Maybe he’d snag you after the game and talk to you properly. 

The meeting ran overtime, San glances down at his silver watch, realising he’d missed almost thirty minutes of Jongho’s game. Despite the exhaustion, he pushes it aside and heads to the stadium. 

He watches the brightly lit scoreboard as he takes a seat on the bench, Jongho’s team is in the lead by one point. 

Somehow he gets wrapped up in the game, cheering when Jongho’s team takes championship as the benches all burst into loud cheers too. 

He gets up to leave, already thinking of drafting a text to congratulate Jongho in his head, maybe get him a small congratulatory gift on the side. 

Then he spots you, just rows below. Now, he’s walking down as if on instinct, to get to where you are.

San pushes past the crowd to approach you. He’ll offer to drive you back—he knows it’s all an excuse but anything to get you into his space once more. 

His arm outstretched, reaching out to tap your shoulder, then suddenly stopping when he sees Jongho appear right in front of you. That��s fine. San could just congratulate him at the same time—

Which all of those thoughts immediately disintegrate when he watches Jongho cup your cheeks with his hand, his eyes widening in complete silent horror as Jongho leans into you for a kiss. 

You seriously doubt that Jongho’s plan would work. Didn’t San decide not to come anyway? You heard it with your own ears too. 

Nonetheless, you pushed it to the back of your mind, focusing on cheering for your friend, watching the leading scorer jump from one team to the next. You couldn’t help but erupt into cheers when Jongho’s team won, screams echoing through the open stadium. 

You watch Jongho walk up to the benches where you are, and his arms wrap around you, his smile big and bright, competing with the stadium lights. 

“Congratulations, baby bear”, you tease, pushing against his shoulders lightly. Jongho inches close to you. 

“He’s behind you by the way”, Jongho mutters, loud enough for you to hear, but not long enough for you to process, because his hands are cupping your jaw, his thumb pressed against your lips. 

He hears you muffle some kind of question but your lips stay sealed. 

“You owe me one for this,” is the last thing you hear before he leans in. Your eyes widen in shock, and you freeze in your spot, even though his lips don’t meet yours, evidently separated by Jongho’s thumb, his action had caught you off guard.

You barely have the capacity to process what had just happened, and you feel someone’s warmth tightening against your wrist. 

Jongho lets go of you immediately, but you’re staring right at your professor, who is staring right at Jongho with an unreadable expression, with his fingers curled tightly against your wrist. It feels like an eternity since you saw him. He’s not wearing glasses today and his hair is down instead of his usual slicked-back look, donned with a simple dress shirt and tie which framed his wide shoulders so perfectly.

“Congratulations on your win, Choi Jongho. I believe you should be with your team to celebrate right?”

Jongho only smirks back. “Right. See you babe. Thank you, Prof. See you next week.”

Jongho casts you a glance, the mischief twinkling in his eyes before he turns his heel down the stairs and back to the field. 

What the fuck just happened?

And you find yourself staring up at the male before you, his gaze piercing into yours. 

“Prof—San?” You blink. “I thought you weren’t-“

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, sweetheart. Why would I not want to see the cute relationship my teaching assistants have right?” His voice is laced with venom. 

San doesn’t really elaborate further, leading you to his car, sealing your fate once more when the passenger doors close shut. 

He’s all over you. His body is burning up, maybe just as fast as yours is, and it’s making you feel dizzy. His moves are aggressive, impatient and you swear you feel something else too—desperation. 

“S-San—“ you gasp, in an attempt to take control of something.

“It’s sir to you, sweetheart”, his voice low and gentle, but commanding. Goosebumps scatter across your skin, making you shiver in response when his palms slide up your waist. 

You never saw it coming—from the second his hand grabbed yours, pulling you away from Jongho, his eyes locked into yours for a moment before he turns to Jongho, then to the car ride back, where you noticed the way his knuckles turned pale from gripping the steering wheel. On the walk to his car, you asked him where you were going, and all he did was turn to you and reply, “We’ve got things to talk about, don’t we, sweetheart?”

Now you’re becoming undone once more under San’s touches, trapped beneath him like the first time, now at his place, on his fucking couch instead. 

“It was just foolish of me to just let it be, wasn’t it?” He asks. “Fucking you dumb on my desk wasn’t a good enough indicator, was it?”

“S-sir…!”

“And you think it’s cute getting all cuddly with Jongho? Letting him kiss you all over, touch you all over?” San mutters, his fingers wrapped around your throat, his grip tightening slightly and you’re sure he’s about to leave light imprints. 

But oh, was it so fucking exhilarating—the thought of Choi San riled up like that, a sight you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure if fear or excitement running through your veins right now, but what you do know, is that if he finds out that your panties are completely soaked through, you’re fucking done for. 

His lips collide with yours again, branding himself as some kind of oxygen thief when he’s turning your mind into complete mush. 

“I’m not sure if it’s a little game to you sweetheart, but if it is, I think you need a reminder.”

You breathlessly look up at him, and he looks ethereal even when he’s panting and looking pissed as hell. 

“What reminder, sir?” You dare ask back. 

The side of San’s lips tugs upwards. His hand leaves your throat and trails down your blouse, effortlessly unbuttoning the apparel until he tugs it off you, panting at the sight of your tits hugged by your lace bra. Your bottoms are off again on the floor of his bedroom, alongside any ounce of rationale. Your soaked panties are agonisingly pulled off your legs, and before you know it, his hands spread them open too. It takes all of San’s self-control to not stuff you full. At least, not yet.

“It’s my cock you’re gonna cum all over. Even when you have another guy’s lips on yours, it’s my name you’re gonna fucking scream.”

Oh. Oh god. 

The pieces of what Jongho was trying to do suddenly come together, unfortunately, the realisation doesn’t last long because San has his lips greedily on yours again on top of the way his full-blown erection is pressing onto your pussy. 

“Sir”, you manage out a weak mutter when he finally pulls away, trying to press and grind against his clothed dick for some friction or anything to rid the burn that’s going through your body. But San remains still. 

“Use your words since you love using your mouth so much.” Like kissing Choi Jongho. 

Your mind is a complete puddle. 

“I really…fuck. I really need you to fuck me right now, sir”, you beg, red flushing your cheeks, but it’s not from the shame. There’s a feral glint in San’s eyes that you don’t miss. 

“No”, is all he answers, and you feel your heart drop to your stomach. 

“Not until I’ve fucked your mouth full, sweetheart.” 

All you can do is watch him speechlessly as he hooks his index finger on the knot of his tie and loosens it, unraveling it back to its original form. 

“Hands together”, he commands you, and you do so immediately, basking in the scent of his cologne while he leans into you, his hands tying knots around your wrists with his tie. “Don’t let it loosen, got it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good girl. Now on your knees.” 

You’ve never dropped to your knees so fast.

San forces you to watch him unbutton and lower the fly of his trousers, and you’re just doing your best not to get drool on his expensive carpet. 

When his cock springs out, you’re also forced to watch him fuck his palm at a slow pace, drinking in his groans, slick staining your inner thighs, and the fucking floor next if you don’t do anything. 

His cock is heavy against your cheek when he taps it there, and your tongue slips out of your mouth by instinct, given experimental kitten licks on his slit, before his fingers catch your chin, and he forces you to look up at him. 

“Look at me”, he instructs. 

You do. You do your best not to break the eye contact, trying not to be sidetracked by his big fucking cock, but your eyes can’t help but dart to his appendage. 

“No, keep your eyes on me”, he redirects once more, his fingers fixing your head in place. 

Then he slides his cock into your mouth and pulls out a choked moan from you. 

“That’s it. Good girl”, he grunts when you start bobbing your head, fucking his cock with your mouth. 

His fingers trail to the back of your head, but he’s using all of his strength not to force your head down. 

But as you pick up the momentum, it’s an automatic reaction to push your head down so his cock hits the back of your throat. Your eyes are watering but fuck you feel like you’re in fucking heaven. Your head spins whenever his wet cock is forced down your tight throat, and you break eye contact a few times, which San has to tap your jaw to make you keep eye contact while he fucks your face. 

“I’m cumming, sweetheart. Fuck. Keep that pretty little mouth open for me yeah?” He groans, bucking his hips, letting streaks of warm white paint your throat and mouth, watching the way you’re looking up at him with doe eyes, taking his cum in your mouth like a good girl. His good girl. 

He smudges his thumb against the corner of your lips before his arms carry you up, only to dump you on the couch.

Your back is on the couch again, hands still tied behind your back and legs up with San pressing his body weight on you.

He props your leg on his shoulder, and he stretches you open inch by inch. You gasp when he fills you up, your walls immediately clenching around him. 

“So fuckin tight for me, sweetheart. You take me so well.”

His thrusts are growing more aggressive mixed in with the possession that’s bleeding in and it’s setting your whole body on fire. Your words are caught in your throat when he’s buried into you to the hilt. He groans at the way your pussy is fluttering pathetically against him. 

It feels so fucking good that nothing but stars engulf your vision when his cock stuffs you full to the hilt again. His name leaves your lips like a mantra on top of broken moans and whimpers, and it only makes San fill up the space in your pussy all the more better. 

His shoulders are so wide that he’s towering over you, his fingers forcing you to face him whenever you’re drifting because of the pleasure, his eyes feral when you look so fucked out for him. And when he combines his heavy thrusts with a squeeze around your throat, it makes your mind shut off and your cunt cream all over his dick.

“Good girl, looking all so fucked out for me.”

 His cock is hitting all the perfect spots, and it’s driving you insane with the knot tightening in your stomach at such a fast pace. You think you’re sliding off the couch but San isn’t letting you—especially not when his thrusts are keeping you on the couch. His name continues to leave your lips in broken moans every time he fucks you. 

San snakes his fingers to your scalp and he tugs sharply, enough to force you to look up at him. You’re tearing up again, and it feels so fucking good with the way he’s keeping your hair tugged while he fucks the ever-loving shit out of you.

“My name does sound much better when you’re crying it doesn’t it, sweetheart?”

You choke back a moan when he hits your g-spot once more.

“Y-yes sir.” 

“How are you feeling?”

“Full. So full sir. Want more. Please. Need you to ruin me”, you beg once more, your mind floating in an endless euphoria.

“Oh, I definitely will”, San hums, watching in sheer pleasure as your eyes roll back when his cockhead presses perfectly against your g-spot over and over.

Before you realise it, your orgasm hits you like fucking train, spreading through your body like a fucking wildfire, engulfing every crevice of your body. 

He’s gonna break you, and you’re fucking loving it. 

“San-“, you cry out, not registering the way he’s wiping the tears off your eyes. “So good. You feel so good. Cumming so much-“ 

“I know, sweetheart. It feels so fucking good doesn’t it?” He asks with a smile, satisfied when you nod frantically while he rubs your thighs.

Your thighs are shaking from how good this all feels, cream staining your inner thighs and his cock when he pulls out. 

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart”, San reminds you. 

He turns you over, keeping one hand on your tied hands, while the other pressing your head against the back of the couch. He lines his cock back to your cunt, pushing into your hole once more. You choke on your moans again, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes until he’s fully seated in you once more. 

The sounds are even wetter now, especially when you’re overstimulated, pussy just being so perfectly abused by Choi San. You fucking love the way his hands are around your neck, forcing you against the cushions when he fucks you dumb from the back. 

Your stomach is in knots once more, the feeling building up faster than the previous time, and all you can mutter is that it feels so good. San thinks you’re so fucking adorable when you’re not having banters with him and being this cock drunk for him. 

Then he pulls you off the couch, letting you catch a breath before he sits you on his lap, his cock still buried in your cunt, and starts bouncing you off his cock from below.

He alternates between melting your brain with his pornographic moans right at your ear and planting more love bites down your jaw. 

“Gonna cum again. You feel so fucking good in me. Oh god”, you hiccup through your tears, the sensitivity pushing your limit. 

“Cum as hard as you want, sweetheart. I’ll let you milk me dry, fill you up so fucking good that you’ll be leaking with my cum for the next two days.” 

That was enough to set you off. Your pussy convulses when your second orgasm hits, fireworks bursting in your eyelids, long drawn-out cries while San fills your tight cunt with his warm and thick cum, while his groans fill up in your ears. You feel his fingers massaging your thighs, coaxing you from your high. 

You’re dizzy, and light-headed as your head slumps against his shoulders, too spent to acknowledge the male behind you leaving more marks down your neck. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, sweetheart,” San breaks the momentary silence, well aware that his softening cock is still in you. 

Your hand flies up to his chest to stop him, even though you’re still recovering from seeing stars. 

“We need to talk-“

“After we clean up”, he cuts you off, lifting you off his cock and carrying you bridal style to his bathroom. 

But you’re stubborn. 

“N-no. It wasn’t what you thought it was”, you say, feeling your tears well up in your eyes on top of the weight. 

The prickles are starting to form at the bottom of San’s heart, but he’s more focused on trying to hose you down with warm water. But he’s listening you run your mouth, not that he minded. 

“We didn’t kiss”, you reiterate. 

Now he’s just confused. He stares at you. 

“We just had sex, y/n”, San reminds you, trying not to let the red reach his cheeks. 

“No—I mean Jongho and I. We didn’t kiss”, you clarify.

San doesn’t really know if he should believe your words or his eyes, but now he’s focused on lathering your hair and body. 

“That wasn’t what I saw”, he replies, avoiding eye contact. 

“That’s cause we did this-“ you huff, turning his head to face you, imitating the way Jongho had slid his thumb between your lips and his, demonstrating San the fake kiss. 

San only stares at you wordlessly when you pull back, only more questions than answers. 

“But why would he do that for?”

“He was trying to rile you up.”

“For what?”

“To see if you felt anything for me?”

“By kissing you?”

Oh god. It felt like the more you explained, the more San was getting the wrong ideas. You let your head sit in your hands, unsure if it’s from the embarrassment or the fact that you don’t even know where to start. 

“It wasn’t a kiss, Choi San”, you groaned, your hands leaving your face, suddenly self-conscious that San is staring intently at you. “After we, um, fucked the first time, you acted like nothing happened, and I felt like shit about it, and I told Jongho and then…” you trail off, feeling your cheeks heat up again. It’s probably the hot water, at least that’s what you try to convince yourself with.

“I don’t kiss people I’m not in love with, San”, you sigh in defeat. Your eyes are downcast, but you feel his fingers cup your cheeks, and his lips press onto yours. You swear you could go another round again. 

The silence hangs in the air for a while, only the sounds of the shower filling the emptiness when he pulls back. 

“I didn’t do anything since after that evening because I wanted to properly tell you after the term ended.”

“Tell me what?”

“That I’m in love with you, too.”

You blink. Somehow that shocked you more than the both times he fucked your brains out. 

You don’t answer him because your head is just swarming with so many thoughts, and San lets you do so, satisfied that he’s finally have you quieten down so he can finish washing you up. 

Even when he’s dressed you in his oversized hoodie, San peppers you with kisses, basking in the way you sometimes cover his face with your hands to stop him, which only rouses him to continue to attack you with his lips.

San’s arms are tight around you when the both of you are finally on his bed. You smell like his favourite body soap and he can’t seem to get enough of it—nuzzling against the crook of your neck, muttering sweet nothings. You think this is probably your favourite version of Professor Choi. 

Your fingers twirl around his splayed-out locks, and you speak. 

“Prof Choi”, you tease, and San looks up, and it’s the first time you actually see him pout—it almost makes you combust. 

“I told you to stop calling me that”, he frowns, burying his face, feigning trying to cut off physical contact from you, which only makes you laugh in response. 

“I just wanted to disturb you”, you respond, trying to yank him back into your arms. “I do have a question though.”

His head pops up from his pillows and he stares at you, waiting for you to speak. 

“When did you realise you had feelings for me?”

He pauses, giving himself a couple of minutes to think. 

“The moment I received your teaching assistant application.”

<divider> 

📚 Bonus Epilogue 📚

“Prof Choi!” One of his teaching assistants calls out to him. 

He turns his head and attention to her, pushing up his glasses. 

“Yes?” 

“I need help with this part of the assignment. Could you help me check that I’ve marked it correctly?”

San nods, taking the papers from her. 

As he scans through her work, the teaching assistant’s eyes glance down at the band hugging his ring finger. 

“Prof, you’re married?”

San pauses his writing to glance at the glistening gold on his finger, and a small smile spreads across his cheeks. 

“You know, I used to wear a ring on my ring finger so students would stop asking me if I was married or not.”

She raises her eyebrows, her curiosity piqued. “So you’re not?”

“I am.”

Her eyes brighten, invested in her handsome professor’s love story. 

“Tell me more then”, she asks. 

San scoffs playfully, turning his gaze to her. 

“All I can tell you is that she’s always been my favourite.”

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @ywtf @woojirang @yuyusgirl

@jeon-ify @itza-meee @miss-fallon @hwallazia @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319 @vampiregirl215 @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @liyahbug05-blog @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie

network: @atzhouse @cultofdionysusnet @cromernet

[leeknow-thoughts]

୨୧ SKZ X GREEK GODS MAKNAE LINE M.LIST

୨୧ a collection of my skz x (children of) Greek gods!AU series!! All works have smut so please mdni!!

୨୧ QUARTER NOTES

𝝑𝝔 son of Apollo!Han Jisung x Mortal!Fem!Bandmate!Reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : you'd known Jisung since college, now you were in his studio writing music with him. You lived together since junior year of college. So what happens when Jisung's father pays a visit and tells Jisung what the Fates have said about his destiny? What if his destiny is being with you? You didn't need the Fates to tell you what his destiny was, you had always known you were going to be apart of it.

𝝑𝝔 cw : angst if you squint, fluff, smut, Sub!Han Jisung, Dom!Reader, more smut warnings on actual story!

𝝑𝝔 Coming out : June 28-29!

୨୧ THE THING ABOUT TULIPS

𝝑𝝔 son of Demeter!flower shop owner!Felix x mortal!new hire!Reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : you loved flowers, ever since you were young. You were in college, studying botany, and your internship program was just about to start. No shop had asked you to intern yet, but to your luck, Felix asked you. How can you avoid developing feelings for your hot boss who can also control plants? (You can't.)

𝝑𝝔 cw : Persephone cameo + Demeter cameo, fluff, fluffy smut, he fell first reader fell harder trope, tons of pet names, Switch!Felix, Switch!Reader, more smut warnings on actual story!

𝝑𝝔 Coming out : June 29-30!

୨୧ FULL MOON

𝝑𝝔 son of Nyx!Seungmin x mortal!fem!reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : you were everything to Seungmin, even if you didn't know it, and even if he didn't tell you. He'd watch over you every night until one day (well technically night) you woke up early, seeing him in your room rightfully leads to you questioning the man. What happens when each night you talk to him instead of sleep? And what happens when Seungmin confesses as to why he only watches over you and nobody else?

𝝑𝝔 cw : tsundre!Seungmin, kind of breaking and entering???, fluff, smut, Sub!Seungmin, Dom!Reader, more smut warnings on actual story!

𝝑𝝔 Coming out : July 1-2!

୨୧ THE TORTURED WRITERS DEPARTMENT

𝝑𝝔 son of Erato!Professor!Jeongin x literature major!college student! fem!reader

𝝑𝝔 synopsis : Every girl in school would try to take Professor Yang's literature and poetry classes just so they could stare at the hot professor while he taught, except for you. You actually loved literature, it was your whole soul, your whole being. Jeongin knows it is wrong, falling for his cute student who was 10 years younger than him. Jeongin just can't help but ask you to be his teaching assistant after reading your phenomenal literary works. You humbly accept his offer, and do your best to not fall for him. One day you find out his godly secret, and instead of it driving you away, it intrigues you beyond comparison.

𝝑𝝔 cw : reader has a negative self image, age gap (Jeongin is in his early 30s, reader is 21), smut with feelings, Mean!Condescending!Dom!Jeongin, Sub!Reader, more smut warnings on actual story!

𝝑𝝔 Coming out : July 2-3!

[aethon-recs]

Hi I wanted to know if you know any tomarry fanfics were Tom is the professor. I don't care if it's time travel or anything like that I just want to see some professor Tom because I can't find any.

Also your blog help me so much thank you for that!

Have a good day/night

Oohh, this is a fun one! Thanks for the ask!

I love the Professor Riddle trope. I might be biased, but I think Tom Riddle would have made for the best Defense professor that Harry could have had 😉

See below for some favorite Tomarrymort fics of this trope, arranged by alphabetical order:

*

Professor Riddle Fic Recs

Cam for the Money, Stayed for the Fun by @itsevanffs (E, 7k, complete)

Harry is a camboy. Professor Riddle is secretly his biggest patron.

Everything Green Is Gold by @cindle-writes (E, 24k, WIP)

Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.

Fault Lines by @vestiges-of-light (M, 151k, complete)

After the world believes that Voldemort has died on that Halloween night, Tom Riddle returns to Hogwarts to claim the Defense post at last. Hogwarts will be a sanctuary, while he waits to find out more about Harry Potter and the prophecy that connects them. But when Grindelwald is broken out of prison, perhaps the magical world needs Voldemort to be publicly resurrected after all.

Fidgeting Anxiety Prevention by MistyTheGhost (E, 1k, complete)

Harry feels nothing but dread about his upcoming NEWTS. Luckily, Professor Riddle offers some assistance.

For Auld Lang Syne by @vdoshu (T, 8k, complete)

When he finds himself disarmed and held at wandpoint in the middle of a snowstorm, Tom’s first thought is that he is an embarrassment to Defence professors the world over. His second thought is something along the lines of, “Oh no, not again."

gratuity by @being-luminous (E, 2k, complete)

In the middle of class, Professor Riddle uses a spell to magically manifest his cock into Harry's arse.

hook, line, and sinker by @purplemineralwater (M, 6k, WIP)

Harry asks Professor Riddle for help in killing Voldemort. Riddle is endlessly amused.

Muggle Studies is Economics in Disguise by May_May_0_0 (M, 12k, complete)

Dumbledore acquiesces when Tom Riddle asks for the defense post. Harry stumbles into this AU version of Hogwarts hoping to teach defense. But there is only teaching one spot available: Muggle Studies. Chaos ensues as Muggle Studies becomes everyone’s favorite class. Tom Riddle is enraged, concerned, and… turned on?

Professor by Day, Vigilante by Night by @duplicitywrites (T, 73k, complete)

Harry and Tom have been together since their fifth-year, proving once and for all that Slytherins and Gryffindors can actually get along. Fifteen years later, they are both professors at Hogwarts and more in love than ever. Harry plays Quidditch with the Weasleys on the weekends, and Tom is secretly a vigilante named Voldemort.

On Holiday by @neurowriter14 (E, 2k, complete)

Harry's thirsty over his DADA professor. Professor Riddle knows.

The Orphaned King by @silenceinwinter2019 (E, 134k, complete)

In an AU where Voldemort wins, Harry starts his seventh year. Two things told Harry it would be an interesting semester: first, the Dark Lord would visit Hogwarts; second, they had a new defense professor, who made Harry’s stomach squirm and called himself Marvolo Gaunt.

What Happens in Vegas by @dividawrites (E, 14k, complete)

Turns out, the role of the Slytherin Head of House is not just ruling over pre-teen idiots and deducting points from Gryffindors. Now Tom has to accompany the seventh-year students on their school trip to Las Vegas. It goes even worse than he could have imagined.

*

[a-sunset-outside-my-window]

fic rec friday

The Teacher

by SpaceWall on Ao3

Dumbledore hires Remus Lupin as a teaching assistant for Defence Against the Dark Arts. To everyone’s surprise, he isn’t fired, maimed, murdered, or otherwise removed from the job. Severus Snape does not approve of this development.

--

“Here to pick up your friend?” Aberforth demanded, tapping a glass with his wand and setting it sparkling clean.

“Not my friend,” Severus said, just as Lupin said,

“Haven’t got any friends.”

Hm, yes I am currenly back to being obsessed with the 'older' tropes, so get ready for this amazingly written fix-it taking place around philosophers stone.

favourite tropes included are:

fix-it

enemies to friends

Remus is the DADA Professor

exept not really

adults actually being helpfull? (it's more likely than you think)

Sirius gets out of Azkaban

we care about the kids here

they get taken seriously siriusly

as always, leave lots of love and kudos to the author and have an amazing rest of the week <3

[wouldadepressedpersonmakethis]

Name: Christopher Lawrence ♦ - (Armie Hammer) - from The Man from U.N.C.L.E. and On the Basis of Sex ♦ Hotel Employee ♦ Age: (34) ♦ Relationships: ♦ Description: ♦ Secret: OPEN.

Name: Lawrence ♦ - (Margot Robbie) - from Pan Am ♦ Hotel Employee/Thief ♦ Age: (28) ♦ Relationships: Armie Hammer, Saoirse Ronan (siblings), Jonathan Lawrence, ALICIA VIKANDer (partners) ♦ Description: ♦ Secret: OPEN.

Name: Lawrence ♦ - (Saoirse Ronan) - from Brooklyln ♦ Hotel Employee ♦ Age: (23) ♦ Relationships: ♦ Description: ♦ Secret: TAKEN BY LIZZY.

Name: Jonathan "Ren" Lawrence ♦ - (Austin Butler) - from The Bikeriders ♦ Hotel Employee/Thief ♦ Age: (28) ♦ Relationships: Armie Hammer, Margot Robbie, Saoirse Ronan (cousins), Alicia Vikadir (partner), Grace Young (interest) ♦ Description: ♦ Secret: Ren only took this position for the summer to gain access to the hotel as part of the heist planned by ALICIA VIKANDIR & co. OPEN.

Name: Rebecca Montfort ♦ - (Ana de Armas) - from Marylin ♦ Guest ♦ Age: (27) ♦ Relationships: Matthew Goode (husband), Matt Smith (ex-boyfriend) ♦ Description: Hollywood's favorite darling, Rebecca Montfort, is back at it again. Following her recent Oscar win for her performance in War and Peace, Rebecca is set to start shooting her newest film, The Day After while she is a guest at the Regency Grand Hotel. ♦ Secret: Her marriage to longtime producer, MATTHEW GOODE, is not the fairytale that they'd managed to sell to the press. TAKEN BY KATE AA.

Name: Thomas "Tommy" Norton ♦ - (Timothee Chalamet) - from Call Me By Your Name ♦ Employee ♦ Age: (23) ♦ Relationships: ♦ Description: Dad/uncle/grandfather??? owns the hotel?? ♦ Secret: OPEN.

Name: Amelia Porter ♦ - (Felicity Jones) - from On The Basis of Sex ♦ Guest ♦ Age: (29) ♦ Relationships: Florence Winters, ???? (cousins) ♦ Description: Amelia fits the "absent-minded professor" trope a bit too well, at times. An avid reader, writer, philosopher, and historian, Amelia is in the middle of obtaining her PhD so that she might one day teach history at her alma mater, Oxford University. Amelia is one of the most intelligent young ladies you'd ever happen to meet, but her social skills and street smarts definitely need some improvement. Years of spending hours upon end in the library has not prepared her for the world outside of it. Amelia is much more at home surrounded by classic literate and ancient history than she is at a party. It was only by chance that her academic schedule aloud her to take a break just long enough to go to the coast with her cousins for a few weeks where both Florence and ????? hope she will put down a book for once and enjoy life for once. While Amelia is looking forward to spending time with her cousins, she knows she will happy when she's back at school where she belongs. ♦ Secret: TAKEN BY KATE AA.

Name: Florence Winters ♦ - (Juno Temple) - from Wonder Wheel ♦ Guest ♦ Age: (27) ♦ Relationships: ???? (cousins) ♦ Description: Good-humored, spirited, and, at times, a bit unorthodox, Florence Winters is the creative assistant costume designer for The Day After. ♦ Secret: OPEN.

Name: Grace Young ♦ - (Elizabeth Olsen) - from Kill Your Darlings ♦ Guest ♦ Age: (26) ♦ Relationships: Florence Winters, ???? (cousins) ♦ Description: ♦ Secret: TAKEN BY LIZZY.

[eretzyisrael]

by Dion J. Pierre

A professor at Cornell University who received major backlash for saying Hamas’ massacre of Israeli civilians on Oct. 7 “exhilarated” him has taken a leave of absence for the remainder of the semester, according to a new report.

Professor Russell Rickford called the Hamas terror group’s invasion of Israel from neighboring Gaza “exhilarating” and “energizing” at a pro-Palestinian rally last Sunday. He later defended his comments by arguing “the fundamentalism of Hamas mirrors that of Israeli leadership.”

Rickford later apologized for his statements, insisting that he “intended to stress grassroots African American, Jewish, and Palestinian traditions of resistance to oppression.” He apologized to “my family, my students, my colleagues, and many others,” but not to the Jewish community or Israelis — who were the chief targets of Hamas’ terror onslaught.

According to the Cornell Review, a campus newspaper, students taking Rickford’s course on post-Civil War African-American history received on Friday a note from his substitute saying, “Professor Rickford will be taking a leave of absence and I will assume teaching responsibilities for the remainder of the semester.”

The university confirmed to the student newspaper that Rickford “has requested and received approval to take a leave of absence from the university.”

Rickford’s comments, which went viral and became national news, were widely condemned across Cornell’s campus. Last week, Cornell University President Martha Pollack and Board of Trustees chair Kraig Kayser said in a joint statement that his remarks were “reprehensible,” showing “no regard whatsoever for humanity.”

The statement continued: “Any members of our community who have made such statements do not speak for Cornell; in fact, they speak in direct opposition to all we stand for at Cornell.”

Nearly 12,000 people as of this writing have signed a petition calling for Rickford to be fired from the university, whose student population is estimated to be between 20 and 25 percent Jewish.

For nearly twenty years, Rickford’s scholarship has largely focused on Black Nationalist movements, some of which have promoted antisemitic tropes. In the early 2000s, Rickford joined the “Malcolm X Project,” assisting author Manning Marable, who published his own comprehensive work on the controversial figure, in arranging interviews with Malcolm’s acquaintances. Rickford also published a biography of Betty Shabbaz, the late wife of Malcolm X before his assassination in 1965.

Malcolm’s autobiography mentions the Jewish people dozens of times, often pejoratively. “The Jew is hypersensitive” and “I worked downtown for a Jew” are among the ways in which he referred to the Jewish community. “I gave the Jew credit for being among all other whites the most active, and the most vocal financier, ‘leader’ and ‘liberal’ in the Negro civil rights movement,” he wrote. “But … I knew that the Jew played these roles for a very careful strategic reason.” Malcolm also referred to “the Jew” as “Hymie” and “these devils.”

[riewritten]

i think i finally encountered a real life erwin

there's this professor at my university who's admired by literally everyone (especially in the acad field) & his charisma reaches my twitter circle (i even came across a fan acc from his former student 😭)

we only talked through emails back when i assisted in compiling research projects of their insti (and even wrote this to destress). let me say that despite the few moments i've seen and interacted with him i can say he really IS handsome, around early 30s i think—and a young smartass like him is quite normal in my circle so i ignored the hype.

but then yesterday when i went to my current professor's book launch and heard this handsome being speak, i had a bombastic side eye. for a man that young, he speaks like an old fart. LIKE u know the way seniors talk as if they're the oldest one on the floor? and the way he owns the floor?? and the way other speakers literally speak so highly of him??? AND he has books published as early as 2005. i see his name in my decades-long readings but i assumed it was his relative's work because someone THAT young cant be writing that good.

he is a literal TROPE. And for long i've been writing his type it never came to me that he could be REAL. OH MY GOD.

so after my nap i got curious of how old this man really is because i want to see if i could fantasize. i'll never get to do so once he becomes my professor after all (which is very likely bc he teaches one of my majors) i'll just end up dropping his subj 😔 AND MAGNSMSWJS 8 WHEN I SAW IT I CANTUEJW I II.....MMNMDN

he is as old as my father. HE IS AS OLD AS MY FATHER. HE IS AS OLD AS MY FATHEDJEJRJQDN A HTHW

edit because i need to move on from this...

[kpop-stories-21]

New Year's Spell | Part 1

Group: TXT

Pairing: Soobin x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Rating: 18-21+

Genres, Trope & AUs: Non-Idol AU, College AU, Fantasy AU, Romance, Humor, Slight Angst, Fake Dating, Acquaintances to Lovers, College of Magic

Content & Trigger Warnings: Elven Mage Professor!Reader, Elemental Fighter Assistant!Soobin, magic, development of feelings, magic, injuries, blood

Summary: A glib statement spoken without thought comes around to bite you in the ass, leaving you partner-less with the New Year's Gala fast approaching. In the midst of your panic, help arrives in a form you were not expecting: your tall and wildly attractive teaching assistant.

General tags: @kpop---scenarios @skittlez-area512 @mybiasisexo @biaswreckingfics @stardragongalaxy @anyamaris @liliesofdreamsskz @pyeonghongrie-main @naturalogre @bxffietheblxxdy TXT tags: @spicyseonghwas @you-make-skz-stay

If you want to be added to my taglist, click here

Network pings: @cultofdionysusnet | @kdiarynet | @sandsofire

MDNI banner, divider, and support banner courtesy of @cafekitsune

A/N: this is part one of my entry in @cultofdionysusnet 's Secret Santa Fic Exchange and was written for @strawberryya . Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Nea! I really hope you like this fic, I did my best to incorporate as many of the things you liked as fit my vision. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Main Masterlist | Part 2

Stepping into your office in the Aurora College of Greater Magicks, an annoyed sigh left your lips as you found one of your colleagues waiting for you. You recognized him as a professor of Practical Magick and the man who'd been hitting on you for the last month or more.

“Good morning Richard.” You said, voice frostily civil.

Richard beamed like you’d just made his day. “Good morning Y/N. I trust you’ve thought over my proposal from Friday?”

You gulped. Shit, I forgot about that. Panicked, you rushed out a response before your brain could fully think it through.

“I have, and I must respectfully decline as I am now in a relationship.”

Richard scoffed. “You really expect me to believe you got a boyfriend within the last three days?”

You smirked patronisingly. “I don’t expect you to believe anything. I am simply telling you what happened. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a class to get to.”

Grabbing your wand and your bag of materials, you brushed past Richard and headed to the duelling room you taught in. You were unsurprised to see your teaching assistant already there, and greeted him with a warm smile.

Soobin was a tall Elemental in his early twenties, with devastating good looks that had all the ladies swooning over him. Despite this, as far as you knew he’d remained single ever since taking the position as your assistant two-and-a-half years ago. You often wondered why, but didn’t feel like you knew him well enough to ask such a personal question.

Thought after thought popped into your head and you paused in the midst of setting up for the day’s lesson, pondering and weighing the risks of each. The lack of movement caught Soobin’s attention, and he loped towards you with curiosity in his rainbow eyes. His hair and robes were blue, signifying that water was his strongest element connection for today.

“Everything okay, Y/N?” He asked softly, making sure the few early students couldn’t overhear what was said.

You hesitated briefly, wondering if you could confide in him and tell him what was on your mind. Ultimately you decided it would be best to wait until classes were over so the conversation could take place in the privacy of your office.

“I’m okay for now. Can I talk to you after the last class?”

Soobin nodded. “Sure thing.”

Relieved, you set the problem aside in your mind and focused on the day’s classes. Battle magick required one’s full attention if it was to be of any help, so you couldn’t afford to let anything distract you, no matter how important it might seem.

Once the last student had left the classroom for the day, you gathered your supplies and turned to look around for Soobin. You found him leaning against the back wall, watching you expectantly. Walking over to join him, you took a deep breath and began to speak.

You explained the situation with Richard, how he was constantly trying to hook up with you despite your repeated rejections; and how on Friday he asked to be your date for the College’s New Year’s Gala. “I asked to have the weekend to think about it, but when I found him in my office this morning I panicked. I told him I’d gotten a boyfriend over the weekend and therefore couldn’t accept his offer.”

“So now you need to actually find a boyfriend in order to avoid angering him?”

You nodded miserably. “Yet again I’ve gone and stuck my foot in my mouth.”

“Perhaps not.” Soobin murmured, thoughtful. “Maybe I could help you out.”

You looked up in surprise, not having expected such a response from him. “Really? How so?”

He grinned crookedly. “I could pretend to be your boyfriend.”

It wasn’t the worst idea, but still you hesitated a little. You didn’t know if the school had a policy against professors and assistants dating even though most assistants, Soobin included, were students who had already graduated. You supposed it would be okay, and you really didn’t have any other options. If anything you could ask a fellow professor before leaving or when you arrived the next day.

“Well, I suppose that’d be alright.” You finally responded, examining his face for any signs of regret or something that might suggest he was merely joking. Yet all you could see was complete and total sincerity, which settled several of the butterflies flitting about your stomach. “If you’re sure about it.”

“I’m very sure.” He declared.

You smiled softly. “All right then, let’s do it.”

You couldn’t wait to see Richard’s face.

The next couple of weeks flew by, Christmas coming and going with the usual fanfare. Soobin made himself quite known as your boyfriend, and the two of you soon became the talk of the College. You often thought back with a grin to the look on Richard’s face when Soobin walked you into your office and gave you a deep kiss, then winked at the astonished man and walked out. The two of you had quite a few laughs over the encounter after classes that day.

But then, two-and-a-half weeks before the New Year’s Gala, everything began to change. Soobin was everything you could’ve wanted in a partner, and one day you found yourself tumbling down the slippery slope of actually falling for the tall man. You were conflicted about whether you should tell him or not, afraid of getting your heart broken if it turned out that Soobin didn’t return your feelings. So you kept quiet, thinking you could at least wait until after the Gala to have the dreaded conversation. However, Fate seemed to have other ideas.

With just over a week left until the Gala, no one was expecting the interruption that came one bright and sunny morning during your second class.

You were in the midst of demonstrating a particularly complex manoeuvre when the wall behind you suddenly exploded inwards, sending you flying through the air to collide violently with the back wall of the room. You hit the floor in a daze, teetering on the brink of passing out as debris crumbled down on top of you.

But then you remembered your students, and the realisation was like having cold water poured over your head. Crawling forward, you blinked rapidly to try and clear your blurred vision while running your hands across the floor in an attempt to locate your wand. After getting several glass shards buried in your palms for your troubles, you finally felt your fingers brush over the large amethyst crystal embedded in the handle of your wand. Gripping it tightly, you uttered a short spell and felt all the debris fly off of you.

Lurching to your feet, you went around repeating the same spell until the debris had been moved and all your students found. Only one other person was missing, and you felt a chill rake down your spine when you realised who it was: Soobin. With a franticness that was bordering on hysteria, you pushed your magick to its very limits, moving chunks of debris no matter how large or small. You felt blood begin to drip from your nose, the first sign of the toll the overexertion was taking on your body. With the last drop of magick in your body, you finally uncovered a limp body covered in bloodstained black and blue robes.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away as you crumpled to the rubble-laden ground, heart frozen in your chest as you feared the worst. “S-Soobin?” You murmured, voice hoarse and scratchy from the thick coat of dust in your lungs. There was no response, only the faint sounds of your students rushing forward as an ebony curtain swathed your vision in endless darkness and you surrendered to the silent embrace of unconsciousness.

[beardedmrbean]

A left-wing journalism professor who teaches at a top Chicago-area university has for months justified Hamas terrorists' war on Israel and even joined anti-Israel student agitators on campus, Fox News Digital learned after reviewing his social media and blog posts.

Steven Thrasher is an associate professor of journalism at Northwestern’s Medill School of Journalism and has been "regularly published in the New York Times, BuzzFeed News, Esquire, the Nation, the Atlantic, the Guardian, and the Daily Beast," according to his school biography.

Thrasher's activism could be raised on Thursday when Northwestern's president, as well as leaders from UCLA and Rutgers, appears before the House Committee on Education and the Workforce for a hearing titled "Calling for Accountability: Stopping Antisemitic College Chaos."

"Staff like Professor Steven Thrasher continue to peddle hateful antisemitic canards," Florida Republican Rep. Carlos Gimenez told Fox News Digital. "This professor has employed hateful rhetoric, invoked antisemitic tropes, and fostered a hostile environment that endangers Jewish students on campus."

Thrasher's bio states that he is "the inaugural Daniel H. Renberg Chair of social justice in reporting (with an emphasis on issues relevant to the LGBTQ community) and an assistant professor of journalism." His areas of expertise include methods of how to study the intersection of "racism, homophobia, policing, medicine, incarceration, culture, and health." 

A review of Thrasher’s social media accounts found that stretching back to October of last year, when Hamas launched an attack against Israel, Thrasher espoused anti-Israel rhetoric appearing to defend Hamas. 

"White supremacy and settler colonialism can NOT kill, maim and steal for decades (or even centuries) via genocidal violence and then expect patience and peace — ESPECIALLY when peaceful protest is met with economic, spiritual and literal death," he posted on X on Oct. 9 of last year. Fox News Digital reviewed the posts earlier this week, before Thrasher protected his X account. 

"For those asking 'But why don’t Palestinians protest peacefully; may I remind you that for me—who is not even Palestinian!!!—merely calling for *peaceful boycott* cost me the German translation of my book, made my PhD advisor shun me forever & almost cost me my entire career," he wrote in another post that same day. 

Later that month, Thrasher compared Israel to the Nazis, claiming the country was carrying out "a genocide of the disabled" in Gaza. 

"​​This is a genocide of the disabled people, too, who will suffocate on smoke. Who ARE suffocating to death right now. You know who else suffocated the disabled? The Nazis," he posted on X on Oct. 29. 

Thrasher is also apparently no fan of President Biden, according to his posts, claiming that "Biden won’t stop" Israel’s retaliations against Gaza, and that "the US is committing genocide."

In a November blog post titled, "Tearing down the Wall," Thrasher compared Gaza to a Nazi concentration camp, arguing, "we can feel compassion towards a desperate people stuck inside a Nazi concentration camp." He also argued that if Jews were able to break free from concentration camps, they would have killed "anyone they found partying," thus seemingly justifying Hamas' attack on the Nova Music Festival on Oct. 7, when hundreds of people were killed and dozens of others taken hostage.

"If the Jews being shot and shoveled into ovens could just break through that wall, of course, they would kill anyone they found partying right on the other side of it! And, of course, they would take women and children hostage and drag them back into their hell inside if doing so would give them leverage to free their fellow Jews from torture and death!" he wrote. 

Last month, Thrasher also spoke before protesters at an anti-Israel encampment, encouraging agitators to continue their protests, according to The Daily Northwestern. 

"To the Medill students and journalists within earshot, I say to you: Our work is not about objectivity," he said. "Our work is about you putting your brilliant minds to work and opening your compassionate hearts."

Northwestern, similar to colleges across the nation, has been the site of anti-Israel protests. University President Michael Schill will testify before the House Committee on Education and the Workforce over Northwestern’s "shocking concessions to the unlawful antisemitic encampments." Schill’s hearing on Thursday is anticipated to also include questions about Thrasher.

"Whether it’s Claudine Gay at Harvard or Liz Magill at UPenn, college presidents at elite universities have failed to address the dangerous and violent proliferation of antisemitism on campus," Gimenez told Fox News Digital. 

"As a member of Congress, I look forward to getting direct answers about President Schill’s inaction this Thursday. His failure to act emboldens hateful behavior and compromises student safety," he continued.

Northwestern was the first university in the nation to publicly announce that it struck a deal with protesters who established an encampment on campus demanding the school cut financial ties with Israel. The concessions included agreeing to let students review school investments; funding two visiting Palestinian faculty members for two years on campus; full scholarships for five Palestinian undergraduate students; and the immediate construction of a community housing building for Muslim, Middle Eastern and North African students. 

Protesters in exchange largely dismantled the tent encampment. 

The Jewish community in the Chicago area slammed Schill and Northwestern for the agreement, with the​​ Jewish United Fund writing in a letter that Schill embraced "those who flagrantly disrupted Northwestern academics and flouted those policies."

"The overwhelming majority of your Jewish students, faculty, staff, and alumni feel betrayed. They trusted an institution you lead and considered it home. You have violated that trust," the letter said, according to Jewish Insider. "You certainly heard and acted generously towards those with loud, at times hateful voices. The lack of any reassuring message to our community has also been heard loud and clear."

Student agitators infiltrated college campuses nationwide last month into May, including radicals on Columbia University’s campus taking over the campus’ Hamilton Hall building, while schools such as UCLA, Harvard and Yale worked to clear student encampments, which led to hundreds of arrests nationwide. 

The protests follow terrorist organization Hamas launching a war in Israel on Oct. 7, which initially fanned the flames of antisemitism on campuses in the form of protests, menacing graffiti and students reporting that they felt as if it was "open season for Jews on our campuses."

The protests heightened this spring to the point where Jewish students were warned to leave campus for their own safety, and schools such as USC, Emory and Columbia canceled their main graduation ceremonies. 

Gimenez continued in his comments to Fox Digital that "antisemitism has NO PLACE ANYWHERE  — especially not on college campuses receiving federal funding."

"It’s why I’m working to ensure colleges like Northwestern, that fail to protect students from hateful pro-Hamas activities, have their federal funding eligibility immediately reviewed," he said. 

"I stand resolutely with our Jewish-American community and students combating antisemitism on campuses nationwide. I am committed to fighting antisemitism and reinforcing America’s unbreakable bond with our strongest ally: the democratic, Jewish State of Israel."

Neither Northwestern nor Thrasher immediately responded to Fox News Digital’s requests for comment. 

[andersonpress]

Y’all are going to HELL

Soooooo shit has gotten worse. 

The last time I even had the energy to talk about school was damn near a year ago - and of course ain’t nobody listen. Since last year I’ve had a handful of professors (non tenured and tenure) leave their departments. I’ve seen administrators lose their jobs for budget cuts. Graduate students dropping out like flies because they can pay less money to be depressed and stagnant somewhere else. Undergraduates are in a state of shock at the same institution that spent so much time getting to know them, recruiting them, and of course LYING. Guess what babies: they don’t give a fuck about ya. 

I went from yelling at my yt classmates about their biases to hearing my department chair (yes, she is) say I “slipped through the cracks.” When my every action isn’t being watched in course work I’m completely forgotten about. It’s wild to me at how I can go from the spotlight to the streets in such a quick turnaround time. Less than three years in and the resources are depleting not growing. Take this school year for example. I literally got my resources to teach (if that’s what you want to call this packet of bullshit) two days before class starts. Even in grad school shit is so janky - and predictable.To this day, some of the best advice about grad school that I have been given: “Say something one time per class, nod, and seem interested.” The perfect formula. Add in the ‘angry Black girl’ trope to really hammer it home. Don’t attend any community meetings! Refuse to go to award ceremonies! Stay stone faced while they all smile. (I’ve managed to skate past most requirements by looking mean and uninterested in meetings.) It’s a classic case of giving the people what they want. A law I live by in my sex work. It’s all an illusion anyway. Baby give em’ exactly what they want! 

But that’s just me. 

While working my side gig, several adjuncts and professors came in and started to complain about the ways that their respective institutions are choosing to handle COVID - 19 and the student population. There were 6 of us in conversation; two adjuncts, one director, one instructor, and two students. The director proceeds to explain how one of her students lost 100lbs over the summer due to COVID - 19 and is now immunocompromised. And yeah - the student is on the football team. One of the adjuncts complained of finally being invited to a faculty meeting for the first time in two years just to be told to not accommodate their students. The other said that there was no system of accountability at their institution. Never was. No one was actually checking their syllabus, or checking in with students...we all have just been doing...whatever we want. The students in the back were elated because their public health course had been cancelled due to one of the students catching COVID over the weekend. 

Y’all are going to hell. 

My students wonder if this place they were scrambling to get into; this place that told them they would be safe in their care; would really put their entire population in danger just so they don’t have to give their money back? (Now the learning can really start!) Does a bear shit in the woods? The students have to take control of their own experiences. The more we start to refuse to take bullshit the sooner we start getting what we deserve. That starts with putting ourselves first. It’s a recurring theme in my course - something I tell my students everyday. We gon learn - but not that shit. We ain’t got time for the bullshit, period. Dare to not stress about class. Take time to explore your interests. Focus on getting ya bread up to all my students who are fleeing unsafe environments. My sex working, my houseless, my queer students!!! It’s time to do something radical: rest. 

Y’all are going to hell. But like not the one I’ll be at with Montero. The one where all the professors who assign 7+ page papers go; those who don’t pay or acknowledge their student assistants; the weird ones who steal their student’s ideas (while simultaneously belittling said ideas); those ones who think they are holier than thou (and thus their work is a necessary good for the entire world); and the professors who are all around shitty teachers and shitty people. The administrators who lie about payment dates, “forget” to push your paperwork forward, or refuse to make accommodations for you unless you make noise. All the predatorial organizations stealing money, labor, and resources from students. ALLLLLLLOFDEMGONBETHERE. 

I ain’t going witchall. I ain’t dying for y’all. We are not in cahoots or solidarity. #KeepIt If my conversations with all the different instructors taught me anything it’s that all these institutions are the same. Their bottom line doesn’t include student satisfaction, it's just money. COVID was the world’s evil ex - abusive as hell, inconvenient when you really need them, and acts like a dick in social settings. After being with an ass like that for so long you eventually raise your standard. Demand more. Students, employees, and community members alike are holding their overlords accountable. It’s like $16 an hour to work at the Taco Beezy up the street from me right now! Politicians are out here getting outed and SUED! Teachers are marching for higher wages! Students are fighting for equal rights in school - baby I am living! Thankfully (and historically) universities have been the site of student protest for generations. COVID - 19 severely minimizes the in-person college experience to null and void. Students are claiming they aren’t getting what they paid for anymore. I mean you pay for the in - person experience; the STIs, alcohol dependency, and mental breaks included! But few students in recent years can say they had the “typical” college experience. In an effort to give the students “what they want” they are prematurely allowing population numbers to rise and increasing the chance of spreading COVID; subsequently shutting down the university...again. Universities can’t handle having to accommodate students in - person and asynchronously or so they say. Put that tuition to use babe! Spend the coin! Or don’t. The enrollment numbers continue to dwindle. So are the faculty and staff. The morale is low in the academy. And all I can do is eat my chips and laugh. 

In the meantime you can find me woosahing until I get to my graduation date! I have so many goals in mind: I’m excited about teaching (sharing knowledge has always been fun and interesting to me); making curriculum; and writing (love that I do that everyday). So yeah like fuck them. DO you. I dare anybody to do some shit about it. 

Soooooo shit has gotten worse. 

The last time I even had the energy to talk about school was damn near a year ago - and of course ain’t nobody listen. Since last year I’ve had a handful of professors (non tenured and tenure) leave their departments. I’ve seen administrators lose their jobs for budget cuts. Graduate students dropping out like flies because they can pay less money to be depressed and stagnant somewhere else. Undergraduates are in a state of shock at the same institution that spent so much time getting to know them, recruiting them, and of course LYING. Guess what babies: they don’t give a fuck about ya. 

I went from yelling at my yt classmates about their biases to hearing my department chair (yes, she is) say I “slipped through the cracks.” When my every action isn’t being watched in course work I’m completely forgotten about. It’s wild to me at how I can go from the spotlight to the streets in such a quick turnaround time. Less than three years in and the resources are depleting not growing. Take this school year for example. I literally got my resources to teach (if that’s what you want to call this packet of bullshit) two days before class starts. Even in grad school shit is so janky - and predictable.To this day, some of the best advice about grad school that I have been given: “Say something one time per class, nod, and seem interested.” The perfect formula. Add in the ‘angry Black girl’ trope to really hammer it home. Don’t attend any community meetings! Refuse to go to award ceremonies! Stay stone faced while they all smile. (I’ve managed to skate past most requirements by looking mean and uninterested in meetings.) It’s a classic case of giving the people what they want. A law I live by in my sex work. It’s all an illusion anyway. Baby give em’ exactly what they want! 

But that’s just me. 

While working my side gig, several adjuncts and professors came in and started to complain about the ways that their respective institutions are choosing to handle COVID - 19 and the student population. There were 6 of us in conversation; two adjuncts, one director, one instructor, and two students. The director proceeds to explain how one of her students lost 100lbs over the summer due to COVID - 19 and is now immunocompromised. And yeah - the student is on the football team. One of the adjuncts complained of finally being invited to a faculty meeting for the first time in two years just to be told to not accommodate their students. The other said that there was no system of accountability at their institution. Never was. No one was actually checking their syllabus, or checking in with students...we all have just been doing...whatever we want. The students in the back were elated because their public health course had been cancelled due to one of the students catching COVID over the weekend. 

Y’all are going to hell. 

My students wonder if this place they were scrambling to get into; this place that told them they would be safe in their care; would really put their entire population in danger just so they don’t have to give their money back? (Now the learning can really start!) Does a bear shit in the woods? The students have to take control of their own experiences. The more we start to refuse to take bullshit the sooner we start getting what we deserve. That starts with putting ourselves first. It’s a recurring theme in my course - something I tell my students everyday. We gon learn - but not that shit. We ain’t got time for the bullshit, period. Dare to not stress about class. Take time to explore your interests. Focus on getting ya bread up to all my students who are fleeing unsafe environments. My sex working, my houseless, my queer students!!! It’s time to do something radical: rest. 

Y’all are going to hell. But like not the one I’ll be at with Montero. The one where all the professors who assign 7+ page papers go; those who don’t pay or acknowledge their student assistants; the weird ones who steal their student’s ideas (while simultaneously belittling said ideas); those ones who think they are holier than thou (and thus their work is a necessary good for the entire world); and the professors who are all around shitty teachers and shitty people. The administrators who lie about payment dates, “forget” to push your paperwork forward, or refuse to make accommodations for you unless you make noise. All the predatorial organizations stealing money, labor, and resources from students. ALLLLLLLOFDEMGONBETHERE. 

I ain’t going witchall. I ain’t dying for y’all. We are not in cahoots or solidarity. #KeepIt If my conversations with all the different instructors taught me anything it’s that all these institutions are the same. Their bottom line doesn’t include student satisfaction, it's just money. COVID was the world’s evil ex - abusive as hell, inconvenient when you really need them, and acts like a dick in social settings. After being with an ass like that for so long you eventually raise your standard. Demand more. Students, employees, and community members alike are holding their overlords accountable. It’s like $16 an hour to work at the Taco Beezy up the street from me right now! Politicians are out here getting outed and SUED! Teachers are marching for higher wages! Students are fighting for equal rights in school - baby I am living! Thankfully (and historically) universities have been the site of student protest for generations. COVID - 19 severely minimizes the in-person college experience to null and void. Students are claiming they aren’t getting what they paid for anymore. I mean you pay for the in - person experience; the STIs, alcohol dependency, and mental breaks included! But few students in recent years can say they had the “typical” college experience. In an effort to give the students “what they want” they are prematurely allowing population numbers to rise and increasing the chance of spreading COVID; subsequently shutting down the university...again. Universities can’t handle having to accommodate students in - person and asynchronously or so they say. Put that tuition to use babe! Spend the coin! Or don’t. The enrollment numbers continue to dwindle. So are the faculty and staff. The morale is low in the academy. And all I can do is eat my chips and laugh. 

In the meantime you can find me woosahing until I get to my graduation date! I have so many goals in mind: I’m excited about teaching (sharing knowledge has always been fun and interesting to me); making curriculum; and writing (love that I do that everyday). So yeah like fuck them. DO you. I dare anybody to do some shit about it. 

[jimblejamblewritings]

it just sort of... happened | part 6.

[Posted 2022.07.28]

Summary: After Hogwarts is turned upside down after Harry Potter started attending, a new normal DADA professor seems like a Godsend.  

Warnings for the Series: age gap age gap age gap (however reader is of age because anything under deserves jail time no exceptions). student-teacher relationship. slow burn because obviously. smut at some point. honestly nothing else. forbidden love trope BUT ONCE AGAIN of age reader

Pairing: remus lupin x reader eventually, professor!remus x student!reader

Word Count: 2.0k

Previous Part | (Series Masterlist)

You and Cedric sat in his bedroom, eating popcorn and talking. You were hanging off the bed while he was laying on the floor. The pros and cons list that you were supposed to make over the break of boys for you to focus your attention on was easily abandoned for a list solely dedicated to Lupin. Cedric wanted to figure out the extent of it all. You wanted to simply forget it. It was actually embarrassing that you kissed him. Your professor.

Cedric clicked his tongue as he set down the quill. “Am I supposed to be talking you out of this or into this? Because our cons list is that he’s thirty-four and your professor… You don’t even want to know how many more pros there are.”

“Out. You’re definitely supposed to try to convince me out of crushing on him. Okay, another con. He’s old.”

“I think that technically goes under the ‘he’s thirty-four’ point.”

“Write it down again separately.”

“Y/N, how about you admit that you have almost no cons and we can work from there.”

“Fine.”

“Say it.”

“If Remus Lupin were some seventh year boy I would snog his lips off with absolutely no regrets.”

Cedric sat up from laying on his stomach. “See, now we can go from there. All the problems with dating Remus Lupin. Oh, if you’re caught he’d totally be fired.”

You nodded. “And they’d probably try to have me say that he coerced me or I was underage when he started trying to make a move on me.”

“Hmm that last part can be proven wrong but they’ll definitely make you say that he forced you.”

You guys continued the conversation until you had points that you felt could convince you of not looking in Remus’ direction. If you guys did go out, he would lose his job. Your parents might have the same age gap but they most likely wouldn’t approve of you having a gap that large. Remus had more experience and time being an adult so would you even notice if he took advantage of you somehow? He might give you grades you don’t deserve because you’re romantically linked. You’d have to stay a secret until you graduated. He was old. You were still his student, not just his teaching assistant.

It seemed like a good list. It wasn’t much and certainly didn’t add up to your pros list but it was good enough. You couldn’t be with Remus. But something sat in your throat. The thought of being with Remus didn’t gross you out, not like you thought it would. You were still weirded out but more at yourself for liking him than the thought of being with him. Because who crushes on their professor? But actually being with him, if you ignored the gap and him being a professor, didn’t freak you out as much as you thought.

Would there even be a difference in your behavior? You already felt that you and Remus built a nice relationship. He wasn’t just a mentor but a friend. He listened to you and you learned a lot from him. Instead of just giving you easy work, he treated you like a true work colleague. The two of you even had drinks together for heaven’s sake. Unfortunately, the thought of being with him wasn’t weird because honestly he was your friend before he was anything else. And you hated yourself for even thinking of that.

It didn’t get better after a few days. You couldn’t take it anymore and marched yourself to Remus’ house. He blinked multiple times when he opened the door. The moment your eyes met his, you regretted coming. Were you really about to do this? Were you actually going to cross that line?

“Can I come in?” you asked while cursing at yourself mentally for not turning around.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, sure.” Remus moved aside so you could enter.

“You haven’t changed the place,” you commented as you sat on the couch with mismatched cushions.

Remus called over some tea and added more wood to the fire in the fireplace. Reluctantly, he let his eyes roam over your figure. He stopped at your face and simply looked at you. There was nothing wrong with looking. You were pleasant to see. He had been trying to get the kiss out of his head since you left him that night of the Yule Ball. Your touch was so gentle as you traced his scars. And he loved the feel of your lips, craving more of it even though he kept telling himself that he shouldn’t.

Your movement to get something from your bag broke his gaze on you. You pulled out the list that you and Cedric had been working on, handing it to Remus and telling him what it was. His eyes squinted in amusement at the list. He could feel his chest puffing up a little at seeing the pros side was larger than the cons and most of the cons were about his age. You set your teacup down on the coffee table.

“Moony, I know we talked but I’ve been thinking and I can’t get you out of my head no matter how much I try… Can we make a list together?”

Remus looked up from the paper in surprise. “A list?”

You pulled out some parchment and a pen from your bag. “Yeah, like the one I made for you but we do it together about us. I think maybe it’ll just help to see the cons, so we can get over each other.”

Remus nodded. Both of you refused to acknowledge the second option. What if it didn’t help? What if, like the list about him, the pros were more than the cons? Together you came up with anything that crossed your mind. It was like an interview or speed date or twenty questions. You two already knew a lot about each other but not on a deep intimate level.

“And I’m too young for kids right now,” you said, starting to add it to the cons. “I don’t want them till later but then you would be in your early forties and most forty year olds don’t want baby babies.”            

“Well, I’m not really sure how I feel about kids with my condition and all.”

“Then still a con because I want them.”

“Alright. Hmm, my salary isn’t very good. I can’t exactly provide much, I can’t even fix this place properly.”

You marked it down. “Okay, that’s the list.”

Both of you stared at it, reading both sides over and over again. It was obvious that the definitive conclusion you were hoping to get wasn’t there. Remus took a chance and moved from his armchair to sit next to you. He read the list again. Internally, he already knew what decision he made. But he wasn’t going to say anything, knowing he had the influence in the situation. Whatever decision you made was what he would go with. Remus watched as you tentatively put a hand on his knee before slowly sliding it upwards to rest more on his thigh.

“Moon— Remus, I don’t want to just let you go. I want to try. There’s no harm in trying, right?”

The corners of his mouth lifted. He had hoped that you would give him a chance. It was ridiculous to want but he couldn’t stop thinking of you so he wanted to try as well. You patted his thigh twice, watching carefully as he responded with a slight nod. Remus held onto your legs that you had now thrown over his lap. You poked at his chest.

“We need rules.”

“I agree. What do you want?”

Your head tilted. “Do you not have any?”

“What rules could I set? It’d be absolutely ridiculous of me to act like on paper I don’t have all the power here, Y/N. All the rules are for you. Keep me in check however much you need.”

His response made you smile. There was a reason you trusted Remus. He was always aware of his own position in the world and tried not to unnecessarily impose himself on everything. He listened with intense concentration as you set all your rules. You two would stay a secret until a little after you graduated. Cedric and Sirius were allowed to know and you’d eventually tell your parents in good time. No sex, just kissing and heavy petting. The relationship when at Hogwarts was confined to Hogsmeade and the office. You would always address him properly at school, the way that you’ve been doing. Any jealousy in regards to Cedric was off-limits.

Remus laughed at the last point. He couldn’t exactly control if he got jealous of how close you and your friend were but he promised to not let it get out of hand and to talk to you about it if it ever got bad. He raised a single eyebrow when you giggled suddenly. Your fingers traced his scars and mustache.

“What’s so funny, darling?”

“My parents are going to kill you when I finally tell them.”

“Who should I be worried about more, Mum or Dad?”

“Definitely Dad. Mum’s a lot older than him so she can’t really talk.”

“How much older?”

“Two years less than our gap… but she was never his professor.”

“Ahh, if only I met you at a bar.”

“Actually they met at a grocery store.”

“Hmm, well, even better.”

“Remus, can I kiss you?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

You both had the lingering taste of tea on your lips. Remus felt heat rising to his face as you placed a hand on his chest. His hands carefully found your waist, never going any lower. You both pulled away slowly, wanting to savor the moment. Remus kissed the scar on your cheek before resting his forehead on yours.

“Do you really want this?” he asked in a whisper.

“I do.”

He pressed another kiss to your scar. Remus practically pulled you down as he leaned back on the sofa. The two of you stayed like that for a moment. You talked about nothing and everything while holding hands. Eventually, you got up to go return to Cedric who was probably dying at not knowing what was happening. With a promise to return tomorrow, you left.

The cottage was a nice little refuge. You and Remus could ignore everyone else. It was just the two of you. He got a kick out of watching you flutter about the house. You were still going on about how he could improve the place and the changes that should be made. Remus grabbed your hand when you came close to the couch once again after talking about the bay window he should add.

“Instead of nagging me about it, how about you save all these changes for when you move in?”

“Don’t say promises you can’t keep, you’re making my heart flutter.”

He smiled in satisfaction. “Who said I can’t keep it?”

A soft scoff escaped your mouth as you tried not to smile. “You were such a player back at Hogwarts, weren’t you?”

“Darling, if we had gone to school at the same time, you wouldn’t have given me a second look.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. Tall, reads books, nice guy who blushes easily, friends with the quidditch captain and resident bad boy. Remus Lupin, I think you were exactly my type.”

You laughed as he pulled you down to him, tickling you and showering you in kisses while joking that you were just teasing him. He liked watching you smile. He enjoyed it even more when he knew that it came from something he caused. Sometimes he still asked himself what he was doing with you. But he still wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Part 7...

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@venomsvl  @summerellaz @supernaturallover2002 @sambucky8 @9daykrisr  @thebitchinleo @23victoria  @scarlets-widow @siriuslysirius1107  @lovexnatasha  @awesomebooklover17  @1234-angelika  @imatrisk  @blackreaderatrisk  @princess-jules47 @alexloveskili @a-marie-a

[cheri-translates]

Cheri, what do you think the guys would be like as girls? Shaw reminds me of Marshall Lee (from adventure time) and now I'm kinda like... would girl Shaw just be like Marceline? I just cant get the gender swap idea out of my head

Hello~ To me, their personalities wouldn’t change even if they’re girls! Rather, the people around them might treat them a little differently...

[ VICTORIA ]

To the outside world, she’s viewed as a shrewd perfectionist with a vicious tongue whose only goal is to develop LFG to greater heights

For the first few months as her personal secretary, that’s what Goldman believes as well

...until he sees her signing a document using a pen with a wobbly Shiba Inu at the top

...until he sees her brows quirking upwards upon spotting a fancy camel figurine during an overseas business trip

...until he sees tufts of cat fur sticking to her suit while chauffeuring her home

Sure, he has been on the receiving end of her sharp tongue, but those criticisms are always targeted at his work and are never personal attacks

The revelation that Victoria isn’t actually a heartless beast allows Goldman to focus less on being petrified in her presence and instead focus more on being a good assistant

It takes a few more months to fully adjust to her working style, but they soon become a power duo in navigating complex business deals

Goldman also proves to be very useful in holding Pudding still so that Victoria can bathe it without a hitch

While Victoria teaches him how to grow a tougher backbone to survive in the business world, Goldman teaches Victoria how to be more personable (e.g. how to smile without giving their colleagues nightmares)

It soon becomes no secret among the employees that the No. 1 ship in LFG is #GoldVictory, even though the parties involved are completely unaware of such office gossip

What could be more juicy than seeing the cliché “Clumsy Secretary x Cold CEO” trope come to life?

For now, the both of them are way too busy handling divestment matters (one of them being a dying film company producing a show called Miracle Finder), but who knows what the future will hold for them?

[ GAVINE ]

Being a rare female in the male-dominated STF means that Captain Gavine gets tons of unwanted attention

Which is why Captain Eli takes it upon himself to fend off potential suitors and warn the new recruits not to try anything with her

Unfortunately, there’s only so much Eli can do when he’s up against someone like Minor

Minor has had a crush on Gavine since high school after she saved him from bullies. Since then, he’s been working on himself in the hope of protect her someday

He still has a long way to go, but at least he’s trying :’)

One thing he has done is to get a job at a film company, which gives him opportunities to document and showcase the grand adventures and noble sacrifices of the STF to the world

Cue an epic love triangle (or a love line...?) where Eli and Minor both vie for Gavine’s attention

Sadly for the both of them, their attempts are nothing more than a gust of wind to Gavine, whose attention is mostly focused on the stars, Sparky, and the many flowers that have wilted in her care

Will she eventually pick Minor, the boy from her past who has been working tirelessly on self-improvement in a clumsy yet endearing manner? Maybe.

Will she pick Eli, the boy from her present who’s always ready to protect her just as she protected him during the Hell Mission? Maybe.

Will she pick Officer Landsman? No.

Or has her past, present and future already been stolen a long time ago by that person in the photo she always keeps in her pocket?

[ LUCIENNE ]

Cool female professor

[ KIRA ]

Savin has always taken pride in his ability to keep his professional and private life separate

Which is why he finds it odd when he realises how easily he caves in to Kira’s whims and fancies

For example, allowing her to go out for hotpot the moment her puppy eyes are in operation

While Kira’s fans are completely charmed by her radiance and talent on stage, Savin finds himself charmed by the sides of Kira that aren’t privy to the public

He’s the only one who knows what Kira looks like without make-up and with her hair not curled to perfection

He’s the only one who gets to see her smashing the piano keys in frustration, wondering when inspiration will strike

He’s the only one who has seen how insecure Kira can get about her songs and the authenticity of the love from her fans

He’s the only one who has seen the amount of willpower she summons to maintain a smile in spite of the overwhelming stress of being a celebrity, and how she goes even further to bring smiles to everyone she meets

It’s truly a miracle that he could be Kira’s agent when there are so many other agents and celebrities in Loveland City

Speaking of which...

“Savin, have you heard of ‘Miracle Finder’? The Producer of that show asked if I could make an appearance.”

“Kira, you know how packed your schedule is...”

“Savin pleaseee (ಡ‸ಡ)”

“....................I’ll see what I can do.”

[ SHAZ ]

When it comes to Shaz, the friend zone is basically a boundless vortex that potential suitors find themselves trapped in

Aside from her general ignorance about romance, it’s also difficult to find a guy who’s both spontaneous enough to keep up with her adrenaline-filled lifestyle, and also patient enough to listen to her gush over every artefact in a museum

But the way her eyes sparkle when she dives into her hobbies motivates Adam to burn the midnight oil as he skims through a history book, hoping to impress her with tidbits of knowledge during their trip to an exhibition the next day

There’s no need for a precognition Evol to know that he will not succeed

“Shaz, I’ll be taking the subway to the exhibition tomorrow. You?”

“Mm... Bus 330. See ya.”

More original and translated writings: here

[pastxlscorp]

Bully! Mitsuya Fanfic (pt.2)

Chapter II: Exigence

✿ Word Count: 2.6k

✿ Pairing: Takashi Mitsuya x reader

✿ Topics covered: (Eventual) Enemies to lovers trope, Mitsuya POV, tsundere-Mitsuya, bully! Mitsuya, fem. reader, manga spoilers, slight angst + smut

“You look so pretty while you’re sleeping.”

The tender voice-- so gentle, so sweet-- it began to echo within his mind. He, at first, had thought he was dreaming but that voice-- oh that beautiful voice, it tempted him so dearly. He began to chase the voice, following it through the mess of his mind, his thoughts, firmly clasping it and--

It isn’t you.

He opened his eyes, closing them instantly again as the light burned them intensely. He waited a few seconds before trying again, his eyes beginning to readjust as the light became calmer and more bearable. He was face to face with a woman-- he couldn’t seem to recognize her. Her voice, her pleasant voice… it had sounded too similar to your own, he could’ve sworn it was you, laying beside him naked with your head drooping over him as you admired him sleeping. Looking closer upon the woman in front of him, he recognized her as one of his classmates and member of his Home-Economics club. It began to come back to him slowly, how exactly he ended up here. It was just the usual after all, sleeping with women to satisfy his needs-- or rather, his suppressed desires.

He happened to only share one class with you-- of course, it was Designer-101. In this class, the professor would instruct and teach you about the most trendy styles going on, or some older styles that were coming back in fashion and how to incorporate them into your works. It was a very intricate class but you both were determined to accomplish your dreams, even if it meant passing this dread of a course. However, as hard as it might be, Mitsuya fully enjoyed every aspect of the course because it was fun to clash styles, colors, and fabrics just to accomplish the final design. He had noticed you took great pride in this class, too, and even incorporated these color schemes into your lighting and filter ideas. While he’d never admit it to your face, his heart fluttered seeing your eyes gloss over your masterpiece and grin, taking a few moments to admire your work. He rarely bothered you in this case for this exact reason, although he couldn’t help the occasional tease, just to see your squirm.

┃ “Y/N, dear, are you alright? You seem to be struggling a little bit with this embroidery pattern.”

┃ “Sorry, Professor! I’ll get the hang of it quickly, I’m sure, just a small obstacle!” You reassured him, giving him the warm smile Mitsuya mourned losing and wished he could see from the receiving end just once more.

Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuya had eavesdropped on the entire conversation table next to yours. You had attempted to choose a seat that was far away from him, but he picked up on that quite quickly and decided, just out of spite, to sit the table directly horizontal from you. Desperately yearning for a small scrap of your attention, he quickly stepped besides the Professor but composed himself before saying

┃ “Professor, if I may… since Y/N seems to be having a rough time, I can help them out. If that’s with your permission, of course, sir.” He said with that bastardly shit-eating smile that made your stomach turn inside out while wrapping his arm around your shoulder. It was the smile that captivated teachers with it’s innocence and purity-- if only they knew that it was the mischievous smile that you were accustomed to seeing after he was done with you.

Before you could offer a rebuttal, your professor smiled genuinely and nodded, thanking Mitsuya before walking off and mumbling how he was such a good kid. As soon as your Professor had made it to the other side of the enormous classroom, Mitsuya turned to you, shit-eating grin beginning to form into a devious smirk as he finally had some alone-time with you.

┃ “Hey baby~” His voice came out smoothly like butter, words falling out of his mouth as if this was the entire script planned out in his head. Little did you know, it was.

┃ “You’re only helping me figure this embroidery pattern out, that’s it, no rebuttals, nothing more. Got it?” You spat harshly, making that smirk on his face quickly turn into a scowl as you once more rejected any flirtatious opportunity he threw at you.

He scoffed, not acknowledging your question with a nod or even the common courtesy of a reply, but he moved off to the other side of the table to grab the needle that was engraved in the cloth you were attempting to sew on. Even though he moved on pretty quickly, your words had stung him deeply, as it made it clear to him any romantic opportunity he had with you had been reduced and diminished into nothing. He placed it in front of you, motioning his hand for you to continue what you were doing before folding them over his chest. You growled, assuming that this was him punishing you for not reciprocating his flirts. However, it ended up being the exact opposite, as he intently observed your stitch, attempting to pinpoint where you were going wrong. Your accuracy was fine, your hands enwrapped the needle firmly but gently as you intertwined it within the cloth and there, he had picked up on what you were doing wrong. He carefully set himself behind you, having his chest press against your back as he wrapped his arms around you to hold your hands. The surprise caught your breath and made it hitch, feeling his ice-cold hands gently coddle your warm ones, balancing out the heat. Catching on to your growing flustered state, he smirked but his voice disguised it perfectly as he explained your mistake to you while beginning to guide your fingers through the cloth.

┃ “Your accuracy, your grip, all of that is perfect, sweetheart. Your mistake is you pull the needle out too early before allowing it to catch proper depth within the cloth. That’s why the final design comes out messy.” He explains, his words sounding almost like a textbook, professional, informative, while also comforting your tensed shoulders with his velvety voice and pet names as he continued to guide your hands until you reached the end of the segment.

Subconsciously, you had begun to relax in his grip, leaning your back into his chest as you finally perfected the technique with little help from his assistance as he withdrew his hands and allowed you to continue without him, setting his hands on the table and caging you in. He took the moments of silence to indulge in the warmth of your back pressing against him, a moment that came so rarely yet drove him insane every time your skin happened to graze him. You, on the other hand-- your mind was far from relaxed. You questioned why he was being so tender with you when he was so rough with you earlier, unprovokingly shoving you to the ground and humiliating you in front of your classmates. You opened your mouth to question him, but reluctantly closed it once you realized you wouldn’t get a real answer if you questioned him. After all, after being so kind the next day he’d return to normal as if nothing happened-- as if there was no spark between you both. He awoke you from your thoughts by placing his fingers below your chin, softly lifting your face to meet his own.

┃ “Cat got your tongue? Or maybe I will, soon~” he giggled to himself, grinning down at you, this time a genuine smile that expressed pure delight.

┃ “What happened to us, Mitsuya?” You bluntly asked, causing him to tense, his smile forming into a poker face as he contemplated your question carefully.

Months-- months ago, you were standing there after school after one of their club meetings next to the campus entrance, waiting for someone as she told him. He offered to wait with you but you told him it was okay-- no, you shooed him off, giving him some excuse as to why he couldn’t wait with her. A little arrow pierced through his lovestruck heart but he nodded and walked away, however he did not leave. He remained across the street hiding in the corner, far enough for her to not notice he still remained on campus grounds but close enough to still see her patiently waiting. He insisted his duty as her club president was to watch over her and ensure her safety, of course, there was nothing special about that. Any club member would do a little spying just to ensure their kohai’s well-being. She was pushing him away, that wasn’t normal, so surely something must be wrong. That was when that little shit Takemichi came along and his mouth fell open, in shock she knew a loser like him. Hanagaki Takemichi did not attend their university, however, he was a part of Toman, which was still growing in power. Takemichi had only joined recently but he had quickly won the hearts of Mikey and Draken, therefore anyone would think Mitsuya liked him too. How far from the truth that statement was-- Mitsuya despised Takemichi. His dumbass couldn’t fight for shit-- no brains nor brawn. During the fight with Valhalla, he was tasked with saving Baji and couldn’t even do so. Thankfully, Baji had survived his stab wounds, although the doctors informed Mitsuya and the others he was very lucky to have lived. On lesser issues, Takemichi also shows no signs of respect-- going as far as to punch the recently appointed 3rd division captain, Kisaki Tetta. What the fuck were you doing with someone like him? He watched your interaction so diligently, taking every note of laughter, smiles, and nods you gave Takemichi until Mitsuya began to feel himself clutching his knuckles so tight they looked like they were about to pop right out of his fists. Was everything you had gone through for the past few months nothing more than a game? Had he misunderstood your feelings-- was there really no spark between you both? The thought of this made his stomach drop, hitting him like a truck. No no, that was clearly the case, there was no other reason why you'd giggle so much around Takemichi, smile at him so fondly, or gaze at him as your eyes began to sparkle whenever he got enthusiastic about whatever the fuck it was he was talking about.

The next thing he knew, he was yelling at you after club hours the next day, shouting about how much of a dumbass you were, and how you failed to pick up on social cues around you. Many other insults came flying out his mouth, hitting you like bricks, piling up and causing the tears to build up. Truthfully, the entire situation was an entire blur to him. All he could remember was the close proximity of your faces as he yanked your chain when you attempted to talk back, which is when he noticed the tears welling up in your eyes, threatening to fall if provoked any further. You were released from his grip instantly and in a calm voice, he allowed you to exit, a loud sniffle accidentally slipping out of your lips as you ran out of the room before he could see you cry. He stared at you blankly, reminiscing before releasing your chin from his gentle fingers and backing away from you as he replied:

┃ “I could ask you the same.”

You remained looking at him for a few moments, before deciding it wasn’t worth engaging with him. He watched as you carried your project back to your designated locker, locked it, and put on your backpack before asking the professor if you could leave since it was time to go. Glancing at his watch, he announced class was dismissed and you quickly rushed out before bumping into Hakkai directly outside the door to the left, who was waiting for Mitsuya. You apologized to him instantly, to which he smiled and patted your head. A conversation ensued between the two of you and as Mitusya walked out, he saw the two of you engaging and laughing. It almost identically mimicked the way you acted with Takemichi, innocently smiling and staring at him so adoringly. He envied the comfortability you both shared in your relationship, the air bubbling with chemistry. He doesn’t realize how hard he’s staring until one of his club members taps his shoulder, greeting him and complimenting his outfit.

┃ “Hey, Kashi! Love your jacket, is it new?”

Now he’s here, back at his place with one of his kohai’s as he pushes her into the wall, roughly kissing her and quickly unbuttoning her shirt as she unzips his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders and soon the rest of their clothes follow. Moans and groans fill the room, although most of them are hers. He’s painfully silent throughout their session, too frustrated to really focus on her-- however, she’s too accentuated on her own pleasure to notice he’s simply using her as a stress reliever and nothing more. There’s nothing wrong with her, she’s beautiful, she’s skilled, talented, kind, but she’s simply not you. She looks nothing like you but her voice, oh god her voice, it sounded almost just like yours. Her moans made his skin heat up, imagining it was your warm silky hands embracing him, you begging him to love you more. It was enough to satisfy him for now, just enough to pretend the woman he was pleasuring so much was you. She moaned his name and he bit his lip, using all of his might to fight the instinct to moan out your name instead. His slams grew harsher and tougher, releasing all of that pent up desire and anger in single strokes. The rest of the night was a blur, as soon as he pulled off the condom he went to sleep, bored of her.

┃ “Kashi~”

He sighed, remembering his idiocy of yesterday evening and how he’d now have to gently reject this girl without letting her know he simply used her as a distraction. He spent a good minute contemplating her name before she spoke to him again.

┃ “Kashi? You alright?”

┃ “Mmh, sorry... just tired.”

┃ “Ah, it’s fine sleepyhead~ you know, yesterday was really fun, we should do it more often. How about a date tonight?.”

┃ “Awh...dear… that’s awfully sweet of you… I’m just not looking for something serious right now. I’m just into one-night stands at the moment.”

┃ “Oh… oh! Maybe we could be sex partners then?”

┃ “Ah, Sure… sure.” He privileged her with a smile of pure pity, relaxing his head back on the pillow, hoping to drift back to sleep so once he awoke she’d be long gone. The plan was if she ever reached out for sex again, he’d just come up with some excuse on how he was busy finishing a project. His mind drifted off, thinking about seeing you in class, only to remember it was a Saturday and that meant he didn’t have class with you-- in fact, Saturday’s were a relatively free day for him. He booked himself with classes every other day and decided he should have at least one day off. You know what that meant? He’d have to fucking dread it with this chick until she took the hint and left. The faster he fell asleep, the sooner this day would be over. He didn’t bother to listen to the woman as she continued speaking to him, closing his eyes as he censored her out and slowly drifted back to sleep.

tags: @haiq-trash, @blackmysticalsimp @the2ndl @bren-heron

a/n: f in the chat for anyone who thought bully! Mitsuya had healthy coping mechanisms, also you should check out @darenimo if you already haven't because she helped me proofread this chapter and gave me all of her commentary while reading it and I sobbed for a good 10 minutes straight. I love she.

[atzuums]

dazed & confused — kuroo tetsurou smau

summary:

failing a class means one thing, sleep with the professor’s teaching assistant and manipulate him into faking your grades. unfortunately plans don’t always go they way they are intended.

pairing: kuroo x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut, crack (failing attempts at being funny)

tropes: college au, forbidden love, unrequited love

warnings: 18+ scenes, manipulation, smut, lying, cursing, sexual language(+ more will be introduced later)

taglist: (open)

schedule: 5 days a week

status: onhold

losers club | the pests

PERIOD 1: HIST 1050

1. psycho behavior

2. professor grouch

3. smarty pants

4. i would never

5. pretty

6. make me

7. uh oh

9. chemical reaction

10. biohazard

PERIOD 2: PSYCH 1500

1. lights down low

2. confusing

3. only therapy

4. fighting for my life

5. picture perfect

6. hit the brakes

7. since the i day i met you

8. losing my mind

9. where are you

10. used to losing

PERIOD 3: CHEM 1235

1. ruins

2. dui

3. like the first time

4. real life

5. believe me

6. my pleasure

7. partner in crime

8. my dream

9. she knows

10. dazed & confused

[luvkun4]

Back at it again in your askbox with another self indulgent little ramble~ So, Kunikida professor/student isn't uncommon, it's excellent, (like the wonderful one you did on your old blog 🤤) but like. Hear me out.

Professor/student with Kunikida as the student. Whether it just be roleplay or he's worried about his grade in a course (and while dicking down the professor/assistant for a grade isn't exactly his ideal, it's better than having to leave the class with a low one).

But also like. With inexperienced Kunikida too, giving him some "supplemental lessons". Guiding him through how to please you as you demean him for being willing to go this far for a grade, holding it above his head if he cums too soon less extra credit. I just. The power dynamic pleasseeee

~🎀

*shaky sigh* everything you send me makes me wanna scream /pos

FIRST OF ALL, YES. this trope with Kunikida is so typical but it’s just soo fitting for him it’s nearly impossible not to consider yet. and while i could ramble on about professor!Kunikida, you’ve intrigued me with student!Kunikida.

i think to set “goals” in your little “session” would be great motivation for him. like yea he’s already fucking you for a better grade, but the better he does, the more extra credit he gets. even if he doesn’t need too much, he’ll still put in 110% bc he deserves that 100% A in your class & he’ll do whatever it takes to get it >:(

AND INEXPERIENCED KUNIKIDA TOO, PLEASE 😩 he’s more than willing to have you teach him how to do things right, making sure to watch really closely as you guide his hands. but you have to be patient with him — Kunikida’s never done this before so he’s real sensitive :( every touch to his body makes him shiver and even just seeing you naked is enough to have his cock leaking. still, you teach him how to touch you — telling him what feels good & then saying he’ll get some extra points for every orgasm he gives you. not only does he listen well, but he’s a fast learner. immediately picking up on what he has to do to make you whine & observing what other little things make you feel good.

i think he’d become obsessed, honestly. like after that first “lesson” he’s nonchalantly begging to come back for another one, claiming there’s still so much you have to teach him. it eventually stops being about his grade in your class and quickly becomes “i want you to teach me how to fuck.” and who are you to deny him when he asks so kindly?

[moral-turpitudes]

College Headcanons: Modern!Peaky Blinders Edition

Part 1 | Part 2

Grace Burgess:

Major: Criminal Justice Minor: Fashion Merchandising

10/10 would join a sorority. She has the look and loves the parties.

Has beauty and brains, surprisingly.

Works part time as the barista at Starbucks.

Loves sticking her nose in people’s business so her major is pretty fitting.

She loves a challenge so when she gets to know Thomas Shelby, she knows he’s gonna be fun to figure out.

Studies a decent amount but uses her spare time to try to look into the Shelby’s and why they practically run campus. A little birdy told her about them.

Knows Tommy’s coffee order by heart.

Always DTF.

Is suspicious of Tommy’s inability to use technology but goes along with it cuz she wants to get to know him more.

Didn’t think she’d fall for the mysterious man with a smoking problem but here we are.

When introduced to his family, she asked too many questions about their finances and such, making them think she worked for the cops or something.

Polly still didn’t trust her despite it being a while since they first dated.

Her professor likes her, and encourages her to keep investigating as part of her project on corrupt institutions. Only her professor is a little too enthusiastic. She passes the class, but tells Tommy about him being creepy from time to time.

The next day the professor isn’t there. Hmm. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Almost fought a guy who spilt his coffee on her new dress.

Dreams of being well-off and having a fashion line of her own. Envying Ada’s knack for clothing.

Gets drunk with her sorority sisters on the weekends at the bar and does karaoke. It’s not the best, but she gets an A for effort.

About halfway through her junior year she has to leave cuz she’s dramatic and Polly may have blown her cover. So in a rash decision, she leaves Tommy on his own, making him have a fit and almost getting himself suspended but it’s fine. Polly tells him he’ll meet someone else.

Esme Lee

Major: Horticulture

Her friends all have crazy majors but she wanted something simple, so she chose horticulture. It also lets her get out of the dull college life for a while, or so she thought.

Knowing she can get her mind set on her studies, they decided to help her out and invited her to a frat party.

Everyone who was popular was there so she felt a bit out of place, until she met John randomly when she went to grab a drink.

She’s a wild one kind of like John so they mesh well together. They ended up getting drunk and dancing the night away, letting all their college worries leave them.

In her spare time she can be seen roaming campus with John or hanging out with her friends, and occasionally yelling at some people to get away from her plants at the schools gardening area.

She got along with the blinders really well, except she liked to challenge Tommy at times.

She may be small but she’s one hell of a yeller. She intimidated John the first time she yelled at him.

No one messes with her unless they want to be beaten up by her boyfriend.

Polly likes to chat with her about the business sometimes, sparing some of the details, but she knows Esme can be trusted, and besides, Esme can always force it out of John if it’s something too shady.

Apart from her social life, she does quite well for her studies, and runs a small etsy shop where she makes jewelry.

Her favorite part is uploading aesthetic photos of them to her insta and trying to get John to model for her pictures.

She, like the rest of the family, knew Grace was a snake, and always got bad vibes from Linda…smh.

When she heard news of Grace leaving, she shared a glance with John and did a happy dance internally. In regards to Linda, she wanted to claw her eyes out a bit but she held herself back. Linda would eventually get what came to her. Karma really is that bitch.

As time went on, she found herself agreeing on a whim to marry John, and later falling pregnant with her first of many children. But she’s fine with this situation as long as he helps her live her cottage!core dreams with a bunch of chickens running around while they raise their 10,000 kids.

Linda Shelby

Major: Agriculture

Minor: Religious Studies

Unhinged™

Joined a philanthropic sorority, so she mainly focuses on serving people at shelters and charities instead of serving looks at frat parties.

Claims to be a Christian.

Has the eye for anyone with a penis.

Spends most of her agriculture classes daydreaming about shooting Arthur.

Prays she has the knowledge to pass her exams instead of actually studying for them.

Just wants to live on a farm and be a housewife.

Gives off major bitch vibes no matter how many crucifixes she wears around her neck. Polly tolerates her, and so does the rest of the family, but it’s only a matter of time before someone snaps.

Textbook good-girl-gone-bad trope. Everyone knows her around campus for preaching about no sex until marriage but she be doing the nasty with her side-bae after prayer night.

Enjoys eavesdropping on the Shelby family’s conversations. She supplies Grace with information in exchange for free coffee.

Gaslighting is her second language, speaking in tongues is her third.

When she’s not planning things, she can be seen talking to Grace at Starbucks or stress-baking. She hooks her friends up with weed brownies and later switches to coke because of her boyfriend’s family *cough* Arthur.

Binge drinks on Saturdays and crawls to church on Sundays.

Gets clingy and manipulative at times.

Loves doing her religious studies homework in the chapel or the huge library on campus.

She’d do okay up until finals week, then she’d have many a break down that only cocaine could fix.

Drunk calls Arthur and lets it slip she’d been sleeping with someone the whole time they’d been together. Has 2 working braincells at that point.

He goes off on the dude as they both went to the same bible study. He begged for mercy in the middle of the church floor for Arthur to stop with the punches but we all know hell hath no fury like a person who’s been cheated on. May have almost killed him but it’s fine.

Linda finds him bleeding almost as much as Jesus did.

After crying to Grace on the phone, she snorts a couple lines and downs some shots and heads to Arthur’s dorm. Sos Linda’s got a gun.

Gets shot and lives to tell about it.

She leaves to find god perhaps after all this...or more coke, and just says “fuck it” to her degree. College isn’t for everyone, it’s ok Linda.

Poor Arthur is confused in the weeks leading to the shooting and Linda leaving. Isiah tried to warn him since he was her partner for some projects but he didn’t listen. He wanted to question Tommy’s barista bae about her too but she dipped tf out. The world may never know.

Lizzie Starke

Major: English

She’d taken up an assistants job at the business college and so she worked for nonother than Professor Polly Gray.

She got along with her well, and on Friday nights when she’d be invited out for drinks, she’d overhear Polly divulge one too many secrets about her business.

She kept her circle small so she never felt the need to tell anyone, also fearing that she wouldn’t live to see tomorrow if she did.

Polly trusted her with all her paperwork, often having to proofread and go over Tommy’s insanely long assignments and political debate notes.

Tommy would often be seen around the office, talking Polly’s ear off about business and legal issues, all while she’d get lost in his eyes as he spoke.

She knew she was out of his league, at least while Grace had him wrapped around her finger, but Polly said her day would come so she believed it.

In her spare time, she’d read poetry and sip tea, and on occasion try to teach Tommy about the world of laptops, but even she gave up after a while.

Her major took up a good deal of her time, constantly writing papers and re-reading books, but there was always one silver-lining. Tommy would often skip getting Finn’s help and go straight to her. He said it was because she gave good advice, but his demeanor said otherwise.

When he’d arrive, she’d notice him gradually improving his appearance, much like he did with Grace. And when he’d leave, Polly would shoot her a knowing look.

She may be quiet, but she’s smart, and knows when to make her moves, which both impresses Polly and intrigues Tommy.

Ends up being one of the only ones able to call Tommy out on his shit.

When she’s not around the Shelby’s she’s with her friends or hitting up bars and bookstores.

When she and Tommy finally get together, some students turned their heads at first, but they were good for each other in the long run, it just took Tommy longer to see it.

Gina Gray:

Major: Business Management

Minor: Fashion Merchandising

She came in the picture shortly after Grace’s departure. She was studying abroad but decided to come back for her business classes.

When she first laid eyes on Michael she knew he was the one, but she had to go through Polly, her professor first.

They dated for a while until he popped the question one weekend, leaving everyone in shock.

When she wasn’t fooling around with Michael, she could be seen around campus with her sorority sisters and some of her close friends. Since she was a fashion minor, she always made sure she was dressed to the nines and turned heads almost as much as Michael’s cousin Ada, almost.

Gives off bitch vibes 24/7. No one can really tell if she’s genuine in her feelings, not even Michael, poor bud.

His family thought she was suspicious like Grace, and Polly still can’t put her finger on why she feels she may have a trick up her embellished sleeves.

Michael tends to follow her like a lost puppy of sorts, but she loves the attention, and when he mentioned how his family worked she didn’t seem very phased by it, coming from a somewhat dysfunctional and power-hungry family herself.

She tries to study a decent amount but she’s always hanging out with Michael or getting herself into trouble with the cops when her sorority sisters throw parties.

She’s smart and very convincing, but Polly sees right through her, leading up to a very heated discussion between the two women after class one day.

It’s safe to say that her grades for Polly’s class are holding on by a thread, much like Polly is to her sanity.

She loves a game, whether that’s messing with people’s heads, or trying to beat her friends on game night. She always enjoys watching how they work through their problems, picking out the weakest ones in order to beat them while they’re down.

When she’s not scraping by in her business classes, she’s brainstorming fashion ideas for her numerous projects she’s left until the last minute. Somehow she’s passing the class with flying colors though.

Like Michael’s cousin Tommy, she’s always scheming over something, and so it’s only a matter of time before she fucks something up.

Aberama Gold:

Profession: Philosophy Professor

Side Job: Hitman

His teaching styles are eccentric, often taking the class on field trips to immerse them in the experience.

Goes on for hours about various stories and theories, often losing the class after 30 minutes.

Sometimes he gets called out of class by the teaching assistant because he got an “important” phone call.

“Important” phone calls mean hits and he can’t turn them down unless he wants beef with his rival gang members or people involved in the mafia.

For these reasons, he has two phones. One for his usual work and family, and one for the dirty work.

His son always teases him about having hella phones, but he ain’t no drug dealer, although he most definitely knows some by association.

Asks hard questions to his students and expects good answers.

Doesn’t believe in homework, but makes the classes very challenging and hard to skip.

In his spare time he helps out at the boxing ring, teaching his son the ropes and prepping him for competitions. Other times he helps Arthur and Finn train, all in an attempt to get them to mention their aunt Polly.

He’s in love with the woman but is a bit shy like his son. It takes him a bit to get the courage to meet her but once he does they hit it off.

Polly wasn’t turned off by his dangerous lifestyle, in fact she was turned on by it as she’s lived the same life.

When he wasn’t with Polly or helping his son, he could be seen roaming campus in his signature hat, resting in alleyways or leaving campus abruptly, obviously to go kill someone.

He’d often spend nights away from home alone in the forest, away from Polly and his family, using “philosophy research purposes” as an excuse so he could stake out targets.

He always kept his end of the bargain up, even when he had to deal with Polly’s family and their gangly family business.

Bonnie Gold:

Major: Sports Management

One of the more quiet, reserved students on campus. He can get mouthy when challenged though so watch out.

Would definitely hang with the art and english students, they’re chill.

Can be seen carrying his boxing gloves between classes and doing routine jogs around campus.

All the bitches love him but he only has his eyes on his future. He just wants to win his matches and then he’ll think about love, or so he says. He has the eye for someone in class though and it’s not long until his dad finds out.

He’s health-conscious af.

Has never eaten Ramen noodles a day in his life and doesn’t plan on it. Even if his friends Finn and Isiah try to bribe him. It’s one of the peak college experiences after all.

May have gotten drunk at a frat party and fought a tree.

Would throw hands if someone was being a dick to someone he cared about.

Takes his major seriously. He studies decently well given his dad is always on his ass about it, but when he’s done he goes to parties or hits the ring.

Often has his head in the clouds, dreaming of being a famous boxer, or at least managing a very successful sports team.

Helps his dad on hits. Not many people know this so it’s hush hush.

When he’s not shooting at his fathers enemies, he’s in the ring practicing for the big competitions.

Often spends weekends with his dad, helping to plan attacks and meeting with his blinder friends.

Almost got suspended for knocking out a couple guys cuz they insulted his father.

Attends his dads lectures just to keep an eye on things for him and because he actually finds the subject interesting. May also have a “thing” for a girl in the class but most likely won’t make a move because he’s shy af most times.

Isiah Jesus:

Major: History

Minor: Religious Studies

Despite his wild lifestyle, he likes learning about religions and how they all came to be, given his dad is a preacher.

He may not be a saint but he tries to do well in the classes at least.

Can be seen fucking around with his buds Finn and Bonnie, and going to one too many frat parties.

Finn and him would do lines of coke as soon as Arthur helped move a new supply in, and he’d try to bribe Bonnie to try it but he’d refuse and say he “has to stay clean for his matches.”

When he’s not doing coke or studying for his history or religion exams, he’s out helping the blinders on various jobs.

He often gets in trouble with security because he’s always sneaking about the dorms with some girls he met at parties.

Call it divine intervention, but he couldn’t help but feel something was “off” with the girl Arthur was seeing, cuz he’d gotten partnered up with her for some religion projects in the past and her ideas were concerning. He told Arthur to be careful but we all know what went down.

He likes joining the blinders on their business trips, often leaving his schoolwork until the last minute, just to get the opportunity to help in the business.

He and Finn rant about them not getting enough exposure to the family business but Polly quickly shoves the ideas from their heads saying they need to focus on school, at least then maybe the family could have some other potential.

Daydreams of being a full-blown leader like all the ones he’d read about in his history books. He often looks up to Tommy just as much as Finn does, which sometimes gets them both hurt.

He can be seen often at the ring training with Finn and Bonnie.

He sticks up for his family and friends, even if it means putting himself on the line. No one messes with him unless they want trouble from him and everyone he knows.