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#Sweet and innocent vibes
satans-knitwear · 2 years
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This ticks a few boxes! 🌼✨
Treat me ~ Tip me
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zishuge · 5 months
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Hey... what were Old Ning and Beauty talking about in the inn just now? Why did his expression change? A Journey to Love (2023) | Ep. 7
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ingravinoveritas · 9 months
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This is so casually slutty of him and I love it...
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sunny-sainz · 19 days
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he looks like a little kid who’s asking for his moms phone
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Conversation
Me to my friend: Yeah, so long as episode 12 is good, I'll give 'The Witch From Mercury' a full watch-through rather than skimming.
Me, after watching one of the most jarring and unnecessary tonal shifts I have ever seen in the post-credits scene, even as someone who's watched a few Gundam shows: Yeah. No. Never mind.
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puppyeared · 1 year
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uhh. uhhhhh
#realistically i knw that if i went thru with making animatics for all of these songs I think my hand would fall off BUT. i have brainrot#half of these songs are either here bc of the vibe or because i listened to the lyrics and read analyses and put 2 much effort than i had t#ALSO LISTEN. LISTEN BODYBAG IS EXACTLY EVERYTHING I IMAGINE WHENEVER I THINK OF WUKONG AND MACAQUES RELATIONSHIP OK#two birds and baby hotline is also kind of self explanatory. although most of the jack stauber songs are mostly for vibe#bitter water is a very specific flavor of pining / unhealthy outlook. kind of has like an insatiable vibe to it but idk how to name it#i want soap to be a healing song but maybe im just being optimistic. im here for the vibes although i feel like if swk and macaque were#actually to make up i think they would go into it kicking and screaming. and im frustrated because i cant find a song to match that#except maybe bodybag which AGAIN. THEY ARE SO FUCKING STUPID THATS HOW THEYRE GONNA HEALL FLYING BARK PLS#what if it doesnt end well also feels like a doomed narrative to me. like if you think about it from how their relationship might have st#started (and im probably taking from how everyone romanticizes their relationship as something really innocent or sweet at the start which#i am also not immune to that). but knowing them it is also a very good possibility thats not the case at all. what it is i dont know#primadonna also strikes me as a swk song but like msotly because he serves cunt. on that note I like to imagine rose colored boy as swk to#MK.BECAUSEEE i love how MK brings out the best in people AND AND AND!! 5000 year old immortal who has seen some shit come on people 'and i#have taken my glasses off' COME ON LOOK ATIT. you could also argue that could be macaque to MK and it would make sense#Spotify#Lego Monkie kid#lmk#yapping#playlist#monkie kid
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sunnibits · 1 year
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bruh I just barely skimmed through a comp of con in the lilac bus and hello????? he’s so fucking cute what the fuckkkkk 😭😭😭🥺🥺 young baby con is a whole different guy I swear
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daisychainsandbowties · 11 months
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You are such a threat to my free time.
First, 'luminous beings' made me reinstall Jedi Survivor and rewatch the prequel trilogy.
Now, I'm reinstalling Tomb Raider too?
You are dangerous
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oh nooo making other people like the things i like whatever shall i do
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blujayonthewing · 8 months
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the gulf of the vibes difference between 'you are too nice to be mean, I can't even picture that' and 'you are just simply too smol sweet baby bean and the mental image of you ""being mean"" is frankly hilarious to me'
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theangrypomeranian · 1 year
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reusing Tina’s dress from chapter 31 of Baby Steps in the last chapter of the Hunger Games AU 🩷
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twst-the-night-away · 2 years
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I will continue to push my Ace and Vivi agenda because they cute:
♥ (05) What is the most romantic thing your OC has done for someone else?
♥ (06) What is the most romantic thing that has been done for your OC?
The Hearts and Violets Agenda is a good one, I will indulge you. :3c
(05) Violetta gave Ace flowers once. Ace carried them with him all the next day and hoped people would ask about them. He was absolutely charmed. He's the guy! And he got flowers! This feels awesome!
(06) Ace flirted with Violetta using card tricks. He made it to where the Queen of Hearts and the Ace of Hearts were connected by a string of paper hearts, and made sure that she'd pick the Queen when he asked her to pick a card. He always has some little trick up his sleeve to try and cheer her up, it's adorable.
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ozzgin · 3 months
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Omg bro yk whats been on my mind for do long?? A demon king trying to court a hero reader. Like the hero has already fought and defeated the king but somehow he comes back and he's desperately trying to get the hero to join him (in more ways than one). He wants the reader to be his spouse and leader of his army against the corrupt human race and the reader (now fallen from stardom due to the evil kings defeat) just wants him gone and to be left alone. Idk if this makes sense but I need to see SOMEONE write abt it before I lose my last marble.
-Doll
This is giving me Dragon Quest vibes, haha. Not a trope I'm too familiar with, but it sounds interesting nonetheless. I shall do my best! Sorry for the delay, I hope it's close to what you imagined. :)
Yandere! Demon King x Hero! Reader
As it goes with villains, they always find a way to return. This time, the Demon King has a different plan in mind. You were prepared for anything, from evil schemes to ancient conjured weapons...except for a wedding ring cordially placed before you. Do you say yes?
Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, 🔥proposal (literally)
[Part 2]
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You still remember everything so fondly. How you crawled out of that enormous crater, body battered and weak, as everyone watched in horror and held their breaths. Finally, you raised your fist victoriously. The Demon King had been, at last, defeated. The people cheered and cried and pulled you up under thundering waves of applause. Peace was no longer just a dream.
A sweet, innocent memory, even more so given its fleeting nature. The genuine smiles of gratitude quickly turned into crooked grins asking for favors. Before you knew it, you became some sort of political accessory to convince the masses. Posing for photos, shaking hands, being interviewed with bizarrely planned questions reeking of propaganda. You suddenly felt burdened, heavy, disappointed. This was not the kind of fame you envisioned for yourself.
Thus, you gradually vanished from the limelight, keeping your distance from everyone else and spending most days in solitude. Better than having to look into those unscrupulous, opportunistic eyes measuring up your worth. You had fulfilled your job and purpose.
This morning you're woken up by the sound of your belongings rattling in their shelves. The wooden frame of your bed is creaking, and you struggle to get up. An earthquake? A wave of nausea flushes over you. You recognize this feeling all too well, though you never expected to deal with it again. This is a disaster alright, yet the forces of nature have nothing to do with it.
You rush outside, swinging the door open and nearly tripping in your hurry to confirm your suspicions: the demonic creature is approaching your humble adobe with heavy steps, as the ground crumbles and shatters underneath. The Demon King himself, in flesh and blood. Although the blood splattering his armor is most likely not his. Same for the visceral remains threading his weapon. Regardless, your jaw tightens nervously, and you stand back, in a defensive pose. "You're a stubborn one", you say smugly, trying to maintain your composure. "Can't say I'm a fan of dying, that is correct." A ragged, monstrous voice erupts from the tall, armored figure.
"What brings you back?" You demand. The surroundings are too peaceful for him to have tampered with the city. Did he stop by to formally announce his destruction? "I have an offer that might interest you." The Dark Overlord has closed the distance between you, now looming above your much smaller body. You shiver. "I don't barter with Demons!" You conclude, turning around, prepared to leave. "Even when your precious people are on the line?" The horned beast warns with a grin. "If there's nothing better to do as a Ruler of Realms than killing petty humans..." You swiftly retort, going back into your house and slamming the door shut.
He stands for a moment, speechless. "Y-your Majesty? Should I take care of the humans, or (Y/N)?" Only now he notices his scaly butler, bowing to his side with claws resting over the weapon. The Demon King raises a hand, shooing the servant away. The annihilation of the human race can wait. There are more important matters to deal with presently. He'd expected your rejection, naturally, but not in such fashion. The indifference, the flat voice, the empty eyes devoid of emotion. Have the city dwellers tampered with his hero? He expected to see your fierce rage and in return he was met with a hollow shell.
Bright blue flames erupt from the openings of his armor, resulting in a menacing show of lights. He's known it for the longest time, of course. Humans are rotten to their very core. Vile, deceitful creatures that have slithered their way up, exuding undeserved arrogance. He's been trying to show you this very fact, yet you were blinded by naive faith. Your unwavering, honest heart that won him over has turned out to be your early demise. Not anymore. His vengefulness knows no bounds when it comes to traitors.
The sudden spike in temperature alerts you. Was it your rudeness that angered the Demon? You don't care anymore. Whatever happens to the city is out of your hands. And yet...you're buckling the straps of your old suit made for battle. Sword in hand, you gaze at your reflection. What could the Beast want? The fortified city no longer holds the value of its olden days. Just like you've left your hero days behind. Without much contemplation, you run out and head for the main gates. The path is paved with ash and rubble and your grip on the weapon tightens. Regret immediately wells up in your chest, ready to burst out. Is it too late? The entrance is engulfed in fire, charred corpses toppling against the ruins of the walls.
You reach the town hall - or rather, what remains of it - and face the Demon King. Has he gotten stronger since your last encounter? You hold your breath as the horned monster turns towards you. "I've tried to tell you, again and again. Time after time." He sighs, defeated. "Between the two of us, I'd say you were the stubborn one all along." His voice is softer than what you would've expected from someone that had just massacred an entire settlement. There's not a single scratch or sign of struggle. Was he merely holding back during your last fight? One thing is certain: you're his final obstacle. You raise your sword, determined. Hot sweat trickles down your face as the flames surround you. "Well, at least you've convinced yourself now, I hope. There's nothing left for you here." The Demon King lowers himself, extending a fist towards you. A spell? Secret weapon? Your leg muscles contract in anticipation.
His fingers open and stretch out, slowly. In his palm, a barely noticeable ring. Given the ridiculous size difference, you assume this is better fitting for a human. You stare at it in confusion, discerning the wedding vows carved in the noble metal. "What's the meaning of this?" You mutter, glancing at the Beast now resting on one knee before you. "What? Is it not your human custom?" He looks away for a moment, clicking his tongue. "That useless butler. He told me- Forget it! You are to return with me to my Kingdom. As my spouse."
Of all the things you've prepared yourself for...Your brows furrow and your mouth hangs open in shock.
What is your answer? The Demon King will not leave empty-handed.
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evilminji · 6 months
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You know how... world leaders can't just? SAY stuff? Because when they DO it's the Offical Stance(tm) of their Country?
That makes their Fuck Ups(tm) all the more serious. It's WHY they have press teams.
But!!!
WHAT IF?
They said something, PUBLICLY, on LIVE TELEVISION, that? Can not be taken back? Full on "masks off, behold the horrors you have payed for" moment?
Sure, they could SAY "that wasn't me" and "I was brainwashed" etc etc. But? If it's BIG enough? UGLY enough? TRUE??? People WILL find it. Dig and dig and dig like termites in the walls. Hunt like bloodhounds.
Riot in the streets.
Because? All it would TAKE? Is ONE half ghost, a few too many long nights trying to balance college classes and his internship, a bigotry filled call from back home, and staring down that empty fridge with just one box of moldering take out, because he's been too busy and stressed to remember to get GROCERIES AND-
Ah.
So this is what "so stressed you feel calm, I have run out of Fucks too give" feels like. Neat. *picks up phone* Hey, Sam? You still at that protest? Outside the presidential speech? Neat. Don't move.
One Phone Line Express later. SAM is telling him to breathe. Maybe... maybe calm down. Think about this. Others around her can see the same "spark of madness" glint in his almost zen like smile.
It Fiiiiine, Sam.
He's just here to Talk.
He disappears. Sam's freaking out. President stumbles but catches himself on the way to the mike. Up in the watch tower, various Magic users choke on their lunches, because a ghost just possessed the United States President.
ON LIVE TELEVISION.
He taps the Mike, smile, leans in real close like he's gonna Tell You Folks A Secret.... Aaaaand~
"The second you Die, you no longer have human rights. Doesn't matter how brief. Heart stops? You're sub-human scum! Non-sentient by American law. We here in the United Stares PROUDLY desecrate the bodies and graves of the dead. Tear apart the immortal souls of the innocent. And condemn you to oblivion crying, begging, and screaming for mercy! Why, obviously, is an act. Because souls don't have the RIGHT to feel fear or pain!
And YES. We do mean EVERYONE'S. Atlantian, Kryptonian, Martian. Canadian, Mexican, Russian, AND Chinese! I could keep going! Once you die? You belong to the United States to experiment on as we see fit! You're PROPERT now! So turn your nonrights having, nonsentient self in to the nearest GIW! For the good of AMERICA. Ectoplasmic Scum!"
*drops mic*
Jaws are on the floor. This was VETERANS DAY. Dead military Heros and smile for the cameras. A cake walk. Do a patriotism, rah rah. There.... there are DIPLOMATS in the crowd. Sure as SHIT, were more then a few foreign nationals WATCHING. Religious leaders looking on in fury, grief, and horror.
Reporters. Oh sweet Jesus the reporters.
The press secretary faints.
PANDEMONIUM. The president, still dazed and confused from being possessed, gets PUNCHED on live television be his VP, a deeply religious if moderately shady man. Take bribes? VP is cool with that. Bootstraps, peasants, and all that. But how DARE you fuck with the Souls of the dead. How DARE you!
Phones are blowing up, questions are being shouted, the JLA Dark FEEL like they should tell somebody about the ghost kid... but also this feels VERY "Call for help-y" so they might throw their weight around instead and pretend they know nothing. World leader are meaningfully staring at their Dear Beloved Dead Grandmother's photos as they send LIVID assistants to hound the American into answering the DAMN PHONE-!
And Danny?
Danny feels calmer now. He has stolen like....700 bucks from secret security's various wallets. He's going to buy himself BOUGIE groceries. Some...some NICE take out. Maybe a little cake. Yeah~ Cake for Danny~
If anyone needs him? No you don't. He needs to go do some shopping, eat, lie on the floor of his shower and just... vibe for a bit under the spray. In the dark maybe. Sleep for a week. Have his food. Yummy little treats.
Or he's gonna fuckin LOSE IT, man.
(Tucker is actively hacking his college schedule as they speak. He KNEW it. Called it! Too many classes! But does Mr "I can handle it" listen? Noooooooo! Now look what happened! Holy SHIT, Danny!)
@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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saraswritingtipps · 7 months
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list of common cute things or traits for your original character (OC)
1. Big, Expressive Eyes: Large, expressive eyes can give your OC an innocent and cute appearance.
2. Unique Hairstyle: A distinct or quirky hairstyle can add a touch of charm.
3. Shyness or Bashfulness: A bit of shyness or bashfulness can make your OC seem sweet and approachable.
4. Love for Animals: Having a soft spot for animals, particularly small and fluffy ones, can be adorable.
5. Childlike Enthusiasm: A boundless, childlike enthusiasm for simple things can be endearing.
6. Giggles and Laughter: Frequent giggles or infectious laughter can make your OC likable.
7. Awkwardness: A charming level of social awkwardness can be endearing.
8. Clumsiness: A propensity for stumbling or being clumsy in a cute way can add to their charm.
9. Favorite Comfort Food: Giving your OC a favorite comfort food or snack can create relatable moments.
10. Caring Nature: A character who cares deeply for their friends or family is inherently cute.
11. Doodles and Sketches: The habit of doodling or sketching cute and whimsical drawings can be charming.
12. Adoration of Nature: A love for nature, flowers, or starry nights can make your OC more endearing.
13. Quirky Habits: Unique and charming habits or quirks can set your OC apart.
14. Childhood Nostalgia: Relatable nostalgia for childhood toys, games, or TV shows can be cute.
15. Warm Smile: A warm, inviting smile is always charming.
16. Politeness and Manners: Good manners and politeness are universally appealing.
17. Innocent Curiosity: A genuine and innocent curiosity about the world can be adorable.
18. Playfulness: A playful and carefree nature can make your OC lovable.
19. Emotional Vulnerability: Showing moments of vulnerability or genuine emotion can endear your OC to readers.
20. Wearing Glasses: If it fits your character, glasses can add a cute and intelligent vibe.
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seonghwaddict · 18 days
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to taint your soul — choi san
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in which apparently even the daughter of an exorcist is not safe from the corruption of an incubus.
incubus!choi san x exorcist’s daughter!fem!reader. genre. smut, angst, southern gothic vibes. warnings. barely any plot, religious themes, religious guilt, swearing, explicit sexual content mdni, corruption, loss of virginity, masturbation (f.), referenced dacryphilia, fingering, referenced oral (f.), manhandling?, multiple orgasms, rough and gentle, big dick!san, creampie, marking, nicknames (angel, pretty girl, sweet girl, sweetheart). wc. 7.3k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. i should do more mythological characters!ateez cuz i enjoyed writing this and the lamb and the wolf. the demonology book/text here is partially from The Encylopedia of Demons and Demonology by Rosemary Ellen Guiley, but i made up some parts for the sake of the story. THIS FIC DOES NOT REPRESENT ANY OF MY OPINIONS AND I DO NOT INTEND TO OFFEND ANYONE.
listening to. burning desire, lana del rey // gibson girl, ethel cain // lilies, ethel cain & mercy necromancy // ptolemaea, ethel cain // heaven, taemin
masterlist.
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you were cursed from the moment you were born.
the idea of being cursed or haunted by anything isn’t one you think about often, considering yourself protected by your father’s profession. at least one dusty bible on every bookshelf in the colonial monstrosity that is your home and crucifixes hung all around, it seems to be common sense that an exorcist’s home would be the safest place to hide from the dark.
unaware of it all, you used to let yourself be tucked into your lace-trimmed bedsheets as he pulled you to sleep with stories. tales of fallen angels and possessed souls became the lullabies of your childhood. admittedly, you were quite terrified of it all, but as you grew older and wiser, you realised there was no way they could get to you. but really, it was wishful thinking.
you weren’t aware of who your father used to be, nor were you aware of the debt he owed to a particular demon.
the dreams started the night after your twentieth birthday, vivid and unsettling. a man haunted them, equally as terrifying as he was handsome. tall and clad in dark silks, his whispered words and hungry eyes intrigued you. his touch, though a figment of your imagination, sent shivers down your spine, foreign yet infinitely alluring. you’d wake up with a jolt, panting, flushed cheeks and tingling skin as the dream stuck to you like cobwebs. your father passed the repeated dreams off as nightmares and you failed to notice the flash of fear cross his features.
one night, however, you were changing in your room. dimly illuminated by multiple candles you set around since you didn’t like how bright the large chandelier was, you held a dress in each of your hands, standing in front of the mirror as you held the clothing to your body in an attempt to figure out what to wear. you didn’t notice at first, but a figure lurked in the shadows of the bedroom. you didn’t notice the shift in the atmosphere or the flicker of the candles.
but soon, a soft sigh sounded through the room, so soft it could’ve been mistake for a whistling breeze outside your window. goosebumps prickled at your skin as you tensed, refusing to move at the oddly human sound. staring at yourself in the mirror intently, you caught a glimpse of a familiar face in the reflection of your mirror. your breath hitched as you fixed your eyes on him, afraid that if you blinked, he’d disappear.
you watched him. watched him take slow steps towards you as he smirked at the sight of your wide, fearful yet infinitely pure and innocent eyes. you convinced yourself you were hallucinating, the disturbingly realistic sounds of his footsteps as much of a figment of imagination as his being. but as he stood right behind you, a coldness swept over your skin and you flinched as his breath fanned against your bare shoulder. whipping around in surprise, you yelped softly at the sensation. but he was gone, and you were alone. breath erratic and eyes stinging, you scrambled to move a wooden cross stand from the top of your dresser to your bedside table.
after that you grew paranoid, always looking over your shoulder, sleeping with at least two safe and reliable candles lit. each time you walked through the hallways of your own home, you kept your gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at the portraits lining the dark walls as you thought they were watching you. the tiniest of sounds made you flinch and break a sweat, squeezing your eyes shut and muttering prayers, only to find out the sound came from either of your parents.
the constant state of fear and anxiety left you tired, deciding if your father wasn’t going to do anything about it, you would. on quiet feet, you crept through the halls at noon (you were too scared to go to that room at night), a rosary wrapped around your hand with a dainty little cross hanging from your clenched palm.
you father really was a well-known exorcist, often to go on trips within and beyond the country to treat what doctors couldn’t; demonic possessions. as a symbol of his successes and a means to prevent others from coming in contact with whatever a demon may have attached itself to, he brought home trophies and locked them in a little storage room in the basement. of course, he took many precautions—crucifixes all over the inside and outside, sprinkles of holy water here and there, he’d have your local priest come over and bless the area himself. despite all this, you never once stepped in, partially because your father advised you not to, mostly because you were completely and utterly terrified.
as you descended the creaking wooden stairs, a chill ran through you, the hairs at your nape standing in alert. maybe you were scaring yourself more than the room scared you. the dust tickled your nostrils, making you force down a sneeze as you cleared your throat. the wooden floorboards extended into a narrow hallway, lined by cobblestone walls. you rarely came down, in fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you were there, the surroundings seeming so foreign. there were only two doors, one leading to a storage closet and the other to a slightly scarier storage closet.
you stared up at the ominous door, standing tall and intimidating, a golden cross embossed right in the centra, doorknob dark and rusted. with shaky hands, you fished a copper from the hidden pocket of your plaid gown. it half-hearted a few sloppy attempts until you got the key in, squeezing your eyes shut as you force yourself to finally turn it.
another chill ran through your body as you push the door open weakly, cracking an eye open to look inside. had you come at night, you wouldn’t have been able to see anything, the only source of light being an elongated shirt window lining the top of the right wall, an inch below the ceiling. three shelves. one on the right, one of the left, and one down the middle of the room. the middle and left one were lined with various objects. you walked between them, looking but not daring to touch. the objects were quite diverse, you realised. dolls, clocks, little statues.
you took your time to get to the shelf you needed. along with these objects, you father also locked away any books he had that were related to demons in any way. most of them were confiscated from cults, some of their were from his personal collection. he claimed they were to protect you, and you didn’t completely disbelieve him. taking a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh, looking at all the titles. your fingertips ran over their leather bound spines, feeling the wrinkles and grooves. you knew there would be a lot, but as you looked upon the entire shelf, you estimated a good hundred-fifty books.
he organised them by categories. summoning, excommunication, identifying. identifying. that’s what you needed. you took a closer look at the section, nervousness fading briefly to be replaced by a faint taste of hope.
the encyclopaedia of demons and demonology.
deciding there had to be something in there, you pulled it out. the book itself was simple, bound in black leather. the cover was nothing special, just the title and author. by the looks of it, you’d be here for a while, seemingly at least three hundred pages long. you looked around the dark room, a small wooden desk was tucked into the corner though not a chair in sight. with a soft sigh, you walked over on weak knees, apprehensive about what you’d find in the book.
despite your father’s profession and all the bedtime stories, you never came in contact with demons or the spirit world. setting the book on the desk, you opened it to the index, having to squint to make out the text. but the next time you lifted your eyes off the page, a brass candle holder was tucked into the corner of the table.
you blinked. there was no way that was there before, but maybe you had just missed it. the pale yellow candle stood half melted, the hardened wax forming veins that ran down the sides and pooled in the brass bowl.
you held your breath momentarily before beginning to read through the a to z list of demons and other dark entities and their descriptions. you only skimmed, lingering on any that mentioned appearing in nightmares only to dismiss them when the rest of their descriptions didn’t match with your experience. surprised by just how much there was to read, you felt just a little curious, occasionally stopping to read extracts that had piqued your interest. it wasn’t until you got all the way to section i where something actually seemed to be helpful.
‘incubus—a lewd male demon who pursues women for sex. the incubus and his female counterpart, the succubus, visit women and men in their sleep, lie and press heavily upon them, and seduce them.’
you nearly missed it, continuing your skimming until the description registered, scrambling to turn back the page and reread it.
“oh.” you breathed at the realisation. that seemed to be the most accurate thus far, your finger tracing over the name as you furrowed your eyebrows and continued reading. the next paragraphs detailed how they’re conjured and where the name came from. you read some more.
‘incubi are especially attracted to women with beautiful hair, young virgins, chaste widows, and all “devout” females. nuns are among the most vulnerable and could be molested in the confessional as well as in bed. while the majority of women are forced into sex by the incubi, some of them submit willingly and even enjoy the act. it once was a common belief that women were more likely than men to be the sexual victims of demons, because women were inferior to men and less able to resist temptation.
incubi have enormous phalluses that—’
slamming the book shut, your eyes widened and a deep blush settled over your features, just staring at the cover for a moment as you collected yourself from the sudden vulgarity of the writing. after a moment, you cleared your throat and reopened the page, strategically skipping over the next paragraphs that detailed accounts of intercourse with such a demon.
‘an incubus may form attachments to those whose minds are occupied with dark and inherently sexual desires, those that are impure. one also can be summoned for coital gratifications, or a deal in which one’s first born is ommonly offered to repay their sevices (see: dealing with the demons, page 218).’
but that couldn’t be right. you always made sure to be a good girl, always helped at home. you volunteered to read to children at a local orphanage, always helped with charities and donations, always assisted people where you knew you could, stayed soft spoken and always began your requests with please and ended them with thank you. you kept to yourself most of the time, would never dare to raise your voice at anyone, never had any romantic interest, let alone sexual ones.
admittedly, the dreams involving the man— the demon had you waking up with an uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs. but before that, you never indulged. after that, you never indulged either, instead jumping from your bed and taking an ice could bath to calm yourself from the strange feeling. the temptations were always there and were always strong, but your want to be immaculate was stronger. to be free of sin.
a deal in which one’s first born is offered.
it seemed impossible, almost. you knew your father was a righteous man and your mother a pure woman. but where your mother happily shared stories of her childhood as heart-warming anecdotes, your father only dropped tidbits of his memories despite considering you two to be extremely close. you always chalked it up to him being a little boring or generally not very open. but maybe there was more to it…
“there you go, sweetheart.”
you nearly jumped out of your skin at the sound of his voice, pushing the book away from you as you turned around a little too quickly, your knee knocking against the edge of the table.
there he stood, barely illuminated by the singular window as he took slow steps towards you much like the other day.
“so, you’ve finally figured it out, huh?”
each time he took a step, his muscles visible through the loose black silk, you inched away until the top of your thigh hit the wooden table, your hands bracing themselves on it to keep you from collapsing in fear. the closer he got, the more you realised just how attractive he was. broad-shouldered and radiating confidence, his feline eyes roamed over your figure. depite wearing a white gown that reached all the way down to your ankles, you felt so exposed.
tongue swiping along his bottom lip, drawing your attention to the action. he towered over you, making you feel weak and small as he trapped you against the table. your heart pounded against your ribcage and you feared it would break free and fall into his hands, unsure if the warmth on your cheeks and ump in your throat came from how utterly petrified you were or the way his breath fanned over your face like a whisper.
“your dearest father isn’t who he says he is,” he pouted mockingly, coming to a stop inches in front of you, letting his gaze settle on your quivering lips for a moment, “and me? well, you know what i am. and you also know we can have lots of fun if you allow it.”
your lips parted to speak but no words came out, instead opting to press them into a thin line and squeezing your eyes shut as you shook your head. you weren’t completely sure why you wer shaking your head, but if it would stop the incubus from tainting you, it was worth a try.
“don’t kid yourself, princess. i can smell how wet you are.” as if to emphasise his point, he inhaled deeply, leaning forward to ghost his nose over the slope of your neck without touching you.
it wasn’t until he said it that you notice you had been squeezing your thighs together, feeling warm all over and you stomach twisted in knots at the sound of his deep voice. something ached in your lower regions, but you tried your hardest to resist the thoughts.
but a little voice in the back of your head urged you to tilt your head back, to give him permission, to let his hands explore your untouched body. maybe just this once you could allow yourself to give in, to let your knees go weak and worry about begging for forgiveness later.
“all you have to do is drop the rosary.”
you gripped it tighter at the reminder of the protective object tangled between your fingers, fighting to keep your sanity intact. your breath hitched as you felt one of his fingers run along the beads, not daring to come close to the little silver cross or your skin.
“c’mon, pretty girl. drop it,” you heard the smirk in his voice, “let it go and i’ll take good care of you, i can make you feel things you’ve never thought of… i can make you feel alive, wouldn’t you love that? don’t you want to feel the desire? taste the lust?”
“n-no,” you gasped finally, finding your words, “it’s not right.“
he laughed, a low rumble from his chest, “i promise you’ll love being ruined by me,” he said, withdrawing his hand from yours, “i swear to all your precious little holy symbols, i know i can get you to want me.”
he moved closer and for a maddening moment you thought he was going to kiss you. faintly, you wanted him to. to feel the push of his lips against yours, to let his hands snake around your waist or grip your hips to pull you closer. there’s a ring on his index finger, you noticed, silvery and sharp, a symbol you didn’t recognise yet imagine him pressing it against your throat, branding your neck anew until it’s red and faithful. and maybe you crave for him to undo all the things in you that are holy.
“just drop it, pretty,” his breath teased your lips and you almost leaned forward in curiosity, wanting to see how just one kiss would feel, “i know you’re a good girl.”
those words. they’re almost enough for you to give in. how did he know those would strike a nerve, hit you where he knew it would work? not only did all your efforts ultimately lead to the same goal—purity, goodness—but you couldn’t deny the satisfaction you felt from reassurance. if you were an animal, you’d strive to be the priest’s favourite sacrificial lamb. to hold so very still and to bleed so prettily when the knife final comes down, to be reborn and be chosen all over again.
“don’t you get it?” he whispered, “i live inside you the same way you’re bound to live inside me. we’re a moebius strip, a never ending cycle of a snake eating it’s own tail. maybe it will end in destruction, but that’s your dear father’s doing. mutually assured destruction, maybe; you say yes, i’ll ruin you for everyone else, blacken the wool of your fur coat. you say no to me, i will suffer the consequences of not fulfilling a deal. you wouldn’t want someone to suffer because of you, hm?”
your grip on the rosary loosened and let your eyes finally flutter open. from this proximity, you could see every detail of his face and the image seared into your mind.
something in his eyes darkened as his lips curled, a playful smile, a predatory grin. the way he looked at you made you want to combust into flames, to fall to your knees, you skin rubbed raw on the ground as you beg him to make you feel.
“you don’t look so innocent anymore, you know? you’re docile and sweet, yes, but you’re not as pure as you think you are, there’s a little dirt in your pristine heart, a little lustful stain you can’t erase.”
“y-you’re wrong!” you protested, trying to convince yourself he was lying, “i’m good and i’ve always been good and i always will be good and i will not for the devil’s influence.”
“oh, but i’m not,” he pouted mockingly, moving his head back just an inch, looking down at you, “you’re practically shaking, so close to giving in… you’re the most pious girl here, yet you’re so close to sin, so close to me.”
you opened your mouth to continue your protests but flinched as you heard familiar heavy footsteps, looking up at the little window to see the familiar boots of your father about to enter the house after a long day of work. he was out, casting out malicious spirits and demons, and here you were, about to let one deflower you. the realisation seemingly made you come back to your senses, clenching the roary in your hand once more and looking for a way past him.
but… what would you even do afterwards? confront your father, the town’s devout exorcist, for making deals with the incubus in front of you? would he call you crazy, deny everything and treat you like just another one of his clients?
the footsteps were now above you, you could faintly hear him saying something to your mother though you couldn’t quite make out what it was. you’d never been as afraid of anything as you were of your own father, standing right above you, acting like he hadn’t damned you from the day you were conceived.
as if he could read your thoughts, could sense your panic that was completely unrelated to him, the incubus stepped back. his face was unreadable as his glazed over eyes fixated on you.
“don’t worry, sweet girl, i can wait. the longer you resist, the better it’ll feel when you finally surrender,” he gave you a small smile, different from the previous grins and smirks, as he nodded towards the window, “go.”
you could’ve run away the moment he stepped back, yet you didn’t move until he gave you the permission. you didn’t dwell on that fact as you slipped past him and reached up, shaky hands undoing the latch and opening outwards. you attempted to climb up, your arms burning as you tried lifting yourself, only to give up, panting softly from the effort.
“let me help you.” his voice offered, prompting you to look back at him. the seductive glint in his eyes was no longer there, taking a small step forward. “just… put it down, i promise i’ll help you and leave.”
you stared at him for a long moment. there was something so different in the way he looked at you now, suddenly soft and with good intentions. the voice of your father calling your name snapped you out of your stupor, nodding hurridely as you placed the rosary on the grass outside carefully before turning to look at him.
he gestured for you to turn away, your hands finding your hips as you did. the contact made you breath hitched, despite your layers of clothing between your curves and his hands, your stomach tickled with swarming butterflies as he lifted you up. the heat of his body behind yours distracted you for a moment, taken aback at how real he felt, how human he felt, even as he lifted you with ease.
you braced your forearms on the ground, pulling yourself up the rest of the way as he spoke.
“whisper my name three times, and i’ll be summoned wherever you are, ready to fulfill your needs.”
you stayed quiet for a moment, just sitting on the ground as you looked down at him, now able to see his full face clearning from his proximity to the window. “what’s your name?”
“san,” he smiled, “choi san.”
you loked away, up at your house as your father’s concerned voice called out your name again. “i should get going, but–,” you looked down to thank him, only to find an empty room and a sealed window. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, voiced trailing off, “thank you…”
the first time you touched yourself, it was san you were thinking about.
late at night, your parents fast asleep, a storm ragin outside, but all you could do was think about him. you tried, you really did. you tried to go back in the house and pretend everything was fine, that you had just been on a walk and your flushed face was from the excercise. secretely, all you could think about was him. how you wanted him to show up again—wanted him to make your breath hitch and your heart jump. wanted him to soothe whatever it was that ached inside you; the burn in the pit of your stomach, the spot where your waist met your hips, but most of all between your legs, were it had never ached like this before.
you excused yourself from dinner earlier, went to bed, and tried so desperately to fall asleep. whether it was to forget about it all, or to meet him in your dreams again, you couldn’t tell. you really tried, but haunting thoughts of how his hands held onto you rolled into your mind with images of all the things he could do to you. the raspy lilt of his voice, sometimes soft, sometimes commanding in a way that made your limbs feel like jello at the mere thought of it. his sharp eyes and sharp jaw and such tempting lips. he could have a kind face if he wanted to, yet his toned body, visible and obvious despite trying to hide behind his clothing, screamed sex appeal.
flashes from your previous dreams raced through your mind too. fragments of images where you could feel his hands all over you, his dark hair sticking to his sweat forehead, eyes rolled back from the pleasure he gave himself while you were forced to watch. you never quite gave in in the dreams either.
you tossed and turned in your bed, thighs pressed together so tight you worried you’d have long bruises down your inner thighs the next morning. the new feeling felt much too large for your fragile mind, overwhelming you, making your loose clothes feel suffocating. it wouldn’t leave you alone, wouldn’t let you sleep. mostly because you didn’t want to give the feeling a name, you refused to speak its name, even in your mind, even if it could identify this feeling.
pent-up and strained, coiled into yourself in a foetal position, you could only roll onto your back and let your hand trail down your body, hiking up the long skirt of your nightgown before letting your fingers dip between your thighs, spread at the knees. you let out a shaky gasp as you felt the wetness pooled beneath your undergarments, clamping your other hand over your lips. after feeling around experimentally, your fingers found a quick pace, rubbing over your clit, more desperate than they had ever been. your hand muffled your gasped out moans and whimpers, tears pricking at your eyes—partly from the guilt, mostly from the pleasure. you felt your heart beat all over your body, most of all right below your moistened fingertips.
shaky breaths and muffled needy cries were covered by both your hand and the storm outside your window. if hurts a little, your clit swelling as more and more slick coats it and the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. but you don’t mind the pain, you think you deserve it, because after all, it’s forbidden and it’s not supposed to feel good. san is not supposed to make you feel so good. a demon was the one thing that wasn’t supposed to be on your mind, especially not in this way.
the thought of him made your hand move faster and suddenly your breath was stuttering and your core pulse as you finish quickly, biting down on your lip, hard enough to cut through the skin, to muffle your cries. when you came down from your high, you lay there for a few moments longer, heart racing as you glance at the door to make sure it was still closed. and when you realised what you had just done, shame clouded your lungs as you slipped your fingers out of your panties and raised them to your face.
your hands came away sticky. transparents webs of your pleasure linking your index and middle fingers together as you stared in horror before finally collecting yourself and jumping from your bed to scrub the sin from your hands in your bathroom.
you scrubbed until your fingers turned red and your palms raw, losing sensation from the ice cold water, the guilt sinking deeper and deeper the longer you took to cleanse your body. you hadn’t noticed the tears running down your cheeks until you stared at yourself in the mirror, sniffling and glossy-eyed. your body might be clean, but were you? if you wanted to be immaculate, how could you let yourself do such a thing?
it was his fault, really. him and his midnight eyes and electric touches and words that would drive you to madness, damnation.
you changed your panties and nightgown, burying them in your laundry basket as if you were burying the evidence of a crime. once done, you wanted nothing more than to sink into your bed and fall asleep. but as you stared at what you once thought was comforting, you could only think about your soft whimpers and shaking thighs. so you stripped your bed naked to decorate it anew with clean sheets and blankets and pillows, shoving the previous ones under your bed before finally falling into a deep sleep.
shame followed you like a pest for the next days, unable to properly smile because all you could think about was what you had done. and what you wanted to do. a heavy melancholy washed over you in these days, confining yourself to your room when ou didn’t have to come down for meals. if your parents picked up on it, they didn’t say anything. maybe they knew. what if they know?
maybe they didn’t say anything because they knew about san. perhaps they thought it was fate, that you would give in sooner or later. despite cracking a bit, you stood by your conviction that you wouldn’t, no matter what, summon him.
but… was he really so bad? had you not seen a moment of softness when he helped you? demons were, after all, fallen angels. could it really be so impossible he still had a sprinkle of previous angeilc qualities? silently, you were thankful he hadn’t showed up on his own again. if he did, you were afraid you’d throw away all sense of faith and throw yourself into his arms, let him kiss you and lick you and suck you and bite you and everything in between.
despite all this, despite not wanting to summon him, you couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling weighing you down with each step. it had been there before—before whatever happened in the basement—dragging your seemingly heavy limbs through vacant hallways. but when he touched you, when his fingertips brushed against yours as he touched the shiny black beads of your rosary even though he didn’t mean to, when his hands lifted you into the air and helped you escape, the way he talked to you, his words and tone, that unsettling feeling had been lifted off your shoulders.
you noticed, for a brief moment, when you spent that short amount of time with him, you had no desire to think of god or rules or expectations. even if it was for a split second, it happened, and perhaps that what terrified you the most. just wanted to be, something you hadn’t been allowed for so long.
so when your parents said they’d be out late for some dinner you had no interest in attending, you paced around your room, deep in thought as your typical long nightgown tickled your ankles. millions of thoughts raced through your kind but, at the core, they were all the same. san, san, san. you felt like he had attached himself to your very soul, and you’re not quite sure how it happened.
without thinking, you stopped your pacing, glancing at the crucifix on your bedside table, a reminder. you couldn’t take it anymore, reaching out to take the wooden symbol and hide it in your closet. was it really wrong if it was still there, only trapped behind the wooden double doors, nestled between your skirts and shirts and gowns and gowns? out of sight, you felt less bad about what you were going to do.
your eyes squeezed shut and you did as he told you to, lips parting to whisper his name thrice. almost instantly, a gust of wind blew through your room and you knew there was someone else there with you. your eyes remained shut until you heard footsteps stalking towards you, his familiar voice filling the eerie silence of the room.
“hello, angel,” he grinned, borderline menacing, as he backed you up against your dresser. much like before, you were trapped, the back of your thighs pressed against the wood. only this time, you weren’t afraid, “i knew you’d give in sooner rather than later.”
you didn’t reply, didn’t know how to reply, only breathing shallowly, fingers curling into the edge of your dresser as you glanced from his eyes to his lips repeatedly.
“you need to give me permission, you know,” he chuckled, tilting his head to the side, “there are rules for deals such as these.”
“please.” you breathed, somewhere between a whisper and a needy whine as your round eyes looked up at him so desperately.
as soon as the word left you, his lips were on yours. hungry, devouring you, sucking on your bottom lip like it’s a candy as you can’t help but melt and whimper against him. his hand found your cheek, the touch surprisingly soft compared to the madness of his kisses. your heart rattled against your ribcage like a bird wanting to escape its confines. his saccharine saliva seeped into your mouth as his tongue broke past your lips, running over your teeth and the roof of your mouth as you let him do whatever he wanted.
his hands are all over you and yours are all over him, grabbing at each other because there was no way to get any closer like this. your thoughts, unlike before, are completely quiet, head empty and drunk on the sloppy kisses, mouthfuls of teeth clashing against each other. he was supposed to be gentle, he wanted to be gentle, yet now you’re pressed against the dresser and he’s kissing you hard.
it was wrong, but it felt too good. that was clear from the moment your kisses turn open-mouthed, lips clinging and tongues dancing. you shivered as both his hands held you by your hips once more, lifting you to sit on the edge of the oak furniture, caressing your hips bones through the thin fabric of your dress.
your hands rug at his shirt lightly, a silent plea for him to remove it, wanting to see and feel every inch of his divine body. he complies, separating his lips from your to reach over his shoulder and grip the silky shirt from the back, pulling it over his head, tossing it aside. your hands explore his naked torso, fingernails scratching along his skin as he loses himself in the taste of your kisses.
his hands dragged the long skirt of your gown up your legs, fingers ghosting over the supple skin of your calves and thighs before letting the cloth bunch up at your hips, winding your legs around his waist before lifting you off the dresser. you cling to him the way the thought of him cling to you for so long before this as he carries you. he lays you down gently, your head spinning as he kneeled on the edge of your bed and leaned over you, moving his lips from yours to mouth at your neck.
his hot breaths dance along your skin, across your collarbone, neck, pressing wet kisses down to the fabric covering your chest. you gasped softly as he brushed his teeth against your skin, a reminded that he could really break you if he wanted, but the feel of his lips against the curve of your neck, testing out the waters of your shoulder, made the intimidating thought vanish.
he teases the skin just above your neckline with nibbles that have you throwing your head back with soft whimpers, only encouraging him as his left hand kept one of your legs hitched up against his hips and his right undid the ribbons at the back of your dress. the fabric loosens and slips around, one sleeve falling over your shoulder slightly as he sat you up a little and pulled the dress over your head, discarding it and leaving you in your white ruffled bra and panties.
you’re dizzy, delirious with thirst—for his touch, his kisses, for everything his sharp lips could give you, for him to relieve the ache between your legs. you shiver as you’re left bare, nipples peaking through your bra, undergarments barely hiding your most precious parts. you try covering yourself with shaking arms, despite the little fabric still be there, but his hands move them aside, pulling them to rest on his bare chest. his eyelids flutter for a moment at the contact, your hands so much colder than his.
he leans back to look at your, hand at your back winding around to massage a handful of one breast, watching your breath hitch. “such a pretty girl, and all for me.”
“san…” you whimper aimlessly, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“such an angel,” he teases again, thumb circling over your clothed nipple lightly, grinning at how helpless you looked, “supposedly protected by your father, by god, yet here you are, practically begging for a demon to fuck you.”
he presses himself closer and you can feel the thick and heavy weight of his cock smudge against your core, gasping softly as you eyes roll back, his tip prodding against the fabric covering your sensitive clit. his name falls from your lips once again, like a softly uttered prayer as you back arches. he takes the opportunity to undo the clasp of your bra, slipping the item off you before continuing to tease your perked nipples, leaning down to lick and suck at them as his hips grind against yours. you weren’t sure when he took off his pants, but you didn’t quite care, not when his impressive girth covered your core so well. sometimes the tip would dip into your entrance before leaving just as quickly, your toes curling as it stretched you and your panties.
he moans into your neck, grinding against you at just the right pace, his precum smearing all over you already-drenched panties. the feeling of his tip prodding at you clit so continuously makes you come quickly, and much harder than the other night when you touched yourself. you writhe beneath him, shaking and crying out his name as your back arches from the bed.
“hm, you’re so much prettier like this, angel, succumbing and throwing away any desire of virtue,” he mutters against your jaw, having sucked dark marks onto the skin right below it, his deep melodic voice.
angel. the way he calls you that makes you shiver. how could he do that? call you an angel while plucking out the feathers of the wings you’d once had?
when he enters you, it’s slow and deliberate, leaning down to whisper into your ear as he presses your hands into the white mattress—”heaven itself could not make you feel like this.”
“i’ve never… you know…” you had admitted shyly once you came down from the first orgasm he coaxed out of you.
he only chuckled, caressing your cheek. “i know. virgins always smell the sweetest.”
you pleaded for him to be gentle, and how could he say no when you were begging so prettily? now his length is barely halfway inside you and you’re already shaking, drenched and deprived pussy squeezing him tightly as he swallows down your broken moans, holding back him own. you feel abnormally good to him, unable to remember the last time he fucked such a perfect pussy.
as he reaches previously untouched parts of you, his tip brushes against a spongey little area that has you clenching, your breath hitching followed by a gasped moan as you come again. stars flood your vision, feeling like your body was on fire as your hands tightened under his. his tongue licks up every one of your sounds, smothering you as he pulled back a bit to press against the spot some more.
your moans soon turn into soft whines, twitching from overstimulation before he fially continues to enter you. it’s a tight fit, but he bottoms out eventually.
“fuck- you take me so well, you’re so perfect.” he groans, looking down at where he can see his tip bulging through your stomach.
you never imagined just how full you would feel, the stretch burning yet somehow still pleasurable as you squirm beneath him. he doesn’t wait, retracting and fucking into you slowly, letting you feel every curve and vein of his perfect cock.
he loses track, but he thinks he’s made you finish 4 times already. he’s not surprised, virginity leaves most people sensitive, and the fact he’s been teasing you in and out of your dreams for months likely didn’t help. san revels in it though, basks in the sounds you try to hold back so desperately. he isn’t lying when he says you’re pretty, hypnotised by your face contorted in pleasure and your body, tears slipping from the corners of your eyes. they somehow still have an innocent glint in them, even as he manoeuvres you into different positions before finally easing you into your back once more.
you arousal is smeared all over yourself and him and the bedsheets. clear and sticky, glistening in the candlelight. at some point he slipped out of you to lean down and have a taste, groaning as you mewed above him. when his teeth grazed your abuser clit, you finish once again and a moment later he’s back inside you.
eventually, his hips stutter and a newfound pace takes over. “shit, angel, i’m gonna fill you up so good. would you like that?”
you can only nod frantically, brain turned to mush, jaw dropped to let out your lazy whimpers. you’ve lost track of everything but him; his touch, his voice, his influence. if you parents walked in or he disappeared, you’d only be able to lay there, completely helpless.
he never really stops, taking his time to worship your tight hole, knowing he’ll only be able to stop when he comes. though, by the looks of it, it’ll be sooner rather than later.
his groans and moans sound blissful in your ears, holding your name between his teeth with a low whimper. he spills his tick warm cum into you, the new sensation making you shake and squirm as you feel your insides being filled. another orgasm washed over you, though a little weaker, drunk on his scent and his saliva and him him him.
he kisses you, bruisingly, slipping out of yoh and letting you feel his seed seep out of your hole and run down your thighs, pussy coated in milky white. he slumps against you, detaching his lips from yours to gaze down at your barely open eyes.
it’s tiring, you can’t deny that, but it just feels so good. all your disgusting, fucked up thoughts were because of him. and now your most intimate parts will always be tainted by his hands. he calls you ‘good girl,’ yet you know you’ll never be good again.
choi san: voice like silk, touch like satin, incubus, demon. you’d think demons kill people, but your purity was his only homicide. he murdered your virginity. murderer.
but you do wish for him to kiss you again.
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet @atzhouse
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
fic taglist. @ta3baee @juyofans @sourkimchi @desirehorizon @revepixy @yungilia @cntlyv @mcendpoet @kimseungminsprincess @cookiechristie @bluesunpurplestar1117 @vnessalau @k1ttym0nkey @kyeomooniee @aarzoo-2 @pinkgirly-18-blog @yourfatherlucifer @puddingjongho @futuresoffantasies @reallywingedland @spenceatiny18 @im-def-not-ok @hwapou @a1sh1teruu @lover-ofallthingspretty @arabelleum @hoshiseon @guggu6gvai @seongsbf @honggatito @deltamoon666 @yunhoszn @1-800-fuccthisshit
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luvt0kki · 2 months
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training wheels | k.h.j
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.”
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