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hyunniesgirl · 5 months

Text

I wanna be yours

Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader

Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.

Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.

Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.

Genres: angst, smut, fluff

Words count: 10,991

Masterlist

This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!

Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)

A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.

It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.

Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.

That means he's bored all the time.

So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.

That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.

“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”

The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.

Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.

There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.

As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.

“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.

He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.

“It's okay”, you mumble.

You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.

“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.

You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.

“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.

“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?

This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.

“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”

“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.

You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.

“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.

You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.

—

You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.

You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.

You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.

Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.

Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.

You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.

You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.

“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.

You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.

“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”

“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”

“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.

“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”

No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.

What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.

“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.

You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.

“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.

“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.

“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.

“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"

Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.

“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.

His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?

You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.

He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.

“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.

This was easier than he thought.

—

“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.

“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.

“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.

“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”

Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.

“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.

“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”

You grin.

“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”

Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.

He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.

You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.

“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”

You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.

The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.

“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.

“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.

“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.

“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.

You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.

“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.

“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”

“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.

“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”

“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”

You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.

“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.

Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.

“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.

“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”

Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.

“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.

He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.

After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.

You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.

“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.

He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.

“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?

Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.

“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.

He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.

“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?

He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.

“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.

“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?

“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.

“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.

“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.

Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.

“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.

“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.

“Yeah, got it, just hurry”

Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.

When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.

You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.

“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.

You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.

He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.

—

Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.

Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.

This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.

He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.

“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.

“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.

You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.

After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.

The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.

You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.

You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.

“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.

“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.

“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.

“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.

“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?

The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.

His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.

“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”

“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.

“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.

“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.

“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.

“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?

He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.

He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.

“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.

You feel your face red.

“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”

He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.

He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.

“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?

You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.

You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.

Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.

“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.

“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.

Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.

“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.

“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.

“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”

Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.

“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.

Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.

Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.

“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.

You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.

Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.

“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.

“I don't wanna”, you tell him.

“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.

“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.

“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.

You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.

“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.

“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.

“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.

“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”

“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.

The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.

“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”

“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.

“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”

You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.

“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.

“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.

“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.

“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.

“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.

“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.

“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”

“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.

“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.

“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.

He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.

Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.

“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.

“Like what?” You ask, curiously.

“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”

—

Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.

It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.

Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.

“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.

“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.

When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.

“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.

“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.

You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.

“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.

Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.

“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.

“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.

He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.

In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.

She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.

“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”

“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”

He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.

“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.

You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.

“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.

There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?

After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.

He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.

He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.

He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.

He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.

He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?

“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.

“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.

It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?

You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.

He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.

“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.

“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”

Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.

“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”

Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.

“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”

You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.

Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.

He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.

“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.

“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.

His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.

He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.

“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.

“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”

“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.

“Fuck”, you whine.

His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.

“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.

Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.

Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.

“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.

He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.

You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.

“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.

“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.

You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.

“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?

“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”

He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.

“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.

Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.

“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”

You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.

“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.

“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.

He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.

It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.

Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.

You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.

When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.

“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.

“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”

For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.

You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.

You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.

The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.

Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.

He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.

“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.

“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”

“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”

“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.

“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”

He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.

“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.

—

“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.

“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.

“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.

You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.

“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”

He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.

Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.

After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.

The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.

You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.

“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.

“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?

“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”

“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.

“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?

“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.

“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.

“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.

You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?

You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.

The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.

You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.

“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.

“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.

You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.

You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.

“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.

You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.

“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?

“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.

“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.

“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.

It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?

You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.

“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.

“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.

It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.

It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.

After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.

Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.

“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.

You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.

“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.

“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.

“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.

“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.

“I don't want to hear it”, you say.

“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.

“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”

Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.

You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.

Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.

He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.

He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.

“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”

“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”

His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.

So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.

“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.

“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”

She huffs, crossing her arms.

“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”

“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”

Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.

“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’

“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”

“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”

“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”

Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.

“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.

“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”

Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.

Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.

He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.

Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.

“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.

“Can you come down for a bit?”

You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.

You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.

You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.

You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.

“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.

“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.

“I'm not well either”, he says.

You sigh.

“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.

“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.

“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?

—

You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.

Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.

He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.

You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.

He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.

“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.

Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.

“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”

“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.

“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.

“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.

“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.

“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.

“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”

You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.

“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.

“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.

“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”

You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.

Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.

You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.

The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.

When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.

You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.

“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”

He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.

“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.

“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”

You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.

“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.

“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.

“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.

He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.

“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”

You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.

“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.

“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.

“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.

“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.

You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.

“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.

Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.

“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.

“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.

You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.

A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.

4K notes · View notes

luvt0kki · 1 month

Text

training wheels | k.h.j

pairing : Professor!Hongjoong x innocent!reader ft!Wooyoung

♡₊˚( wrote this listening to ‘training wheels’ by Melanie Martinez)

summary: Too innocent for your own good, your professor's little hidden crush only grows the more he could spend time with you. You were so pure before his eyes. A sweet young woman who deserves the sweetest kind of love but still had trouble in paradise with her boyfriend…but he’ll be there for you. After all, he only wants what’s best for you and to protect you.

wc: 10.7k

cw: University AU, smut, coquette-ish fem!innocent reader, virgin reader, slightly older Hongjoong, manipulation, obsessive stalker-ish behavior, yandere behavior, corruption kink, cheating , frat boy behavior from Maknae line, oral!male receiving, there'll be more spice in the next part

REMINDER : my works do not represent the irl members in any way, this is purely a work of FICTION.

a/n: hello so it’s been awhile and this has been cooling in my drafts for so long. Special thanks to @songmingisthighs for helping me whenever I’m stuck with writing and for being one of my favourite persons on this app 😭i wanted to write something that isn’t apart of the Sway With Me universe just for a change and a breather ( I hope you guys don’t mind that). I just wanted to write.

- this is will be a two part series!

READ CONTENT WARNING BEFORE READING!

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE, OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF MY WORK HERE. I DO NOT NOR WILL ALLOW IT.

Note: Hongjoong is a couple years older but he’s still young for a professor. Maknae Line is in their last year of Uni and is part of the University’s Varsity baseball team.Y /N is innocent ( smh). Kinda coquettish vibes but yuh, sweet girl.

The rain storming outside made anxiety bubble in your chest as you clutched your laptop bag and books tight. You glanced at your phone, the bright red bar of the little battery icon glaring at you. That just made your situation even worse and it didn’t help that the last message you saw was the reason you were stranded here in the first place.

“I’m so sorry sweetheart. The team meeting is going overtime tonight. Get home safe. Please message me when you’re home.”

You waited for him. You should be angry at him but instead, you were only heartbroken and sad that he didn’t keep his word. You were frustrated that you couldn’t even hate him the slightest bit for forgetting to pick you up and the sudden downpour was just the cherry on top.

“Ms. L/N, is that you?”

That voice. That familiar tone that you heard every Monday and Wednesday from 8 am til 10 am. The voice that made your Art Appreciation lecture so interesting that you’re excited to come early every morning to learn sounded from behind you.

You turned around and quickly bowed your head in his direction out of respect.

“Mr.Kim.”

The young professor frowned at your presence.

“It is you. What are you still doing here?” He asked, extending his arm a bit to glance at his silver watch. “It’s almost 11 pm.”

“I-It started raining…” was all you could say. You couldn’t nor want to admit to your university professor the real reason why you were stranded on campus.

“Indeed…,” he gently grasped your arm and pulled you into the covered shade of the hall. “Do you need a ride home, Ms. L/N? I was just about to leave and go home but I can drop you off at the nearest bus stop or if you’d like, your home.”

His offer made your heart melt. Mr. Kim Hongjoong has always been so kind and sweet to his students. He has always shown such care and patience to their studies and well-being, and as the many girls in your classroom would whisper amongst each other, he was also very handsome. Which was a fact everyone in the whole campus knew.

“I don’t want to be of a hassle to you, Sir. I can wait for the rain to stop.” You tried to kindly turn down his offer, not wanting to bother him but also you felt it was inappropriate for a student to be in any proximity to a professor alone.

“Ms. L/N, it’s late and the rain doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon. I assure you it is not a bother to take you home. I’ll be worried if I just left you here.”

He was right. Both about the rain and the time, and you’re never out this late. Well at least not alone and it made you antsy. Mr. Kim looked at you with so much care in dark brown eyes that it felt impossible to say no to his kind offer.

“O-okay.”

And that’s how you found yourself in the passenger seat of your professor's fancy car.

You looked around subtly observing the luxurious interior of the vehicle. It smelled like new leather and Mr. Kim’s cologne. Your phone buzzed breaking your little observation as Mr. Kim typed in the location of your apartment into his phone GPS.

“Baby? Are you home? Please let me know.” The text message notification shone brightly.

You let out a little sigh.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but notice your rather wilted demeanor. He looked over you in the corner of his eye as he started the car. Little did you know, he was admiring your look today. You didn’t have class with him on Fridays so seeing today was rather…refreshing. Baby pink always looked so pretty on you, he thought to himself. Your blouse almost had a ballet-like aesthetic to it, it wrapped around your torso so elegantly and gently accentuated your curves. It was matched with a very pretty flowy white skirt that wasn’t too short nor too long, and there was a thin pink ribbon in your hair, the finishing touch to your very sweet ensemble. You always dressed so cute.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He asked his voice so calm and gentle that it calmed your silent frustration.

“Not really…” you muttered your gaze down at the hem of your skirt, your books, and your laptop sleeve on your lap.

The defeated expression you wore made the older man’s heartache for you. He didn’t like to see you like this. You were like a ray of gentle sunshine whenever you entered his classroom, a doe in a beautiful blooming field of flowers that radiated warmth that made anyone and everyone around you comfortable and calm. It was odd to see you like this.

“If you want to talk about it I’m all ears,” he offered with a smile, reaching behind the head of your passenger seat and glancing behind as he reversed up his car from the parking lot.

Your heart raced at the gesture. You didn’t know what about it was making you feel all flustered and small. His kind words and warm tone made it hard to keep your emotions in. Maybe you can just tell him…a little bit.

“I waited for my boyfriend to pick me up…but he didn’t come.” You murmured, heart aching as you said those words.

Hongjoong’s heart dropped, and he raised a brow at what you just said. Your boyfriend didn’t show up?

“I know I shouldn’t be so upset…it’s just he promised. I understand he has obligations to his team…I just feel like he forgot about me.”

Your sweet voice was so small. Hongjoong wanted nothing more than to soothe you and reassure you. Underneath all of that, he was bubbling with irritation. He kept a softened and caring expression on his face as he listened to you, gripping the stirring wheel to hide his annoyance.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” he said so sympathetically. “You’re such a sweet girl to be so understanding of your boyfriend. If I remember correctly your boyfriend is…”

“Wooyoung.” You whispered his name, your lips between your teeth as you tried to hold back your disappointed tears and hurt.

Hongjoong’s jaw tightened.

Right.

Jung Wooyoung.

“Ah…yes. The university’s baseball star.” He was also a student in one of his classes. A heartthrob along with his best friend and Baseball Vice Captain, Choi San.

“I’ll feel better when I get home and sleep it off.” You didn’t want to talk about him forgetting to pick you up any longer.

“If you don’t mind me asking, Ms. L/N, how long have you been together?” He asked, hoping his question was not so out of the blue as he continued to drive.

“Almost three months now, Mr. Kim.” You replied, the idea of being with Wooyoung for so long making you a little happy despite tonight’s disappointment.

Lucky bastard. “Oh, that’s very recent.”

“I know…but he’s very sweet to me. He takes care of me and he really makes me happy.” You listed the good things that always made your heart flutter. Your sweet loving boyfriend who had pursued you and never pushed for anything you weren’t ready for. If you were to describe your relationship with Wooyoung, it was like the love you see in the movies.

“That’s good to hear. You’re one of my sweetest students and I’d be worried if you weren’t happy,” Hongjoong smiled, earning the reaction he wanted and expected from someone as innocent as you.

Your pretty eyes widened at his words and you looked even shyer. He wondered if that’s why your boyfriend was attracted to you.

You didn’t know what to say but there was a small smile on your face when he called you one of his sweetest students.

“Thank you, sir.”

Sir.

Hongjoong’s night was getting better than he could ever imagine. First, the surprise of seeing you still on campus alone as he left, then you accepting his offer to drive you home, and now, Sir? For a long time, he loved how that name slipped from your pretty glossed lips.

“I’m sure your boyfriend feels really guilty about not having shown up. Sometimes these things happen.” Hongjoong tried to reassure you, not really wanting to defend the University senior you were seeing but he needed to say what you wanted or needed to hear.

You take his words as it is. He was older than you so he knew about these things more than you. He was wiser. He was right, these things do happen. Wooyoung did apologize too. So maybe it’s not as bad as you were making it out to be.

Hongjoong noticed how you sat up a little, no longer sulking so cutely in the passenger seat. He smirked a little to himself, his eyes on the road. Did you trust his words that much? Was that how much power he had over you?

You were too innocent it concerned him.

You were truly a doe in a field of flowers. So pretty and so completely oblivious to the wolves hiding in the tall grass. He was sure your boyfriend was one of them and that he too had a deep dark desire for your innocence.

“Is this your place?” He pulled up outside an apartment complex, people passing by in the street as he looked up at the building observing it.

“Yes, it is!” You chirped, happy that you were able to get home safely and it was all thanks to your kind and sweet professor. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kim. I really appreciate it. I really cannot thank you enough…and talking to you made me feel better. I’m really lucky that you were here tonight.”

Hongjoong smiled, holding back from reaching over to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. He didn’t want to scare you away.

“If you ever find yourself in any kind of trouble, Ms. L/N, you can come to me okay? Here,” he reached into his pocket, getting his card but writing down his personal phone number in the back of it before holding it your way.

Like he expected you didn’t think much of it, what a sweet girl.

“Mr. Kim you’re so kind.” You took the pretty name card with his phone number in the back. “I don’t get into trouble but I appreciate this. Thank you.”

“Let me help you get inside, okay?” He got out of his car with an umbrella, going over to your side to open the passenger seat door and to hold the umbrella over you and him so that he could escort you to your apartment lobby.

You stepped out of the car and blushed when you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders to gently guide you to the sidewalk and your apartment lobby. He made sure you were dry and safe and also took note of how an access card is needed to get in. He was glad you lived somewhere so safe.

You thanked him again, unable to look him in the eyes because the warm smile on his face was making your heart flutter.

“Now I can go home without worrying if you got back safe,” he lightheartedly teased, making you giggle. He was such a kind person. “Take care of yourself, Ms. L/N. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Enjoy your weekend, Sir.” You bowed your head respectfully, appreciating how handsome he was in his coat and suit. It made him look like a character from the dramas you see on television.

Monday rolled around quicker than you thought while Hongjoong found the weekend went by agonizingly slow. As he set up his laptop in the lecture hall as other students filed in, he couldn’t help but anticipate your arrival. He kindly smiled and greeted the students who had the energy to wish him a good morning, he even kept glancing at your seat that was still empty.

Were you not well? Did you catch a cold over the weekend from the rain on Friday night?

“You really didn’t have to walk me, Woo.”

Your gentle soft voice made the professor perk up and his heart race a little. Subtly, he glanced at the door, more students entering but behind them in the hall was you.

“Hey, I still feel guilty about not having picked you up on Friday. I’m gonna make it up to you.” Wooyoung placed his hand on your waist, feeling the soft fabric of your skirt. “You’re too nice if you’re just gonna let me off the hook. I’m gonna be extra attentive, okay baby?”

Hongjoong narrowed his eyes at the young dark-haired boy, his varsity jacket telling everyone that passed who he was and the status he had in the university. He zeroed in on the hand on your waist, Wooyoung’s thumb caressing you gently and his fingers even playing with the cute ribbons on your skirt.

“O-okay,” you blushed, trying to fight back the giddy smile that was forming on your face.

Wooyoung grinned at your response and glanced left and right before pulling you closer til you were pressed against him. Your wide eyes looked up at him in surprise and you got your body tingling when both his hands rested on your waist.

Your fluster only made your handsome boyfriend grin even more with that twinkle in his eyes that always made you feel special.

“You have a nice day, okay?” He whispered and before you could respond, without a care in the world and with no shame if any other student passing would see, he leaned down and kissed your glossed lips.

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. This was different from the soft pecks and quick kisses he’d give, these were the kisses you liked from him. The deep ones that made your head feel all hazy. The one that made heat pool in your lower belly.

Wooyoung pulled back and pressed another kiss on your forehead. “I’ll see you for lunch.”

“O-okay.” You murmured, feeling everyone’s curious eyes on both of you and wanting to remain hidden by Wooyoung’s form.

Wooyoung smiled and then licked his lips. “Oh? Strawberry?”

The mention of your flavored lip gloss made you look up at him, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“You’re gonna have me craving you all morning, baby.” He dramatically placed a hand over his chest. “How will I ever survive? One more.” He tried to go for another kiss and you squealed as he pulled you back.

“Woo, I have class!”

“But strawberry!” He pouted as he kept you in his embrace, some students rolling their eyes at the two of you and some finding the two of you cute and amusing. Wooyoung’s teammates from down the hall caught wind of the two of you and hooted.

“Sorry to interrupt but I’ll be starting my lecture soon.”

The voice of Mr. Kim made your eyes widen as embarrassment made you want to hide from his gaze.

“Oh, Mr. Kim,” Wooyoung spoke his professor's name with no shame of getting caught being affectionate with his girlfriend. “Morning!”

Hongjoong could only manage a nod to his greeting before turning to you, still in your boyfriend’s hold and unable to look him in the eyes.

“Ms. L/N, class starts in five minutes.” He spoke sternly, his tone making your lips form a small pout.

The way you reacted to him made the older man before you swoon. God, you were too cute.

“Yes, sir.”

There it was again. The way you said ‘sir’ all defeated and cute.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” Wooyoung apologized. “My bad.” He removed his varsity jacket and draped it over your shoulders before kissing your cheek. “I’ll see you at lunch, baby.”

Then Wooyoung sauntered away with a swing in his step and his bag over one shoulder, on his way to his respective class.

“Sorry, Mr. Kim.” You murmured, keeping your gaze down and hugging your books to your chest as you went inside the room along with the last few students who arrived.

Hongjoong watched as you made your way to your seat. Your pretty skirt swayed with each step and he wondered if skirts made up most of your wardrobe. It must be such a delight for your boyfriend.

Loosening the grip he had on his pen as he watched the whole interaction between you and Wooyoung, he smiled at his students. What mattered the most to him was you were safe. You were here and you were safe and well. Never mind the fact that you and your boyfriend easily made up from Friday night’s incident.

You were here.

The lecture was an enjoyable one not only for the students but him as well. As he discussed the significance of art during the Roman Empire, his students were all hooked in with his explanations and discussions, and even he got carried away excitedly with every question and topic.

“Mr. Kim is so hot.” A classmate beside you, Jennie, whispered to her friend, the two of them giggling as your professor shared his knowledge with the class.

“And he’s so nice too. You think he’s a virgin?” Minsol whispered back and you felt your heart grow hot listening to them.

You fidgeted in your seat and tried to block them out, focusing on Professor Kim.

“He’s so young to be a professor. Maybe he spent all that time studying to the max, you know! Maybe he is!”

“He’s so cute.” Minsol chuckled. “But then he’s so sexy when he pushes his hair back.”

And almost as if on cue, Mr. Kim ran his fingers through his dark brown locks, pushing them back as he smiled at his students in awe at the discussion.

He was handsome. You admitted that a long time ago. Attractive? Yes. But he was your professor. It was wrong to think of him the way Jennie and Minsol were.

Til now, their voices couldn’t be blocked out completely.

“I’d gladly blow him for a good grade,” Jennie whispered, her eyes looking Hongjoong up and down.

“Jennie!” Minsol playfully smacked her friend, her voice still hushed.

“What? Just think of it. Goody two shoes Mr.Kim so kind and worried that your grades are slipping, and then you tell him you’d do anything to raise your grade.” Jennie described the scenario so vividly. “No one needs to know what goes on behind closed doors.”

Your heart was racing in your chest as you listened to the fantasy. It didn’t help that Mr. Kim was right there before your eyes as Jennie’s voice whispered discreetly to her friend such a scandalous scenario.

“But it won’t stop there.”

That piqued your interest and you felt ashamed to have been so curious.

“He has a nice car too. Imagine fucking in the backseat of that luxury car way past campus hours in secret.”

Your heart thumped strongly at the mention of his car. You had been in his car and the dirty thought of Mr. Kim being all over your body and kissing you in the spacious backseat crossed your mind.

You couldn’t help but rub your thighs together.

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned all his students, happy that they were enjoying the class but paused when he saw you. Your body was swallowed by your boyfriend’s big varsity jacket and you looked flustered, even biting your glossed lips, fidgeting in your seat.

Then he saw the two girls next to you giggling and gossiping. What were they talking about that was making you blush so much? Briefly, your eyes moved from your notebook and locked with his but you immediately looked down when you saw that he had been looking your way.

Hongjoong could only assume they were talking about him. In what way? He wasn’t sure but it was a way that was making you look even shyer and could he dare say, hot and bothered?

Then the bell rang.

“Alright, we’ll continue the discussion on Wednesday and I’ll hand you all your Renaissance art period essays that I already graded then. Have a nice day.” Hongjoong’s elegant and calm voice echoed in the lecture hall, as he made his way behind his desk, sitting out the papers.

A chorus of thanks was sent his way as the students little by little exited the lecture hall. He looked your way, watching as you packed your things and gathered your books.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jennie turned to you. “How are you and your stud of a boyfriend?”

“Oh, m-me and Woo?” Your lashes fluttered so prettily as Hongjoong pretended he couldn’t hear you and the girls.

“Yeah! We saw you two being all cute and kissy out in the hall.” Minsol chuckled as she touched up her makeup with powder.

“We’re great.” You couldn’t stop the happy smile on your face as you thought of your boyfriend.

“He’s your first boyfriend, right? Have you two…you know….”

Your brows furrowed. “Have we what?”

Hongjoong fought his sigh at how oblivious you were.

Minsol’s eyes widened as she snapped her compact closed and leaned over. “You guys haven’t?”

“What are you two talking about?” You tilted your head like a puppy.

The two girls exchanged looks of shock.

“Y/N…” Jennie leaned closer, lowering her voice even further but Hongjoong’s ears were sharp. “Are you a virgin?”

Immediately, your face was burning as you hugged your books to your chest, wanting to cover your face with Wooyoung’s jacket.

“Holy shit!” Minsol exclaimed then realized she had been loud. She looked towards the whiteboard and saw Mr. Kim looking at the three of you questioningly. “Uh…sorry Mr. Kim!”

Hongjoong only smiled and he shook his head, returning to his papers and was glad that he was sitting behind his desk as the idea of you never being touched morphed from shock and into desire. He kind of guessed you were…but dating the star athlete and heartthrob of the campus made him second guess that you were.

“Girl, you need to come with us!” Jennie hooked her arm with yours and Minsol on the other as the two of you made your way out of the lecture hall.

“Bye, Mr. Kim!” They chimed as they dragged you out with them.

“B-bye, sir.” Your little voice reached his ears as the three of you finally left him alone in the empty hall.

Hongjoong hunched over, crossing his arms on his desk as he groaned.

You were driving him insane.

What’s worse was that you didn’t even intend to do so.

He wanted you.

He needed you.

As the afternoon passed, Hongjoong made his way to his office. The hall was empty as students were in their classes or their club activities. It was peaceful til he heard hushed whispers ahead from an empty classroom, the door only slightly ajar.

The professor frowned. Were there students doing another weed deal on campus? Before concluding, through the very small gap of the wooden double doors, he took a peek.

“S-someone could walk in.”

Was that his sweet Y/N’s voice? Hongjoong’s heart began to race.

“Baby, I promise no one is. This room is always vacant at this hour.” Wooyoung reassured you, kissing your neck as his hands roamed your body, specifically caressing your thighs that were parted as he stood between them.

Hongjoong swallowed the lump in his throat.

Perched on the large mahogany desk, was you. Your skirt was hiked up higher as your boyfriend pressed against you, his paws all over your soft body, feeling you through your clothes.

“You look so sexy in my jacket,” Wooyoung whispered in your ear, his hand moving lower til they were under your skirt. “I couldn’t stop thinking of how good you looked during lunch.”

You softly yelped when his fingers pressed against your core through your cotton panties. “W-woo!”

“Awe, baby, are you getting wet? All for me?”

“W-woo,” you whimpered when he traced his fingers along your slit, embarrassed at the dirty talk.

“Fuck, you’re soaking through your panties, baby. Tell me you want me to touch you. Ask me and I’ll make you feel good, baby.”

You wanted him to keep touching you but you felt a little guilty. You had started to feel hot way earlier than your boyfriend knew. Jennie and Minsol’s hushed whispering from class about Mr. Kim…ashamedly had made you ache.

“M-make me feel good, Woo.”

Your boyfriend groaned against your neck, rubbing you through your panties. “My pretty baby. You deserve so much.”

Your back arched when he applied more pressure to your clit.

“I’ll make you feel good, baby. I promise…. but I won’t make your first time here in a classroom.” He kissed your neck messily, licking your skin.

“But Youngie…” you didn’t want him to stop touching you. He has touched you like this many times before when he came over but it never went past that. He didn’t want to force you into something you weren’t ready for but as time passed and the more you fell for him, you’ve been wanting to go all the way with him.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you cum. I’ll be a good boyfriend and let my pretty girlfriend cum.” He kissed your forehead, slipping his hand under your panties to truly feel you. “You’re so wet, baby.” He moaned, collecting your slick and spreading it all over your pussy.

“Youngie,” you whimpered, gripping his shirt as your thighs trembled at the delicious friction.

“I love it when you call me that,” he sighed, repressing the urge that he indeed in fact wanted to ruin his pretty untouched girlfriend. He loved you and he wanted to treat you right as best as he could. You weren’t like the other girls he’s been with. He liked how you looked at him with stars in your eyes.

Your thighs squeezed at his sides unable to close as he continued to play with your pussy, touching you heavily and the way you liked. You couldn’t help but softly moan and pant at the intoxicating pleasure.

Hongjoong was burning with jealousy. A part of him wanted to disrupt the two of you and scold the two of you for misconduct as he had every right as a professor to do so. But…you looked so pretty falling apart for your boyfriend. Brows furrowed as your lips part and sigh, the setting sun hitting your skin in such a way that the lewd imagery before him was like a movie. He could feel his desire straining in his trousers. He wanted to watch.

“Youngie,” you whimpered so prettily.

Hongjoong took note of how your back arched when Wooyoung nibbled and kissed at a spot on your neck. You must be extra sensitive there. He also imagined how soft your breasts would be if he was the one cupping them through your cute blouse.

“You close baby?” Wooyoung rasped against your ear, rubbing your clit faster, making you lean your head forward to rest on his chest.

“Nuh-uh,” Wooyoung clicked his tongue, his right hand leaving your breast to grab you by the chin, making you look at him. “Let me see your pretty face, baby.” He swiped his thumb over your lower lip and bit his lip when you suddenly took his digit into your mouth, softly sucking on it. Where the fuck did you learn to do that? “C’mon, baby. Cum. Cum for me.”

You released his thumb with a soft pop, your lips even glossier from your gloss and saliva. You were panting and moaning so cutely, Wooyoung felt he was going to cum in his pants just at the sight of you getting off his fingers. He massaged your clit faster, watching the way your lids began to droop as you blinked up at him hazily and your lips part in a cute little ‘o’.

“Youngie!” You cried out, back arching and thighs trembling as you reached your high, your pussy dripping more arousal all over your boyfriend’s fingers.

“That’s it, baby. Such a pretty baby.” Wooyoung cooed, enjoying your fucked out expression. It was addicting really. His sweet innocent girlfriend falling apart for him. If you were this fucked out by just fingers, he can’t imagine how fucking delectable you looked when he finally fucked you.

Hongjoong bit his lip as he watched you come down from your high. How your arms wrapped around your boyfriend as he slowed his circles on your clit. He wished he could see how your pussy looked, how wet it was, and how sweet the nectar it produced.

Wooyoung took his hand from your panties and brought his fingers to his lips, your eyes widening. His hand left its grip on your face.

“W-woo!”

That didn’t stop him from letting his tongue dart out to lick his digits. “You taste so sweet, baby. Maybe I’ll come up tonight once I drop you off and really have a good taste of you.”

You blushed at his words and felt heat spark in your lower belly at what he hinted. Did he mean that he was going to kiss and taste you down there? With his tongue? The idea made your cheeks grow hot but that only made your boyfriend grin.

“Oh? You’re not opposed to it?” He teased, enjoying the way you only huffed and pouted your pretty lips. “Here, baby. Taste yourself.”

Hongjoong watched as you wearily, so curiously, poked out your cute tongue to lick your boyfriend’s fingers. How did you taste? Did you like it? You batted your lashes up at your boyfriend who awaited your verdict.

“So? How do you taste?” He took your hand in his other one, just relishing the moment you two had in the orange sunset-lit classroom.

“G-good.”

“Atta, girl.” Wooyoung grinned, taking you into his embrace and kissing you again.

Hongjoong felt his head pound from how hard he was in his pants. He wanted a taste. He needed a taste.

How was he going to get close to you when you and your boyfriend were all fine and dandy again?

“What do you say, baby? Friday night? I’ll come over and we’ll watch a movie. I’ll bring your favorite strawberries coated in chocolate. Then maybe…” he caressed your cheek. “We could go all the way?”

“W-won’t it hurt?”

Wooyoung and Hongjoong’s hearts ached at your sweetness.

“Well, when Friday rolls around, and you’re not up for it. It’s okay. We’ll just have a cozy little date and make out. I’ll wait for you when you’re ready. Okay?”

His gentle voice along with his care for you made your stomach flutter. “O-okay.” You leaned your cheek into his palm. “I love you, Woo.”

“I love you too, baby.”

While you and Wooyoung basked in the moment you two found yourselves in, Hongjoong made a beeline to his office and locked the door. He glanced down and saw the bulge of his cock poking through his tailored trousers. He threw his head back, slamming it against the door as he groaned.

He was going to have to take care of it himself cause it wasn’t going to go away til he did.

He didn’t know when the stalking— okay, in his defense, following and keeping an eye on you, started.

All Hongjoong knew was, he needed to get to know you. He needed to get closer somehow, be a friend. Someone you could turn to and cry to. Plus, you lived alone, away from your parents. You needed someone to protect you.

From all the wolves that surrounded you, including that boyfriend of yours.

As he passed the baseball field from where he parked his car, he couldn’t help but overhear a group of young wolf pups gathered and talking beneath the morning sun. They all wore the same varsity jacket, making Hongjoong’s pack of wolves analogy even truer.

“So? Did you and Y/N go all the way yet?” The Vice Captain of the team asked, the young and handsome Mr. Choi.

The rest of the boys began to nudge and tease their Captain who had been tossing the baseball in his hand nonchalantly.

“Yeah, have you and little Miss all prim and proper done more than just second base?” The tallest of them, Song Mingi, joined in the teasing, the boys all grinning and tossing oo’s and ah’s. “Your girl has a nice ass.”

“Hey,” Wooyoung harshly hissed at his teammate. “Yeah, and that’s my girl you’re talking about.”

“Can’t blame Mingi. You’re with the campus’s dream girl.” Jongho added, running his fingers through his brown hair.

“Dream girl?” Wooyoung’s brows furrowed.

“Yeah! Sure she’s lowkey and literally the nicest person on campus. Hell, she even helped me with calculus. I even thought of asking her out on a date.” San chirped. “But you got to her first. Anyway, that’s beside the point, did you guys finally do it? Friday night?”

Hongjoong remained hidden behind the shadows of the bleachers, needing to know the answer to San’s question.

“We didn’t. She got nervous and you know, I have to be a good boyfriend and wait. I don’t want to pressure her. She’s a nice girl.” Wooyoung finally responded, his answer earning a groan from his friends.

Mingi stared at him for a moment. “You should be a saint. That amount of self-control is crazy.”

“Well, good things come to those who wait, Mingi.” Wooyoung grinned. “I’m a hundred percent sure my girl is worth the wait and more.”

“You’re really down bad for her, huh?” Jongho laughed softly, actually admiring the fact that Wooyoung was becoming a better guy with you.

“Y-yeah…she is. I really love her.”

“I just can’t believe she fell for you. After all the girls you slept with in the past and the parties. She still fell for Jung Wooyoung. Anyways,” Jongho clapped Wooyoung on the back. “I hope you get some soon.”

San wouldn’t relent though.

“Has she at least been…you know….giving? I know you worship the fuck out of her in different ways but has the pretty princess given back?”

Hongjoong should head back to his office before he’s caught but…he needed to know the details.

“San, she doesn’t know how.”

Wooyoung’s response made San groan and Hongjoong fought back his own.

“She’s a fucking angel your girlfriend.” San huffed his crush on you not concerning Wooyoung as he knew San would never cross the line.

“Dude, when you get to teach her, it’s gonna be so fucking hot.” Mingi sighed, thinking of who to contact for his next hookup. He needed to fuck.

Hongjoong couldn’t help but agree. To teach someone as beautiful and pretty as you, how to use your cute mouth and delicate hands…the fantasy of you between his legs while he sits on his office couch…guiding you while you look up at him for him to lead you…the young pups have a point.

“Okay, can you guys chill and not talk about my girlfriend like that?” Wooyoung lightly scolded his friends. “Anyways, you guys better be on your best behavior for tonight’s practice. I'm driving Y/N home for our date and I really don’t want to have to bail again because Coach isn’t happy with our performance.”

“We’ll do our best,” San spoke for them, sending a pointed glare to Mingi and Jongho, they’re bickering always getting their Coach to overtime their practices. “But coach hasn’t been in a good mood as far as I know.”

Wooyoung swore under his breath, worry bubbling in his chest when he imagined your disappointment and the way your eyes become glassy as you fight back tears. He really didn’t want to make you feel like he didn’t care about you again…he knew you understood his obligations to his team. He just hoped he wouldn’t forget to update you this time and keep you waiting for him.

Hongjoong didn’t stay long after that. He went off his merry way back to his office, wondering if tonight would be another chance to have some time with you again. Be your knight in shining armor if your boyfriend doesn’t pick you up again.

All he needed to do was stay in your good graces.

After all, he just wanted to take care of you…

It began with longer conversations after class, asking how you were doing and if you understood the lecture or not. Then when midterms started to round the corner he would casually stay past campus hours just so that he could ‘by chance’ be finishing up late at the same time you were finished up studying in the library.

But this time, when he found you, the sun was beginning to set and you were in one of the library aisles, in the sections students don’t frequent, on the floor hugging your knees to your chest. Your back was against the tall wooden bookshelf and you were by the window, your head below the window pane as you softly sniffled.

Hongjoong felt his stomach twist. What did your boyfriend do?

“Ms. L/N?” As softly as he could, he called out to you and he saw you visibly stiffen.

“M-Mr. Kim?” You kept your head down, too embarrassed to look up at him because he would see the tears and puffiness in your eyes.

“Are you okay, Ms. L/N?” He slowly approached, observing your body language if you would shrink away from him. He kneeled before you. “Did something happen? Why are you crying?”

You bit your lip, fighting back the way it quivered as you wanted to tell him exactly what happened but you were crying over something so silly.

A gentle warm hand softly patted your head, your heart stopping at the touch. Maybe you could tell him everything. Besides…he has been so kind to you and only ever wanted to make sure you were okay. When the two of you spent time together and talked, you would sometimes forget he was your professor and not just a friend.

And yet, your heart couldn’t help but want to be in the palm of his hand, knowing he’d be gentle with it.

When you lifted your head to look at him, the tears in your eyes had Hongjoong almost falling to his knees and wanting to embrace you right then and there. “I’ll take you to my office okay?” He offered, taking out his handkerchief and putting it in your trembling hands.

“O-okay.” You murmured.

With a guiding arm around your shoulders and making sure no wandering eyes would see the two of you, the likelihood being low since it was past class hours, the varsity teams were training and it was a Friday, he led you to his office.

You stood awkwardly in the middle of his office, clutching his handkerchief in your hand, a part of your brain contemplating the idea of being vulnerable in your professor's office. It was highly inappropriate. Should anyone find out—

You were torn from your thoughts when a pair of warm arms wrapped around you so gently. You blinked a couple of times unable to process what was happening and the beating of your heart. Hongjoong cradled the back of your head as he held you close to him, your cheek brushing against his neck.

“It hurts to see you cry.” He whispered, unable to hold himself back from soothing you then he pulled away and led you to the leather couch in his office.

You sat on one end while he was on the other, the gap between you reminding you of the intrusive thought of the distance you and Wooyoung might have soon…

“What’s wrong, darling? You can tell me, you know. I’m always here to lend an ear. Whatever it is I won’t judge you, especially when it hurts you this deeply.”

Hongjoong tried to meet your eyes that were cast down on your fingers on your lap, fiddling with his handkerchief. Was it your boyfriend? He swore if it was Jung Wooyoung he was going to teach that boy a lesson.

Hesitantly, you allowed yourself to speak freely to him.

A moment of weakness?

“I-I overheard Youngie’s friends when I was in the library…they were about to leave for practice and…” you felt that lump in your throat creep up higher, making you want to sob again as you remembered what they said. “They said that they felt b-bad for him.”

Bad for him?

“It’s a bit…tmi…sir. I’m sorry it’s hard to speak about it.” You stared at the edge of your skirt, feeling the shame and embarrassment you had felt earlier crawling on your skin.

“Ah? TMI.” Hongjoong crossed his arms over his chest, trying to play it off as if it’s nothing to make it comfortable for you to tell him. “Well, Ms. L/N, we are two adults, aren’t we not? Plus, it’s after university hours. I’m here for you right now as a friend and I’d like to help soothe your troubles if you would let me.”

It was almost too easy the way you caved into his words. Jung Wooyoung did not deserve a sweet girl like you.

“Youngie’s teammates…said they feel bad for him because I haven’t…” you paused, heat blooming in your tear-stained cheeks. “I haven’t slept with him.” Then you felt that ache in your heart return. “I don’t want to lose him, Mr. Kim. I love him so much. I-I want to be a good girlfriend.”

Hongjoong’s heart broke. His beautiful wilted rose. How dare those dumb boys speak so ill of you?

“You’re a good girlfriend I’m sure, Ms. L/N.” He reassured you with such calmness, his words made you perk up a little. “You didn’t hear these words from Wooyoung himself right?”

You nodded.

“But even though…I still want to make him feel good. He always makes me feel…” you trailed off, realizing that you were talking about the intimate things you and your boyfriend do. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with Wooyoung like that…I just…I don’t want to disappoint him.”

“Disappoint him how?”

“Wooyoung has been with girls…with experience. He’s my first boyfriend and he’s the first man to ever touch m-me…kiss me…”

Hongjoong was fighting back the attraction grew the more you spoke about your lack of experience. He couldn’t believe those boys had you questioning your worth all because you were scared to go all the way with your boyfriend.

“I-I even tried watching…videos…on how I can do things for Wooyoung…but I just am too scared to initiate it. What if I do something wrong and it goes horribly?”

“You shouldn’t need to worry about that. I’m sure your…” Hongjoong held himself back from saying what he said with jealousy. “…boyfriend would be more than happy to teach you. Has he offered to?”

You shook your head.

“Ah…I see.” Hongjoong sat back, trying to think of what to say next. “I’m pretty sure what you lack is practice…” he trod carefully, gauging your expression with each word he was choosing. “You’ll never know til you give it a try. With everything in life, you learn as you go.”

He watched as you took each word seriously, a rather sweet pensive look on your face as you nodded at his advice. Hongjoong hoped he didn’t cross the line by saying that and made things awkward between the two of you.

“If I may speak as another human being helping another,” Hongjoong continued, hoping to calm your stormy mind. “I just hope you don’t feel pressured to do anything with your boyfriend or anyone. It’s very sweet of you to want to do something this intimate with someone you desire but I’d rather you won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, going over all the caring and sweet affirmations Mr. Kim was giving you. How was it you felt so safe with him? He was too kind to you…yet you enjoyed the company he gave.

When Wooyoung wasn’t able to take you home from extended practices and last minute cancellations and texts, Professor Kim was always there to somehow salvage the day. To stop the breaking of your heart with his warm smile and effort to get to know you and make conversation.

“M-Mr. Kim…”

You finally spoke. Hongjoong smiled warmly at the call of his name. He observed how your cheeks began to flush. Your teeth sink into your lower lip as you hesitate to continue. You suck in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be brave and look him in the eye.

“Could you guide me?”

Nothing but your voice rang in his ears at this moment. Hongjoong was shocked by the question. Was it a question? With the way your eyes were bleary and glossy, how your lips were trembling, and how flustered you appeared. It was a plea.

“Ms.L/N….” He tried to resist as much as he could, knowing that if he were to cross the line, he wouldn’t be able to go back. You were his forbidden desire. If he were to take a bite, he would want nothing more than to consume you.

You knew what you asked was silly and inappropriate, and a part of you regretted asking but if you were to leave this room right now, all you would be able to think about was how Wooyoung’s friends talked about you and wonder how much Wooyoung shared to his friends about yours and his relationship.

Mr.Kim looked speechless and flustered from what you asked of him. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

“Mr.Kim, I-I’m so sorry,” you quickly blurted out, trying to salvage the odd atmosphere. “Please forget everything I said. Thank you so much for comforting me—

"Are you sure you want me to help, Ms. L/N?” Hongjoong stopped your rambling, taking your hand that you hadn’t realized was trembling from nerves but the moment he spoke and he touched you, your body found a sense of calm. “I just don’t want to make you do anything you’ll regret.”

Oh, he wanted to help.

“I-I wouldn’t have asked anyone else but you...I feel safe with you.” You mumbled shyly, staring at his pretty hand holding yours, his thumb rubbing soothingly over your knuckles.

“Your trust in me is something I shall cherish and I wouldn’t dare break it.” He looked you in the eyes as he said that, the warmth and intensity of them made your heart flutter. “I promise I’ll keep it strictly professional and I’ll make sure to put your comfort first.”

Your heart fluttered again. “O-okay.”

“How would you like this to go?”

“I-I’m not sure…Wooyoung usually takes the lead whenever we do anything more than kissing…” you were speaking so softly, it was pulling at Hongjoong’s heartstrings. You were so precious. “I wouldn’t mind you taking the lead…teach me how to make Wooyoung feel good.” You squeezed his hand nervously and he kept his soft smile on his face, hiding his excitement.

You’ll let him take the lead?

“Okay, sweetheart. I promise I won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with okay?” He caressed your cheek fondly, forcing himself to not brush your lips with his thumb. “Tell me to stop when it gets too much.”

“Thank you, sir.” You whispered, feeling all tense as he got closer.

Sir? Were you trying to kill him? He scooted closer, your knees touching his own. “Do I have permission to touch you, darling?”

The pet name made you feel just a little bit more hotter. The way he said it, his voice a low purr, made you feel things you thought you’d only feel with Wooyoung.

“Y-yes, sir.”

Experimentally, he slowly glided his hand up the side of your thigh, the sweet gasp falling from your lips making him smirk against your neck. He brushed his lips against your neck, before whispering in your ear. “You’ve watched videos as research, correct?”

You stuttered out your response, feeling your body grow warm with the way his hand smoothed up and down your thigh, never going higher than where your skirt stopped. “I did…” Was it wrong that you wanted his hand to move higher?

Hongjoong held back from kissing your neck, testing the waters of what exactly he could do to you. His hand moved to your waist now, caressing the curve of your side then stopping so that his thumb was just below the underside of your bra covered chest.

“Why don’t you show me what you learned, hm? Then I’ll guide you along the way.” He suggested, his tone going just a little lower than usual.

And that’s how you found yourself on your knees, between your professor's trousered thighs, your eyes looking at him with such uncertainty and the willingness to learn.

“Don’t be shy. I’m sure you won't disappoint,” Hongjoong reassured you, petting your head lovingly while his thoughts were going wild at the mere sight of you all cute and demure between his legs.

“O-okay.”

As you had watched and observed, you placed your hands on his thighs. They trembled a little. What if you messed up here too? You shook the thought away. Professor Kim was going to guide you. You’ll be okay and then you’ll be able to make Wooyoung feel good too.

All of this was for Wooyoung.

You slowly slid your hands up his thighs feeling the smooth fabric of his trousers as you recounted the videos you had seen. You remembered how the woman in the video would trace her fingers over the man’s groin…but was Hongjoong even…turned on?

You remember how stiff Wooyoung would get when you were on his lap as you two made out, his hands running up and down your sides then over the curve of your ass, squeezing it.

Do you need to kiss Mr. Kim too?

Before asking, you experimentally softly placed your palm against his groin, blushing to find that he was hot and rather stiff through his pants. A shaky breath escaped him and you retracted your hand.

“W-was that not okay?”

“It was fine,” he managed a smile for you, getting hard at just how shy and sweet you were. “You’re doing fine.”

“O-okay,” you swallowed the lump in your throat, gliding your palm over his clothed groin before sliding higher, your other hand joining to unbuckle his belt.

Each gentle and inexperienced touch or ghost of your fingers over his crotch was making his cock twitch to life. It was so easy for him to be turned on…well…because it was you. It was endearing how focused yet nervous you were and once you tugged his briefs down low enough for his cock to spring up, your eyes stared at his length.

From his reclined position on the couch, his legs spread to accommodate you, he was able to notice the way your thighs squeezed to tether at the sight of him.

Your face was hot as your eyes took in the sight of his cock. It was way more intimidating to see one in person than on a screen…was it odd for you to think it was rather pretty? The head was a soft pink and it glistened with something that made your tongue somehow itch to want to try and wrap your mouth around him. Would he fit in your mouth? Would he fit in— you stopped yourself from thinking that. You can’t go all the way with Mr. Kim, you were going to do that with Wooyoung.

Feeling his warm gaze on you, you gently wrapped your hand around his length. The feeling of him hot and heavy in your palm, the girth of him, made your core pulse.

Hongjoong bit his lip at the gentle touch, the smoothness of your palm, and the dainty way you held him making him sensitive to whatever you were doing. He knew it wasn’t on purpose that you were prolonging any sort of movement, you weren’t sure what to do next.

“Tell me what you learned,” he managed to speak calmly. “Or what you observed.”

Squeezing your thighs together and inching closer to get into a comfortable position, you thought of what to answer. “In the videos…the girls take their partner in their mouth…and some just move their hand…I'm not sure what to do next, I’m sorry.” You looked away, embarrassed.

This was exactly why you never initiated it with Wooyoung. If you did and you messed up or did not even follow through, he would’ve mentioned it to his friends somehow in their talks.

Hongjoong saw how nervous you were and tried to suppress the desire to command you what to do and how you should do it, he placed his hand over yours that was softly holding his cock. He couldn’t be mean to you…as much as he wanted to completely control you and make you feel pleasure that would have you falling apart for him, he wanted to be gentle with you.

“I’ll guide you, okay?” His other hand petted the top of your head, making the nerves yo I had been feeling dwindle. You nodded.

“You have to spit on it first, sweetheart.”

His words made your eyes widen. The dirty notion was embellished with a sweet term of endearment. Hearing it from him, from the mouth where only kindness, care and knowledge was all you heard come out of it, made you feel warm.

“Spit on it?”

“I know it sounds odd but it’ll help. I’ll guide you on how to use your hand first. Don’t be shy, darling.”

His encouragement only made you want to do as he says. You told yourself it only feels weird because you’ve never done it before and Mr. Kim was kind enough to help you be more confident when the time comes for you to do it with your boyfriend.

Leaning over, you collected your saliva and spat softly. Hongjoong bit back any sound that dared escape him at the moment not ready to break the promise of being professional for your sake but the warmth of your spit and how shyly you did it turned him on even more.

“Now,” he guided your hand. “Spread it around with my precum like this.” He loosely moved your hand, letting your dainty fingers be covered by the mix of your spit and his precum. “It’ll be easier to move your hand this way, it’ll feel good.”

You nodded, feeling the slickness against your palm and how it now easily glided along his length with his hand still over yours.

“You have to hold it just a little tighter.” He closed his hand over yours a little tighter but not too tight but just enough to tell you how much pressure you should be applying.

“L-like this?” You adjusted your grip and slowly while your hand moved in slow up and down motions, he removed his hand and a deep sigh of bliss left him.

“Just like that, sweetheart…just like that.” His voice dipped lower and his head rolled back a little, giving you the perfect view of his sharp jawline and pink lips.

Your eyes kept shifting from his face and to his cock in your hand, entranced somehow by the idea of how he was feeling good by just your hand. Watching a video was completely different from actually doing it. You recalled the way a girl in a video would twist her hand as she glided her hand up and down, and you decided to try the motion.

Hongjoong hissed out a curse at the new movement. “That feels good.” His hips bucked up a little, pushing his cock up in your hand.

Feeling a little braver, you leaned forward to press your lips on the head of his cock, kissing it and feeling heat surge to your core at how warm the tip was against your lips.

Hongjoong lifted his head from its thrown back position to look at you, the sudden sensation of your soft lips on his cock turning him on further.

“You want to try that already?” He asked, his hand gripping the armrest of the couch when your doe eyes looked up at him so innocently, your lips wrapped around the head of his cock, and nodded, it was driving him crazy. It was getting harder and harder to retain any sense of composure. “Go ahead, sweetheart. Show me what you learned. You’re already doing so well. You look so cute like this too.”

His words of praise and compliments made both your heart and core throb. It made you try even harder to please him. You wondered if it was okay that you were getting wet. You could feel your slick sticking to the gusset of your panties and against the lips of your pussy.

Hongjoong moaned softly when he felt your hot tongue swirling around his cock head. He twitched within your hand continued their rhythmic twisting and up and down rhythm. He watched as you tasted him. He could see the way your brows furrowed at the taste and when he felt you take more of him in your mouth and suckle at the sensitive tip of his cock, you were making it harder for him to not buck his hips up into your pretty mouth.

“You doing okay?” He asked, gently placing his hand behind the back of your head, caressing you.

You nodded, humming, the vibrations of your sound adding some extra pleasure to the way you were giving him head.

“F-fuck, you’re doing so good, sweetheart. Such a good girl.”

The way he said that made your pussy clench. Why did that have some effect on you? It sounded so hot coming from him and it made you want to please him even more.

Eventually, you took what you could of him in your mouth, fighting back your gag reflex and bobbing your head shallowly along his cock. Your hand continued to jerk what you couldn’t fit of his length in your little mouth. You were aching so bad, you couldn’t help but let your free hand slide between your thighs to find your pussy, surprised at how wet you were. It was easy to spread your arousal all over your cunt and begin massaging your clit the way you liked, settling for the friction of your fingers.

Hongjoong noticed your dainty hand between your legs. The sight of you suckling and bobbing your cute head up and down along his cock, and touching yourself was sending him to the edge. Plus your lips tinted with pink gloss were mixing with your saliva as you continued to suck him off. You were so fucking cute.

“I’m close darling. You’re doing so well. You had nothing to be so nervous about. F-fuck.” He shuddered when he felt the head of his cock hit the back of your throat and you squeaked so adorably, the sound muffled. What a cute little slut you were touching yourself as you stuffed your little mouth with his cock. Though he was saying such sweet praises, deep down he wanted to fuck his cock into your mouth and watch you cry from taking him. He was betting you’d look up at him with wide pleading eyes with tears as you let him use you as his personal cock sleeve.

The mere thought of that sent him over the edge and without warning, he came. A small squeak left you as sudden hot spurts of cum spilled into your mouth. You latched off of him in surprise, your hand still pumping him as he came. His moans and the way his head was thrown back, made you stop touching yourself so you could focus fully on the way he climaxed all over your face.

“Fuck!” He groaned as his hand that was cradling your head gripped your hair and his hips bucked up into your hand, riding out his high. You whimpered as he tugged at your hair, the sensation making your clit throb. Why did that feel good? Why did having his release on your cheeks and in your mouth, turned you on?

“Open up, darling. Let me see.” Hongjoong tugged your hair back almost forcibly, his gaze almost predatory, it scared you a bit. You’ve never seen such a dark, menacing yet charming expression on your sweet and kind professor.

You parted your lips and he smirked.

He wondered if you knew just how cute and ruined your look right now. Pink gloss smeared over your lips and your cheeks flushed and stained with his white sticky cum, and the best of all, his seed was on your tongue.

He wished he could take a picture.

You didn’t realize you were breathing slowly as your heart was racing and he stared down at you with a glint in his eye that you couldn’t quite place.

“You look so pretty like this, darling.” His grip on your hair loosened and his hand moved to cup your cheek, his thumb dipping into your mouth as you still obediently kept your lips parted for him. He smeared more of his cum all over your lips and chin, finding the idea of him on your skin so hot…it’s like he marked you. “Such a good girl.” He cooed and you didn’t know why you did what you did but you swallowed his salty release, and his reaction made it all worth it. “What a perfect girl you are.”

His praise only made your heart flutter, his words only feeding that part of you that wanted to please him…to please Wooyoung.

“D-do you think Woo will like it?” You asked, your voice a little hoarse as you sat there on your knees, looking up at him so sweetly.

Hongjoong held back from rolling his eyes at the mention of the boy who didn’t deserve you. He masked his annoyance with a smile. “He’ll like it, darling. You did really well. I mean it.” He took his handkerchief and began to clean you up, gently dabbing your cheek.

Despite the ache between your thighs, you couldn’t stop the way a smile grew on your face at the approval from your most trusted mentor.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Kim—

“Hongjoong.” He cut you off with a gentle smile, looking at you lovingly.

“What?” You stuttered that same feeling you felt earlier, the confusion of the same way he made your heart flutter like Wooyoung does.

“You can call me Hongjoong when it’s just the two of us, darling. I think with how close we’ve gotten…I’d like you to call me by my name. Don’t you think we’re rather close?”

There was something about his eyes that captivated you. It was so magnetic it was hard to not be completely wonderstruck and in control of that powerful gaze.

All you could do was nod.

“That’s a good girl…” he cooed, smiling warmly. “Perhaps, you need more guidance. You want to be a good girlfriend for your Wooyoung right?”

You did, you wanted to be the best girlfriend for him.

“I do…”

“Sometimes what you see online is not entirely reliable. I’m offering you…private lessons…doesn’t that sound good for you?”

You nodded, letting him pull you up on and onto his lap, gasping when your core pressed against his thigh.

“I’ll teach you all there is to know. I want what's best for you and for you to know exactly what you’re getting into.” He ran his hand up and down your thigh, slowly. “You don’t want to disappoint Wooyoung, right?”

“I don’t Sir…” you said so quickly.

So innocent. So naive. So dumb. So perfect for him to ruin.

He never thought he’d get to this point.

All this time, he has only ever admired you and desired you from afar. He kept his reputation as a well-loved and kind professor so that no one and you, especially you, would ever question his motives.

“Now, I think we should try this again. You did really well but I can teach you a little extra something that will make your boyfriend so, so, so happy.”

feel free to scream in my askbox about the fic I will gladly fangirl with you and I love feedback. It keeps me writing.

special tags : @khjcs @skteezcursed @caityelise99

#hongjoong x reader #hongjoong smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung smut #ateez au #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

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sleyu · 9 months

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thinking about how mean!bf sirius would have a hugeee corruption kink, he just wants to ruin your mind yk

idk maybe its just me

i think mean or not, it is definite that sirius black has a corruption kink and it unquestionably couples with his possessive nature.

just imagine mean bf ! sirius meeting you for the first time. you’re a timid, but undoubtedly kind individual who is meek next to him—fully aware of sirius’ notoriety in his personality and habits. he becomes so awestruck, he has nothing to respond to your unassuming questions aside from the occasional nod or gentle murmur.

he displays a calm, relatively friendly aura until the pair of you begin to become acquainted with each other and ultimately, begin dating. it is only then, that the mean teasing and snickers begin, and his heart bursts with joy at the sound of your bashful whines and protests every time he playfully slaps your ass or tugs your skirt, laughing and pulling you close to him, muttering how his actions are all in good fun and that he’d never let anything actually hurt you.

‘so bloody sensitive. y’know i’d rather die than let someone lay a hand on you, dummy.’

and of course, sirius isn’t stupid. he’s been having lewd, perverted thoughts about you since the day he met you. in fact, it was only the same night that sirius cast a silencing charm around his bed to hide the sinful sounds of him grunting as he fisted his cock, thoughts about bending you over the classroom desk polluting his already depraved mind.

since you’ve started dating, he reckons it’s time to manifest these fantasies into life, especially after noticing how your meek gaze has begun to linger on his broad chest and widen at the sight of his bulging crotch. his inner self beams with joy and crude anticipation every time he feels you pawing at his thighs, looking up at him in despair as if you’re unsure of what you really want or why the throbbing ache in between your thighs is only getting worse.

i think mean bf ! sirius would definitely become dizzy at the sight of you on your knees, hands gripping his muscular thighs, begging him to let you suck his cock or to fill your cunt up. usually he was the one doing the begging, but here you were, pliant, obedient, and desperate for his every touch. he genuinely has to sit down and stare at you while also controlling the immoral urge of forcing his cock down your throat, watching how your eyes widen and become teary as your throat contracts and chokes around his pulsating cock.

he genuinely cannot control himself once he sees you fully submit to him, begging him to give you the exact things you were too shy about even insinuating merely a month ago. it makes him feel so accomplished knowing that he was the one that made your brain all cloudy and fuzzy—that he was the one who got your cunt hooked on the feeling of his relentless, unforgiving cock.

‘sirius—my fingers—they’re not good enough—need your cock in me—jus’ want you to ruin ‘n abuse me—please da—’ as soon as you become close to uttering the last word, he’s already lifted up your skirt and forced his cock inside your aching pussy anyways, groaning into your mouth and fucking you ten times harder than he would have any other day.

‘slut—you’ve become a little slut—oh, fuck—‘n who’s are you, huh?’

it becomes the first time that sirius loses all sense of reason and caution as it has become evident to him that he’s irreversibly corrupted you into becoming just as disgusting and perverted as him.

‘nah, not sirius’, honey, you're daddy’s, yeah?’

‘gross fuckin’ bitch loves that, huh, puppy? you like it when daddy forces himself inside you like that, hm?’

‘hogwarts newest slut, yeah? but only mine, isn’t that right? only i get to ruin—fuck—this whorish cunt—mmm,’

sirius is so mean, he doesn’t even tell you when he’s about to cum :( he makes you cum and afterward, you’re a fucked out mess because he just doesn’t stop. your eyebrows begin to furrow and you can only manage to mumble a quiet ‘sirius?’ before he groans into your neck, breath all hot and heavy, and pumps you full of his hot, sticky cum. all you can do is whine and writhe beneath him as he pushes your knees to your chest and uses your cunt to drain his massive cock.

all the while, he’s reveling in the realization that he has just cummed inside you and that if spells and birth control were forgotten, it would be no surprise if you fell pregnant with the copious amounts of cum pumped inside your spent hole.

‘my dirty girl likes when daddy breeds her, doesn’t she? oh, don’t shake your head, pup, i know you like it—can feel you clench—god—around me right now.’

sirius gets so turned on when you confess that you can’t make yourself cum without him ever since the two of you started having sex. the image of you crying out in frustration at the feeling of your own neediness and the dull throbbing in between your sore thighs—incapable of doing anything without his guidance—makes his cock harden far quicker than it should have.

‘poor thing. my dumb girl can’t do anything without me, can she? your small fingers just aren’t as daddy, hm?’ paired with a faux, mocking frown because sirius black is an asshole that is very visibly ecstatic that you’ll always have to come to him to find a release.

and nothing fuels his ego more than having you beg him to stuff you full of his cum before class begins. he loses his mind seeing the effects of ruining your perfect, angelic interior. his once smart, goody-two-shoes, good-girl has become a conniving slut, her own cunt betraying any logic or rational thinking within her mind :( seeing his shy, perfect-attendance girlfriend begging him to skip class with her to fuck in a dingy broom closet is all it takes for him to bust right then and there.

7K notes · View notes

oddfoxstudio · 4 months

Text

Corrupted Classroom refs from various periods of my messed up lore!!! Rando facts below!!!!

• unfortunately,british ppl exist here as gaylord is british and moved to piqua to start his business and family when he was around 24

• krupp's colours are based off multiple characters whose connection with him has lead to multiple impacting events in both the lore and his life

• gaylord has a problem of wanting multiple things at once,but only being able to put his focus into only two of these things. Remember that now!

• krupp suffered from a form of....survivor's guilt if you will after the MCI Incidents in this AU

• gaylord has absolutely zero care about what he wears. just slaps on whatever and calls it a day

• krupp's toque resembles his emotions in this AU,if he gets scared,the toque will jump up

• as of the present in the AU Timeline,No One knows where gaylord is. Not even■■■■■(damn,spoilers!)

• despite his rocky relationship with his mother,krupp does end up going back to his family's farm. however,not by his own accord.

I think I've said enough for now,if anyone wants to know more,my ask box is open!!!!

#captain underpants #tetocu #fnaf #the epic tales of captain underpants #odd's art #cc au #corrupted classroom au #corrupted classroom #cu au #captain underpants au #gaylord sneedly #mr krupp #tw alcohol #i mean its a flask but yeaaaaaaahhhh

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odds-cu-blog · 4 months

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Hello everybody,it's Odd here! Apologies for not posting on here for awhile,not many asks but I did waned to pop in and due something to celebrate our favourite nerd's birthday yesterday! So,here are two canon facts about CC!Melvin:

He is the only person to have gone to therapy as an adult

They have a very strong British accent due to having a large family that mainly lived there. Including xis Mother and Father.

That's all for now,apologies it was so short! But I'll see you all very soon!

#captain underpants #cc au #corrupted classroom #corrupted classroom au #melvin sneedly #out of character.#mod talks #odd talks #cc facts #facts

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rainbowhao · 2 months

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fratboy yeonjun

mature

fratboy yeonjun who doesn't get deterred when you brush off his advances—something no sane-minded person has done thus far

fratboy yeonjun who follows you around like a lost puppy, carrying your backpack and walking you to your next lecture

fratboy yeonjun who learns that you're practically untouchable, that you keep to yourself and are a mystery to basicslly everyone on campus

fratboy yeonjun who doesn't take your wariness to heart and just wants to get to know you—at least, that's what he tells you

fratboy yeonjun who is sure you're a virgin and makes it his personal goal to be the person who changes that

fratboy yeonjun who has natural charm and can see the way he affects you when he brushes your waist or whispers in your ear

fratboy yeonjun who starts calling you baby and sweetheart and somehow the names feel so right spilling from his lips

fratboy yeonjun who teases you every chance he gets

"in the classroom? what if someone sees us?" he chuckles when you pull him through the doorway, loving the way you flush

"this tastes pretty good." he licks the lollypop he stole from your bag. "but you know what would taste better?"

he rubs his chest when you swat him. "ouch, baby. that hurt."

"wow. your hand is so small. look."

"you can always sit in my lap." his impractical solution when there's no seat

fratboy yeonjun who isn't afraid of physical contact and touches you whenever the opportunity strikes

fratboy yeonjun who miraculously convinces you to let him stay the night in your dorm room because he's too tired to walk back, who promises to be on his best behavior and do whatever you say

fratboy yeonjun who sneaks his way into your bed and eventually your heart, waking up to your bodies warm and entangled

fratboy yeonjun who quietly watches you get ready for class, making no attempt to leave even when he starts to get hungry

fratboy yeonjun who asks for you to share the chapstick you put on with zero expectation of you falling for his silly games

"you can try it, if you want."

fratboy yeonjun who is caught off guard when you sit next to him and shyly look at your lap, waiting for him to make the first move

fratboy yeonjun who kisses you with more gentleness than he knew possible, cupping your cheek and allowing you to test the waters

fratboy yeonjun who has your tummy heating with desire when he pulls you onto his lap, stroking your sides and murmuring sweet things in between kisses

fratboy yeonjun whose plans are completely thrown out the window when he finds himself falling for you

fratboy yeonjun who becomes the cliche, clingy boyfriend who can't go more than a few hours without seeing you

"does that feel good?" he asks, biting his lip at the sight of you below him. you shiver when his thumb brushes against you.

fratboy yeonjun who has far too much fun taking his sweet time when you so desperately need him

"tell me if it hurts, baby." he peppers kisses along your neck before slowly pushing inside. you both whimper at the feeling of him finally being inside, finally having you in a way no one ever has

fratboy yeonjun who unintentionally corrupts you after you find out just how good his head game is and can't think about anything else

fratboy yeonjun who is more than happy to eat you out anywhere, anytime, putting his sin-like lips to work all over your body

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pedgito · 2 years

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𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐭 pt. i ✧ ˚ · . 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary: something that is desired all the more because it is not allowed—you find yourself torn between the idea that even though eddie is in a position of authority as your professor, he’s still what you crave the most.

cw: 18+ (minors, dni) teacher/student relationship, age gap (21 & 29), corruption!kink (eddie is well aware of what he’s doing), background ronance, max is readers bestfriend, eddie likes to wear his hair up for class and hates being formal, bratty!reader (sorta), angsty touches, a smutty cliffhanger, ect & lots more to come (pun intended)

word count: 11.6k - part two, part three, part four

The campus was huge and crowded and everything you hated all wrapped into one—but you couldn’t beat the view, the pleasant Indians weather, and all the amazing classes the college had to offer. And normally, first days would be terrifying, crippling your anxiety, but there was nothing but excitement; for now, at least.

Most of your morning was spent combing through syllabuses and trying to find your classes, which is mostly your own fault, deciding on a major so vastly different from your main course work—by the time afternoon rolls around, you’re forced to walk clear across campus, nearly ten minutes late to your class and faced with a surprisingly unirritated gentleman, who’s three seconds away from shutting the door closed indefinitely.

The man steals a glance at his watch, arm twitching slightly to force his sleeve back. His eyes glance up to you for a moment and back down, “Not a great way to start off your first day,” He comments cooly, face void of any emotion, “is this gonna be a habit?”

“No—god, no,” You respond, slightly out of breath, hand clutching the strap of your book bag, “I’m just getting used to where everything’s at—I didn’t get a chance to visit the campus earlier, I have no idea where anything is or—“

“It’s fine,” He assures, beckoning you into the classroom, surprisingly full, forcing you to the front row, positioned almost directly in front of his desk—this was the beginning of your nightmare, “let’s just be mindful of time, yeah?”

Not that Eddie has ever been punctual a day in his life. But, he’s learned that being a hard-ass is more effective than not giving a shit at all, especially when it comes to his students.

“Yeah—yes, I promise.” You swear, forcing a thin smile before making an immediate line for your desk, hoping that the further you sink, the more unnoticed you’ll be. Unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case.

The loud slide of the chalk against the chalkboard as he writes his name across the green slab is defeating, most of the class watching in fearful silence—like there was some impending doom about to descend upon them.

“Uh, sir—“ You can see him visibly tense at the word, “are we going to be learning how to play any instruments in this class?” The voice comes from a boy who seems naturally quiet and more reserved, mortified by the fact that he even found the courage to raise his hand and ask a question.

There’s a small roar of laughter from the others, but you look along stoically, watching his face upturn slightly.

“Don’t call me, sir—please,” He laughs lightly, “it makes me feel old.”

“Professor Munson,” He corrects himself, “sorry.”

“You’re fine,” He assures, “and look—this isn’t an intro to music, it’s intro to musical therapy. We’re not just studying instruments and music, we’re also studying behaviors, the mind, how all of this stuff connects and affects people’s thought process and aiding certain struggles they may have.”

His way of talking is animated and refreshing, a stark change from the usual monotone professors you’ve run into all morning.

“So, if you’re just expecting to learn how to play the piano or something, this class probably isn’t for you,” He explains, eyeing down about a quarter of the class that makes a collective groan, “hey—I’m just being honest.”

And you knew you wouldn’t see half of those people in a week, jumping at the first chance to transfer, but you couldn’t help being intrigued. It wasn’t necessarily your first choice for a major, but it took you by surprise; your love for psychology and mind studies mixed with your love of music, it seemed like the perfect storm. Plus, your professor wasn’t the worst person in the world—yet.

He easily snaps open the cuff links to his sleeves, rolling them halfway up his arm, revealing a rather striking depiction of bats, swarming around the expanse of his forearm.

He definitely seemed like a tattoo guy, but it was still odd to see so openly—his feet tap together as he takes a seat on the end of his desk, scanning the room. You can’t help but notice his lopsided tie, wanting so desperately to fix it—it was bound to drive you nuts.

“It’s probably best to get most of your question out of the way today,” He says, “so, shoot them at me while you have the opportunity.”

A few hands fly up, he points off to your right, a couple rows behind you.

“So—are you a therapist?”

He snorts a soft laugh, shaking his head, “No—I don’t have all the proper certifications, but I assist therapist a lot when they’re looking into doing stuff related to musical therapy. I know enough to get by.”

The smile he flashes leads you to believe that he’s trying to be humble.

“Do you play any instruments?” Another student asks freely, the heads of the rest of the class snapping in their direction.

“A few,” He answers, hand waving about in a noncommittal manner, “mostly just guitar.”

He adjusts his tie again, even more lopsided now and you can’t help but stare it down, focused on nothing but the black, shiny material of it—Eddie clears his throat softly, catching your attention.

He’s staring right at you, caught red-handed—quick, think of something—

“Who do you usually work with?” You ask suddenly, “In your line of work, I mean.”

Outside of being a professor, obviously.

Another laugh, more subdued. “Veterans, mostly, and a lot of children.”

Eddie claps his hands together very suddenly, startling most of the class, including yourself. “Anyways, let’s go over the syllabus so there’s no confusion—I don’t need you guys bugging me outside of my office hours, as much as I love to teach.”

You sense another jab coming, but it doesn’t.

The syllabus review is a breeze, setting you up for what most of the semester entails, including when he was available—again, making it very clear that he wasn’t available outside of office hours.

And then he’s adjusting the damn tie again, almost like it’s wringing his neck to death. By the time class ends, he dismisses everyone with a simple wave, a few students lingering around their desks, debating on whether they should drop the class or not.

The voice that trails from the front of the classroom as you take a step down catches your attention, pulling your head up to look at the culprit. “Staying or dropping?” He asks.

Professor Munson. It felt weird and unnatural as it rolled around in your mind, still not falling from your tongue.

“Staying,” You answer surely, “I knew what this class was before I signed up—I’m not about playing roulette with taking a college class.”

“Fair enough.” He’s leaning against his desk again, hands shoved into his slack pockets, shiny, gold watch resting on his wrist, and you can’t take it anymore, the frustration boiling from your chest

“Your tie,” You say abruptly, pointing at the material, “It’s crooked.”

Really fucking crooked.

He takes a glance down, finger slipping in the space between his tie and neck, pulling at the offense piece of clothing, loosening it until it’s snapping away.

He balls up the tie and tosses it behind me, landing messily on his desk. “I never wear those after the first day—hate them. They’re so stupid.”

“Or, you just don’t know how to tie a tie.” You point on, mouth speaking before your brain can catch up—realizing much too late that this was your professor, not a friend.

Eddie scoffs mockingly, “And I’m sure you do.” He counters, watching your face drop slightly.

You did, actually—but that wasn’t the point.

“No one ever taught me.” He tells you, “So I’m wingin’ it.”

You nod thoughtfully, surprised at how quickly you managed to embarrass yourself. “Oh.” You say simply, it’s all you can manage.

You save yourself for further humiliation by offering a wave of goodbye, breaking the uncomfortable tension that had grown between you both, excusing yourself immediately.

And if that was horrible enough, your night would be even worse.

☆.｡.:*

“The Hideout?” You ask curiously, twisting the flyer in your hand, “That place is still open?

Max snatches the paper from your hand, shoving it into the pocket of her jacket, protecting her from the biting cold of wind—the beginnings of Hawkins autumn weather creeping up on you.

It didn’t help that you were barely covered from the waist down, skirt leaving little to imagine as the slit ran high up your thigh, thankfully the long sleeve top you wore was enough to save your upper extremities.

“Nancy and Robin swear by that place—plus, they’ll be pissed if you don’t go.” Max explains in her usual ‘could care less’ tone.

The only reason she was going was because of Lucas—a boy she’d met during her first class that day, who she also invited out, despite barely knowing. You couldn’t blame her, though. Max could handle herself well enough, that was for sure.

The drive is long, further out of town than you expect—hidden on some rundown road on an empty corner, bare except for the small bar, yet the place was packed with cars.

“Okay, maybe this place isn’t as rundown as I remember,” You take note of, “or everyone really wanted to get drunk tonight.”

Either way, you were definitely heading toward the latter option, following closely after Max. It doesn’t take long for Max to be pulled away though, quickly distracted by the only reason she came here, abandoning you.

“Have fun,” You remind her, “seriously.”

You could take care of yourself, settling up at one of the empty tables before the stage, perched on the uncomfortably tall seat, ordering yourself a quick drink as a server passes you.

“Hey!” A perked up voice yells out from behind you, arms wrapping around in a gentle hug—no one had the nerve besides Robin, who quickly caught you in a fuller hug as you turned to face her. “How have you been? Where’s Max?”

“She’s busy,” You laugh, giving her a pointed look, which she catches on quickly. “Where’s Nance?”

“Right here,” Her delicate voice peaks out from behind Robin, watching as her hand sneaks into Nancy’s, squeezing firmly.

You smile to yourself, but Robin sees it, shoving you an annoyed look.

At least those two finally figured it out—almost ten years later.

“So, you two know who’s playing tonight?” You ask curiously, sipping on the beer that the server passes to you on their way through the crowd.

“Yeah, he’s an old friend—we haven’t seen him in a while, though.” They both frown at the mention of it, sharing a quiet glance. “We should’ve invited Steve, Nance.”

“He never wants to leave the house, you know that.” Nancy adds, “His kids keep him busy enough.”

And it seemed like Steve got the life he always wanted, for the most part—but it’s still somber to think about, wishing just as badly that you could’ve seen him once more.

“Maybe next time.” You offer, and both of them smile.

“I’ll have to remind him to invite you to his littlest’s party in a couple months,” Nancy says, “he misses you.”

The feedback startled all of you, pulling you from the conversation and toward the stage, light dimly over the center. The lights around the bar dimmed in contrast, adjusting everyone toward the men gathering in their places on stage.

You squinted carefully, watching the guitarist adjust the microphone, pulling it up to his height. His hair was long, unruly, and obscuring his face as he leaned forward, speaking into the microphone.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?” He asks with a decent amount of enthusiasm, receiving a hearty applause in return. “We’re Corroded Coffin.”

The name blanks in your mind, not ringing any immediate bells.

It was definitely a crowd full of fans—or family, at least. They excitement was palpable, everyone leaning on the edge of their seats.

“This is our first show in a couple years, so go easy on us.” He laughs, head flicking up to move the hair out of his face—again, he spots you almost instantly.

The intake of breath is involuntarily, getting caught in your throat. The blush that creeps up your cheeks is hot and burning, noticeable from a mile away.

Eddie fucking Munson, your college professor—of all the chances and fate in the world this is how your night was going to go?

Eddie clears his throat, immediately averting his gaze. “We’re just doing cover songs tonight—so if you’ve got a request, send it through Gareth.” He instructs, jerking his head over his shoulder.

And despite how mortifying this all feels, Eddie plays his heart out; you’ve never seen anything like it. He’s a person who expresses himself through his body and his music, clearly—thrashing wildly and putting every movement he can into his playing, bouncing on his feet. He can’t be bothered to stay still, which is a complete difference from his classroom demeanor.

From what you’ve seen, at least.

“You good?” Robin asks, nothing the ghostly look on your face.

“Yeahyeah, uh—“ You reply distantly, “The lead looked familiar, but I think it’s a coincidence.”

One hell of a fucking coincidence.

“Eddie?” They both ask simultaneously, “There’s no way.”

Eddie Munson. Again, your professor—but also, a friend of a friend, and a complete fucking stranger otherwise. You must’ve pissed someone off well enough down the line to end up in this position; the biggest dose of karma you’ve ever felt.

“Like I said—it’s probably a coincidence.” You assure them, eyes still locked on him.

“Yeah—I don’t think we started hanging out with him until after you moved schools.” Nancy supplies, further attempting to assure you.

Eddie catches another glance at you and you can’t help but down the bottle of beer in one go, immediately leaving your seat to ask for another, leaving your friends to congregate at the table.

The song ends abruptly, falling off of a long guitar solo, and you can’t even dare to look in that direction, faced shoved into the drink you gripped in your hand.

“Come here, come here,” You hear Robin call from behind you, but you know it’s not for you, another rumbling voice slipping through the many others, a weak protest, “Stop being like that.”

There really was no arguing with Robin and Eddie was smart to keep quiet, following her obediently to the bar. The hand that clasps your shoulder is light and gentle and Nancy shoots you an apologetic look as you look behind you.

“Ringin’ any bells now?” Robin asks playfully, holding her hand up under his face, like he was on display. Eddie makes a face, side eyeing her affectionately.

“No, sorry,” You lie easily, shrugging him off. Eddie seems to relax at that, half-expecting you to out both him and yourself—not that there was anything wrong, it was just another freaky coincidence, “What’s his name again?”

And really, it’s just to poke fun, the slight buzz creeping into your system.

“Eddie Munson,” Nancy replies, glancing between the both of you, “Edward, if that helps.”

Eddie rolls his eyes at that, hand held up in desperation as he called out for a drink over your shoulder, reaching around you to grab the bottle. You visibly tense at the proximity and he notices, still, he doesn’t try to move away.

This was too weird.

“Nope, still nothing.” You tell them, sticking to your story.

Robin shrugs, “Well, I should probably explain—Nancy used to babysit her when she was younger, her and Max and all those crazy little kids that we always told you about—“

It made you wince; babysitter, Nancy, kids. It was the worst sequence of words that could’ve been spoken in history, to your professor, in the middle of a bar, that he was also playing at.

“Robin,” You warn, “I’m sure he doesn’t care.”

“Nah,” Eddie shrugs, leaned beside you against the bar, metal chain clinking against the counter-top, lifting the beer to his lips leisurely, “It’s nice to meet you.”

And the smile seems forced, but his voice is steady, easy—you almost believe him.

But, then Nancy and Robin are pulled off in a different direction, catching up with another small group of friends and Eddie is staring at you.

And not secretly—very, very openly.

“I swear I didn’t—“ You start.

“I don’t usually,” He interrupts.

You both take a hard stop, looking each other down.

“You first,” He instructs, bring the drink to his lips once more, “then I’ll go.”

“I swear I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight,” You explain, “otherwise I would’ve skipped out.”

He wants to ask why, but the answer seems obvious—no one wants to see their teacher outside of school.

“I don’t usually make a habit of letting my students see me like this.” He motions to his get-up, hair loose and clothes even looser, aside from the obviously homemade jacket he wore, patches hand stitched and worn at the seams, but the weirdest part of it all—the ripped jeans. It felt out of place for someone nearing their thirties. He catches your gaze, the judgement evident. “My point exactly.”

“So, that’s why you don’t know how to tie a tie.” You challenge, taking a long sip of beer, eyebrow quirked in amusement as you swallow, cheeks puffed out by the liquid.

He scoffs softly, amused at your comeback. “We shouldn’t even be talking right now, you know that?” He points out, yet he hasn’t moved an inch, still close enough that if you decided to separate your thighs, he’d fit perfectly.

You hum quietly, “Yet, you’re still here.” Another beer down, another slipped into your hand like clockwork, throwing it back easily. “So, who’s fault is that?”

Him being the responsible adult and all, not that it really mattered here. This would be a level playing field outside of any other circumstance.

“Wait—can I ask a personal question?” And maybe it was the alcohol talking.

“No—“ He answers quickly, but your brain bypasses it.

“How old are you?” You ask curiously, “You look too young to be a professor.”

Eddie looks stunned, affected by your forwardness, but he takes it in stride. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment—I’m twenty nine, a couple years older than Nancy and Robin.”

You don’t press on the additional information, but nod thoughtfully, taking another quick sip of your beer.

“Sorry—it was bugging me. I have a bad problem with filtering my thoughts.” You admit sheepishly, cheeks flushed from the alcohol, fiddling with the flimsy zipper on your skirt.

“Clearly,” Eddie laughs, bringing the bottle to his lips slowly, stopping just as his lips pressed the rim, “Are you even old enough to be drinking?”

“Are you going to kick me out if I’m not?” You challenge playfully, Eddie doesn’t bite, looking you down accusingly.

It was as if he suddenly shifted back into teacher mode, judging your choices and feeling the need to scold you.

“I’m twenty one,” You tell him, “don’t have a fucking stroke over it.”

You don’t know why Eddie’s eyes shift, scanning full body, like he’s trying to take all of you in—both of your contrasting styles outside of school are a welcomed surprise; he doesn’t really expect it from you. But, you could say the same for him.

“Wasn’t gonna,” He assures you, nursing the beer near his mouth, forearms leaned against the bar now as he looks toward you, eyes catching the way your fingers fiddled with the label on the bottle, “you cold?”

Your leg crosses over the other, goosebumps riddling your skin—it’s like he’s a mind reader, the entrance door of the bar swinging open, a cold blast of air spreading throughout. “Not really.” You lie, gripping the end of your skirt to shift it down.

You could’ve been more practical, shown up in jeans and some worn out band shirt, but you wanted to look nice—feel cute and dressed up for once, was that a crime?

“Hey, there you are,” Max calls from behind you, scattering toward you with a wide-eyed Lucas in tow, “so you met Eddie?”

You turn in your seat, staring the fiery redhead down, a smile plastered on her freckle covered face.

“You too?” You ask incredulously, glancing toward Eddie, who seemed rather unfazed by it all now. “What the hell?”

“He used to live across from me, back in high school,” Max explains, which makes sense.

You moved after middle school, leaving most of Hawkins in your rear view, aside from the occasional letters to Max—both of you swore that despite the distance, college was your nonnegotiable; both of you applied, both of you got accepted, it was some sort of divine miracle, but neither of you questioned it.

“Small world,” Eddie shrugs from beside you, finishing off the last sip of his beer, “you staying out of trouble, Red?”

“Probably not,” She replies honestly, before turning to you sheepishly, “—do you think Robin will give you a ride home?”

“Max,” You groan, her look switching from hesitant to pleading, “fine—whatever, I’ll talk to Robin.”

“I love you,” She says endearingly, wrapping you into a quick forceful hug, nearly knocking you from your chair, “I owe you one.”

“Uh huh,” You reply sarcastically, waving her away, “See you tomorrow.”

When you turn, Eddie is slapping a fresh bill on the counter-top, returning his chained wallet back to his pocket.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you Monday.”

Saying it makes it even weirder.

“I won’t tell anyone.” You assure him, seeing the way his eyes catch yours, almost thankful. He doesn’t have to say it—he didn’t take you for the type to brag, but still, it’s a comforting confession. “I promise.”

The last part feels like too much, but Eddie smiles regardless, adjusting his jacket over his shoulders, preparing for the crisp, cold air that awaits him.

Robin, find Robin. Your brain scrambled, searching around for your friend—or Nancy, but neither of them are anywhere inside of the bar.

You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

“Everything okay?” Eddie asks softly, pulling the hair caught under the lapel of his jacket.

“I think they left,” You frown slightly, preparing yourself to walk several blocks until the nearest bus station, feet already sore and achy from the uncomfortable heels you wore, “Robin and Nance.”

And Eddie has the internal battle with himself for at least half a minute, weighing the odds of how uncomfortable this could be, or how creepy it may come off, but he wasn’t going to leave you high and dry—he wasn’t raised that way.

“Where am I taking you?” He asks suddenly, swinging his keys into his palm.

“Huh?” There was no way you were taking a ride from your teacher, of all people. “—I’m fine, really. I just need to walk far enough to the bus stop.”

“In those?” Eddie asks pointedly, staring down at the heels that hugged your feet like a vice grip, already sore from only a couple hours of use. “It’s not a big deal—are you going back to campus?”

You nod hesitantly.

Eddie motions toward the door and you follow obediently—your feet could thank you later. You knew there was no harm in a ride home, either, Eddie was far from the normal sketchy men around Hawkins, but it didn’t feel right. It felt like keeping a secret from your parents and doing something that had persistently told you not to, or how often the school system looked down on relations with staff outside of school, no matter the level or severity. It seemed that Eddie was hoping you’d keep this to yourself—he was counting on it.

☆.｡.:*

“Did you enjoy the music at least?” Eddie asks halfway through the drive, one hand gripping the steering wheel while the other fishes for his pack of cigarettes; a bad habit he’d yet to break.

“I mean—they were cover songs,” You shrugged, “Metallica is alright, but I prefer Bon Jovi and Quiet Riot—“

“Are you shitting on Metallica, right now?” Eddie asks, shocked by the admission. He manages to wiggle a cigarette out with one hand, tossing the box toward the middle console, “Do you mind?”

Part of you wants to say yes, just to be difficult, but you shake your head. He flicks his lighter opening, lighting the end of the cigarette until it burns a bright amber, ashes falling from the tip.

“You dress like you’re stuck in the eighties, dude.” Eddie seems offended by the comment, but takes it in stride.

“Says the lady who still listens to Bon Jovi.” Eddie sharks, pulling the cigarette from his lips, smoke billowing from his nose as he breathes, “

You hate how nice it is to watch, his soft lips pursing into a tight line. One more hit at him and he’d probably fail you out of spite, but you do it anyway.

“Says the guy still singing eighties cover songs.” Eddie winces at the jab, flicking away the ash from the cigarette, held out in the air as he searches for his retort.

“So you hated it?” Is all his brain can muster at a time like this, brain hazy from the amount of beers he consumed—you could say the same for yourself, the alcohol buzz is still ever apparent—you wouldn’t have ended up in a situation like this while stone cold sober, that’s for sure.

“No,” You reply honestly. The music was good, the performance was even better, but still—it seemed he was searching for your approval, like it would make all the difference, “but it’s the mid nineties, you need to get with the times.”

Eddie scoffs offensively, a few more puffs before he’s rubbing the cigarette to its untimely demise, pulling into the quiet campus.

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” He says, coming to a stop, “—I hope this is close enough, the last thing I need is someone catching me dropping you off.”

Then he shouldn’t have offered a ride, which was his first mistake of many.

It’s offensive how handsome he looks under the dim lights radiating from the inside of his van—an odd choice for a teacher of his salary, but it still makes sense, somehow.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, sir.” You retort, throwing the last bit in for fun—he tenses again, visibly. He doesn’t correct you, though, which is even more difficult to understand.

He offers a simple wave, friendly and polite, then he’s gone and halfway across the campus before you can even process what happened.

It also doesn’t help that the first thing you see in your dreams that night is his face—ungodly in the way he worshiped your body, from head to toe; it was definitely the alcohol talking.

☆.｡.:*

Monday drags more than you expect, having nursed your hangover during the weekend, it felt like an aftershock was trying to overtake you, your focus lacking. It wasn’t unlike you.

You replay the conversation with Eddie in your head a few times that weekend, realizing that even through your drunken haze, Eddie was not attempting to be teacherly toward you—he was friendly, a natural conversationalist, it felt wrong.

It felt even worse when you fell asleep, his head stuck between your thighs as you dreamed that night, “She’s so pretty,” His voice is faded, muffled—like he’s stuck in a tunnel and too far away, “fucking soaking wet, too.”

And it feels too real as he licks a broad stripe up your cunt, moaning obscenely as his face is coated in your wetness, the tip of his nose bumping against your clit—it’s too much for you to process.

“Good afternoon,” Eddie’s voice carries through the door to his classroom, satchel and coffee in hand, looking just as worse for wear. His hair is tied back in a loose bun, no tie today, and his slacks look like they’re been worn for a week straight, wrinkles and all, “nice to see the class has downsized.”

It has, nearly half of the original class is gone—which really, it was better for you. You couldn’t focus in large classes and it felt less personal, more disconnected than you liked.

Eddie tries desperately to keep his energy up during the duration of the lesson, but he’s lacking on all fronts—maybe he had a rough weekend?

When he hands out the first assignment near the end of class, he stops by your desk, leaning on the railing to speak to the entirety of the class, “And don’t freak out—this is just a basis to see where you heads are at in terms of what music you like, how it makes you feel, it’s just a soft introduction into some of the stuff we’ll be covering over the semester.”

It’s a list of various songs, bands, genres—a mix of things dating back to the early fifties, up until more recently. “Go out, rent some of this if you’ve never heard of it, and write what you feel—that’s it. Easy enough?”

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge you most of the class, which is expected, but disappointing. He seems preoccupied, distracted, clearly bothered by something. But, it wasn’t your problem—the only focus you had now was your course work, which was the first thing you started on that night; a very giddy Max rummaging through your dorm room as background noise, so disorganized it could drive you insane.

“He drove you here?” She asks.

“Yes—but you can’t say anything, Max. I’m serious.”

You didn’t have anything to worry about, you knew that.

“I didn’t even know he taught here—or that he was even a professor. I mean, I know he finally graduated but—“

“Finally?” You ask curiously, swiveling in your chair to face her fully, interest fully piqued.

“He had a rough time in high school—he didn’t graduate until he was twenty, I think.” She explains, busy hands now stopped in their tracks. “He’s been through a lot.”

Your eyebrows raise in question, hoping Max would spill everything she knew—you couldn’t help but be curious about him, even if he was your professor.

“He probably doesn’t even know I go here,” She laughs slightly, “His mom and dad were never in the picture, though—at least I never saw them, it’s always been him and his uncle. He hung out with Nancy, Steve, and Robin a lot—closer to when he was graduating, they’ve stayed good friends, I guess.”

You nod slowly, absorbing the information.

“Is he mean?” Max asks randomly and you almost laugh, “My professors are the worst.”

“He’s fine,” You shrug, “It’s kinda nice that he’s not such a dick, you know?”

“What does he teach again?”

“Musical therapy?” You respond, wondering if that would surface any other tidbits of information.

“Oh—that kinda makes sense. He was always listening to music, then he just disappeared after graduation, but his uncle always talked about how he was helping people, doing something he really liked—I just never bothered him about it.”

There’s a long silence before Max can’t help herself, perching herself on the surface closest to you, pens scrambling to the floor as she takes a seat on the edge of your shared desk.

“What did you guys talk about?”

“The weather,” You say flatly, not receiving any type of reaction from her, “—-just music, that’s it.”

“But, babe, you love music.” Max reminds, like it wasn’t painfully obvious.

“And—he’s my professor, it’s fucking weird.” You explain, but even Max doesn’t believe you. “What—why are you looking at me like that?”

“You two are so similar,” She laughs, “It’s freaky.”

“Maxine—what are you trying to imply?”

“Nothing,” She shrugs, hoping from the desk, “—remember that I’ll be your maid of honor at the wedding, though. We pinky swore.”

“He’s my professor, Max.” You stress again, Max smiles wide, annoying you further.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, right?” Max asks, realizing that you’d used the same playful jab at him the night before.

“What?” The coincidence was uncanny.

“Eddie used to tell me that whenever I tried to justify doing something I wasn’t supposed to—I’ve grown, obviously,” That’s not entirely believable, but you keep your mouth shut, “the saying stuck with me—it’s kinda fun to use.”

“Whatever—did you get the music I asked about?” You ask, impatiently switching the topic to something less scandalous.

“Everything was spoken for,” Max explains, trying to let you down gently, “I really tried—but I guess everyone in that class had the same idea on where to go, unless you want to take a trip to the store and buy them—“

And it dawns on you, Eddie must have some sort of music collection, “Wait—what time is it?”

Max takes a quick glimpse at the alarm clock on her nightstand, “A quarter past five, why?”

Still open for office hours—you prayed silently, despite your lack of religion, hoping that he was still in his classroom.

“Give me a ride.”

Max doesn’t question it, being the best friend she is.

☆.｡.:*

“I’m busy,” He says before you can even knock on the door, your loud ascending footsteps giving you away, “come back in the morning.”

You peek through the window of the door anyways, seeing a perfectly relaxed Eddie reclined at his desk, feet propped up as he jotted something down in a book, tongue poked out in focus.

“Uh Professor…Munson,” It felt foreign and weird, “I just had a question.”

His demeanor changes on a dime at the sight of you, unbusying himself completely. It’s a little hysterical, but endearing nonetheless. It makes your stomach flutter at the sight, scrambling to button his shirt higher, seem more professional, not that you hadn’t already seen him outside of work.

The door creaks open, his head popping through as you back away, “What’s going on?” He asks, surprised that anyone would dare to bother him outside of normal class hours. It doesn’t take you long to realize that he only mentioned the office hours out of courtesy, he didn’t actually expect anyone to bother him.

“I was trying to work on your assignment—“ His eyes softened, and it made you flinch, feeling exposed, “I don’t really have the money to buy any of the music and everything was already rented out—-so I wasn’t sure what to do.”

“Oh,” He wasn’t sure what to expect but he finds himself opening the door wider, welcoming you inside, “Yeah—a few students raided my shelf before class was over but I’m sure there’s some left.”

“Thanks,” You reply shyly, squeezing beside him, watching as he lingered by the door still, hands shoved into fists in his pockets, “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, sir—“

“You can call me Eddie—here, at least.” And that definitely doesn’t feel appropriate, but if he’s insisting, well…

“Sorry, it just feels…strange, I guess.” It’s not how you wanted to describe it, but it’s the only word that comes to mind. “I can’t imagine how weird it is running into your students outside of class.”

“Probably as weird as it feels running into your teacher,” He adds playfully, lightening the mood. It’s nice that he’s not so bothered by all of it, “Oh—I’ve got some Elvis in there, a lot of classic rock. I’m not sure about the newer stuff, though.”

“Max has some of it.” You comment without thinking, sifting through the box of music, picking and choosing as you went.

“Max?”

“She’s—she’s my roommate here.” You answer quietly, unable to meet his eyes as he walks closer, leisurely making his way around his desk.

“I guess I should’ve put that together,” He says, taking a moment to examine the sweater you’d shoved on, “You two share a closet?”

“Among other things.” You smile, grasping the stack of Cd's in your hand, “How did you know?”

You share a glance down at the faded sweater, reading off the name of some random skate shop back in rural Hawkins, a place you’ve never stepped foot inside of.

“I got that for Red on her sixteenth birthday, before I left.”

Eddie’s frowning now, nearly unnoticeable, but you see the way his mouth creases, eyes turned down. “It’s her favorite,” You say, in an attempt to make the mood less dark, “but I always steal it from her—she’s let me take residency over it at this point.”

“It looks nice,” Eddie says suddenly, feeling the slip up as it slides off his tongue, rambling even further as he says, “on you—I mean, it’s a nice sweater—that’s why I bought it.”

You laugh softly, bottom lip jutting out as your mouth curls into a smile. “Thanks, Eddie.”

He scratched at his temple, ringed finger shining against the light refracting from the lamp on his desk. You’ve never noticed it before—or them, since his hand was adorned with three, that you could see.

“Hey, those are cool—“ You point out, finger pressed in the direction of his upheld hand. He stops, views his hand, almost like he’s forgotten he was wearing them, “I’ve noticed them before.”

“I try not to wear them during class hours, the administration thinks it’s unprofessional.” The nature of the rings, not the fact that he wore them—if he had a wedding ring it wouldn’t matter, but the thought of marriage made Eddie want to vomit.

“Fuck ‘em.” You say crudely, shoulder shrugged In indifference.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open slightly at the sudden outburst, amusement flooding his face, “I’m still your professor—probably should keep that type of language to a minimum.”

You snort at his indication that he had any type of hold over what you do—he couldn’t be further from the point.

“Or what?” You say challengingly, “This isn’t high school—it’s not like you can give me detention or tell my parents.”

“I am the one handling your grades.” He counters, hip leaned against the edge of his desk. Your free hand travels to your waist, slipping underneath the sweater to rest against the skin.

“You don’t intimidate me—I hope you know that.” You remind him carefully, eyes narrowing in his direction. “The other’s are terrified of you, but that shit doesn’t work on me.”

And he should know better—you shouldn’t even be here and he definitely should be flirting with a student, if you could call it that. Was this flirting? Was this crossing the line? He’s studied body language for a long time, through the process of his treatment of people, and he can’t help but notice how relaxed you seem, almost enjoying the back and forth.

“You should go,” He says quickly, avoiding any further lines being blurred or crossed or misconstrued; you were his student and it was unprofessional, “my office hours are closing soon.”

“Uh huh.” You nod slowly, adjusting the stack of music under your arm, watching the way Eddie’s fingers drum against the desk impatiently, like he can’t wait to get you out of there.

If he was really that bothered, he could’ve said something.

“Thanks again, professor.” You say with grandeur, motioning to the stack of Cd's, “It’s greatly appreciated.”

Eddie tries to ignore the small sliver of skin that shows underneath your slightly raised top that was no longer obscured by your hand, almost like you’re doing it on purpose.

Which, yes, you absolutely were.

You slip by him silently, avoiding the way his eyes follow you. It felt predatorial, but not uncomfortable—and that’s what you hated about it.

He didn’t look at you as a student—he looked at you like something else; you couldn’t put your finger on it.

Eddie turns on the heels of his shoes, “I expect those back tomorrow,” He warns, but there’s no sense of actual ramifications behind it.

You don’t answer fully, a small nod that Eddie doesn’t quite notice. He grabs the sleeve of your sweater gently, his fingertips pressing against your covered arm. “I mean it.”

You look at the hand that gripped your arm for far too long, Eddie still holding on just as hard. “I know.” You appease him, “And if I don’t—you know where to find me.”

The glance to your desk is silent, but done in unison.

“Wanna let go now, sir?”

Eddie hates the way his dick twitches under the material of his corduroy slacks, releasing the bunch of material from his grip. You half-expect him to scold you for the remark, but he’s speechless, for once in his life.

“Sorry,” He apologizes, feeling like he’s made things uncomfortable, but it’s so far from that—he has no idea, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“On time, hopefully.”

It’s just another playful comment, but it has Eddie gripping his thigh from the inside of his pocket, muscles tensed in frustration.

You leave with a wordless smile that’s burned into Eddie’s mind for the rest of mankind—and it’s definitely not the first thing he thinks about when he slips his boxers down his thighs that night, cock still half-hard from earlier in the evening.

☆.｡.:*

He becomes a permanent fixture in your dreams as the weeks grow on, unbeknownst to him—not that he can say much for himself either, annoyed by the finite nerve you have to walk into his classroom, skirt pulled halfway up your waist, ass barely peeking out of the bottom of the pleated material.

He knows it’s wrong and going against all of the rules set it place for this very reason, but he can’t help himself. So, he suffers in silence—not that it was anything new to him, he’s done it his entire life; under different circumstances and situations perhaps, but the basics of it still remained.

“Fuck—spread your legs,” His voice is hushed, quiet against the skin of your leg as he sucks a deep purple mark into the skin, jerking at the touch of cold metal, the outside of his rings grazing your thighs, “wanna taste you.”

It feels too real—you toss and turn in your sleep restlessly most nights, dreaming about your professor with his hands around your thighs and his mouth buried deep into your cunt.

And with little to no interaction during class, aside from the occasional glance in your direction, he kept his distance—which wasn’t a surprise, he had no idea.

He had no idea that his student was practically pining after him. It doesn’t help that you’ve seen him outside of the classroom, dress downed and free of an inhibitions or rules; it was a special kind of torture.

It’s late October when Eddie speaks to you directly, alone—he’s got most of the class set up on various different instruments of their choosing, allowing them to feel them out and play freely, and somehow—by some fucked up fate, you get stuck with a six string and not a clue how to play.

Fake playing wasn’t working, Eddie could spot it from a mile away. You don’t chance the glance up at him, but the squeak of his shoes is enough warning, bracing for whatever remark was going to be sent your way.

“Have you ever played before?” He says instead and your eyes immediately shoot up to him, all previous restraint thrown out the window.

“No, not really.” You say truthfully, watching as Eddie pulled up a chair in front of you, facing the back of it in your direction, thigh swinging over the side—his jeans tightening with the action, along with your thighs. You really needed to get your shit together.

“Here,” His hands come out to rest over yours, adjusting your left hand over the base of the guitar, your right hand around the neck, “This is A,” He presses your finger over the cord, instructing your other hand to strum.

It’s slightly out of tune, but the guitar seems old—probably provided by the college rather than Eddie himself, “That’s good,” He praises calmly, “Now try playing an A sharp,” He guides your hand further down the neck, the warm, rough skin of his hand covering your own. He feels tough and worn and you notice the small cuts around his fingertips at this proximity, breath catching as his hand grasps around the wrist that was actively strumming the guitar, “it’s really complicated at first, there’s a lot to learn.”

“Clearly,” You say, forcing down the smile that threatened to break through, “how long have you played?”

He seems surprised that you cared or even tried to ask.

“Since I was about twelve, probably.” He answers honestly, “More than half my life.”

Eddie still hasn’t moved his hands, either—he can’t be bothered. It doesn’t look as incriminating as you thought, but still, you knew. He helps you play through a few more notes until he’s gotten you to the point of playing a small, five second tone—but it’s all you can really manage.

“It takes a while.” He assures you, not that you wanted to pick up a guitar again after this.

“Why don’t you play?” You ask sweetly, smiling flashing with nothing but devious intent, handing the guitar over toward your professor.

“Nono—I’m really not—“ He protests, setting the guitar back on its stand beside you.

“Not what? That good?” You ask curiously, he was worse at lying to himself than he was to you.

“Are we forgetting how I saw you play that night?” You ask quietly, nothing how his gaze lingered with yours, “Because if that wasn’t you then—“

He gives you a muted look of warning, wanting you to drop the topic of conversation, but you can’t be bothered. He wasn’t in charge of you, not really.

“You can play a Dio song blindfolded, I bet,” You point out, still keeping enough of a hushed town that only Eddie can hear, “Your eyes were closed that entire set.”

“It was my first time back home in a while,” He defends lamely, “It helps with the nerves.”

“I thought it was really good.”

Eddie’s eyes light up in a way you can’t ignore, bordering on shock and adoration, it’s the first real smile you’ve seen from him.

The end of class comes quicker than you want it to, forced to pack your belongings back into your bag in a rush, everyone’s already managed to file out before you can even think of zipping your bag up.

“Hey,” Eddie calls out, every other student already long gone, “here, take this.”

It’s a flyer, similar to the one Max shoved into your hands a few weeks prior.

A different bar, same band; one night only.

“I’m probably breaking a thousand rules by giving you that,” He explains carefully, “but maybe you and Max could come out and watch us play—tell her I’ll even throw in some free Kate Bush.”

Your smile is warm, folding the flyer and stuffing it into your pocket. “I told you—I’m not the type to blab, Eddie.”

You hate how easy it feels to say his name in such a setting, still dressed up in his ridiculous attempt at seeming studious and professional. You knew he hated it, he knew it too.

“I can ask her—if not, I’ll still show.” You tell him.

He was only inviting Max to be courteous, but that wasn’t up for him to decide whether or not you actually brought her along. Either way, he was appreciative. He knew that a lot of the support he received back home was mostly done out of obligation and sympathy, but with—it felt real. He didn’t know you, he didn’t have anything to prove to you, and more importantly, you were genuine and honest; he hated that you took up this class. Hated it.

“It’s not a big deal if you can’t.” He offers as an out.

There was no way you were going to miss it, not with how Eddie was looking at you now; despite the circumstance, it was so blatantly obvious to you how badly you wanted him.

“Eddie, I’ll be there.” You assure him once more.

And if the smile that spreads over his face isn’t something worth worshiping, you’d surely find something else.

☆.｡.:*

The bar is small, on the complete opposite side of town—but Max still offers to drive you, but it’s definitely not for your own benefit. She hasn’t shut up about Eddie since you’d told her the situation, the weird looks he gives you, and the horrible filthy dreams you’ve been having; sans the super embarrassing details. She gets it—it’s incredibly amusing to her, but she gets it.

“You sure you don’t want to stay?” You asks, fingers tapping nervously against the ripped denim of your jeans, frayed material pulled between your fingertips. “He did invite you.”

“Babe, I’m doing you a favor.” Max interjects, halfhearted smirk on her face.

“He’s my teacher—for the last time,” You begin, beyond desperation, the words falling from your tongue weren’t even believable to your own ears, “I’m not trying to fuck him, Max.”

“I did not say anything about fucking him,” She laughs amusingly, turning into the parking lot of the bar, “—it’s just not as weird as you’re making it out to be. I’ve known Eddie for a long time.”

“You’re really missing the point.” You say, rubbing the frustration on your face away with your hands, eyebrows furrowing in annoyance.

“Oh whatever, don’t tell me you suddenly have some strict moral compass,” Max replies flippantly, “you want to screw him and you know it.”

The suspense is enough of an answer. There was no lying to Max, she knew just about every deepest, darkest secret you carried.

She pulls to a stop outside the entrance, turning toward you carefully, “Also—I can’t pick you up so you’re gonna have to ask him for a ride. I love you.” She rambled it off in one breath, barely giving you time to process. “See you tomorrow?”

It’s the one fight you decide not to pick with her, because for some reason, you know it’s for your own good.

“Hey—you made it!” The familiar voice calls from behind you—Eddie, guitar case in hand, the rest of his band mates in tow. “Red.” He acknowledges, offering her a nod. “There’s parking in the back.”

“Oh—I’m not staying,” She shouts from the driver’s side, “take care of her or I’ll murder you, Munson.”

Max is pulling off before you have any last fleeting chance to run, leaving both you and Eddie at a loss for words.

“Pulled a fast one, didn’t she?” Eddie asks after a moment, gathering by your side, following you into the bar. “She’s sneaky as hell, I’ll give her that.”

“Yeah, you could say that.” You huff softly, watching your step as you crossed the threshold, hit in the face with the smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer.

“A beaut, isn’t she?” Eddie asks sarcastically, but despite that, the bar still garnered a decent amount of attention, packed to the brim with older gentlemen—nothing like bars near campus.

“I think I found your target audience,” You joke lightly, catching the smirk that crosses Eddie’s face as you glance over your shoulder. “I’ll fit right in.”

Eddie slaps a twenty into your hand, “Here, drinks on me—since I forced you here,” You look at him reluctantly, “I don’t want to hear it.”

“I didn’t plan on drinking tonight.” You insist, forcing the bill back into his hand, “I’ll be okay.”

“You sure?” He asks, eyeing you carefully, like he’s trying to find a hint or tell, something to figure out what exactly your mind was fighting against—which right now, it was the fact that Eddie looked ridiculous with eyeliner, yet, still criminally attractive.

It’s exactly why you shouldn’t have come tonight, because whatever could happen—you weren’t sure if you had it in you to shut down.

You nod with finality. Eddie takes the money back reluctantly, stuffing it into his front pocket. He feels terrible that you have to sit there, alone—all to watch a shitty cover band play a few songs.

But to you, it was worth it.

You sit and wait, forcing away the bartender a few times until he finally gets the message, leaving you be. It’s quiet, aside from the hum of laughter and idle conversation, Eddie and his group setting up silently onstage—that impending feeling in your gut expanding further as you watch him move around, guitar strap swung over his neck, watching shamelessly as he adjusts the instrument against his body.

He catches your eyes then, sending you a cheeky smile that has you face burning on the spot—at this point, you care less about your professional relationship, if it could even be considered that.

Eddie plays with all the gusto you expect, belting out lyric after lyric on his performance high; it’s unlike anything you’ve ever witnessed. It’s hard not to compare him to his classroom demeanor, more restrained and relaxed—it was forced, that was easy to tell. But this—this was Eddie, unafraid and free to behave how he pleased, it was unfair how attractive he was, both in looks and personality. It felt like you’d know him longer than just a few weeks; months maybe? Years?

It was like hanging out with an old friend, discovering new and old things about one another; you’d spill your heart to him at a moment’s notice if he asked—and that’s why this felt so dangerous.

☆.｡.:*

“How was it?” Eddie asks as he rounds the corner, still slightly out of breath and face covered in a sheen of sweat. You hand him a napkin in silence and he laughs, but accepts the offer.

“Good,” You smile honestly, “I really enjoyed the gradual crescendo from Holy Diver into Living After Midnight—“

Eddie could kiss you on the spot, which is such a startling thought that it stops all thinking completely—you were absolutely too good to be true, it was a constant reminder every time you spoke, making him fight with this taboo feeling more and more every day.

“Do you still need a ride home?” He asks suddenly, interrupting your waterfall of compliments, “I was going to head out already.”

“Well, considering Max left me stranded,” You say with an empty bitterness, knowing that her attentions were mostly good, “yes, I do.”

Eddie nods a silent direction—and just like the first night, you follow without question.

☆.｡.:*

The foot that isn’t pressed on the gas pedal is shaking insistently, leg bouncing against the leather of Eddie’s seat, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. He can hear you humming, mumbling the song on the radio to yourself, another classic—one of Eddie’s favorites, and he really can’t help himself anymore.

It was just a small, innocent indulgence. Who could it really hurt? You were both consenting, capable adults—and the worst thing you could do was turn him down, which Eddie really hoped wasn’t the case, but he was beyond caring about norms and rules, driven by the pure fact that he just wanted—wanted you, in any sense of the word.

“What are you doing?” You ask curiously, watching as Eddie searched idly through his stack of music, somehow still managing his focus on the road.

“Changing the song,” He comments simply, pushing the disc into the player—the soft synth of the song pushing through the speakers of his van, “do you know it?”

“Corey Hart, right?” You ask, taking a wild guess. You’d only heard the song once, but it was still catchy enough that it stuck around in your brain, “I didn’t picture you as the type.”

“You’d be surprised.” He comments oddly, turning the volume up slightly.

He notices the humming again, the small head bop along to the beat. “You like it.”

It’s more of a statement, rather than a question. You catch the side of his face, the small glint in his eye as he focuses back on the road.

“That's presumptuous of you,” You retort, hands twisting in your lap, “it’s alright, I guess.”

“Mind if I do a little study?” He asks hesitantly, breath catching in your throat for half a second.

“Of me?” You ask with a laugh, “I mean—if you want?”

“Your heart is racing, for one,” Eddie points out slyly, watching the rapid rise and fall of your chest as the beat picked up, chorus running through the silence that filled the air, “and you’re squeezing your hands.”

“Okay, genius,” You remark, “You’ve got eyes, good for you.”

He’s not really using his degree in this situation, it’s more of an innocent observation of the already underlying tension that Eddie couldn’t help but notice—the obvious body language giving you away. The song was just a secret favorite of his, but you didn’t need to know that, not yet.

“Mind I make one?” You ask, “An observation, I mean.”

What was the harm in it anyways? Eddie nods for you to continue.

“You’ve been shaking your leg since we left.” You point out, the bouncing coming to an abrupt stop, “and I’ve never seen you do that—ever.”

“It’s the after performance buzz.” He replies cooly, but you can’t be bothered to believe it. “It’s not that unusual.”

“Eddie—you’re making that up,” You tell him, eyeing burning into the side of his face, “what’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah—why are you lying?” It’s a bold question to ask, heart fluttering in your chest. But, the way he looks at you has your legs crossing in frustration, squeezing together to relieve that ache growing between your legs.

“So, you want to pretend I didn’t notice that either?” He asks, eyeing the full expanse of your body before stopping on your legs, still firmly crossed in the seat, hands white knuckling each other under the long sleeves of your shirt. “Uncross your legs.”

“What? No.” You scoff, offended by his forwardness for a brief moment.

Eddie slips his hand under your knee wordlessly, prying your legs apart. You can’t help but look at him as if he’s lost his fucking mind—that doesn’t stop your legs from following his order. It made the ache that much worse.

“Don’t,” He warns hesitantly, the small shift in your leg giving you away, “it’s not gonna help.”

“Help what?” You reply dumbly, “I can’t cross my legs? Is that a crime?”

Eddie’s gaze lingers for far too long, noticing the flush of your chest and the way it creeps up your cheeks—they felt like they were on fire. In the midst of all the back and forth, it’s hard to keep focus on the main fact at play—teacher, student, your mind screaming, wrong.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

“I can help.” He makes a subtle nod toward you.

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was talking about. You were very well aware of the issue. You want to weigh your options, come up with some stupid reason to wiggle out if the situation—but nothing comes to mind. The way Eddie’s fingers tighten around the steering wheel has you digging your nails into your own thigh—you’re going to cave, you can feel it.

“Eddie.” You warn, watching as his hands lingers toward the gear shift, resting against the cracked and worn down plastic covering.

“Our secret, right?” He teases, like this whole situation wasn’t built on secrecy. You nod willingly, legs spreading a few inches wider. His fingers trail the seam of your jeans, stopping on the button, popping it open with deft fingers. “Move this way—yeah, there.”

And when his fingers breach the seam of your underwear, your mind sings a soft praise of release, watching as his hand forces its way into the tight space, leaving him no other option but to cup your cunt with his full palm.

There was no turning back now.

His middle finger drags through your folds testingly, matching the slow undulating beat of the song, like this was a game to him. You have no idea how to handle your hovering hands, too afraid to touch him, so they wrap around the headrest behind your head, fingers gripped tightly together.

Your legs spread wider, giving him better access—you were rutting into his hand at the shift of position, feeling that familiar tingle of pleasure as it shot through your body, mixed with the feeling of a bite of forbidden fruit, avoiding Eddie’s heated gaze as he shifted between you and the road.

It feels reckless and stupid, but you can’t find the courage to stop.

The first dip of his finger is like heaven, feeling unfamiliar after so long, despite how often you touched yourself, you couldn’t remember the last time there had ever been anyone else but you—not since the first summer after you graduated; freshly eighteen and naive, letting a much older man have you how he wanted—it’s uncanny, the situation your in now. But this, it doesn’t feel like that.

“Fuck—“ Your voice catches, stomach clenching at the curl of his middle finger as it slipped inside of you and back out, pace so insufferably slow, “—need more.”

“There she is,” He smiles to himself, confidence oozing in his tone, “—shit, you’re such a liar.”

It takes you a minute to realize that he’s not talking to you at all—which sends you down a different wave of emotions, pussy clenching around his lone finger, gasping at the way he curls it against the soft walls of your cunt, searching desperately for something out of reach.

“How long has it been like this?” He asks curiously.

Since the moment you met him, is what you want to say.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You reply breathlessly, back arching away from the seat, cunt pressing further against his hand as he slips a second finger inside.

At the lie, Eddie stops without warning, and it gives you a headache, that slow build of pleasure deflating immediately.

“The truth,” He says, though, it’s more of a demand, “tell me.”

And fuck, if you weren’t putty in this man’s rough, calloused hands.

“Since earlier,” You reply, rewarded with the soft brush of a fingertip over your clit, you quickly unzip your jeans to allow for more room, “when I saw you onstage.”

Eddie’s groan in response tells you everything you need to hear. He slows to a stop at a red light and it’s the first real glance you share with him the entire evening, both of you seeing straight through each other, bodies overran with pleasure.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” He says, and it seems a little late for a realization like that, you can’t help but laugh, “what—you think it’s funny?”

“You’re the one with your hand down my pants, sir.” You retort, earning a disciplined squeeze as he shoves his two middle most fingers back into your cunt, molding around him like glue.

“Sorry—I know you hate that word,” You say playfully, “But do you mind if I use it? Or, do you prefer professor?”

It was your turn to play into the guilt he was feeling, though it didn’t seem to be concerning if he still had his hands shoved down your pants so willingly.

“Shut up,” He forces out, swerving slightly at the way you cunt clenched around his fingers, insides fluttering as he curves his fingers wildly, grazing that sweet spot deep inside of you, “don’t call me that.”

His hands were larger than yours, making up for all the work you missed out on.

“Too far?” You ask teasingly, knowing that was the least of your worries; all moral lines crossed, blurred, forgotten about entirely. Eddie’s fingers pull back to graze over the sensitive nub, rubbing in small, leisurely circles, “Fuck that—that feels—“

Your moan is so unashamed that it surprises you, hips bucking up into his hands as you nearly leapt out of the seat.

Eddie can’t take the suffering much longer, pulling off onto the winding side road, tucked into a nest of trees. He unbuckles his seatbelt, allowing fuller access as he turns toward you, switching his hands with practiced ease—you couldn’t even open your eyes, face drawn up in pleasure. You knew the moment you looked at him you were done for.

“Look at me,” His voice echoes alongside the melodic tune of the song, his fingers matching the catchy beat—the damn music aficionado he was, toying with you, fingers strumming against your swollen clit like the strings of his guitar, “—I said, look at me.”

Your body works for you, eyes opening on instinct—his voice was rough, authoritative, leaving no room for argument.

“Good girl—It’s what you wanted, right?” He asks with a semblance of a smirk on his face, “It’s why you came tonight?”

You laugh weakly at his words, double entendre, unable to go unnoticed, “As far as I’m concerned, no one’s came tonight.”

His eyes darken, shifting toward your cunt, covered by your clothes, his wrist poking out above the thin material of your underwear.

“You can stop—stop acting like this is my fault,” You hiccup, gasping as he applies heavy pressure to your clit, rubbing steadily, hating how shameful it feels as your cunt clenches around nothing, wishing his fingers were still buried inside you. “Please—fuck, I just—“

All self restraint forgotten, you hand searches for his face, finding its way into his curls, pulling gently at the root, the softest hint of a grunt falling from his lips—the first noticeable sign all evening that he was even slightly affected by this—by you.

And maybe you’ve gone too far, the idea of touching him is where things go wrong, but you can’t be bothered to hold yourself together anymore.

“It’s okay,” He assures you, leaning over the middle console, hand working quickly against your cunt, moaning loudly into the confines of the car, ashamed at how wrecked you sound, “I like it.”

He must’ve noticed your expression, lingering on his face—you could do anything and he’d fall to his knees.

“It hurts—“ You plead, begging for release, “—please?”

It sounds too pretty coming from you, deciding that putting you out of your misery was easier than watching you suffer, on the verge of a mind-blowing orgasm, Eddie’s hands feeling so much better than your own, or anyone that’s touched you before.

Your mouth hangs open on a wordless gasp, eyes squeezing shut at the force at which your high hits you, his fingers gently coaxing you through the descending pulse of your orgasm, near the point of over stimulation.

“Okayokay—“ You ramble, fingers wrapping around the length of his wrist as you pulled him away, heart skipping in your chest at the sight of his fingers flexing against your stomach as he pulls away, fingers covered in your wetness as a result of what just happened.

Your head rests against the back of the seat, chest heaving rapidly as you try to catch your breath. “Not that I’m complaining—“ Eddie’s voice pulls you out of your hypnosis, “but you might wanna let go.”

“Shit—I’m sorry,” You apologize softly, letting go of his hair, looking at him sheepishly, hands returning to your lap to fix your pants.

The song had ended long ago, the gentle rumble of the engine filling the quiet like an ambiance, realization settling between you both.

Who speaks first?

He’s quiet, wiping his hands on a black handkerchief that he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere, before stuffing it into his back pocket—where it must’ve been all along.

“I’m—“

“Should I—“

The stare you hold is long and tense, brimming with even more sexual tension than before, searching for some way to cope with whatever just happened.

He glanced down at the hard bulge of his jeans, noticing the way your gaze catches. He shifts, pulling at the front of his jeans to adjust himself. “It’s fine.” He lies, not ready to allow this to go any further than it should have.

“I don’t mind,” You reply slowly, voice hesitant as you lean forward, “I want to.”

He feels himself flex at the thought, the idea of your mouth—or even your hand, wrapped around, he was ruined. But, he’s insistent.

“I need to get you back to campus, right?” He asks, though the answer is obvious. It was a grasping at straw attempt to change the subject. “Red’s probably worried about you.”

Not a fucking chance.

“Yeah—you’re right.” You answer, trying to hide dejection, wanting nothing more than to touch him, as intimately as he had you. “We should go.”

It’s like he’s turning on his classroom demeanor before your eyes—and frankly, it’s ridiculous. He’s regretting every choice he just made and you know it, watching as he flips the gear into place, back on the road with one swift twist of the steering wheel.

And it could’ve been the heat of the moment or the copious amount of drinks that Eddie had been offered that night, obscuring his rational thinking—but he didn’t reek of alcohol, not a single drop on his breath. So, if anything, it was regret, obvious and plastered over his entire face.

But to Eddie, it's shame.

Shame at the idea of breaking so many rules, risking his job at the hands of some young women—who he couldn’t help but be lured by, entranced at how much of an enigma you were. He couldn’t describe it, couldn’t even put it into words.

And even after he drops you off that night, he comes in his hand, against the soft expanse of his stomach, the image of your face in his mind as you come apart by the work of his own hand.

He knew there was no going back, allowing himself to fully succumb to the idea that if you were willing to let him have you like that, you’d let him do just about anything.

It was exactly what you wanted.

author's note: and an extra special thank you to @hellfirehoe for dealing with my nonstop horny thoughts about this and helping me proofread.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #my writing #1kfic #5kfic

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