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teacher!mingi x teacher!reader

summer camp/school trip au

word count: 7.8k

genre: fluffy stuff, just tooth rotting fluff for once

synopsis: when you suggest the idea of a one week trip to give the seniors a little break before their exams, you find yourself paired with mingi as the teachers in charge of your group of students, to your surprise and satisfaction. you've had your eye on him for quite a while- but so has mingi. he proves that it isn't too late for a highschool sweetheart - him.

manager-nim: @eightmakesonebraincell (we formally salute all fluff writers bc this shit was tough)

when you heard you were accepted as a part of the crew who would be accompanying students on a one week road trip 

not only were you beyond relieved because you needed a break so bad

but you were also way too curious about who else made it into the crew

it hadn’t been long since you started teaching at eden high school

but it was the quickest you found your place as an english teacher

it was surprising how well you got along with the staff here considering your not-so-excellent experience at your previous school

and the students here were just students, yes, just like everywhere but

you were pretty sure this was the most adored you had been

perhaps because you were in charge of the seniors who really needed someone like you- a person they could confide their problems and concerns in

a person who would offer solutions instead of telling them that it was just a fleeting worry

a person who would notice when they were beyond exhausted with the pressure of being, well, a senior

you remember how hard it was when it was your time and you wouldn’t want your students to go through the same thing

which was why you once suggested to mr. kim that perhaps the students would appreciate a trip

it was just a casual observation you had made and when mr. kim said ‘perhaps they really need it’, you weren’t sure if he was being serious

but turns out that he was, and the preparations began

not all the teachers could join but you had to be a part of it, mr. kim said, since you suggested it in the first place

you got so busy with assuring the students that they would have fun and they had nothing to worry about

talking to their parents in case they were being reluctant to send their kid, thinking it was a waste of time

convincing the students who were taking their studies way too seriously that they needed this- they really didn’t want to be burned out when exams would be near

that it slipped your mind- another suggestion for mr. kim to take mr. song along

mr. song mingi- the history teacher- the one who made history quite fun to learn

you had specifically planned with the staff- including him- to visit a few historical sights on the road-trip

however, he wasn’t the only history teacher here so you weren’t sure if he would be tagging along

and you never got the chance to ask him

(or even if you did, you were too shy)

but the day finally came

way too early in the morning when even the sun was asleep, you were standing by the bus counting the heads

almost all of your students made it- it was a bummer that some couldn’t but you promised to take them out for dinner after you were back

it was the least you could do for them

the girls were all over you, finding your casual style pretty intriguing

they had only ever seen you in professional clothing, tied hair and reading glasses on the bridge of your nose

so with your hair down, shades hanging by the neckline of your light blue sundress

the girls were pleased, yes, but the boys couldn’t help but share the sentiment too

“miss y/n, you should wear dresses more often!”

“light blue is your colour!”

“your hair looks so good-”

“come on now,” a familiar voice boomed and if you thought the flood of compliments from your students was making you smile

the smile changed into a grin, almost a giggle when you turned to the source

the source being none other than song mingi- in a loose sleeveless white shirt with a denim outerwear and matching jeans

song mingi may be a ‘boring history teacher’ like you sometimes teased him

but that man has got impeccable style

“stop flattering poor miss y/n and find your seats, come on!”

the students laughed but obeyed and the class pres started the roll call

and you felt a little somersault in your stomach when you locked eyes with mingi

“you made it”

he grinned back. “did you think i wouldn’t?”

“i was hoping you would, actually.”

and that took mingi off guard

you weren’t always forward with what you said unlike him and he found you a bit hard to read sometimes

and oftentimes, you surprised him with your actions or your words, just like you did now

but mingi knew when to make something out of an opportunity

“well, you’re stuck being paired with the boring old history teacher. hope you don’t mind.”

“i never called you old, though,” you told him, smiling to yourself before following the guard’s orders and getting on the bus

.

mingi, of course, sat next to you, the only seat available

and you marvelled at the turn of events

because how long had you wished for some sort of proximity to happen?

it wasn’t easy to be alone in the school with him- not that you wanted to do anything alone with him, but

sometimes, you thought, it would have been nice if you got one-to-one interaction with him that wasn’t related to grading each other’s papers 

or sharing pointers about the next exam

sometimes, he would find you alone with your head in your hands

and he would decide not to disturb you and leave a little something for you near your desk for you to spot if you, well, got your head out of your hands

a candy or a ‘cheer up!’ note

you would also find him alone in some classroom sometimes

you noticed he preferred to be alone at times so you knew to look in his classroom first instead of the staff room

he would be so absorbed in whatever he was doing

that you would simply watch him until he felt your gaze burning into his skin

and then you would pretend to have been passing by 

and of course you ‘accidentally’ bought two of whatever you were going to snack on

mingi would offer you to join him but most of the times, you let him be

but sometimes, if the staff room was too noisy, you would join him

and the two of you would sit at opposite ends of the classroom doing your own work

(while secretly stealing glances but nobody needed to know that)

so now that you finally got to be alone with him

ignoring the twenty-some noisy children in the back- they could be considered background noise

you couldn’t help but play with your fingers

the bus started and mingi initiated conversation

telling you who was paired with who

each bus had at least one male and one female teacher and only two out of the four buses had two teachers

the other being jongho and gyeoul

“ah, gyeoul is going to forget she’s a teacher. i bet she’ll be sitting with the students playing uno with them.”

“jongho is going to drive the kids away with his dad jokes,” mingi tsk-ed. “but guess the most interesting pairing?”

us?

“hongjoong, wooyoung and yuqi.”

“no way!” you actually laughed out loud this time. “hongjoong’s going to regret ever planning this trip.”

“you bet,” he scoffed. “seonghwa, mina and eunha are in the other bus.”

“all the calm ones?”

“i switched with seonghwa, actually,” he admitted and you raised a brow. “seonghwa gets along with them. i get along with you. we might as well have a good time too, now that we’re here, right?”

right.

he switched to be with you

“you sure you won’t regret that decision?”

you didn’t expect his eyes to travel all over your face and his lips to curve into a smirk

“i’m sure.”

and that was your cue to check on your students

you took a round, making sure everyone was comfortable and told them all to just take a nap

there wasn’t anything interesting going to happen for a good few hours

lucky for you, the kids were sleepy

so the bus fell quiet, the driver assuring you that you both could relax too- there was another driver to keep him company anyway

so you asked mingi if he was sleepy

“not yet. are you?”

“not yet,” you confirmed.

“are you comfortable? do you need anything?”

you relaxed back, shoulder to shoulder with mingi, a small blanket on your lap. “i’m good. do you need anything?”

“not for now, nope,” he took a deep breath. “how long has it been since your last trip?”

.

and that was how you found yourself actually relaxing and talking to him

you told him your last trip was a while ago with your family

you didn’t want to count school trips but you told him about that too

and he told you about his experiences

just like that, you got to know each other a little better

details you wouldn’t have shared otherwise

from random facts about each other:

“i used to love reading. i became an english teacher because i would consume books like nothing else. but i haven’t read a new book in about a year.”

“i hated the idea of being a history major until one of my professors started using storytelling as a way to get us to learn about the world. i still remember the stories he’d make up.”

to gossip:

“i think i saw wooyoung checking out eunha earlier”

“don’t you think mina’s got a thing for seonghwa?”

somewhere between all of that, you got too sleepy to continue talking

you didn’t realise when you dozed off but when you woke up with a weight on your side

your heart almost stopped when you realised it was mingi resting his head against your shoulder

and quite comfortably at that

you realised you may have been resting your face on his head too

and the current position with your neck upright was sending a painful wave down your shoulder

so you decided to give in, checking the time- you could sleep for another hour

you went back to resting your face on top of his head, the bubbly smell of his shampoo lulling you right back to sleep

you woke up when you felt the bus stop and when you groggily lifted your head

you realised that mingi had been awake for quite some while, using his phone

but he never moved because you were using his head as a pillow

“oh my god,” you said, hiding your face in your hands so he wouldn’t see your flaming cheeks. “i’m sorry, i didn’t realise-”

“it’s okay,” mingi chuckled, waving his hand in dismissal. “i’m to blame too.”

you looked at him to make sure it was really okay and when he said, “your snores are cute” you chucked your blanket at him and looked around

you were making a quick stop at a rest area

you woke the kids up and told them now was the time to get snacks or use the toilet

you met up with the teachers to have coffee, everyone in good spirits having woken up from their naps

the wind already felt different and fresh now that you were a few hundred miles away from the city

with newfound energy, you all got back into your buses and that was when the fun started-

for the kids.

it was suddenly too lively and noisy, loud music blasted in the bus and a few kids showing off their dance moves, the rest cheering them on

you clapped along, reminiscing about your own highschool time

soon, you reached the first town on your list- a town known for its historical ruins

though the kids had been complaining about visiting ruins- what’s there to learn about ruins?

you assured them the trip would only get better and you kept the ‘boring’ sites for the first few days

because you wanted to end the trip on a cheerful note- the beach

as the kids crowded and started following the teachers, you took note of their complaints and unsatisfied grunts

and though panic started bubbling in your heart- maybe you shouldn’t have put this town on the list? all your anxieties faded away when a certain history teacher stepped in to save the day

“alright, remember when i told you guys about the spirit of the exiled princess that haunts a certain town? that people spot in the forest sometimes?”

“is the spirit pretty?” a boy asked, earning a bunch of snickers from the crowd

but the way mingi smirked made them all shut up

“i guess you’ll find out soon.”

you winced when the kids burst into a chorus of cheers or frightened screams and the teachers shared a good laugh at how mingi handled this

“remember- if you find a four-leaf clover, the spirit might spare you!”

and as mingi guided them along the town, sharing fun facts about the sites, the kids kept their eyes trained on the ground in chances of finding the lucky leaf

really, it was worse than a needle in a haystack

.

after visiting a few sites, you found yourselves in the heart of the town, at a food street

all the class presidents were instructed to make sure the kids stay in sight and that they were free to go eat whatever they wanted

the kids were simply famished and just wanted those corn dogs and fish cakes

the staff took a table in the centre and you were glad that it was a weekday today- apart from a few people, you were the only ones here

you all got some noodles and double checked on your accommodations- it was supposed to rain so you wanted to check-in before dark

just like that, it was time to go find shelter

you stuck with your group of students like every other teacher 

and when you reached the lodge, you made sure everyone went to their rooms before finding your own that you were to share with the female staff

the rest of the girls were already there, removing their makeup and stretching. you smiled as you followed suit

“this trip is exactly what i needed,” yuqi slumped down on the mattress as she said. “even though today was a bit boring, the weather makes up for it.”

“well, the night isn’t over yet,” gyeoul smiled mischievously. “it doesn’t have to end on a boring note.”

she came up with the genius idea of having drinks in the backyard with the boys

mina sighed in disappointment because if gyeoul had told her earlier, she wouldn’t have removed her makeup so soon

“you’re pretty anyway,” eunha told her, grabbing her hand and dragging her out

you told them you would join after a few minutes and changed into your pjs like the rest

when you went to the backyard, you let out a surprised laugh

because the boys had already prepared drinks for all of you before gyeoul

“great minds think alike” hongjoong said

“rich coming from you because all it takes is one drink and it’s game over for you,” wooyoung said and seonghwa’s laughter boomed in the air

“you’re no good either, seonghwa!” mingi pointed at the teacher, clicking his glass with wooyoung’s and sharing a shot

you smiled to yourself- it looked like you were going to make really good memories on this trip

you took a seat between the noisy ones- wooyoung and yuqi- and immediately started regretting it

because not only were the two of them were making you drink a lot, ensuring a good hangover

but they also kept teasing everyone (including you) and you thought they were too loud

not that you weren’t having fun

you surprised everyone by joining them after a few drinks, though you couldn’t defend yourself like the two did

what a team they made

of all the people, mingi noticed that perhaps… you needed to switch seats

or the environment- he didn’t want you to get too drunk

so when he subtly motioned for you to follow him, you nodded in answer

he told the drunk lot he would get more drinks

as if there weren’t a bunch of unopened bottles on the ground 

but thankfully they were too busy roasting each other to notice

and then you made the excuse of wanting to go to the toilet and left

you walked inside the hall, trying to figure out exactly where mingi had gone

you almost walked past him in the dark corridor and if mingi hadn’t grabbed your arm, you wouldn’t have known

you turned towards him, eyes wide in surprise

he immediately let go of you, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable

“wanna go see the stars?”

when he said that, you didn’t realise it would become a nighttime ritual for the two of you

because away from the city, you could see so many stars

that drunken night, you watched the stars with him in silence

too afraid to speak lest he figure out the desires within your heart

the desire to be with him, to get to know him more, to simply talk to him

but that comfortable silence definitely created a shift in your dynamics.

.

you didn’t travel much the next day, just explored the surroundings and made a trip to the top of the hill

taking as many photos as you wanted

capturing candids of the students and the teachers to share with them later

watching in fascination as some of the kids caught bugs quite easily

thanking the girls who made flower bracelets for all of you

and when you caught mingi smiling at the bracelet on his wrist, you showed off yours

“the boring old history teacher received a gift?” you teased

“you have to admit that they’re creative,” he laughed. “look- the boys want them too.”

the boys, in fact, wanted them. they were all queued up waiting for the girls to give them all a bracelet- or a ring

“oh, when we go back, there are gonna be so many campus couples,” eunha joined the two of you to watch the sight

really, it was pretty obvious who liked who- they wanted to receive the flowers from the person they liked

and the girls wanted to give the flowers to the person they liked

you wondered if they were so obvious… were you too? 

because it was common knowledge that wooyoung liked eunha- even right now, you caught him stealing glances at her

and if you looked behind you, mina was listening to seonghwa quite intently while he rambled on about something

hongjoong, who was right there, seemed the least interested

so when you looked up at mingi, you caught him staring at you and your heart skipped a beat

“you’ve got a little something on your head- a petal.”

“where?” you ran your fingers through your hair where he pointed but it seemed like you didn’t get it

and mingi decided to take the matter into his own hands and leaned down a bit to pick the petal from near your ear

and just like that, time stopped for a few seconds

maybe you should stop really stop reading novels

even though you haven’t read one in about a year

but just like in the books, the length of the duration- despite being only a matter of a few seconds- seemed too long

as you met his eyes, the golden rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his skin

and making his dark orbs more prominent

you wished he was wearing shades right now so you wouldn’t be entranced by the way his eyes scanned your face

but you blinked, and the moment was over- he drew away and tossed the petal on the ground, smiling awkwardly

and you were so glad jongho called you at that moment, having spotted a kitten and knowing how much you liked cats

you got busy with him, burying that moment aside for the time being

that night, you came back to the same lodge

you didn’t drink this time, having learned your lesson from how bad the hangover was in the morning

but you played a few games of uno and perhaps… this was noisier than last night

because there were quite a few sneaky players in this game

gyeoul and jongho- the evil duo of the school

“have some shame,” wooyoung tsk-ed at gyeoul who grinned at jongho- only you seemed to have noticed the look they shared

the look of an underlying scheme

you were sometimes surprised by how well they got along despite gyeoul being a few years older than all of you, and jongho being the youngest teacher in the school

like attracts like, apparently. evil attracts evil

you noticed jongho mouth a number at gyeoul and you realised what was going on

they either took a peek at the other teacher’s cards since there wasn’t much space here to hide your cards properly

or when jongho had shuffled the cards… he had pulled some trick at that time

either way, you weren’t going to let the two of them win- at least not them

so you looked at mingi who was right in front of you, and you subtly let him know that the two were at it again

he stifled a smile, whispering ‘i got this’ 

and the tables turned when within a few minutes, he somehow tricked gyeoul into playing her wild cards but completely destroyed her

he did not win the game but to you, he was the winner

and you told him that when he asked if you wanted to watch the stars a bit tonight too before sleeping

he laughed loudly at that, almost getting shy

.

and that night, you talked about the most random stuff. again.

it was like you could never run out of things to talk about

after all, there was so much to talk about

the work tea

recent developments- eunha was noticing wooyoung back and seonghwa was still an airhead

you thought seonghwa was just equally nice to everyone so it would be hard to figure out if he looked at mina differently

some students tea- one of the close-knit group of friends had a falling out during the trip

mingi was sure they would figure it out on their own

but you were sure one of them would come to you or wooyoung for advice

you both were the unofficial counsellors in your school

“why wooyoung?” mingi wondered. “why not me?”

“because you, mr. song, seem a tad bit intimidating at times.”

the puppy eyes of disbelief he made in response proved you wrong

“who? me?”

you couldn’t help but laugh at the way he was looking at you

“sometimes, yes.”

“more than wooyoung?”

“wooyoung is a literal ball of sunshine though…”

mingi turned towards you, stepping closer

“do i seem intimidating to you too?”

though it was an innocent question

it did nothing to help the butterflies in your stomach

it took everything in you to shake your head no

because he felt intimidating sometimes, that was true

and if it wasn’t for his warm personality

you might not have ever interacted properly with him

mingi laughed to himself, perhaps knowing that you might be lying

and it fell silent all of a sudden

just the sound of the crickets and the rustling of the leaves

and the loud sound of your thoughts

the next two days were a blur

and you thought that when you would go back home, you would have to look at all the photos you took

to ingrain these memories in your brain

because the days were packed travelling and having fun

the bus rides were fun and now it was mr. song who showed his dance moves to the students

he was surprisingly very good- in fact- too good

you wondered if that was why he felt so chill- because he just had this chill groove to him

which showed a lot in his dance moves when he freestyled

you had to physically go and calm the girls after this because

suddenly they were seeing the boring old history teacher in a new light

you folded your arms when mingi made his way back, still laughing at the way the girls cheered for him and the boys clapped

he asked you if you liked what you saw

and that made you smack his arm and turn your focus out of the window to hide your blush admire the scenery

now it was mostly visiting a few spots such as more historical sites and shopping points

and during the day, you were usually with the girls so you could shop together

you tried the local delicacies which was a new experience for most of the people here

and visited an apple farm to help the farmers as well

since it was a packed two days, the teachers didn’t really play more uno or drink 

though all of you would gather, this time in the common room, to plan what was next

but both of these nights, mingi offered you the same thing-

wanna see the stars?

you learned more about him and he about you

you learned that he has always loved to dance 

and he loves karaokes- especially drunk karaokes

he learned more about your previous school experience 

how they overworked you so much 

combined with gaslighting, you thought it was normal and you were just lacking

he assured you that you made a good decision quitting

and commended you for taking the big step- after all, it must have been daunting

though he did not have a similar experience, he could understand you

just like that, you learned the little things about each other

and now that the trip was almost over, you told mingi that you would like to take a walk around while you watched the stars

.

while walking, you were suddenly reminded of the time the staff went out for dinner once

and everyone was at least a bit tipsy if not drunk

when it was time to wrap up and mingi saw that you meant to walk home

he offered to accompany you

and that was only a few months after you started teaching so you weren’t very familiar with all the teachers

though you were pretty sure they were all very nice

you told mingi that he was too drunk but he insisted anyway

and you let him walk you to your neighbourhood which wasn’t far from there

now, almost two years later, you were both taking a walk again and it was oddly reminiscent of that time

and it seemed like mingi was thinking the same when he asked you if you remembered when he first walked you home

“i never told you but i didn’t remember for a while,” he confessed, the rustling of the leaves under your steps growing louder as you stepped on the autumn leaves

you weren’t surprised, if you were honest

“it’s okay. you didn’t do anything stupid. except make crow noises, but that’s okay.”

mingi covered his face in his hands as he laughed and you smiled

“i may or may not have been trying to impress you.”

“really? it was a success. i haven’t heard many people pull off crow noises that well.”

when mingi made a face at that, you lightly punched his arm

“it really is okay. but i have one little favour to ask…”

mingi knew what was coming before you said it

and you both walked a bit further from the hotel

making sure no one was around

before mingi turned away from you and made the loudest caws

and this time, you laughed heartily 

you were so absorbed in your little bubble that when you heard the sound of a door opening

probably the door of the nearest lodge who heard strange sounds in the middle of the night

you grabbed mingi’s hand instinctively and started running away from the source of the sound

the two of you couldn’t stop laughing, even as you ran

so much that it made it harder to run, actually

he took the lead and guided you to the benches to catch your breaths

and it was only after a couple of minutes when your breathing returned to normal

and the adrenaline started to wear off

that you realised the two of you were still holding hands

maybe because the muscles of your arm tensed at the sudden realisation that mingi finally noticed your joined hands

but when he glanced at you and found the corners of your lips curved in a small smile at the sight

he squeezed your hand instead of letting it go

and you looked up at him to see him shyly smiling

“what?” you asked

you couldn’t help it- you needed to know what he was thinking

“nothing, y/n,” he shook his head though he was unable to stifle his smile

“it’s not nothing,” you insisted. “why are you trying so hard not to smile?”

“it’s because i quite like this,” he finally admitted, raising your joined hands and you noticed how small your hand was in his, almost swallowed in his grip

for once, you were the one who was at a loss for words

“did i say something wrong?” mingi asked

and you wished he wasn’t so straightforward

but perhaps, it was for the better

and you thought the timing felt right too

the sky looked beautiful

the air felt like it was enveloping you in its embrace

the moon beautifully lit his face, highlighting the sharpness of his features

yet casting such a soft, welcoming glow

you shook your head, caressing the skin of his hand with your thumb in answer

there was no need for words anymore- the feelings were reciprocated, and you both could feel that

.

mingi made a daring move when he raised your joined hands in the air again

you wondered what he was up to now

but the last thing you expected was for him to kiss the back of your hand

it was such an endearing action that you could not help but giggle

“can’t we stay like this even when we go back home?”

an offer. a question. a confession. it was all of that and more

“i don’t think you can see many stars in the city though.”

“i don’t think i would have to look for stars,” mingi said, looking right at you

that was enough

you smacked his arm. “that’s the cheesiest pick up line i’ve ever heard. you really are the boring old history teacher, mingi.”

you started to go back, folding your arms and still giggling especially when mingi laughed loudly, rushing after you

you tried to run but damn his long legs

he caught up to you, running backwards in front of you now

you pouted as you tried to cross him, but he just won’t let you

“you haven’t answered my questions.”

you paused. you really hadn’t, huh?

he stepped closer to you, trying to read your face for a hint of what was going on behind your eyes

and you thought it was time to finally follow your heart’s desires

and test the waters without any fear

you stepped closer, surprising him

you placed a hand on his shoulder and he wondered what you were about to do

he shut his eyes when you stood on your tiptoes, inches away from him

and you took a moment to drink in the sight

before you pecked his cheek, a giggle escaping your mouth

and this time, you ran for your life

because you didn’t think you could take anything else right now

especially because you had waited so long for some sort of a signal from him

though you wanted nothing more than to hug him and stay there for the rest of the night

you let him chase you and let him hold your hand again

when it was time to separate to go to your respective rooms

he patted your cheek, looking at you with such soft eyes that you melted

and you knew, in that moment

that you were absolutely done for

the travelling time for the next day was a bit longer

which meant you got to spend more time with mingi on the bus

and it was a little awkward at first, the both of you fumbling around like the very teenagers you were making fun of not too long ago

the very teenagers that were on the bus right now

and it took you both a while to stop fidgeting and do something other than awkwardly laugh

thankfully, one of the students came forward with some snacks to share

and thus began a discussion of which snacks were better and which were mid-tier

you both were so enthusiastic about this that the students joined as well

before you knew it, you reached the outskirts of the village you were going to stay in for the next two days

and you thought beautiful was an understatement

the sea was so bright that it looked like a sheet of clear crystals under the sun

the air smelt of salt and sand and you felt a sense of relief

and so did the rest of the passengers- you could hear the soft sighs of the students

this was why you planned the trip

so everyone could just relax at the seaside

there was nothing planned for the last two days- there were a few sites so the students could divide into groups according to where they wanted to go

and the teachers would divide and tag along accordingly

the next two days were all about having fun

no more historical sights, as the kids teased mingi

though mingi retorted with a poetic ‘history is everywhere’ that earned him a few grimaces

as soon as you reached the lodges by the beach, the kids all ran towards the sea with the teachers shouting concerningly

thankfully, there were a few lifeguards since it was a tourist destination

so all of you decided to relax a little too, while still keeping an eye on the kids

.

that day, you all simply enjoyed being on the beach

making sandcastles, playing volleyball, swimming and collecting shells and rocks

mingi was out with his sleeveless again, no jacket covering his arms this time

you had a tough time if you were honest

and so did mina who couldn’t stop sighing at the sight of seonghwa’s long wet hair matted to his face

you could kind of relate to her, though your eyes only followed mingi

and perhaps, you were as obvious as mina now

because a certain menace came to stand next to you

“was just curious why you keep grinning into the distance. but nope. you’re just watching that fool. also, maybe wipe the drool off your mouth.”

you glared at wooyoung

“when you wipe yours. do you want to know what eunha thinks about you?”

suddenly, he’s ready to bow in front of you if necessary and you laughed

you’re both just two lovesick birds at this point and decided to calm yourself by making some sandcastles

“i never realised you got the hots for mingi too,” wooyoung said while trying to place a shell on the top of the lopsided castle. 

“what do you mean ‘too’?” you asked absently, more focused on making sure the whole thing wouldn’t collapse because of a shell

“he’s liked you for the longest time, y/n. you’ve just only noticed now.”

oh. 

that can’t be true, can it?

“are you sure?”

“i mean, he literally watches the stars with you every night. why else would he do that? and only with you? i like watching stars too, he knows. never offered me now, did he?”

you snorted at that

it did make sense

plus, with the events of last night… he must like you a little, right?

you decided to confirm it tonight

this time, you were the one who asked to watch the stars with him

after dinner when you made sure all the kids were in their rooms

the whole staff went to watch the stars, actually

you couldn’t miss it here- the full moon was the cherry on the top

however, you noticed how wooyoung and eunha found a spot away from the rest

mina also managed to get seonghwa to follow him- and perhaps, you thought, he really did like mina 

the rest were in their own bubble

and you grabbed mingi’s hand to lead him towards the big rock you had spotted earlier

where you could have a little privacy 

not that you aimed to do anything, no

you just wanted him all to yourself

was it selfish of you? yes. absolutely. but did you care? 

nope

did mingi care? he followed you willingly

this time, you were more touchy with each other

while you talked about how much you had missed the beach, his fingers trailed the curves of your hand absently

you brushed the sand off his cheekbone

and he scooted closer to you

“i don’t want to go back now,” you sighed happily

you really didn’t want to- it was too peaceful here

and you had never felt more content

“neither do i,” mingi said. “but at the same time… i do.”

“hmm… are you sick of watching the stars with me?”

mingi laughed at that

“i thought by now you knew that i never watched the stars.”

your heart did a few flips at his words and you glanced at him

he was right- he never really looked at the stars

he was always watching you

“would you like to see the stars when we go back?”

“every day, if i can?” he tucked your hair behind your ear as he said

“i really like you, y/n.”

.

god

it’s like you’re the high school student on a trip the way you’re feeling right now

you smiled, looking away and shyly responding

“i really like you too, mingi. i have, for a long time now.”

“how long?” the goofy mingi was back

“never answering that by the way,” you said, getting up and away from him. “you cannot extract that information out of me.”

“y/n!” he yelled your name in warning and you laughed as you tried to make a dash

but he was far too quick and he grabbed your wrist

you had to put your free hand over your mouth to keep your laugh from booming across the horizon

but you could not contain it when he pulled you in to his chest

you wasted no time wrapping your arms around his slim waist

and he curled in your hold, rocking you back and forth

“you’re too tall, by the way,” you said when you realised you were on your tiptoes and he was leaning down

he parted with a kiss on your cheek, pinching your nose afterwards

sending your brain into a spiral, turning you into mush

“you’re too cute.”

no.

you’re too insane because you want to kiss him right now

and you don’t know what took over you when you did just that- pecked his lips, surprising both of you

giggling when his eyes went a little wide 

your grin almost faded when he didn’t respond

but before you could say or do something, he crashed his lips on yours

kissing you deeply, once before drawing away and making sure that it was okay

oh, it was more than okay

but he decided to keep things calm, kissing you slowly and testing the waters

it was perfect in every way, more than what you ever dreamed about

you just never expected this

you and mingi on this beautiful beach, the full moon shining on you two, the waves almost washing your feet

all the four-leaf clovers you found were worth it, it seemed

now that you were sort of official

you spent the next two days with each other

without any hesitation this time

the others barely noticed the difference and you realised that it was because perhaps, the two of you had always looked at each other that way

(or maybe a certain kim hongjoong told them to shut up and let you two enjoy)

but either way, the others let you two tag together when you accompanied the students into town

you went to the local shops and this time, you bought things for your friends and family just like the students

you all had bbq before coming back to the lodges

and that night, you gifted mingi a silly pair of sunglasses

round sunglasses with wide white rims

and when he wore them, you burst into a fit of giggles

“you look like willy wonka from charlie and the chocolate factory”

“do i?” mingi asked, unlocking his phone to check

“mingi wonka. mingi wonka, the amazing history teach~”

you were pretty sure your laughter was heard by everyone on the beach as he chased you 

you decided to take refuge in the waves of the sea and started swimming away from him

but he was quick to follow

and once he caught you, wrapping his arms around your waist, you laughed shyly

“someone will see us!”

but when you turned in his arms

the moonlight illuminating his face but hiding his eyes due to the glasses he still had on

you tried taking them off his face but he grabbed your wrists

“yeah, keep them on,” you whispered. “they suit you.”

“i can’t tell if this is a joke or not,” he smiled a bit

“you just need a hat and a cane to go along with it-”

and before you knew it, mingi put his hand on top of your head and dunked you under the sea

you splashed water on him in revenge

and the two of you chased each other again until he finally caught you

and this time, you thought he really did look beautiful with the damp hair and the glasses

so you didn’t try to wriggle away from his grasp when he leaned in to kiss you

.

the last day, everyone decided to just laze around at the beach

the kids played in the water all day

and it was a bit cloudy so the heat was tolerable too

you wore a hat, resting your back against a rock

and whoever passed by would mess up your hat, annoying you

wooyoung decided to step in to guard you

but also for advice

“would it be too much if i cook and take eunha to a private spot for a little picnic?”

you shut the book you had been trying to read and turned your focus to wooyoung

“that sounds cute, actually. would she accompany you willingly?”

wooyoung smacked your arm and you snickered. “she gifted me my favourite perfume last night.”

“so?”

“how did she know?” wooyoung folded his arms. “i’ve never talked about which perfume i wear. no one knows, but she knew.”

this time, you let out a long ‘oh’ as you pondered

“you’re telling me she did her research?”

wooyoung nodded, very pleased

“do you know what her favourite food is?”

“that’s what i came to ask.”

you both did a little planning and wooyoung admitted that he had noticed a shift in your relationship with mingi too

you asked him if you were that obvious

and almost comically, you both looked towards seonghwa

“he’s hopeless,” wooyoung concluded

for some reason, mingi was very curious about what you two were talking about

(or maybe he just wanted you all to himself for the time being)

and he told you that intrusive thought that night

it was the last night of the trip and you would be leaving for home in the morning

so you told him that he better get used to the lack of proximity

because during school hours, it would be pretty packed especially now that exams were nearer

and after that, you both would have too much to work on

“will i be able to see you often then?”

“i mean…” you began. “what are we?”

mingi’s mouth formed an o shape as he realised

that you two hadn’t really talked about this

“shall i ask you out?”

“if i have to tell you that…” you scowled at him and he laughed

digging into his pocket to extract a small box

it was your mouth forming the o shape now

he opened the box to reveal a set of matching bracelets

a pretty little silver chain, very subtle, and just how you preferred

“will you go out with me?”

you made an impressed face, accepting the bracelet

“i didn’t know you were such a romantic”

“there are a lot of things you don’t know yet”

“i’m pretty sure i don’t need to know most of those things-”

mingi only laughed this time 

that night came to be a memorable one

as the trip concluded and you got back to your daily routine

you found that it no longer felt mechanical

you started off with a smile on your face

even mondays felt exciting 

because you could see mingi at school

you would eat lunch together everyday with the rest of the staff

but it was official now- you and mingi

and wooyoung and eunha

the latter was more unexpected, the staff revealed

and you were flustered to hear about how obvious the two of you had been

but it was okay

seonghwa finally noticed that mina acted differently only around him

and was left confused as he tried to figure out how he felt

hongjoong and yuqi were your new enemies

they made it their life’s mission to never let you couples have a peaceful moment

at least wooyoung could fight back

you and mingi were the type to let him bully you

and the students?

they thought they were being subtle when they tried to make the two of you cross each other at the same corridor

or when they casually told you things about each other, little updates

you caught on pretty quick but you let them be

though it was all fun and jokes

hongjoong told you a little secret later on

that mingi had specifically requested to come on this trip because of you

it was endearing

after school, mingi would walk you home every night

because that was the time you could catch up with each other in private

sometimes, you would stop by to have dinner or coffee

you met each other’s families and they instantly liked you

everything was perfect

everything was perfect, just like the waves had been on that beach 

calm, playful but strong

just like your love for each other

and every night before you went to sleep

(if you were not sleeping beside mingi)

you would look at the grid on your wall

at the pictures of you and mingi on the beach

and the picture of him in those silly glasses that suited him so well

and if you were sleeping beside mingi?

well

you could just look at the real thing :D 

[pirateprincessblog]

Idk how to explain it but he looks like he gives the softest hugs and he feels like home 🥹

[240323] FOR. ATINY | "My happiness" is Yunho. Yunho's happiness is TINY💕

[pirateprincessblog]

killer eyes pt2?? if u can!

i honestly can't wait to start it i surprised myself with the plot so you know it's gonna be wild

[pirateprincessblog]

i can’t tell you how many times i’ve read big dream and a brown scarf omg it’s one of my fav yunho fics would you ever think about making a part 2?? i’m just so obsessed like i need to know how that lunch date goes and what happens with the group

omg i wrote that sooo long ago i forgot about it :') i'm in my yunho era i wanna write so much about him and i have the plot for pt 2 written down somewhere but i didn't get the chance to write it yet :( no promises tho, i have to do that yunho smut from the poll and then pt 2 of killer eyes. thank you so much for your kind words i'm gonna cry <3333

[pirateprincessblog]

yunnie it is then!

[pirateprincessblog]

One thing all yunho stans have in common is the fact that they all have raging hand fetishes (looks in the mirror). It's not like 'aww his hands are gorgeous', it's more like 'his hands are gorgeous i wish they could choke me and fuck me till i go limp'. And his hands are the biggest fetish object for them i mean literally look at them and hes aware thats all i have to say

[pirateprincessblog]

please choke me with those on. 🎀✨💫💦

#yunho #jeong yunho #ateez #ateez jeong yunho #ateez yunho

[pirateprincessblog]

#ateez #ateez imagine #ateez smut #ateez imagines #kpop smut #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez x you

[pirateprincessblog]

THINGS ATEEZ SAY IN BED: YUNHO

↳ things ateez say during sex. yunho version.

↳ warning: smut, dirty/sexual language

• “look at you, baby. so perfect.”

• “god, you’re so small under me. how cute.”

• “mmh, you’re so wet. you’ve made a mess all over my hand.”

• “c’mon, you can take another finger, can’t you?”

• “gotta get this little pussy nice and stretched with my fingers before you can take my big cock.”

• “you want my cock so bad, huh? sorry, baby, i’m gonna need you to cum for me again before i give it to you.”

• “sshhh, sshh. take it slow, baby. yeah just like that. nice and slow.”

• “oh, it’ll fit. it always does. you always take me so fucking good.”

• “ah fuck! so damn tight.”

• “too deep? nonsense, baby. you can take it.”

• “you’re doing so well for me.”

• “ride my cock, baby. huh? you need my help? you always need my help when you ride me. my helpless little baby.”

• “right there? right there.”

• “you’re so beautiful, so perfect. you were made for me.”

• “god, i love you. fuck.”

• “baby i’ve barely put it in and you’re already whining. tsk.”

• “gonna cum around my cock, yeah? gonna make a mess all over it? good.”

• “keep going, baby. you’re doing so well. that’s it, let go. give it all to me, baby.”

• “you can take more.”

• “i know, baby. i know.”

ALL FICS ARE THE ORIGINAL IDEAS AND WRITTEN WORKS OF NATEEZFICS. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE. REPOSTING WITHOUT CONSENT FROM THE AUTHOR NATEEZFICS IS PROHIBITED!

[pirateprincessblog]

Every time I feel down or unmotivated I come here and read your reblogs and comments and I feel so much better and appreciated 🥹

Read For Me 》 P. Seonghwa

NEW! Read the ongoing full version on Wattpad!

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔:

One

Two

Three (new!)

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: books, fanfictions, TV shows and games took your excitement about real life away. nothing has your heart beating fast, everything is pretty much the same and dull to you. nobody could pull you out of your void of fantasy for a long time. still, your best friend decides to try one last time. she does succeed, but not in the way she meant. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: psh x reader 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.9k 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, best friend's father seonghwa 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nsfw scenes, unprotected sex 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: in my dilf atz phase.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

༻♡༺

Buried into your books and the void of the fantasy world, you had little to no excitement left in your body for the real life events. They lacked... something. Everything was awkward, miscalculated, weird and stiff. In books, the world was so fluid. Tension, passion, strong emotions like love and hate were on almost all pages. It filled your empty memories and fantasies just right. You now wished to drop out of college, buy a castle, run into a mysterious higher vampire and be the reason he exists as a good person now. Or maybe succeed in going through the wall and ending up on Platform 9¾, preferably face first into Cedric Diggory's chest.

Erotica isn't foreign to you either. They say the dirtiest ones are usually the virgins. And they weren't wrong. The amount of frustration trapped in you did you no good. You used to wonder how your male friends could do it so often, but once you got a taste of that side, you understood better than anyone. Countless nights of your fingers working on all your sensitive buds had you only wishing for more, even after release. It just wasn't enough. You hoped for a miracle every single time. You hoped that one of the men from your fantasies would appear in your room and satisfy you just how you wanted. Wouldn't it be just perfect if Henry Cavill appeared in the room? Preferably in his Witcher costume? If not him, then Lee Dong Wook would do equally good.

You drop your book on the bed. Your eyes skimmed over words, but you didn't pay attention to a single thing that was written. You decide to take a break from reading. Maybe you could even drink your first glass of water today. The sun was almost setting, yet you only had a bowl of cereal and half of a pizza slice. You glance at the clock. You despised it. It only reminded you of how fast time flies. You didn't even get to the steamy part of your fantasy, yet you already had to get dressed and wait for your friend in the driveway.

Your college best friend is back from her seasonal vacation in the Alps. Or was it Greece this time? It didn't even matter. It seemed like they only went to keep the tradition, not because they wanted to. She was probably richer than the whole college combined, yet she didn't know where to use all her fortune. So she settled for buying presents for her friends, which is why you now have a full wall covered with books and collectible figures and movie props.

Thirty minutes later, you are outside, your eyes searching for a black Mercedes with light up wheels and a suspicious looking driver. All three of their bodyguards were funny. They weren't as they described them in books. Her bodyguards were stiff, bland, and didn't say more than a greeting. You didn't exactly expect them to flirt with you any chance they get like you were used to on the pages, but the behaviour was still a disappointment for you.

Chills run up your spine as you watch the sun set. You regret picking out the outfit you are wearing. As if you weren't aware that the summer days are far behind. You wore the dress you got from her last trip to Paris. She had a great fashion sense and loved fashion in general, and to turn down her clothes meant a heartbreak for her.

"As soon as I saw it, I thought: her."

The way she described how she found it was amusing to you. It was knee-length and had long see-through sleeves. You felt the prettiest in it.

Finally, you heard the familiar engine. You didn't even have to look. The vehicle pulled up in front of you, and before the driver could get out, the door opened. A tall masculine figure stepped out of the car, and opened the door all the way for you. You feel chills run up your spine once again, this time not from the cold, but from the sight in front of you.

The man in front of you was absolutely stunning. He had the sparkliest and biggest eyes you had ever seen, broad shoulders, a confident smirk and-

"Dad, stop messing with her! She will think she is going to get kidnapped!" Your friend's voice yelled from inside the car.

You gulped, eyes still not leaving his face. In the three years of your friendship with her, you never saw her parents. Especially her father. Not even on photos. So, naturally, you'd need time to recover from this shock.

"Whenever you are ready."

The man politely bowed his head towards the seats, then stepped back so he could close the door after you. He sat in the front seat, then nodded towards the driver as a sign to turn on the engine.

The ride was peaceful, if you exclude your friend's nails clicking against the phone screen.

"I hear you like books." The words drip from his lips like honey.

You blush at simple eye contact through the rear mirror. His gaze has your fingers playing in your lap and your thighs pressed together.

He is so hot.

"I do, Mr Park."

"That's lovely. It's rare to find people in younger generations that enjoy reading. They mainly use it as a reason to bully someone."

"It truly is," you confirm, wanting to keep the conversation going. "You enjoy books too, Sir?"

Fathers of your other friends usually tell you to call them by their names. But not Park Seonghwa. He sure as fuck is not like other fathers you've met. You don't remember the last time your cheeks felt so hot because of someone.

"Of course. I have a whole library in my house. You are free to see it if you wish. My sweet social daughter will show you. Won't you, darling?"

His gaze switches to your friend, who is too invested in the ongoing conversation on her phone to pay attention to the one happening in real life.

"Sure, sure."

Park Seonghwa shook his head with a chuckle, then sat back in silence. You looked around you. The girl next to you was dressed beautifully as usual. It surprised you how she could make all those weird elements feel so ordinary and pretty. You, on the other hand, struggled to pair the jeans and a top. You barely figured out which shoes went with the dress. You felt underdressed. Her father wore a suit, and she had an elegant short blazer which matched her trousers, paired up with heels and a matching purse. You had a phone in your hand and a tote bag with your pajamas for the night. And a jacket to keep you warm. It didn't go with the outfit you had poorly put together at all. You wanted to run back home and wear something more fitting for the house you'll be staying in for a day or two.

You were in it once. You felt ridiculously small inside it. The ceilings were so high, dazzling chandeliers hanging from them. The windows were tall and in a minimalistic style. You only wondered how much time it took to clean them. They had all sorts of things you thought were unnecessary. Like a pool. The beach was just fifteen minutes away, the pool was there just to show off. So many bedrooms also had you confused. Since Spring, only two people live there now; your friend and her father. The mother filed for a divorce as she found love in a tourist from Poland. Poor Mr Park.

"Let's go," your friend finally put the phone away.

It took you a few moments to take in all the differences that were made. The portrait of a woman and a child above the fireplace was now gone and replaced with one of the man you just met and a young lady in which you found a sister 3 years ago.

"Anyone want my famous fig cheese prosciutto bites?" The man held a silver plate full of the said bites in front of the girls.

"No, dad, disgusting. Fruit and meat?"

"Growing up this spoiled one would think your taste in food would get better. Chicken nuggets don't really pass as an appetiser meal."

You watch with amusement as the two exchange a few funny grimaces, before your friend makes her way towards her room. "You eat some of that, since I know damn well you didn't eat shit today."

"I so did."

"You're so lying, bitch."

You laugh, ready to throw the word right back at her, when you feel Mr Park's gaze on you.

"Cuss her out all you want. It is none of my business."

"No, no. It's not quite appropriate for someone to talk like that."

In front of you, you add in your mind.

He hums, then smiles at you. "Bite?"

"I'd love to."

It takes only an eyebrow raise from him to let you know that you could've worded it better.

"I mean, I'd love one."

You take one from the plate, then admire it. Were you supposed to shove the whole thing in your mouth? Maybe pull it apart and eat it in rows? Bite into it?

"I don't usually try to poison my daughter's friends, doll. Just enjoy it. If we don't eat these tonight, they will go bad and I'll have to throw them away."

The little nickname slip had your toes wiggling in your shoes. He is so effortlessly breathtaking. Seeing that you're still struggling with the food, he takes one bite in his hand. He removes the toothpick holding the ingredients together, then steps towards you.

Every thought you had in your mind until then disappeared. Park Seonghwa gently cupped your lower jaw, and you relax into his touch. You look straight into his eyes as he puts the food between your lips. When you fail to move on your own, he smirks with amusement. Two fingers gently push the food into your mouth, resting on your tongue for a split second.

"Can you chew that for me?"

You feel your core throb. You feel fragile and weak under his touch. Most of all, you feel horny for your friend's dad. You remember to blink, then start chewing on the delicious food. He does not avert his eyes as you do so. Once you made sure to chew enough times, you finally swallow. A satisfied smile decorated his face as his thumb caressed your cheek, hand still cupping your jaw.

"Good girl."

You think you see stars. Park Seonghwa has an impact nobody ever had on you. And lots of them tried. Park Seonghwa didn't even need to try. He just - existed.

The man lets go of your face, then silently makes his way towards his room. At least you assume it is his room. He walked away so calmly, almost making you think you imagined what had just happened. Your face suddenly feels empty and cold without his touch. He had you in a chokehold with a simple touch and a smile.

You almost forget about your best friend waiting in her room. You hope your blushing won't betray you. After all, she must be tired of people wanting to fuck her dad.

Your conversations and jokes don't stop until after midnight. By now, you've had a stand-up show, a few episodes of your favorite TV show, a few funny clips of your favorite artists, and a fashion show. You are exhausted, almost ready for bed. Almost. You still need to get the frustration out somehow. The younger girl is more than ready for bed. The moment her head touched the pillow, she was out of this world. You laugh at her smeared makeup, then reach for the box of wet wipes. You gently clean her face, then try to do her usual routine. You don't remember it, but you try your best.

You make your way to her tall mirror, ready to clean your face too. If your best friend didn't study and work with fashion, she would surely be a makeup artist. It's a pity that you have to wipe down the art she created. Your hands fall down, and your eyes skim over your outfit and hair. She made you wear the brand new lingerie she got for her birthday as a joke. It was funny when they were in her hands, but you'll never forget the gasp that came out of her when you stepped out of the big wardrobe.

"Wanna scissor?"

You'd be up to try it, just not with her. Not while you have her dad on your mind. Perhaps- perhaps you could suddenly get thirsty and go to the kitchen dressed like that? The lingerie was now hidden under a short silver silk dress she wore for her ex boyfriend's birthday party. It looked plain and stupid, but the young girl had the power to turn it into something jaw dropping. Paired with silver heels and dazzling makeup, you looked ready for, well, someone to destroy it.

You open the door, then slowly step in the hallway. The girl explained that Mr Park's room is at the end of the hallway, but you cannot just walk in and expect something to happen. Maybe he simply liked teasing. Maybe he never responds to all those calls for pleasure. He is surely aware of what an impact he has on people, and maybe he finds it amusing. You still have a shot to see for yourself.

You drink a glass of water. Then another one. He isn't here. He must be asleep already. He is a hard working man after all. All this didn't come into his life easily. God, good looking and hard-working? He must be the whole package. Who in their right mind would leave a man like this? Perhaps she couldn't keep up with his sex drive. You hope.

You set the glass aside, and examine the kitchen again. Many drinks decorated the shelves, along with luxurious looking glasses and other glass decorations. You could only dream of having a home like this. You could probably afford a single spoon from the bottom drawer. You just couldn't wait to meet your soul mate and force your brilliant ideas on them. After all, you have a gift for that. Decorating, I mean. Not the forcing part.

You feel less sleepy now that you've drank so much water. You wander around the living room for a while, hoping he would come down at any moment. Yet it still doesn't happen. Your feet carry you to the door near the staircase. You slowly open it, then look around. With your luck, he will come down now that you are snooping around his home. He better stay asleep now.

You step inside, debating whether to turn on the lights. Fuck it, you think. Your hand finds the light switch on the cold wall. You squint at the sudden brightness. It takes a while for your eyes to get used to it, but when they do, all you can do is gasp.

The walls were covered with antique bookshelves, each filled with books from top to bottom. They were divided in sections, and they had the most beautiful covers and spines you've ever seen. You step inside, closing the door behind. The room was endless rows of fantasy, sci-fi, romance, poetry, educational books, and-

Erotica.

Fuck, lots of erotica. A whole wall, maybe even two, dedicated to the sinful delight. You didn't even need to check if you're right. You'd recognise some of those spines even in darkness. A single desk is placed in the middle of the room, along with a comfortable looking chair. Pens and notebooks are neatly placed in the top corner, and a book rests at the edge. A suit jacket, most probably Mr Park's, is placed over the backrest. The room was organised, clean, and smelled like sandalwood mixed with jasmine. It was pleasant enough to just stand there. Yet the curiosity got the best (or worst) of you, as it always did.

The smell of books takes over your senses. You feel the worn out spines and edges under your fingertips. He has them all: from the very first romance novels with the very first sex scenes to steamy books who had sex written all over them. You weren't sure which ones you liked more. You only knew that you'd settle for anything just to get a little taste.

Your gaze falls on the book which laid on the desk. His most recent read, perhaps? It still had a bookmark, you notice. You sit on the chair, and almost sink into it from the softness. You close your eyes, inhaling all the scents you can. You sense a hint of bourbon. Even his scent makes your lower stomach burn with unreleased sensation.

You take the book into your hands, then turn it over. The summary made your curiosity even worse, and you could forget about sleep for at least two more hours. You lean back, put your feet on the desk, and happily start with the book. It has a plot, of course, but currently? You couldn't give a single fuck about it. But you aren't one to skip pages just to get to a certain point in the story. So you force yourself to read through the little boring descriptions. In the corner of your eye, you spot a box of tissues peeking out of the bottom drawers. You see no other chairs around here. It means that nobody enters the room.

A man and a box of tissues mean only one thing.

You sigh at the picture that forms in your head. You see Mr Park sitting on the chair. He is wearing his suit vest, a book in his hand and legs spread comfortably. His other hand is wrapped around his cock, which you know is thick. Your eyes have dropped down there once or twice. He is lazily stroking himself, his attention still fully on the book. There is just something so fucking hot about watching a man satisfy himself.

You feel your throat go dry. You open your eyes, ready to put the book away and try to go to sleep. Yet the plot has just started to get steamy. You sit back once again, the book in your hand not getting any rest tonight. Your eyes skim over the hot descriptions, each making you more flustered. The thought of Park Seonghwa reading this is driving you crazy.

Nicholas has waited for this moment for months, yet it felt like years to him. He would use every second of it, and he will be the best she ever had.

He worshipped her all night long, explored her body with his tongue, whispered sweet nothings into her ear, and grabbed at anything he could. He devoured her, his wet muscle tirelessly working on her sensitive bud. Her cries of pleasure had him cumming in his own pants, yet he didn't care. He existed for her, and her only.

Was it too much to ask for a simple eating out? You wonder how it feels. You had one, a long time ago. Along with a messy first time. God, the second time might've been ever messier. None of it was enjoyable. You too wanted to be manhandled. You too wanted to be worshipped. You wanted someone to tirelessly eat you out until you cream. And scream.

You groan. Continuing will do you no good, but going to sleep is impossible. You could rub out a quick one and then try to rest. Wouldn't be your first time. You feel yourself dripping through your panties. All these descriptions have your head spinning. You reach for the box of tissues. The last thing you needed was to leave evidence that you snooped around. If you're going to leave one, it better not be an arousal stain on the chair.

You pull the drawer so you can take the box out easier. If your jaw could drop to the floor, it probably would. Deeper in the drawer laid a purple gadget. You knew very well what it was. You were never brave enough to get one for yourself. Your parents liked to snoop a lot, and just now you realise where you got it from. He didn't use it on anyone, did he? Your friend did not mention any women near Mr Park. Besides, it feels good for men too.

You carefully take out the wand. It looks brand new, the see through film still wrapped around the head. It could help you out. You'd be finished even quicker. Nobody will ever know. You cannot afford it anymore anyway, so wasting an opportunity like this seems like a shame to you.

You put each leg over the armrests, then lay back comfortably. You press a button. The buzzing sound has your stomach filled with excitement. You resume the reading, the wand dangerously close to your crotch. You didn't remove the film, nor will you remove the panties. If someone barges in, you can throw it in the drawer and act stupid.

You bring the buzzing device closer, and closer, until it finally touches your burning clit. A gasp leaves your lips, the first vibrations giving you the satisfaction you needed. You try to focus on the words, yet the toy feels so good against you that you choose to drop the book and enjoy. You throw your head back, sighs and hums leaving your mouth as you work the toy on your clit. Your mind is clouded with thoughts of a single man. He is so close, yet so far. The scent from his vest is helping you get a clearer picture. He is skillfully working his fingers on you, filling you up just right and licking your juices off his hand so sinfully.

You groan. The vibrations are strong against you, and you don't think you can take it. You are not used to it. Fingers will have to do. You blindly search for the button. When you fail to find it, you open your eyes.

"Fuck-"

The rest of the words come out muffled. A hand is placed over your lips, and another one is covering yours on the wand. You shamelessly stare into the eyes of the man you want to fuck so bad. Judging by his gaze, you think he shares the idea. Without a single word, he presses the toy back into your clit. You sigh into his hand, head falling back and your back arching. You try to close your eyes, but a slap to your inner thigh makes you jump.

"Look at me."

You do as you are told. He does not avert his gaze, not even when you beg him to stop. You are feeling overstimulated, even though you did not orgasm.

"Found yourself a book to read?" He asks, eyes falling on it.

You nod. Now you know why the scent was stronger in the room. How long was he there?

"Come here."

He removes his hand from your face. You are taken aback by his demands. It is turning you on even more. With a single swipe, he drops all the pens and notebooks from the desk on the floor.

"You like wearing cute little dresses and parading around the house?"

"I wasn't-"

"I didn't say I didn't enjoy it." He licks his lips. His hands cup your waist, and you feel your body rise up. He places you on the desk, then rests his hands on your knees. In the most erotic way ever, he looks deep into your eyes, then gently spreads your legs. You want to melt into his arms right there. Mr Park steps between your thighs, hands resting on your cheeks.

"You look so innocent. So pretty for me to ruin."

You say nothing. Instead, you get closer to him. You wish to feel his lips. You wish to feel his tongue in many places.

"But you are far from innocent, aren't you? Probably the biggest slut I've ever met."

"Sir-"

"I don't fuck my daughter's friends, you know."

He places a hand on your chest, gently pushing you to lay down on the desk. He climbs on it with one knee, hand still caressing your cheek.

"Didn't promise anything about best friends though."

His lips hover above yours for a while. He is making it painful for you. He is making you beg. And you are ready to go down on your knees for him.

"I want to fucking ruin you, doll. I want to do all the things you've read about." He whispers into your mouth. His tongue peeks out to lick his lips, accidentally touching yours too. "I want to pound into you as you read your favorite book and struggle to focus. I want to tear you apart right on this desk."

You moan at his words. You swear you could cum from his dirty talk only.

"Will you let me get a taste of you?"

You nod eagerly. He chuckles, then presses a gentle kiss on your forehead. He is looking into your eyes in a way that has you rubbing your thighs together so you can get some friction.

"I need to hear you, love."

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"I'll let you get a taste of me," you repeat. It didn't sound as hot as when he said it. It didn't matter anyway.

Time passed so slow. You had an orgasm to chase, yet Park Seonghwa wouldn't move a single finger.

"Will you let me smear that pretty makeup of yours?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Will you let me stuff you with my cock like a good girl?"

"Y-yes, Sir," you breathe out. The formality is only adding up to the mood. First names are outdone anyway.

"And will you do as I say?"

"Yes," you nod, "yes I will. Anything."

"Anything?" He asks, his eyebrow raised.

"Anything, Sir."

Just when you think he is going to press his lips against yours, he reaches for something behind you. He holds the book in front of you, signaling you to take it.

"Read for me."

Read? It's erotica, not a bedtime story. Yet how can you say no when he asked you so nicely. You clear your throat, then continue where you left off.

"Nicholas held her thighs down to keep her from squirming. His tongue lapped at her clit without stopping. She begged, and begged for - oh!"

The buzzing device is spreading sensation on your clit. You look over the book, and find Mr Park focusing on the space between your legs. He is lazily dragging the wand across your crotch, occasionally pressing into the sensitive bud.

"Keep going," he ordered.

"S-she begged, and begged for more. She had cummed twice on his tongue already. Yet he didn't have enough. He wanted to watch her shake in his arms, beg ‐ ah, ‐ beg for him to stop. Nicholas then inserts his fingers into her, the tips searching for the sweet spot which - f‐fuck - had her groaning with pleasure."

The speed is increased, and your thighs are shaking. You think you're close already.

"I don't think I can handle it much longer." You say.

"I didn't ask."

With that, he increases the speed, this time dragging the toy more forcefully on your crotch. You could spill over the edge at any moment. You want to orgasm with his fingers, not a stupid toy.

"The books isn't going to read itself."

"She held onto his hair for dear life. The pressure was building up at the bottom, and- ah, fuck ‐ and, and-"

"And?"

"I'm going to cum," you cry out.

"I don't remember that being in that scene yet."

"Please-"

"Read."

Your eyes fall back on the words. You just want to lay down and enjoy. Why does he enjoy teasing so much? It's not as fun as it looks or sounds.

"‐and she could feel herself cumming all over his face once again."

You lower the book, just enough so you can look at him. He is focused on his movements. His long, slender fingers are gently pressing your thigh against the wooden surface, while his other hand is working the toy on you. The vibrations change speed and strength, and that's what's keeping you from finishing right in front of him. His tongue wets his lips again, and his lips stay open. He lets out shallow breaths as he watches you clench around nothing.

"Look at you, shamelessly dripping on my work desk." He says, his voice low and raspy. He looks into your eyes, right before he lifts the toy.

He does not break eye contact with you. He climbs on the desk again, spreading your legs with his own and resting his hand on your exposed lower stomach. His hand is hot against your skin. You are ready to give yourself to him in any way.

"You like the book so far?"

"Yes, Sir."

He drags his hand up your stomach, lifting your dress along the way. He takes his sweet time, doing nothing but giving you goosebumps and making your breathing harder. The dress is now scrunched above your breasts, your friend's brand new lingerie completely exposed to his big pupils. It was an ugly colour, but somehow, Mr Park seemed astonished by the view.

"Ah, fuck."

You feel your bra being yanked down, and right after that a warm wet muscle circling over your tense nipples. A gasp leaves your mouth. Then another, and another, with each lick he generously gives you. He squeezes your breasts, massages them, works his tongue on them like it's the most delicious meal in the world. You swear you could orgasm just from this.

Mr Park allows himself to get a bit vocal. He hums around your nipples, gently sucking at them and squeezing the soft flesh around them. He enjoys your squirming under him. He enjoys your moans and gasps. He enjoys your fingers pulling his hair. Most of all, he enjoys how you lift your thighs up and try to meet his crotch, in hopes of getting more relief down there.

He lifts his head from your sensitive breasts, and gets closer to your face. His breathing is heavy against your mouth, and you can almost feel his heart thumping against your chest.

"Tell me, what is your favorite scene from the book?"

"What?" You ask, confused as to why he is insisting on reading and talking about the book.

"You heard me," he speaks into your mouth. He is so close, yet he doesn't dare touch your lips. It's making you extremely frustrating. You wanted to taste the lips that spoke sinful words. You want all of him.

"Well, I kinda liked the first time he fingered her."

"Did you now?" He acts interested. His eyebrow is raised with amusement because of your utter confusion.

"Yeah, I mean, it was hot as fuck. Him fingering her right there in the corner of the club? I swear I'd — oh."

His finger dips inside of you with ease. Your walls swallow it, clench around it, and feel warm against it. Mr Park is lets out a groan. Still, he continues, still looking into your eyes. "What exactly did he do?"

"He made out with her. And fingered her."

"That's all?"

His finger is not moving. It sits there comfortably, enjoying the warmth of your pussy. He licks his lips for the third time that night. He is fighting every urge inside him to just slam his cock into you and ruin you on the table. He wants to enjoy everything you want to give him.

"H-he—" your eyes roll back as he gently presses his finger upwards, "he uses one finger first, to get her used to it. He fingers her slow, and- and‐"

The man slowly pulls out, then equally slowly goes back in. He repeats the motion, and each time it seems slower to you. It is more intense, but you don't think you have the patience.

"He inserts another finger, to stretch her out. He speeds up a bit, and asks her- ah, fuck, asks her if it feels good."

Mr Park leans into your ear. "Does it feel good?"

"Oh, fuck yes."

You feel another finger stretching you our, then another. He watches as his fingers disappear between your tight walls, preparing you so well for him. He speeds up his pace. The sounds of his palm slamming against your pelvis along with your cunt making wet noises is making you arch your back from the table. You shamelessly moan into his mouth, hands grabbing at his shoulders, hair, face, anything.

You are pulled away from the world of ecstasy. You find yourself sitting up straight, your wrists caught in his hand. You are ready to whine about being so close, yet he stops you by pulling you off the desk. The dress falls down your body, covering it once again. The man pulls you off the table, and in a split second, he has you slammed against the bookshelves. You are ready to complain, but he stops you by slamming his palms against the shelves near your head. He looks at you, as if asking if you still want it. You respond by getting closer to him, testing the waters. He doesn't pull away. Instead, he captures your lips with his, hungrily sucking on them and biting them. His tongue is gentle against yours, giving it light strokes and circles. Your fingers find themselves tangled into his hair, then down his neck, shoulders, until they finally rest on his chest. He stops your hands from unbuttoning his snow white shirt. He pulls away too quickly for your liking.

You stare with surprise as he drops down on his knees. Fuck, you love the way he looks at you from down there. His fingers graze the skin of your thighs, then gently lift up the dress.

"Hold that for me." He orders in a whisper. You quickly obey, grabbing the material and holding it above your lower stomach. "Then what happened?"

"The guy took her outside, behind the club. He made her stand against the wall, much like me now. And then—"

You now realise what he is doing. He is recreating the scenes you have just read. He is fulfilling your fantasy. He is doing just what you always wanted, and he doesn't even know it. A sudden boost of confidence enters your body. You could drop a few lines that weren't in the book. He wouldn't notice now, would je?

"He ate her out."

"Did he?" He asks, voice dripping with horny thoughts said out loud. "And just how did he do that?"

"He licked every inch of her skin, explored every curve and bump, and sucked on a specific spot."

The man smirks, then pokes his tongue out. You finally get a chance to see exactly how long it is. He licks a warm stripe over your folds and clit. Your knees are wobbly, and you wish you could've stayed sat down. His hands are gripping you thighs, buttocks, and the back of your knees. He is fully focused into absolutely ravishing you.

He mercilessly licks your clit, each swipe making you more sensitive. He works it up and down, then in circles, then flattens the wet muscle so that he can take in all of you. He makes lewd noises, almost slurping at your arousal and folds.

"So heavenly," he groans. He hums as he speeds up his tongue against your clit.

Short moans leave your mouth, and you find yourself gripping your nipples over the shiny fabric. You pull and squeeze his hair between your finger, and you think you'll choke him with your thighs. He doesn't complain once.

"I'm close—" you whimper, white dots already appearing in front of your eyes.

It was as if you said "stop". He stands up, hand resting on your jaw. He lifts your head to look at him. His lips are glistening with your arousal, and you think it's the hottest thing ever. He dips his thumb and index finger into your cheeks, making you hollow them and open your mouth. He leans in, and just when you think he is about to kiss you, two fingers find themselves resting on your tongue. He proceeds to push them back, right at the end of your tongue. You tear up, but don't gag. He is very distracting with his stare.

You close your lips around his fingers, tongue circling around them and wetting them. He takes them out, puts them in his own mouth. He steps back for a bit, and you carefully follow his every movement. He rips the fabric of his shirt, and buttons drop down on the floor. The sight has you dripping down your legs. You don't get a chance to say much, he pushes you against the desk, this time with you facing the surface. You feel the wet digits spread your folds. You then feel a wet trail rolling down your pussy.

Did he—? Did he spit directly on your pussy?

You hear the belt unbuckling, then fabric shuffling. Something hot touches your other cheeks, gently caressing them and leaving a trail of precum. His hand reaches near you, taking the book and opening it where you marked it. It then cups your neck, gently pressing the sides of it just enough to make you dizzy.

"Read for me, doll."

"But-"

He leans down, feeling a bit annoyed at all your protests. "Read for me so I can stuff you with my cock in peace."

You have no other choice but to continue. You feel him circling your folds, but not touching you where you need it.

"Nicholas couldn't believe how long it had been since he last felt her. He pounded into her like there was no tomorrow. His hips forcefully connected with hers— ah!"

You feel him stretch you out. The sweet burning sensation is back, this time actually pleasant. He fills you to the end, hands tightly holding onto your waist and neck. He pulls out, just to slam back into you, much like Nicholas.

"He watched her tits bounce with every hip thrust he m-made, a sight for sore eyes. He fondled her nipples, listened to her moans and watched her face twist wit-th pleasure—"

His hands move your body towards him, making him reach spots that have you gripping the edge of the desk.

"Please let me enjoy this, Mr Park. Oh please, let me."

He pulls your hair, making your back arch and your head fall back. He looks at you from above, hips still working their pace.

"You're saying you're not", thrust, "enjoying this?"

"No, I just—"

"I spoiled you," thrust, "in such a," thrust, "short," thrust, "time."

He proceeds to thrust a few times faster, then slows down. He fucks you nice and gentle, occasionally letting out a grunt or a hiss. He goes deep, making you roll your eyes.

"Look at me," he pulls your hair more.

You whimper, the pleasant pain spreading over your body.

"Look at your pretty makeup running down your cheeks."

He wasn't lying when he said he is going to ruin you. He turns your body over with ease, and you wonder just how strong this man is. Mr Park lifts your legs on his shoulders, the position giving him more access to all the sweet spots. He slams into them with no mercy, abuses every weak spot you have, and fills your mouth with his fingers to keep you quiet. They don't help much, since you are equally loud even when he tries to make you gag.

"Want me to fill you up like a stuffed toy?"

"Please," you manage to beg.

Your eyes roll back from pleasure, and you are feeling like you're floating. You are so close, and if he cums inside you, you will cum right then. Mr Park is now moaning. His hands are gripping your waist, slamming your weaker body into his hips. Sweat is decorating his exposed body, and his hair is sticking up everywhere. Watching him focus on chasing his high is something you'll always remember with love. He is progressively getting sloppier and louder, and you just can't wait to see him cum.

You are squeezing and milking him so well, he could go all night long with you. He lets out a prolonged moan as he spills into you, hips still working in and out. You follow after, the feeling of warm seed touching the right places.

"Fuck—" you moan, moving your hips and riding out your high.

The man drops on top of you, cock still deep inside.

You notice the windows are foggy, and the smell of sex is more than present in the room. You don't want to move. You want more. It just isn't enough.

"Ah fuck, I could go for a second round." He admits.

"I can handle it."

"But I can't so please go to sleep or go fuck outside."

Shit.

[pirateprincessblog]

[pirateprincessblog]

Not me reading this absolute filth while a mechanic is in the room with me I’m red as a tomato 😩 I love love love mean Yunnie now brb I’m gonna go watch some of those clips where he is pissed/cocky to fuel my delusion

Antiserum D

Antiserum D

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

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

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

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

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

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

Word Count: 12,164

 'My dog died.'

No, you don't have a pet!

'My bus was late.'

You live on-campus.

'The coffee shop was crowded.'

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

'Umm, I overslept.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bastard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Determination of blood groups.'

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

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

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

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

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

He's playing you again.

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

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

"Sterilisation." you mutter under your breath.

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

"Sterilisation of the subject area."

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

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

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

"And why is that?"

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

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

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

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

"Right—okay, so..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hold up!

Where in the world did that come from?

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

You and him?

That's a little...

Far-fetched.

Unless...

There was...

There was a way to vex him.

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

There goes nothing.

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

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

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

"Maybe you can justify your actions then."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least that's what you thought.

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

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

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

Why?

Lock the doors?

Why lock the doors?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Miss Lee?"

Silence.

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

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

"Why do you hate me?"

A beat of serenity yanks his attention.

"What do you mean, Miss Lee?"

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

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

"Sherri?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Come here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No." you mumble.

"No?"

You shake your head.

He doesn't believe you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What was he going to do?

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

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

"Professor..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Get up."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod and thus begins the punishment.

Slap!

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

Slap!

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

Slap!

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

This one stung like a bitch.

Slap!

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

Slap!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Clean me up, pup."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Knock knock!

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

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

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

Professor Song.

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

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

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

"Discussing what?"

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

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

You nod, "ye—yes professor."

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

"Lie to someone else, Yun."

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

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

[pirateprincessblog]

fueling my mafiateez inspo and he doesn't even know it.

HJ 🌠 [240412] Instagram Update #Hong_stagram "Today is the day, Coachella✨"

[pirateprincessblog]

the handpiece. the. hand. piece.

everyone say thank you yunho fansites!

[pirateprincessblog]

i don’t think there’s a word in the english vocabulary strong enough to describe how bad i need him.

[pirateprincessblog]

Coming to my daily dose of delusion after seeing all coachella vids 🫠

Ateez soft hours: jeong yunho

Pairing: ateez x reader

Genre: soft hours with jeong yunho <3

Word Count: 282 words

a/n: Aurorise will be updated this weekend! :) <3

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Jeong Yunho is in love with you. And he very much adores spending time with you.

There’s a childlike innocence between the two of you that brings safety and comfort amidst the reality of being adults. 

Yunho loves to keep you close. 

Whether it’s walking together hand in hand and affectionately swinging your intertwined arms, or you’re walking in front of him and leading the way, turning back around to talk to him with a glowing smile while he directs you where to move with a doting grin and occasionally putting his arm out to bring you closer to him and not bump into anyone, Yunho savours every moment. 

The two of you would usually find yourself either getting lost in the deepest and thought-provoking conversations about the most intricate things about human existence or sometimes, it may be about the silliest things. 

When you decide to grab dinner together, he’ll pull you close to him when the sun begins to set and the coolness of the late evening begins to transfer into night.

And sometimes, if it’s been a gloomy day with a slight drizzle, once it’s not too bad, you’ll take a drive to collect dinner and come back to share a heartwarming meal with a funny show playing in the background, and it’s just the two of you sitting on the floor in front of the television, lost in your own world.

And truly, that’s what it has always been: just the two of you in your own silly little world which feels like a dream come true.

And it’s your dream come true.

Because Jeong Yunho is in love with you, and it’s your own heaven on earth.

[pirateprincessblog]

…

240413 COACHELLA | MINGI (cr. imyunhoo)