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writerswall26 · 1 year ago

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My Sweet Cairo (Part 1)

Synopsis: The Ravens' Soccer team Captain fell in love for Cairo Sweet

Warning: Slight cursing, other than that, none that I know of (but feel free to correct me)

Words: 3.1k

Masterlist | Next Part

A/N: This is the first time I'm posting here, I hope you enjoy it. Happy Reading

Final year of high school was somewhat a bliss for a student athlete like Y/N. Everything should be perfect from then on. Grades, soccer games, even soccer practice needs to be perfect. If she wants to go to her dream university in California, she needs to do everything by the book. Be a model student, win games as a Captain of the soccer team, be everything. Being strained in a small town in Tennessee after moving a couple years ago, she did not expect to be where she is in life right now. It's too early to tell but she knows what she wants and she will get there however means necessary.

She was not rich by all means but their family got by. Her mom inherited a huge house in Tennessee from her father, then an incident happened and next thing she knows, she's flying from Australia to a place she's never heard of.

"Great job, guys! That's all for today, now go wash up and go to your class." Coach Boris Fillmore dismissed them.

Y/N was the first to the locker rooms. She has literature with Mr. Miller and she's somewhat excited when it comes to that class so she did not want to be late. Unfortunately for her, she's a few minutes late.

"Good Morning, Mr. Miller. I'm sorry I'm late." She said, panting while she sat beside her classmate Winnie Black, a girl from last semester.

Their teacher, Jonathan Miller turned to her with a smile.

"I was just starting, Ms. Y/L/N." He said, and he started the class.

"You smell nice." Y/N heard Winnie whisper beside her. This girl has always been a flirt, especially with their coach.

She turned to Winnie with a smile before flicking a paper in her face. "Stop hitting on me, you creep." She joked, hearing the girl giggle before their attention went to the front to focus on whatever Mr. Miller was teaching them.

"That's all for today's class, I expect your reviews on my desk first thing in the morning before our next class." Mr. Miller dismissed them, clapping his hands together to remove the remnants of the chalk that were stuck in them.

After Y/N finished putting her things inside her bag, she stood up and went to the front to speak with their teacher.

"Hey, Mr. Miller?" Y/N called out, making their teacher turn to her with a smile, he was always smiling.

"Yeah?"

"Here's an excuse letter for all the soccer team. Game's on the night before passing. I can pass the assignment earlier." Y/N said, handing out a paper to Mr. Miller who scanned it.

The older teacher nodded as he raised his head to look at her. "I'll be here. You can pass it before or after you win us that game. Good luck."

"Thanks, Mr. Miller. Have a great day." Y/N said before she started to walk back when she bumped into someone, making their things fall to the ground.

"Holy shit, I'm so sorry." She apologized but immediately stopped when she saw who she bumped into.

Short girl, tanned skin, freckles on her face, brunette hair, and her captivating brown eyes. Cairo Sweet.

"I'm sorry." Y/N said once again before she stooped down to grab all the books down the floor.

She heard a small giggle before Cairo stooped down to help her pick up the books that fell. "Better watch where you're going next time, superstar." Cairo said, smiling as Y/N handed her the books.

Y/N couldn't help but smile. She's had the biggest crush on Cairo since she's first seen the girl walking to school. Their houses are just a few blocks away. Since then, she would always ride her bike to school, hoping to catch a glimpse of Cairo before she got to practice. And without fail, she would pass by Cairo on the road and that would make her entire day.

"We have a game on saturday night. Do you think you could come and watch?" Y/N asked, getting all shy.

Cairo smiled. "I'll check in on my schedule."

Y/N nodded before she walked back, still smiling as she stared at the brunette girl and ended up bumping into someone again. Y/N immediately apologized before turning to Cairo who was already giggling.

"See you saturday night, Cairo." She reminded before she ran off to save herself from further humiliation.

"You're all smiles and shit." Jasmine, a friend from her soccer team said as she sat down in their physics class, taught by their coach Mr. Fillmore.

"I finally talked to her." She informed her friend, her smile not leaving her face.

"With who?"

"Cairo Sweet."

Jasmine howlered before slapping her hard on the arm which made her groan as she rubbed the soar place. "You finally did it!"

"I finally did, huh?" She said, grinning like a crazy love sick girl.

"Y/L/N, Smith, eyes up front!" Coach Fillmore called which made them straighten themselves up, but their knowing looks were there.

Before saturday, Y/N is back in Mr. Miller's classroom to pass her essay. She wanted to be a good student and not take advantage of being a star athlete. Her father always told her to focus more on being a student than being an athlete and she kept that in mind until now.

"You're early." Mr. Miller greeted her as soon as she stepped inside his classroom.

"Good morning, sir. I'm gonna pass my essay since Coach would excuse us the entire day for training. It's semis and it's a huge deal." She said, handing the teacher her polished essay.

Mr. Miller nodded. "Make sure you win us that championship or I'd fail you and tell Coach Boris to do the same in your physics class."

She chuckled. "No, you won't."

"Yes, I will."

"No, you will not."

"Yes, I will."

"Nah, you don't have the balls to do it, sir." She jokes which got her a howler from the incoming Coach, with coffee and biscuits in hands, and a laugh from their literature teacher.

"Training starts in ten, what are you doing here Y/L/N?" Coach Fillmore asked, handing Mr. Miller his coffee and laying down a biscuit on the front table.

"Mr. Miller here is threatening to fail me if we lose the championship, he's dragging your ass out to do so."

Coach Fillmore gave his friend a look before laughing. "That's not gonna happen."

"That's what I'm saying. Because I'm gonna make sure we win that championship and wave that cup in Mr. Miller's face together with my MVP cup." She said confidently and jokingly, making the two older men laugh.

"You're a cocky one, get your ass out here." Coach Fillmore said to which Y/N nodded. "And get a biscuit on the way out, you're gonna need that."

Y/N did get a biscuit and smiled at her two favourite teachers. "Later, Mr. Miller. Be ready to be humiliated when we get that championship."

"She's still not done?" She heard Coach Fillmore say.

"I'll be waiting here in my classroom." Mr. Miller followed.

By Saturday night, Y/N's nerves are on the roof. Their opponent is one of the strongest in the high school league and they're legacy. They've won 4 back to back championships and they were hard on Y/N since she came.

"I'm gonna go get some air before we start." Y/N told Jasmine who nodded.

While she was out praying and pacing, she felt a small tap on her shoulder. And what greeted her made her forget the nerves, only her smile and the presence of the person mattered from here on.

"You came... and you dragged Winnie with yah." Y/N said, glancing at Winne who had a teasing smile as she waved her fingers.

"Actually, Winne dragged me here with her, I did not intend to come."

"Why are you here?" Y/N asked Winnie who rolled her eyes.

"She wanted to watch Coach Fillmore in action." Cairo was the one who answered.

Y/N turned to Cairo with furrowed brows. "Coach Fillmore's not playing."

"But he will be out there frustrated and hot." Winnie finally spoke, making Y/N roll her eyes.

"Lay off him, will you? He's happy, contented."

"He hasn't had me yet." Winnie said with a flirtatious grin, her brows wriggling.

"That's disgusting. How about I hook you up with some of my jock friends? That's more appropriate."

"Mm-mm." She heard Cairo, making her turn to the brunette. "She doesn't like smelly cocky jocks."

"They're all rough and sweaty. I want something delicate and gentle."

Y/N made a face of disgust. "That's incredibly disturbing. And you're public enemy number 1 for me."

Winnie snorted. "You're just saying that because you don't want Cairo to have the same thinking as me."

Y/N kept quiet about that statement. But Winnie just laughed. "Oh boohoo, everyone in this school knows you're whipped for Cairo. Since sophomore years."

"Hence the reason you're public enemy number 1." Y/N said, not caring if Cairo's staring at her with this new found information. The shyness and shame is far out of her body at this point.

"Whatever you say, superstar. Go back in there, I can see my man looking for you." Winnie said, staring at a distance.

Sure enough, Coach Fillmore is out there seemingly looking for her.

"I gotta go. You two look for seats. Thanks for coming, Cairo." Y/N finally said, starting to jog back to the dugout.

"You're whipped!" She heard Winnie shout.

"And you're on my hit list!" She shouted with a smile.

"Good luck!" She heard Cairo saying which made her giddy inside.

"Where the hell have you been?" Coach Fillmore said as soon as she got to him. "Get your ass inside."

The two of them walked back to the dugout for a motivational speech from the coach. When Coach Fillmore was done, she got her stage.

"One thing, I got a girl I really really want to impress seated in one of those stands. And if we lose, I will make you all regret it." She threatened, which got her a whistling and howling from her teammates.

"That's not our problem, Cap." One of her mates said, chuckling.

"Oh, but it will be. If we lose this game, you're gonna get it from me." Coach Fillmore said, making everyone groan. "Now, get your ass out there and get us that win."

"How come you have coach on your side?!" Jasmine whined as they got out to start their game.

Y/N just shrugged as they focused. The announcer called both teams to the field and even without going out, they could hear the loud cheering and stumping. They all lined up side by side with the opponent team to have the anthem before the game started.

The first 30 minutes was a play of getting the ball and staying on the field for sheer amusement. It was boring for most people but for some, they can feel the heat starting to as the halftime comes.

"Y/N!" Jasmine shouted and passed the ball towards her. It's a free goal, she got the ball, ran her ass out and kicked it for the goal.

"And that's the first goal of the night from the Ravens' team captain Y/N Y/L/N!" The commentator shouted as the stands erupt in cheers.

She slid her way and did her celebratory dance with her teams, the cheering getting louder.

"Come on, come on!" They heard Coach Fillmore shouting as well.

The rest of the first half was them defending their post until halftime.

"That's was a great job, guys!" Coach told everyone as they cheered on the locker room for their ten minute halftime.

"They're seething. I saw them glaring at us before we went back." Y/N told their coach who nodded.

"That is why you're gonna be subbed out." He said.

There was a series of complaints but the Coach blew his whistle and they all shut up.

"Coach, you can't let her sit this second half down, they're gonna chew our asses out! We barely managed to defend them!" Jasmine said, as a matter of fact.

"Do you trust me?" Coach asked them, looking at them one by one.

There was a series of humming and yesses.

"Then you have to let me do what I do best. That is to coach you." He assured them.

"We're gonna get our asses handed to us in the second half." Y/N told their coach who walked to her.

"Do you trust me?" Coach Fillmore asked one more time but Y/N turned her head away from the older man. "Do you trust me, Y/N?"

The Captain looked at this coach, reading him. Then she nodded. "Yes, sir." Her Aussie accent coming out.

Coach Fillmore nodded as he tapped her shoulder. "Now, this is going to be the longest 40 minutes of your lives. They're gonna play whatever play they can to win and get back that point. And I want you all to give it your best shot to defend that goal post and that point you all so painfully got."

They did their team hands before they went back to the fields where Y/N sat her pretty ass down, or not. She was standing beside Coach Fillmore, watching her teammates struggle to defend the ball.

"And that is a goal for the Sharks! Great play from their team captain Trish Hudson!" The announcer exclaimed which Y/N groaned in annoyance. It was an easy goal.

The team was right, they did get their ass handed to them not less than 20 minutes in the game. Y/N was pleading to their coach but it fell on deaf ears.

"And that's another goal for the Sharks!" The commentator said.

Y/N was about to go all Lucifer on it when she noticed something from the other team's captain.

"She's limping." She said, making Coach Fillmore turn to her.

"What?" He asked curiously.

"Their star scorer, she's limping. Look." She said, nodding at the other team's captain and sure enough, she was celebrating but she was limping on her right leg.

"You're right. Why is that?" Coach asked, turning to her with furrowed brows.

"Someone rough housed her."

"One of our own? Why do you think so?" He was sceptical

"I know so. They're kinda holding out on a thread out there. An accident maybe?" She said, shrugging her shoulders.

"What did I tell yah?" He said, smiling widely at her.

"Call for the time out, then." She said with a smile and he did call for a time out.

"Alright! We're subbing Y/N back in." He informed their team with a smile.

"Finally!" Jasmine cheered as she let her head fall back.

"What made you change your mind, coach?" One of the teammates asked.

"She's limping." Y/N answered.

"What? Who?" Someone asked.

"Hudson, she's limping. Who rough housed her?" Y/N asked, looking at them one by one. "Come on, no one's blaming yah, she's a machine."

"How would we know? They're boxing us out, if we happened to kick their sheen, it would be an accident." Jasmine reasoned.

"Point taken. Now, go get us that win!" Coach said after the time out and in goes Y/N again.

She was defending the other team's captain and when the ball got to her foot, she immediately ran to the post, was about to kick the ball when she felt a sting on her left leg, making her fall. It was a bad slam.

She immediately stood up but it was still stinging from the cleats. The player got a yellow and a free ball was given.

"You got this Y/N/N!" She heard her team shouting as she closed her eyes, focused on the post, AND GOAL!

"What a wonderful hat trick from the Raven's captain Y/N Y/L/N! This seemed like an overtime coming up!" The commentator said as they celebrated.

"Let's go!" She shouted despite the aching on her left sheen but she did not mind that one bit.

Then the game continued, with 3 minutes remaining on the clock and everyone was doing their hardest to keep the ball alive, no one scoring and the defence was tight.

It was in the Ravens' possession and they were trying hard to get to the post but they were being boxed out. So when Y/N found a hole, she got the ball from her teammate and ran it like there's no tomorrow. She was being chased by 2 players but she mind nothing. The next thing she knows, her left leg was being slammed on, her face was bleeding and the ball was in Jasmine's possession...

"And goal! Right before the clock! The Ravens' take the win for the semi finals! What a goal from Jasmine Smith!" The stands erupted as everyone cheered.

Cairo has been holding her breath since the last five minutes, she's seen how the other team was playing dirty and they're aiming at Y/N. Her heart almost stopped when Y/N fell to the ground right before Jasmine scored. Even with the loud cheering and all, her eyes never left Y/N who pushed herself up and limped to her teammates, her face bleeding.

"That seemed like a bad cut." Winnie said worriedly, but Cairo still never left her gaze on Y/N who got body slammed by her teammates.

When everything was calmed, Cairo pulled Winnie with her to the lockers to check on Y/N and sure enough, she was just done getting patched up.

"That looked like a bad fall." Cairo said, walking towards Y/N who had an ice bag on her left leg and a few butterfly band aid on her right eyebrow.

Y/N's face immediately lit up as soon as she saw Cairo standing in front of her.

"Hey. Did you like the game?" She asked, fixing herself.

"It was boring." Cairo answered with a shrug.

"She was holding her breath the entire time you were out on the field." Winnie chimed in, making Cairo glare at her.

"You were?" Y/N asked, her smile widened at the thought.

"Don't be all cocky, now." Cairo rolled her eyes.

Winnie let out a playful gagging sound before she walked out. "I'll leave you two lovebirds in here while I go find Coach Boris."

"Lay off him!" Y/N shouted again but it fell on deaf ears.

Y/N shook her head before she turned to Cairo who was watching her with a small smile.

"So this is what you do huh?" Cairo said, walking towards her until she was in front of Y/N who was looking up. Despite her sitting down, she's still almost as tall as Cairo. What an adorable sight.

"Since I could remember, yeah."

With hesitation, Cairo held a hand on Y/N's cut, caressing it gently. The taller girl leaned in to the touch, her body relaxing despite her heart pounding in her chest, she thought it was gonna jump out of her body any time soon.

"Is it bad?" Cairo asked softly, making her open her eyes to look at the lovely brown eyes staring at her.

"Nothing I can take." She whispered.

Cairo smiled sweetly before she let her hand fall on her side as she stepped back. Y/N was disappointed and aching to bring that warmth back but she stayed quiet.

"Congratulations on the win. You did great out there." Cairo said with a smile, her cute dimples showing leaned down to give her a sweet kiss on the cheek.

Y/N watched as the brunette turned around and started walking. "Will you be watching the finals? I could use a little energizer."

Cairo turned her head to her with a smile. "I'll think about it." She said and she was out the door in a blink of an eye.

"You're gonna be the death of me, Cairo Sweet."

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet #cairo sweet x reader #miller's girl #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega

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dumbsoftheart · 1 year ago

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pas de deux

pairing: ballerina!reader x university!coriolanus snow

tags: 18+, mdni. dub-con, semi-public sex, oral sex (fem receiving), creampie, vaginal sex, dirty talk, power play, manipulation

summary: corio is tasked with writing an exposé on his university’s prized ballet student for the school’s newsletter.

notes: self indulging on my perfectionism being ruined for coryo’s self-pleasure!

word count: 4.9k

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coriolanus hated this assignment with the same fervour and passion he hated writing for his school’s publication. the only reason he’d even applied for the position was because he knew of the ways it would put him on the scene- articles and reviews with his name plastered over them were unavoidable to anyone who had half a brain to engage in thoughtful composition. he enjoyed writing critical pieces on political discourse or literature, anything that challenged him to peel back the layers of society and dissect it, persuade others to align with his mode of thinking, so the mere thought of his byline etched onto an article about ballet- of all things- made him want to curl up and die. he tried oh so desperately to pass on the assignment to one of his female partners, and even tried his hand at requesting his supervisor for a new assignment entirely, but he was coldly dismissed and cast away to the hallowed halls of the university's dance studio. he didn't notice how frustrated he’d actually felt until he flinched behind the sound of the studio door slamming behind him, clashing uglily with the buzzing noise of music that flooded his eardrums. it was unnecessarily loud, but he knew you could hear him enter. his jaw clenched the more you ignored his presence.

instead, you focused on the strains of music you’d become uncomfortably accustomed to. the melodic rhythm of the cantilena you choreographed to consumed your body in a symphony of music. each note was dictated thoughtfully with the graceful movements you now begrudgingly danced for the stranger, weaving a story that transcended words, one only understood through the language of dance. as you traversed the space, your movements harmonised seamlessly with the refined tune, a testament to the years of dedication and passion you poured into this art form. you grew frustrated at the way his presence clashed discordantly against the elegance of your dancing and disrupted the harmony of the room. you watched in the corner of your eye how he marched his way to the centre of the room, lingering only a few steps behind you as you danced. you caught him clear his throat one, two, then three times. it grated against your patience, forcing you to stop dancing abruptly and march past him with the same conviction as he did to shut off the music, a huff escaping your lips at the sudden quiet as you stared expectantly at the tall boy before you. you watched his fists clench and then flex before he turned to face you, his pearly blond hair falling ever so slightly out of place from the speed at which he’d turned on his heel.

"can i help you?" the words slipped from your lips, delivered with a flatness that barely concealed the tinge of annoyance behind it. your hand found its place resting on your hip, a subtle gesture reinforcing your composed stance, determined to maintain an air of indifference.

“coriolanus snow. i’ve been assigned to write a review on you and your dancing for the university newsletter,” his introduction sounded pompous, as though he assumed you already knew of his identity. of course, you knew the name very well- his reputation preceded him. you couldnt deny that you too had once or twice been privy to the occasional swooning over the quite popular boy, but you found that now as he stood in front of you, tall and beautiful as he was, you felt a growing discontent for the man and his obnoxiously bright hair. yet, you clung fiercely to the facade of ignorance, a guise of disinterest veiling the curiosity that lingered beneath the surface. you held your head high, refusing to grant him the satisfaction of acknowledging his perceived importance in your realm of artistry.

you pretended to think before a moment, before turning back to the speaker and switching the sound back on, gesturing for him to sit. you rolled your eyes at his request to turn the volume down. despite you hating everything that had to do with this review, you were aware of the potential impact this coverage had on your burgeoning career. you acquiesced, lowering the volume to appease his demand, a concession made not out of respect for the boy but rather with your future in mind. you knew the power coriolanus held with his words, as much as you hated it, and you knew you couldn't risk jeopardising your future at the sake of a little attitude.

so, with an inward sigh and a curt nod, you allowed him to observe. you positioned yourself within the room as you waited to pick up on the rhythm of the music where you left off, quickly finding your place among the complexities of the song in a manner that seemed impossible had it not been for your tireless work and memorization of every single note and harmony of the song.

as snow observed your movements, he jotted down comments in a small leatherbound notebook, his pen scrawling his disdain. "lacks depth," he muttered under his breath, pausing to look up pensively at your figure.

the comment caught you so off guard it took every bit of strength in you to not fall with the abruptness at which you stopped. lacks depth? what the hell would he know? you felt rage burn inside your chest, only fueled by the way he stared at you as if he had said nothing wrong.

“what about my dance lacks depth, snow?” the question hung in the air, and you watched his adams apple bob up and down through the mirror as he swallowed, glancing briefly at his notes before looking back up at you.

"the dance is fine, quite beautiful, i might say, but your movements lack the emotional vibrancy expected from a performance of this calibre," he responded, "there's an absence of connection, it feels superficial and fails to convey the intended depth of expression."

he spoke with a measured confidence, and you scrunched your brows at his words. you didnt expect him to know the first thing about ballet, and you still stood by that sentiment, but part of you wondered if he was speaking truthfully- a consequence of the sensitivity you harbour in relation to your artistry. dance was everything, and while ballet trained you to accustom yourself to harsh criticism, you always held those criticisms to your heart, and it pushed you to always do better than you had before.

despite this, your shoulders never slumped, nor did you show any physical acknowledgement to his critique, only moving to turn your gaze from his cobalt eyes in the mirror to look him in them truly, strutting your way back to the speaker and restarting the song, determined to prove him wrong.

“you restart the song when you feel i’m ‘lacking depth’, so i can know whether or not to call bullshit.”

the two of you went at it for a while. he only gave you a few seconds at first before he continuously restarted the song, but you danced for him nonetheless. over, and over again. when you thought you’d finally caught him, he’d restart the song a few seconds later, and it took everything in you to not scream in frustration at the top of your lungs. you wanted to strangle him, in truth, especially when you caught a glance at his smirk the 12th time he’d restarted the music.

it was nearly midnight by the time he’d given you some respite, and you made no effort to be hospitable as you collected your things and stormed out the door without a word. you pretended to ignore the scribbles on his notebook as you rushed passed him, unable to make sense of the haphazard writing. you hated him. the way he seemed to try seize control of your creative space and your studio made you go mad. additionally, you were convinced he was only trying to get under your skin, and you hated that it worked- even if you refused to show it (or more appropriately, tried not to show it, because coriolanus reveled in the fact that he did, in fact, get under your skin).

coriolanus, on the other hand, walked out of the studio feeling quite prideful. he adored the effect he had on you: how despite his ignorance on your mastered art, he absorbed the control in the room. he adored seeing you struggle to keep up to his standards, watching your face twist with effort as you danced over and over again, all for him. watching the muscles of your shoulders and legs flex, the arches of your back and neck, the way you exposed yourself to him repeatedly- it festered a strange desire in him to tear you apart. you were so meticulous with how you danced that it made you look fragile. with every twist and turn of your body coriolanus felt his breath catch in his throat as if he were afraid if you moved slightly too much, you would shatter. only, he wanted to be the one to break you: tear away that meticulousness and precision built into you and mould it in a way that was perfectly suited for him. he wanted to dismantle that untouchable image you carried, strip you away of your elegance and create a dependence that would tether you to him alone. it made him care about your performance more than he wanted to admit. not because he cared for you, per se, and your success, but because he’d developed a carnal urge to shape you into perfection solely for his own satisfaction. knowing that onstage, your dance was now catered just for him, to his own liking? the thought made coriolanus’s pants grow tight with lust.

the week progressed following the same routine: he would sit and watch you overwork yourself at his beck and call until your eyes filled with tears of anger and your body would give out and he’d leave you panting on the dance room floor, killing yourself until you got it just right. the boy was acutely aware of the mental struggles that accompanied ballet- the pursuit of perfection, the strive for excellence, the intensity of the competition and the pressure to excel. he knew how hardly you critiqued yourself and used it to his advantage; knowing if he played his cards right, soon enough he’d have you wrapped around his finger, begging him for that validation you needed to keep going.

your performance was on saturday, and the way you worked yourself over the dreadful symphony of music had you lacking sleep. you couldn’t stop- even after you and coriolanus parted ways. you found yourself practising in your dorm room, counting steps on your way to class- you knew deep down that coriolanus’s article really meant nothing, as the man knew nothing about what he asked of you, and your success wasn’t at all tied to his review; but you were unable to stop. a voice nagged at you that it did matter. that somehow his influence could ruin you and everything you’d worked for. you knew how badly he was getting to you when the two of you crossed paths on your way to class.

he took in the sight of you: your hair done perfectly, not a single hair misplaced, your pink tights and leotard, the pink cover-up skirt you adorned neatly wrapped around your waist with a perfect bow. he took in your lips, swollen and red from the anxious biting you’d fallen into the habit of doing again, the way you messily tried to cover up your dark under eyes with concealer and draw attention away from it with haphazards amount of blush. in passing, you’d simply given him a nod, but he was quick to grab you, looping his finger under your chin and forcing you to stare into those piercing cobalt eyes of his as he studied you.

“you should wear white instead. pink washes you out,” he mumbled to you before turning away, his tall figure disappearing into one of the lecture halls behind you. had it been a few days prior, you would’ve found it in you to bite back. only now, you bit at your manicured fingernails as you dragged your fingers across the silky white pointe shoes in your favourite dancewear boutique, followed by the white leotard and tights you brought home with you that night.

౨ׅৎ

“i need a break,” you sighed. it was the night before your performance, and only now did coryo have the decency to step back for a moment in his unrelenting pursuit of perfecting you. he nodded, shutting off the music as he watched you saunter towards your dance bag, downing half the contents of your water bottle with short pants. he stood to meet you, making his way behind you and resting his slender fingers on your tense shoulders.

“whats bothering you, bunny?” the pet name sent a small shiver down your spine, and coriolanus threw his head back slightly at the feeling of you shudder, gathering all his strength to contain himself. you turned to face him, and he felt his dick harden at the vulnerability in your eyes. the fire that once burned behind them was fizzling, and he could tell. your mouth was parted as you searched for the right thing to say, but the words caught in your throat.

“is it the dance?” he pressed, his face now dangerously close to yours, and you croaked out a small yes as his hand made its way up to your hair, his thumb stroking it gently, “you know it’s perfect, darling, you and i have been making it perfect all week long, no? show me which part is bothering you.”

your head spun as he spoke to you- his fingers stroking your hair, the way his voice was now all of a sudden so soft; contrary to the stern way he’d spoken to you all week. but what really dizzied you was the sudden validation he’d given you. the casual way he threw it at you; as if it was what was known all along, as if you were crazy to think otherwise.

you stumbled back towards the centre of the room, slowly positioning yourself as you waited for his go-ahead, form snapping into movement as soon as the music filled your ears. you watched in the mirror as coriolanus paced behind you, his chin in his hand as he watched you and pondered. your eyes closed with focus, moving with such ease that it felt second nature to you. then, the music seized, and you froze in place as you raised your head to look up at the man now in front of you.

“you’re too tense,” he murmured, moving to press his hands into the soft skin of your shoulders, massaging the strained muscle gently. it did nothing at getting you to relax. inside, you were fuming as you replayed the past week in your head. you’d worked yourself dry all for the approval of a man whose opinion you couldn’t care less about. you let your guard down for a sliver of a moment and he used it to get inside your head. you hated him with every fibre in your being, and his breathing down your neck only fueled the fire burning inside of you.

“get off of me.”

“just relax.” the way he whispered it was short of anything kind, spat at you with annoyance as he tightened his grip on you.

“i said get off!” it was the loudest you’d spoken all day. it was barely a shout, but it was enough for the man to recoil from behind you. you breathed shakily, hands trembling at your side. when you turned to face him, you nearly flinched at the sight of him. his usually perfectly combed back hair was now a mess, curls fallen out of place as he ran his hand through the golden strands harshly. you both stared at each other for what seemed to be an eternity, panting heavily, waiting for the other to say or do anything to loosen the tension that filled the studio air.

he looked down at the floor for a second, tonguing his cheek with a smile before surging forward, crashing his chapped lips into your plump, soft ones with a groan. you tried to push him away, but his grip on your face was too strong- and you couldn’t ignore the way your legs turned to jelly from the way he kissed you with an undying hunger. one hand made its way down your waist as he moved you backwards into the large studio mirror, your head thumping painfully against the glass, pain mixing with pleasure as coryo attacked your lips and dragged his hands all over your body, savouring the warmth of your skin through the fabric of your garments.

“so good for me,” he groaned against your neck, the hot breath of his words sending shivers straight down to your core, “so perfect.. so pliable.. all for me. isnt that right, princess?”

it was truly embarrassing, the way his words made you moan softly and rub your thighs together with want. embarrassing how compliant you’d become for him, how eager you were to please him. he took notice of the pathetic state you were in, watching with glossy and swollen lips how your legs trembled and your hips stuttered in a desperate attempt to gain friction against your growing heat.

“look at that, so fucking precious,” he continued to watch you struggle, laughing softly to himself before snaking his hand between your thighs, cupping your cunt and slowly encouraging you to rock your hips back and forth. you whined at the contact, relief and pleasure swarming you as you ground yourself into the palm of his hand, gripping tightly onto the curls at the back of his head for leverage. lost in bliss, you barely noticed when the man made his way down to his knees, lip bitten so hard you swore you could smell the metallic scent of blood peer through your senses as he toyed his fingers across your clothed cunt. you moved to remove your small skirt, untying the meticulous bow around your waist and tossing it to the side. when your hand reached to remove your leotard, coriolanus removed his hand with a small chuckle.

“what do you think you’re doing?” he tutted, and you whined at the sight of him below you, willing and able to keep pleasuring you but withholding that power. you scrunched your brows together with confusion, and coriolanus thought you’d never looked so beautiful: face flushed with heat, writhing above him while your hips urged for his fingers to touch you again. too lost in the pleasure that lingered, head thrashing from side to side with pleads to keep going- he wanted to ruin you.

“good girls wait and do what they’re told. are you gonna be a good girl for me?” he chuckled at the way you shook your head aggressively, savouring your small moans as he returned his hand to where you wanted it most. a loud gasp escaped your lips when he ripped your tights viciously, the soft torn fabric now giving him better access to the skin of your thighs. he splayed his hands over them, massaging your muscles and soft tissue before pulling your leotard to the side and diving his tongue into the wetness of your folds.

he pulled back with a moan, gasping as he peered down at the mixture of his spit and your slick connecting your cunt to his chin, and he looked up at you like you were a god, sticky and wet from the most trivial of touches.

“you’re so wet for me, princess- such a good girl. you’re so good for me,” you couldn't get a word out before he took a long swipe with the flat of his tongue, lapping messily and so, so loudly- chasing the taste of you. he loved teasing you with his mouth. he thought about it that day, unashamed as he jerked his cock into nothingness when he caught sight of you on campus earlier that day, dressed all in white- just for him. the small gesture was enough confirmation to him that he’d won at the game you two were playing, that you let him break you into submission and you were now his to claim. the thought of taking ownership of you by reducing you to nothingness with his tongue alone had him cumming onto his stomach with a loud, broken cry. now, he had you right where he wanted- and he wasn’t going to let that pass just yet.

he relished every sound and movement you made when he flicked his tongue up and down your lips, relished the tears that fell when he slowly circled it around your swollen clit, rejoiced in the way you gripped his curls tighter when he tongued your hole, gazing up at your already fucked out faced with pure lust and admiration when you came undone and released yourself into his mouth. he continued to lap and suck every moan and whine out of you until you cried with overstimulation. he stood up, licking his lips and stared down at you like a predator who’d hunted its prey.

“you did so good for me, bunny,” he mewled, kissing your neck softly as you came down from your high. you had started to gain back your senses, and a wave of humiliation washed over you. the man you claimed to hate had just given you the best orgasm of your life, and suddenly you could no longer find it in you to hate him again. every fibre in your body ached when he praised you, called you good and cooed in your ear as you regained your strength. you continued to cry, no longer out of pleasure but in self-disappointment. you felt the urge to scream and lash out at him for robbing you of your senses, for reducing you to a state where the tiniest shred of approval clouded every bit your perspectives until you couldn’t figure out left from right. he continued to coo in your ear as you sobbed, but your eyes widened with fear when you heard the small sound of a zipper and looked down to see his cock in his hands, pumping slowly as he made his way into you.

he shushed every one of your protests, his lips pressed tight against your collarbone as you tried to push away from him when his tip made contact with your hole, “be good, bunny, be good for me,” he chanted into your skin and your body broke down into more sobs as you willingly let him push into you. alarms were blaring in your head for you to stop giving into him, but your body was unrelenting and begging with want- and so all you did was cry as he thrust slowly into you, small moans of praise nonsensically falling from his lips as your cunt struggled to take all of him in.

the way he mumbled his sweet words into your neck and the slow stretch of his cock prying you open had your brain short-circuiting, the sweet tone of his voice once again making you lose all sense of what was unfolding before you. you winced as he tried to thrust his length deeper into you.

coriolanus didn’t like that. he took the sounds of complaint as direct disobedience. he wanted to hear nothing but your begging- he wanted you to thank him for letting you have his cock, and hear nothing but your loud moans and pathetic mewls as he fucked you. he grabbed at your bun, yanking your head back with such force that the once perfectly smoothed back hair came undone painfully, strands falling to your face and wisping at your shoulders.

“does it hurt?” he asked, and for a moment you thought he was trying to take you with care, but when you nodded and his grip tightened on your hair, you knew you were oh so wrong, “i thought i told you to be a good, fucking. girl.”

he thrusted into you harshly with each word and you cried out in pain, his cock stretching you out far beyond what you could handle, overstimulation making your knees buckle and tears fall from your eyes again.

“thats it, baby. take it, be a good girl and take my cock.”

your fingers dug into his back and coriolanus let out a loud, lewd moan, unable to peel his eyes away from the sight of his cock thrusting without preamble into the slick mess of your cunt. he threw his head back as you moaned through your cries, and thrusted even harder when you wrapped a leg around him to let him fuck you even deeper.

he moved to rip off the top of your leotard, licking his lips hungrily as he watched your tits fall and bounce in tandem with his thrusts. he dove his head down, latching his lips onto your hardened nipple and sucking harshly, nipping and biting the soft flesh while his hand pinched and flicked at the other one.

you were incoherent. your stop’s had turned into more’s and your sobs turned into that of pure desire. you threw your head to the side and gasped at the spectacle the two of you were making of yourselves in the middle of the dance studio. the mirror you were pressed up against had begun to fog up along the silhouette of your body pressed up against it, the cool glass dripping condensation onto your back and through your ruined clothes as coryo fucked you into oblivion. he looked right at you now, his fingers making their way to lace into yours as he pressed you even closer to him, your arms now bound against the coolness of the mirror.

“fuck, princess, you’re so fucking tight. so tight for me, yeah? gonna make this pussy mine,” your head spun with his words and the constant pumping of his cock, unable to contain the obscene sounds you let out. you were so close, and the way you tightened around him as you chased your release almost had him cumming prematurely.

“you gonna let me make you mine, huh bunny?”

“fuck, yes!”

“s’at right? gonna let me claim you? such a good girl.”

you moved your hips against his with no rhythm, simply in pursuit of the orgasm that coiled in the pit of your stomach. you kept your eyes on his, your mouth open with pants as you urged him to keep going. he hiked one hand behind the knee you had wrapped around him, the other one pulling you up so you were off the ground, letting him fuck you in a way that hit all the right spots in all the right places, and you just about lost it right there.

he smiled, “you like that?”

“uh-huh..”

“you want me to keep going?”

“please- please dont stop, coryo, please!”

his cries got louder, moans twisting up into a slightly higher octave, his face scrunched with pleasure as your cunt clenched around him with each of his words.

“gonna fill you up with my cum, baby. is that what you want? for me to breed you?” he babbled, voice trembling, “gonna fuck you full of cum ‘n make you mine. no one else can have you.” his voice got weaker as his hips pivoted upwards to thrust even deeper. he was in complete in control of you; his elbows hooked beneath your knees and opening a new gateway to your soul.

“naughty fucking girl, huh? ‘s alright, good girls get to be naughty sometimes..”

“i’m gonna cum,” you whined pathetically, rambling over and over as it was the only thing you could think of. you were so close, and each word he groaned at you brought you infinitely closer.

“you wanna cum?”

“i want- i want it so bad.”

“s’at right?”

“please, coryo- god, please! ‘m gonna be good for you. so good for you, daddy—”

your words collapsed into meaningless cries and shattered sentences— fuckyesyesyes— and cumonmycockbaby— as you worked each other towards release. you pulled him deeper to your center, tightening around him as the coil in your stomach finally burst and you saw white. you both came with a loud moan, yours no doubt shattering through the walls of the confined space, and coriolanus released his load into you with a long, droned out fuuuuuck as he slowly pumped his cum into you, mesmerised by the way it mixed and swirled with the mess of your own release. you whined at the overstimulation, body still jerking from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but coriolanus only felt himself grow harder.

“coryo, i cant..”

he snapped up at you, gaze softening as he took in your tear stained and fucked out face. he took your face in one hand, squeezing your jaw tightly and admiring the slight cross-eyed look you had on and the dribble of spit falling from your perfect lips. he cocked his head to the side, smiling coyly.

“oh, bunny, you don’t have a choice..”

౨ׅৎ

@dumbsoftheart, 2023

#coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow smut #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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glowettee · 5 months ago

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studying like spencer hastings: a guide by mindy on becoming rosewood's top student 📚 (pll mini-series part 1)

hey loves! mindy here with an in-depth guide on how to truly embody spencer hastings' iconic study methods. i completely watched all 7 seasons of pretty little liars with my mother when the show first came out, it gives me so much nostalgia now, and i'm currently binge-watching it again. i decided to make a post based on spencer hastings and how she aces the "study icon" in the show. let's actually get into the mind of our favorite overachieving hastings sister and her actual study habits from the show.

spencer's signature study locations

the hastings' barn (her perfect study sanctuary)

the brew (corner table with coffee always)

rosewood high library (usually after hours)

her bedroom desk (facing the dilaurentis house)

hastings family kitchen island (late night cramming spot)

the hastings family pressure approach

spencer's drive comes from:

competing with melissa's academic record

maintaining the hastings family reputation

being top of every class

getting into upenn (her family legacy)

running for academic decathlon

spencer's actual study routine (as seen in pll)

morning routine:

field hockey practice at dawn

review notes during breakfast

morning newspaper with coffee

quiz herself while getting ready

arrive early to help teachers

study techniques we see spencer use:

reciting french verbs while stress-cleaning

creating murder boards (but make it academic)

using her photographic memory skills

studying while on the elliptical

recording herself reading notes

spencer-specific organization methods

her iconic planner system:

color-coded by subject and priority

sticky tabs for important deadlines

cross-referencing system

weekly, monthly, and semester goals

extracurricular schedule integration

the hastings approach to academic competition

remember when spencer:

joined academic decathlon despite drama

competed against mona

studied russian history all night

memorized entire poems

practiced debate skills with melissa

spencer's stress management (what we should and shouldn't copy)

healthy habits:

stress baking

field hockey as outlet

piano playing breaks

organizing when anxious

intense research sessions

things to avoid:

pushing herself to exhaustion

skipping meals for studying

letting competition consume you

isolating from friends

spencer's actual study materials (seen throughout pll)

her desk essentials:

leather-bound planners

monogrammed notebooks

post-it notes everywhere

family laptop

classic literature collection

ap study guides

debate team materials

newspaper clippings

french dictionaries

spencer's unique study methods

specific techniques we see her use:

creating conspiracy theory boards for subjects

turning historical events into mystery cases

debating with herself in the mirror

teaching aria and emily to boost understanding

writing perfect notes during crisis moments

the hastings time management system

how spencer balances:

field hockey team captain duties

maintaining perfect grades

student government

russian history club

debate team

family obligations

solving mysteries (kidding… kind of)

spencer's power moves

signature spencer habits:

correcting teachers (iconic but maybe don't)

knowing answers before questions are finished

having backup assignments ready

keeping extra credit work on hand

maintaining perfect attendance despite being threatened by a mysterious stalker

spencer hastings didn't become valedictorian by accident. her intense dedication, although sometimes extreme, shows us the importance of commitment and passion in academics. just remember to balance it better than she did!

sending you all the hastings determination minus the hastings family drama! ✨

xoxo, mindy

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hwaslayer · 1 year ago

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project: make you love me (jyh) | seventeen.

♣︎ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: yunho can’t stand how you’re so wrapped up in the notorious campus fuckboy, park seonghwa. he would gladly love you the way you deserve, despite being shy, awkward and the complete opposite of seonghwa. thus, when he finds himself spending more time with you over literature reviews and random study sessions, he decides to take on the challenge to win you over.

—pairing: jeong yunho x f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers/friends to lovers, college au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 3.4k

—chapter content/warnings: cussing/mature language, flashback scene btwn yuyu & oc, anxiety & overthinking, some crying, [very soft and lazy] unprotected makeup sex <33

Yunho sighs as he pours some hot water into his cup, dipping the tea bag into the scorching hot water a few times before letting it settle. He stands near the balcony door of the apartment, blinds raised so he can watch the rain and wind from inside.

"Jeez, it's fucking crazy outside." Yunho turns over his shoulder to Yeosang, who is getting ready to make some ramen. "And it's freezing."

"Yeah, it is. Such a random storm." Yunho sips on his tea.

"Why are you acting like such an old man right now?" Yunho lets out a chuckle at the remark. "Have you talked to Y/N?"

"No, not yet." He sighs, making his way to the kitchen island to talk to Yeosang more closely.

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I was gonna ask her to come over but it's raining like crazy. I'll probably wait till it dies down."

"Your hand doing okay?" Yeosang nods at his hand, making Yunho flash it his way. "Hm. Bruising has gone down. He deserved that shit."

"Tell me about it."

"Well, not to play devil's advocate at the wrong time, but I truly don't think Y/N meant to hurt you."

"I know. I just—" He sighs again and shakes his head. "He pissed me off. I didn't wanna take it out on her. Truthfully, I wasn't really over it until.. probably this morning." Yunho shrugs.

"Yeah, I get that."

"It's not her. It's him. Fucking can't stand him. I hope he gets the picture now because I'm not going anywhere."

"And you shouldn't. He'd be stupid to keep testing you. I'm sure that was more than enough for him to realize."

"Yeah, I don't know. Whatever. Just keep him the fuck away from me." Yunho subtly rolls his eyes. "I miss her, though. I know she wouldn't do anything to hurt me."

"She's a good person. It's very clear she feels the same exact way for you as you do for her." Yunho traces the rim of his cup, missing your kisses and your company terribly, even though it's really only been a full day since you two last talked.

"I really love that girl." He lets out a small chuckle. "Like.. really love her."

"Cute." Yeosang smiles as he pours the hot water into his ramen cup. "You finally gonna say it to her once you two talk?"

"Probably, yeah." He looks at Yeosang. "It's crazy to me. I wasn't expecting anything out of this when I started helping her with her lit assignments. Now, I can't even picture my days without her."

"You should text her."

"I will, once the weather calms down a bit."

"What do your plans with her look like after graduation?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I mean, obviously, I'll always be here to support her and I'll try to stay close as much as possible. But, eventually, I do wanna settle in a job and make enough for us to move in together."

"Wow, really?" Yunho nods. "You see your life with her?"

"Does it sound weird to say that?"

"No, not at all."

"I just wanna be able to come home to her and spend time with her." Yunho sips his tea, the sound of the harsh wind and tree branches hitting the window slightly startling the both of them.

"Damn. Yeah, probably good to just wait until the weather settles down." Yeosang flips the lid to his ramen and starts stirring the noodles around. "Wanna hop on a game?"

"Yeah, sure." Yunho chuckles, standing to make his way to his room and play for a bit.

Meanwhile, you've tossed and turned on your bed, unsure of what to do with yourself for the day. Chaery sat at her desk, studying with her headphones on; prepping for a big test coming up in the following week. It was probably the third [or fourth] time you've scrolled through your phone in the past 5 minutes, finding ways to distract yourself even though you were only waiting to see if Yunho would text.

He didn't though.

The last text he sent was his response to you yesterday morning after the whole squabble with Seonghwa, a quick little—

you: goodmorning yunho, have a good day today 💕

yunho: you too, y/n.

The dry, sad response is enough to trigger that awful feeling in your stomach— enough for you to toss your phone and lay on your side, hoping everything could just wash over and pass.

♣︎ FLASHBACK

"Have you seen Yunho today?" You shake your head.

"No. I feel like he's just avoiding me right now." You say with your head hung low.

"Babe, he's not avoiding you. You're his girlfriend."

"Then, why does it feel that way? Usually he'd try to come see me and send me off before class or something. He hasn't even texted me after I said 'good morning' and 'have a good day.'"

"Maybe he really just needs time to get over it, Y/N." Chaery adds as you two continue to walk towards the library. "I mean.. think about it. He stumbled upon you two and suddenly found himself in a fight with your crazy ex-fling. Plus, this was also his way of finding out about the bouquet. It's probably so overwhelming and frustrating, mainly because of Seonghwa. I get him. I wouldn't wanna talk to my girlfriend while I'm still upset because I know I'd probably say things I'd regret."

"Mmyeah.." Is all you say. The moment you take the last few steps up to the library, Yunho is exiting and comes through the door. You stop in your tracks as your eyes land on him, a sad, sympathetic look captured on your face.

You are so, so beautiful. Yunho feels like you'll be the death of him one day.

He almost makes it visibly known how much you've caught him off guard. He swallows the lump in his throat and walks over— one hand in his pant pocket, the other hanging onto the backpack strap.

"Hey." Is all he says before giving you a one-armed [tight] hug.

"Hey babe."

"Yuyu, my favorite person in the entire planet!" Chaery gives him a playful little punch on the arm, making him chuckle. "Y/N, I'll wait for you inside, okay?" She gives you a reassuring smile before leaving you and Yunho.

"Off to class?" You stupidly ask already knowing his schedule, but he nods anyway.

"Yeah. Did you sleep okay?" He brushes the hair away from your face.

"I don't know."

"Yeah, same." He sighs.

"Should we talk then?"

"Not now." He doesn't mean to sound mean or dismissive, but he truly doesn't think he has it in him to talk properly about this yet. "Just not ready to yet. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I understand." You feel the tears well up in your eyes, causing you to shift your attention elsewhere to prevent them from falling.

"Hey." Yunho pulls you in for a hug. "We'll talk about it soon. Promise." He kisses the top of your head before letting you go. "Have a good rest of your day, okay?"

"You too." You give him a small, tight-lipped smile before watching him walk past you to his next class— your heart dropping, cracks slowly breaking at the surface.

You missed him, and you were only hoping it'd get better from here. You were ready to move past this.

All of this.

♣︎ END

Your bottom lip trembles as you stand and throw on Yunho's hoodie, slipping the hood over your head before wiping away at the residual tears streaming down your cheeks. You understood Yunho needed time, but you couldn't wait another day of not talking to him.

Not hugging him.

Cuddling him.

Kissing him.

You missed Yunho, and you were afraid he was realizing he didn't feel the same— that maybe, this was the way it would all slowly fizzle out. That maybe, this didn't turn out to be what he expected or wanted. Every minute you continued to overthink made you more and more anxious. You couldn't sit this one out anymore. Not any longer.

"Babe, where are you going?" You pop into the room after a quick bathroom break, fixing your pajamas onto the edge of your bed while Chaery continues to sit at her desk. "It's literally storming outside."

"I need to talk to Yunho." She looks at you worriedly, turning her chair towards you completely.

"Love. I know. I know you wanna talk to him, but don't you think you should wait until the storm passes?"

"It's just across the lot."

"Still. It's kinda crazy out there."

"Chaery, I need to talk to him. I can't let another day pass. I won't." You murmur as you grab a pair of sneakers. "I'll be back, okay?" She sighs.

"Just be careful, please. I really don't want you to get sick or anything."

"I know. I'll be careful." You give her a tiny smile before heading towards the door.

"Um, please tell me you aren't actually going out there right now?" Seungmin asks with a brow cocked up as he stands in the kitchen. You slip into your shoes and slightly tilt your head, meeting his gaze.

"I really need to talk to Yunho."

"Do you want me to walk you over there? It's super windy and raining like crazy."

"It's okay."

"Sure? Take an umbrella."

"I'll run over."

"Please don't get sick. I seriously can walk you over just to be your umbrella dude."

"I promise I'll be okay, Seungmo. Thank you. I'll be fast as lightning speed."

"Alright. Be safe. I hope it goes well. I'm sure he misses you, too." You give him a small smile before heading out. As soon as you head out of the front door, the gusty wind hits you, along with the rain slapping you along the side of your face. You pull Yunho's hood a little more over your head, clinching it at the neck to keep it tight. No matter what you do, or how fast you run to his building, you're still being rained on like crazy.

Yunho's hoodie and your sweats are soaked, and you hate the feeling of damp clothes against your skin. But, you needed to do this.

You needed to see him.

You shakily bring your phone up to your ear after dialing his number, sweater paws wiping away at your nose and cheeks.

"Y/N?"

"Yunho."

"You okay?"

"I'm outside your door."

"You're what? Why did you come here when it's storming like shit outside?" You can hear him shuffling towards the door, hands quick to unlock it. He sees you and his heart instantly shatters into pieces. You're in his hoodie, wet from the rain; random strands of hair sticking to your face. Your grey sweats have traces of the rain scattered on all sides, and god, Yunho wants to embrace you and hold you so badly. "Y/N." He says, almost disappointingly as he grabs at your hand to bring you inside. "Why would you do that?"

"I had to see you and talk to you." You look at him, bottom lip trembling again as you hold back your tears. He clicks his teeth before leading you into the room. He quickly grabs a change of clothes for you before handing it over and nodding towards the bathroom.

"You should get comfy first." You silently nod, taking the clothes in your hands before waddling to the bathroom. You strip out of his clothes and hop into the shower for a quick wash-up, his freshly laundered clothes feeling good against your skin afterwards.

When you get into Yunho's room, he's slouched on his computer chair while pressing away on the controller resting against his lap. He turns towards you when he hears you drop the clothes into his hamper, pausing his current game and setting the controller aside.

"Hope you don't mind me throwing those into your hamper."

"Course not." He sits on the edge on his bed, watching as you sit next to him. "What's going on?"

"Yunho, I'm really sorry. I know you needed time and everything, but I couldn't stand us not talking to each other and being awkward after everything. It's my fault. I should've just told you about them in the first place, I don't know why I hesitated." You're crying now, and Yunho melts. He knows you're sincerely sorry, and he knows you would never intentionally hurt him. Truly, he meant to take this time just to let his anger for Seonghwa pass. He didn't wanna let that bleed onto you, nor did you deserve that, so he wanted to make sure he was completely over it before anything. He was gonna text you today and ask you to come over, but he waited because of the rain. He should've known you wouldn't have cared, though. "It was so, so stupid. But, I didn't mean any of it. I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry, I—" You continue to go on through your crying, but Yunho gently shushes you and pulls you onto his lap.

"Hey, come here. Don't cry. It's okay."

"No, it's not." You pout.

"Baby." He gives off a tiny chuckle before wiping your tears and kissing your forehead. "I know you're sorry, okay? I really just needed the time to make sure I was over it. I didn't want to accidentally take out my anger on you or do anything stupid when you don't deserve it. That's all. I was gonna ask you to come by today, but it started raining." He lets out a breath. "Should've known you wouldn't have cared though, hm?" You shake your head. "No more crying."

"I just want us to be okay. I didn't mean to hurt you, Yuyu."

"I know you didn't. We're okay. I'm not upset with you."

"Are you sure?" He pauses just as he looks at you, thumb coming to caress the surface of your cheek before coming down to your bottom lip.

"Well, why don't you just be mine, hm? Just like I am for you. How does that sound?"

"Wouldn't want it any other way." Yunho chuckles and kisses you on the tip of your nose. You instantly wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly while still on his lap, taking in all of him while he gently rubs at your back. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." Your hands are resting at the nape of his neck, fingers gently threading through the ends of his hair. Yunho's hands are slowly rubbing at your sides, the warmth of his hands transferring onto the surface of your bare skin.

"Can I see your hand?" He chuckles a bit and raises his hand in front of you, knuckles still slightly reddish-purple in hue from the punch.

"It's fine." You give him a look before planting soft kisses at his knuckles, turning his palm upward to place some kisses there.

"Yunho?"

"Mhm?"

"I love you." His eyes widen a bit as his mind registers what you just said. His lips turn upward into a smile, planting a chaste kiss to yours before responding with a—

"I love you too, baby." He kisses you again, smiling against your lips. "Can you promise me one other thing?"

"Hm?"

"Please don't trek over here when it's raining like this outside. I don't want you to get sick."

"It's just across the lot."

"Promise me." He furrows his brows ever so slightly to get his point across.

"Fine." You pout.

"Say it."

"I promise." You say in a somewhat whiny tone, making Yunho let out a small laugh.

"You're such a brat."

"Mm, but you just said you love this brat."

"Yeah." He bites onto his bottom lip. "I do. I really do." You giggle, kissing him once more. Though Yunho has always been affectionate and vocal about his feelings for you, his next action is unexpected and catches you a bit off guard. He simply rests his head against your chest and holds you tightly, breathing regularly as his fingers gently rub circles on your sides. He doesn't say anything, causing you to look down at him and wonder if he's truly okay.

"What's wrong?" You ask while wrapping your arms around him, fingers massaging at his scalp.

"I just want you to be honest with me. I don't want you to feel scared about coming to me about these things because I'm with you, not against you." He responds softly, cheek still pressed against your chest. "That goes to say that I would never do anything to jeopardize this. I don't wanna lose you." He looks up at you with those puppy dog eyes and you can't help but release a shaky sigh. Your lips fold into a small frown as you cup his cheek, shaking your head at the statement.

"You could never do anything to jeopardize this, Yunho. I'm not going anywhere. This was my fault, and I'm sorry for not coming to you sooner about this. I promise I'll be better. I know you're here for me, and I know you would never do anything to hurt me either."

"Can you tell me? Honestly. Do you miss anything about Seonghwa?"

"No, I could never. It was so stupid and I didn't mean to mislead or confuse you. I could never go back to that. I don't want to. All I want is you."

"Okay." Is all he responds with. "I feel the same way. You mean a lot to me, Y/N. I mean that more than anything."

"I know, Yunho. I feel the same way." He gives you a tiny, toothless smile before releasing his arms from around you.

"Wanna lay down and take a nap with me?"

"That sounds really nice right now." You smile as you hop off his lap and settle into the sheets. Yunho shuts off his computer, the only sounds echoing in the room is the strong wind hitting the window, rain splattering against the glass. He slips under the covers, pulling you close to him to keep you warm. His fingers start threading through your hair as you quietly look up at him; no words being exchanged in this very moment.

"Sleepy?" Yunho breaks the silence with a soft question.

"No. I just like it when you play with my hair." You shut your eyes in satisfaction.

"Of course." Yunho kisses your forehead before moving down to the tip of your nose.

Lips.

Chin.

"I thought you wanted to nap?" You subtly bite onto your bottom lip when Yunho leaves sweet kisses on the edge of your jaw and neck.

"I do." He says in between kisses, tongue soothing the surface of your neck after little nibbles.

"This doesn't look like a nap to me."

"No, but we'll definitely take one after." He smirks against your skin, hands roaming up your shirt. He squeezes your side before his hand moves up to your breast— playing with your nipple before giving your boob a good grope.

"Yunho." You whine, hands tugging at the ends of his hair. Sooner or later, you find yourself straddling Yunho— lazily working your hips while he lays back and watches you. Everything about this moment is slow, sweet, sensual; every kiss, every move, filled with love and affection. He bites onto his bottom lip as his hands rest on your hip, fingers slightly digging into the surface as he helps guide you. You've still got his shirt on, and he's still got his, too— sweats pulled down enough to ride him. It's so lazy, but so intimate, especially with the storm in the background.

It feels perfect and enough.

You let out soft moans and whimpers, Yunho whispering sweet praises about how good you feel and how perfect you are. He never fails to remind you how beautiful you are and how much you mean to him, even in the most compromising positions. But his words drip with gold, low groans and hisses dipped in honey.

Everything about Yunho is so, so sweet.

"Fuck." You whimper, brows pulled together as your mouth is slacked open— orgasm quick to build, close to toppling over on the edge.

"That's it, baby." Yunho replies as he tries his hardest to hold on. "Wanna cum for me?" You nod, pace increasing just enough to make you come undone in the next few rolls of the hips. You let out a few curses in between moans, while Yunho continues to pound upward into you to find his own release.

"That was definitely not a nap, Yunho." You continue to sit on top of him to regulate your breathing and come back down from your high.

"Ah, no. But, that nap does sound nice now, doesn't it?" You giggle when he taps your hips, the both of you letting out small whines when you finally pull your bodies apart from each other. He grabs some wipes and helps you clean up before following suit on himself, slipping back into the covers for said nap.

"Yunho."

"That's me." He says, eyes already shut as he holds you close.

"I love you. And I'm sorry. I wanna keep doing better for you."

"I love you, too. Don't be sorry. We're learning together, princess." He lets out a breath before kissing you on the forehead. "Come on, let's take a nap. It's not like we can go anywhere anyways." You chuckle against his chest, feeling happy and content that all is well; that you're finally in his Yunho's arms again.

♣︎ taglist: @s-nsanshine @soupbinlily @tyongff-ff @jiminiscricket @g1g1l @staytinyinmybpack @woomyteez @gfksz @bitchwhytho @savluvsmingi @thisisntmyrightera @hyukssunflower @miriamxsworld @tmtxtf @kuromibabe04 @lmnhead @carrietwrites @tournesol155 @persphonesorchid @txt-yaomi @mxnsxngie @h-nji @mundayoonimnida @jalapeno-princess @nakiiko @asjkdk @kunikku @idkwgoh @kyeos4ng @agust-d2 @araknoid @bintificreads @primoppang @betray-the-light @aurorasjoongie @wineyoungie @yunhotteokkk @yungigiggles @jaerisdiction @ignoretheskies @luminouskalopsia @naeviscall @vixensss @choisansplushie @arya9111 @my-lightspirit @dazednconfusion @astro-doll-the-star @faesmingi @idfkeddieishot @startinystay @emily505 @mgdixon @mcsalterego @cheynalexilaiho @svintsandghosts @mismatchfluffysocks @meeitany

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haleswallows · 7 months ago

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I’ve Been the Forest and the Fire (and the Witness Watching It) DC x DP Dead on Main (Jason Todd/Danny Fenton) Teen Soulmates AU

Chapter 2!

Teaser:

"This is bullshit."

His soulmate turns around at the sound of his voice. Freezes. He looks tired and scrungly and of course. Because the universe hates Jason, so of course the asshole is also in the class he's taking for his Maths Gen-Ed credit.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jason stands over him. "Aren't you supposed to be really good at math, or something? Why are you in an intro level class?"

His eyes are huge. "I don't test well and did bad on the placement exam."

"Great," Jason seethes. A twisting in his gut makes him feel like he's about to throw up. The soul bond demands proximity with his 'other half'. Chronically contrarian, Jason fights the instinct and the rising nausea before giving in. He slides into the desk next to his soulmate. The discomfort immediately eases. "Fucking fantastic."

There's attempts at a conversation. Jason ignores it in favor of getting himself settled. Pulls a copy of the list of accommodations he'll need that the Student Affairs Office helped him put together. Subtly scopes the room - for exits, and the best desk for when he brings Ace.

Ignores the put-out expression, the longing looks coming from his right.

Thankfully, the professor focuses on reviewing the syllabus only. And assigns a set of problems. What sort of jerk assigns homework on the first day?

Students scramble for the exit as soon as the dismissal comes. Asshole looks like he has something to say, but Jason just… he can't. Refuses. Before he gets subjected to what the fuck ever the asshole thinks he needs to say, Jason snags the professor.

He's vaguely aware of his soulmate lingering, and then eventually leaving. His gut clenches and his hands shake.

•○●○•

Jason stops in his tracks. The asshole looks at him. Jason glares back.

He's in Jason's literature course too.

"Whoa, 'scuse me," another student mumbles, side-stepping around Jason and his cane where he's standing stock-still in the doorway. Fuck.

OK. Fine. He has two classes with the piece of shit. Jason's dealt with worse.

He doesn't sit next to him, finding a seat in the second row and near the door. It's strategic. Less walking, a better view of the board. There'll be more room in the aisle for Ace when he starts bringing him. Jason stakes his claim - this'll be his desk for the semester.

The asshole can sit in the back like a delinquent. Jason doesn't care. He can't see him from here anyway.

The professor - mid-30s, bearded, Southern accent - makes them do an ice-breaker game. Jason wants to die.

Professor 'Just call me Justin' holds up a bag of Jolly Ranchers, directs them to take one and pass the bag down the line. Jason fiddles with the wrapper of his 'cherry' (it doesn't taste like cherry, he can't be convinced otherwise) while the bag makes its journey, and Justin makes an odd list on the board.

Grape for a favorite poem, Blue Raspberry for a pet's name, Lime for best vacation, Watermelon for 'what you wanted to be when you grew up', and Cherry for favorite food.

"Alright, everyone got a candy?" Justin claps the chalk dust from his hands. "Great, I'll start. I'm Justin," the class titters. Yes, they know. "Lime! So, I taught English in Japan for four years. My favorite vacation was to some traditional hot springs in Osaka. Next…. you!"

The random student pointed to blushes. "Oh! Uh, Karmine. Blue, my family's dog is named Cesar."

"Hi, Karmine! Pick your victim."

She shrinks a little, points randomly. It goes on like that - name, flavor, stupid random fact. It's dumb. There's cringing and some laughs at the stupid pet names. Then someone - Samir, Jason now knows - points to him.

As if he isn't a local celebrity that's had his photo in every newspaper multiple times since he was 12. And that tabloids theorize about his relationship with Bruce, or why Bruce is 'ashamed of him' as a cripple.

"Jason, chili dogs from Dave's stand." In between the pitying looks, a few nod knowingly. Locals, then. He ignores the smattering of whispers, no doubt picking up on theory crafting about him where Vicki Vale left off.

He taps the desk of the guy next to him. And away it goes, another name, flavor, and answer.

Jason's tapped out, vaguely listening but mostly only keeping track of who hasn't gone. It's background noise, all he wants is to talk to the professor and go the fuck home. When —.

"Danny. Uh, watermelon. I wanted to be an astronaut." The asshole smiles shyly, then ducks his head and rubs the back of his head.

Gross. Jason knows his name now. He frowns and the asshole — Danny — sees it, the smile dropping off his face.

Gross. He turns forward, Danny pointing to one of the few remaining people. It's hard to breathe and the wrapper of the Jolly Rancher is sticky when he unwraps it. Pops it in it his mouth.

Gross. Fake cherry.

#dead on main #dcxdp fic #dcxdp #my writing #soulmates au #ongoing #Pain on main

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librarycards · 1 month ago

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i'm starting grad school soon (course-based master's though!)!! any tips?

indeed! here's a list

practice reading differently. your reading volume has gone up exponentially since undergrad, and you can no longer conceivably read all of everything you're assigned very closely before class. try your hand at speed-reading, seeking out and highlighting key words and points, and tracking thesis/argument-evidence-implications without laboring over every single word.

get zotero. use it. i am actually bad at this but i know it works because it helps whenever i do. save books and notes and make categories for different disciplines/classes!

make friends in your cohort/classes. you will NEED people you can bitch to who know exactly what you're bitching about. you will probably also need their help/insight on at least a few difficult readings, and vice-versa.

this is obvious, but PIRATE YOUR BOOKS if they are not already given to you.

another great way to get the most out of your readings, especially very "classic" ones, is looking up others' book reviews/criticisms of said readings on google scholar. it helps to be able to draw on others' insights/outside literature, especially if and when you will need to write a term paper on that reading. you'll already have citations locked down.

don't be afraid to ask your professors if you can do something unconventional for an assignment. generally, they want the course to be useful to you more than they want uniformity.

don't be afraid to chat in general with professors, visiting scholars, etc. go to conferences whenever you can. sign up for listservs. network. this will help you down the line, even if you don't stay in academia. i have cool queer, trans, disabled people i can stay with across the country and around the world, in part as a result of academic networking and conferencing.

speaking of which, disability works differently in grad school. in my experience, grad school provided many more opportunities for accommodation with a lot less "proof" needed on your end, because we are all adults with needs who can be trusted to attend to said needs as we need to. i didn't register with my university when i started this program, and instead was candid with my profs about needing my zoom camera off when that was a thing; needing to leave the room at times; and needing flexibility with days off.

some profs will suck. this is why you need friends to bitch with! there usually isn't much you can do, however, being in grad school means you do have more temporal flexibility (and also flexibility in what classes you actually need to take). i've dropped several classes bc the professor just sucked.

have fun and enjoy yourself! grad school is a special time that you get to devote to your very niche thing, and have other people genuinely give a shit about it. your whole job is to be the nichest little autistic bitch in the establishment. it is a challenge at first to get accustomed to the norms, especially if (like me) no one in your family has gotten an MA or PhD before. but it gets easier and is 100% doable, and gets even easier with a strong support system.

good luck and yippee!!

#ask #academia #bloomingtrans

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academicfever · 5 months ago

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This is a good starting point but its not exhaustive by any means...

#Research 101: Part 1

## How to find a good research topic?

It’s best to familiarize yourself with a discipline or topic as broadly as possible by looking beyond academia

Tips:

Be enthusiastic, but not unrealistic. For example, you might be tempted to throw yourself into finding out to what extent an entire economy has become circular, but it may already be challenging and tricky enough to find out which building materials are being recycled in the construction sector, and in what ways.

Be open-minded but beware of cul-de-sacs. You should always find out first whether enough is known about a topic already, or you might find yourself wasting a lot of time on it.

Be creative but stay close to the assignment. This starts with the topic itself; if one learning objective of the assignment is to carry out a survey, it isn’t helpful to choose a topic for which you need to find respondents on the other side of the world. One place where you can look for inspiration is current events.

Although professors and lecturers tend to be extremely busy, they are often enthusiastic about motivated and smart students who are interested in their research field. You do need to approach them with focused questions, though, and not just general talk such as: ‘Do you know of a good topic for me?’ In many cases, a good starting point is the scholar themselves. Do a search on them in a search engine, take a look at their university web page, read recent publications,

In most university towns, you’ll come across organizations that hold regular lectures, debates, and thematic evenings, often in partnership with or organized by university lecturers and professors. If you’re interested in transdisciplinary research where academic knowledge and practical knowledge come together, this is certainly a useful place to start your search.

If you want to do interdisciplinary research, it is essential to understand and work with concepts and theories from different research fields, so that you are able to draw links between them (see Menken and Keestra (2016) on why theory is important for this). With an eye to your ‘interdisciplinary’ academic training, it is therefore a good idea to start your first steps in research with concepts and theories.

##How to do Lit Review:

Although texts in different academic disciplines can differ significantly in terms of structure, form, and length, almost all academic articles (research articles and literature reports) share a number of characteristics:

They are published in scholarly journals with expert editorial boards

These journals are peer-reviewed

These articles are written by authors who have no direct commercial or political interest in the topic on which they are writing

There are also non-academic research reports such as UN reports, data from statistics institutes, and government reports. Although these are not, strictly speaking, peer-reviewed, the reliability of these sources means that their contents can be assumed to be valid

You can usually include grey literature in your research bibliography, but if you’re not sure, you can ask your lecturer or supervisor whether the source you’ve found meets the requirements.

Google and Wikipedia are unreliable: the former due to its commercial interests, the latter because anyone, in principle, can adjust the information and few checks are made on the content.

disciplinary and interdisciplinary search machines with extensive search functions for specialized databases, such as the Web of Science, Pubmed, Science Direct, and Scopus

Search methods All of these search engines allow you to search for scholarly sources in different ways. You can search by topic, author, year of publication, and journal name. Some tips for searching for literature: 1. Use a combination of search terms that accurately describes your topic. 2. You should use mainly English search terms, given that English is the main language of communication in academia. 3. Try multiple search terms to unearth the sources you need. a. Ensure that you know a number of synonyms for your main topic b. Use the search engine’s thesaurus function (if available) to map out related concepts.

During your search, it is advisable to keep track of the keywords and search combinations you use. This will allow you to check for blind spots in your search strategy, and you can get feedback on improving the search combinations. Some search engines automatically keep a record of this.

Exploratory reading How do you make a selection from the enormous number of articles that are often available on a topic? Keep the following four questions in mind, and use them to guide your literature review: ■■ What is already known about my topic and in which discipline is the topic discussed? ■■ Which theories and concepts are used and discussed within the scope of my topic, and how are they defined? ■■ How is my topic researched and what different research methods are there? ■■ Which questions remain unanswered and what has yet to be researched?

$$ Speed reading:

Run through the titles, abstracts, and keywords of the articles at the top of your list and work out which ideas (concepts) keep coming back.

Next, use the abstract to figure out what these concepts mean, and also try to see whether they are connected and whether this differs for each study.

If you are unable to work out what the concepts mean, based on the context, don’t hesitate to use dictionaries or search engines.

Make a list of the concepts that occur most frequently in these texts and try to draw links between them.

A good way to do this is to use a concept map, which sets out the links between the concepts in a visual way.

All being well, by now you will have found a list of articles and used them to identify several concepts and theories. From these, try to select the theories and concepts that you want to explore further. Selecting at this stage will help you to frame and focus your research. The next step is to discover to what extent these articles deal with these concepts and theories in similar or different ways, and how combining these concepts and theories leads to different outcomes. In order to do this, you will need to read more thoroughly and make a detailed record of what you’ve learned.

next: part 2

part 3

part 4

last part

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lookwhatyoumademelou · 5 months ago

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#ok happy it was not just me who got the literature review assignment wrong lmao me and my virtual classmates writing a literature report #instead it seems haha well the prof is giving us an optional extra credit assignment bc enough of us expressed our displeasure on our grade #from the essay so i think it would be alright to assume i wasnt the only one who was surprised that i missed something in this whole lit #review assignment haha so the extra credit is worth up to 20 points that can be added to our essay grade and the assignment itself is to #help us better understand what a lit review is and how to write one successfully ahead of the 2nd essay literature review we have due in tw #weeks lmao we have all week until this extra credit assignment is due so thats good too #well i like this idea at least and this opportunity to raise my c+ essay grade and also further understand what the fuck im doing with thes #assignments lmao not particulary jazzed about having to do this assignment but its optional but obv im gonna do it to get the extra credit #points and the practice to learn what the fuck to do so i can do it on my 2nd essay and get a better overall grade next time #so happy that everyone else was also unhappy with this essay assignment lmao #just grad school things

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imaginesbymk · 3 months ago

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MARSTON. ━︎━︎ ZSAKUVA STRICT PROFESSOR !

chapter thirteen - ❝milk, sugar + luca.❞

← previous chapter: chapter twelve - "the british museum." next chapter: chapter fourteen - "feast." →

fanfic info / read it on wattpad

SYNOPSIS / Andrew is adjusting his time as a full-time professor (and a part-time boyfriend) and is given an assistant for the extra load after Jeremy's departure.

BONUS / Sakuverse character cameo (bunny boy)

──────── ✧ ────────

A N D R E W

I STOOD STILL, my mind processing the words I never thought would leave Jeremy's mouth, for all the hard work he put in to maintain his spot here at the university. I must be sleeping through my alarm right now.

"Leaving? What do you mean leaving?"

Jeremy's response did little to diffuse my confusion. "Not the university entirely," he clarified. "I'm just transferring to another campus nearby. It's a leap, no doubt, but my expertise aligns with the opportunity to head there. Andrew, you're spilling Splenda on your shoes."

I looked down and saw the contents on the tiles.

"Do you really have to go?" I hear Angela ask.

"It's an easier commute for not just myself, but my wife is on maternity leave and the job actually pays more. I would arrive home at least half an hour sooner than an hour and a half." Jeremy smiles proudly, pulling his phone out from his pants pocket. "Have I shown you all the ultrasound photos yet?"

His words hung in the air, leaving the literature professors in awe. This sudden revelation felt like a jolt to my system, disrupting the familiar rhythm of our shared academic pursuits. I couldn't help but wonder if this would happen to me one day - transferring or even resigning. Retiring, if I ever make it to the era where I grow old and wrinkly and can be qualified for senior discounts? Or earlier in my life where I live long enough to make it to see the Great Pyramids in person?

Jean-Marc's voice interjected. "C'est de la folie, Jeremy! Have you lost your mind?"

"I'm just around the corner," he reassures. "Who knows, I may come back to add a BBC news article for the students to cite."

Brushing the sweetener off my shoes, I couldn't help but express my concern. "You're leaving Chris to handle everything on his own," I pointed out, looking over at Chris who was snacking on a bowl of fruit.

Jeremy nodded, his tone confident. "Now that you've mentioned him, Chris will be taking on the workload in the literature department. I've already begun preparing him, and setting up assignments and modules for him to oversee. He'll have a head start, and you, along with your new assistant, passed down from myself, will manage the rest of the year."

I stopped sliding away the sweetener. "My what?"

Angela unlocks the passcode of her phone. "Look, my husband did the same thing in editing before we met. He never ended up liking it so it was a waste of his time and meanwhile, his colleagues were just drowning in extra workload. I hope you reconsider this. One man down could change up the whole game."

"Speaking of one man down, Professor Fadden is at life-or-death with his job. Is it true that he's self-medicating?" Jean-Marc sat down at one of the tables, peeling a Granny Smith apple.

"Allegedly, maybe it's just that he's simply a weirdo since the jump. But people have been speculating about it for months."

I've been quiet for a minute now. No comment. It's unfortunate, but not right to gossip about allegations. I've learned firsthand how damaging rumours can be, and how they can tarnish a person's reputation and shatter their sense of self. I've been through that storm once before, and I'll give anything to avoid it a second time.

Once I track down James Zylos and hold him fully accountable for the review, I can say that my life is calm. I have my teaching job. I have Y/N. I have an outstanding tea collection. I have a roof over my head. I've worked hard to rebuild my image, or at least cover the past of it. I refuse to let anyone or anything make me vulnerable in that way again. The shadows of the past haunt me, reminding me of the pain and the isolation it brought.

The pressure of all that can suffocate like a true crime. It's a lonely journey, one I wouldn't wish upon anyone. Perhaps it was true, given I've seen his behaviour and his physical state through his eyes, paranoid and fidgeting, but as annoying as he can get, why would I care about Professor Fadden and what he's up to?

A more important question is why the Literature department would care about a Math professor. Who told them about him self-medicating, regardless if it was true or not? Maybe someone confused an ibuprofen bottle.

I grabbed the sweeper and dustpan and finished cleaning the Splenda off the floor, and they were still talking about it, like we were huddled in a high school hallway, exchanging each other gossip like teenagers. I felt uneasy at the thought of them reading those reviews about me, the thought of anything happening to me and them talking about it like what they were doing right now.

If all a friend can do is constantly gossip to you about another friend and nothing else meaningful, chances are they may do the same thing about you.

And just like straight out of a movie, the next professor to walk into the lounge room was no other than himself. I remember Jean-Marc warned Angela to not let him in the lounge anymore, and the last time he was here, he was frantically stuffing anything he could grab in his pockets like he was raiding us blind. He never compensated our lounge kitchen with new packs of milk and sugar.

I sat there, my heart pounding in my chest for this man I found obnoxious, someone who does not understand time and place in social cues, as Professor Fadden entered the lounge room. The atmosphere instantly became tense, the silence hanging heavy in the air. It was as if the room itself held its breath. Did he hear them? Could he know that they were just talking about him through the door?

"We got a full house, eh?" Professor Fadden's voice cut through the awkward silence, his eyes scanning the room, catching the gaze of each person present. His words were casual, but there was a hint of apprehension in his tone.

I watched as the Math professor made his way toward the kettle, attempting to engage in some small talk. "I did quite the cardio just to get hot water. Even the kettle back at the applied sciences department is broken."

"Doesn't make it okay to just use ours," His tone seemed valid, but Jeremy's words were laced with rudeness. The response was nothing short of polite. I would have expected Angela to say something as such, but Jeremy, who was like a mentor to all of us here, fostering us with balance and leadership in the department, is now ready to depart from our group, not without a passive-aggressive comment to leave behind on some poor guy. I was disappointed.

I grimaced at their behaviour. Professor Fadden, however, appeared unfazed by their remarks. He simply shrugged off their rudeness and offered a polite smile as he prepared to leave. "A bientôt!" he said to Jean-Marc. He shuts the door on the way out.

──────── ✧ ────────

A DAY PASSES. In the early hours of this Tuesday morning, I can feel the university grow stronger and I can tell because more of the students have lined up for coffee. I noticed the flight services students in their uniforms rendered the lunch line from 14:00. The female students paced a bit in their spots but all they seemed to grow concerned about was not the pain of blisters developing on the back of their heels but of the sushi bento boxes running out so fast at the hub. People kept grabbing them because it was a couple of pounds less on Tuesdays.

But today on this Tuesday I packed my lunch from home. Perhaps I didn't need the kettle and the organizer that kept the milk, cream or sugar packs that Professor Fadden took with him. My thermos kept my Earl Grey warm and I prepped a balanced meal.

After finishing my meal I resumed my work and used my office hours to aid some of my students, including this one who had a complaint.

"I know I'm two lessons behind but I have no reason to come here if this could have easily been an email," they sigh, waiting to be dismissed.

"Three," I correct them. "Three lectures behind."

"You give a lot of tentative instructions in long emails and I read them just fine."

"What? As if we've been conducting a whole thread of emails this past week? I understand, Penelope. I do. But I much rather we have this face-to-face. For a more professional atmosphere of the office would be a good change of pace for you, and for me."

"For the last time, I did not use my past assignments for this one."

"Then why am I able to cross-reference this paragraph word-for-word, then?"

She kept protesting. I kept scolding and reasoning. No one was winning here.

After back and forth and it leading to nowhere, I had no choice but to give her the same lecture I did with Colin Jaden, or C.J... you are responsible for your tuition money. Regardless of student aid or the money coming out of yours or your parents' pockets, you do the work. No substances. No outside sources. No past assignments.

She sighs and walks out the door right when office hours were done. She slams it and I nearly jump. Careless, disrespectful students I have this semester... and that worries me.

If I really was some wicked thing that people claim I was on RateMyProfessors, I would have dropped their grade by 10% for just slamming my door like that. No one slams my door.

I hear another knock minutes after. "Come in."

A different student walks in with his bookbag. And he looked dressed.

"Sorry. Office hours have concluded."

He spoke apologetically. "O-oh! I'm not a student. I actually graduated. I'm here for the new job? I'm the assistant Jeremy and Chris referred."

Right, the assistant. "Apologies. I'm Professor Andrew Marston."

"I know! I heard great things about you," Luca smiles shyly. "My name is Luca Pearce."

We shook hands. His grip is light and a bit sweaty. "Nice to meet you, Luca. I'm assuming you went through the interview process already? Any sort of job shadowing?"

Luca nods. "Yes." As soon as he realized I'm waiting to hear his credentials, he quickly continues. "I graduated from University majoring in psychology. Afterwards, as you probably know, I became TA for Jeremy before his departure."

"That's excellent." It never really occurred to me that I have never seen Luca before until now. Jeremy only spoke of his assistant a couple times without even mentioning his name. Maybe he has and I never had it to remember.

"Thank you," he smiles.

"So just making sure, you are good with computers?"

"Yes, Professor."

"I'm talking MS Word, MS PowerPoint, Excel... then there's the University's learning management system Moodle, Outlook for the emails, do you have a keycard or a set of keys to the Literature department-"

"Yes. Again, I did graduate with a degree in psychology and been Jeremy's TA. Yes to all of it," Luca chuckles nervously. I could tell I may be coming off as too stern, as what so many people say of me. He hasn't even sat down yet. "Don't worry, Professor Marston. I'll be your shadow."

"Perfect. So, for now, I'm gonna need some help with some poetry analysis, I'd like you to cross-reference the citations using the plagiarism prevention tool..."

"Turnitin, yes. Good ol' Turnitin," Luca said brightly.

"Yes and I need help with my schedules. Especially handling the Excel tables containing my students and the scheduled timestamps for their tutorials." I motion him to come over so I can hand him the cut of my workload. "You got winter boots to break into, Luca. We're gearing up towards this new semester and I'm counting on it. Not to scare you, of course."

"I understand both parties. It's stressful for students to juggle assignments but I never imagined how stressed professors must be as well until I learned it firsthand from Jeremy."

"As long as you can work under pressure. But it's good to step back and breathe. Stress and fear of failing is common and part of the human condition. I'm glad I've found ways to work around it."

"You know what they say?" Luca chuckles. "You're married to your work?"

I could only think of the book I was reading the other night, the two-hundredth page bookmarked in The Melancholy of Resistance. "Perhaps."

"Great. W-where should I..."

"Oh, you can take a seat right there. Oh, watch your step—"

Luca Pearce knocks over the trash bin.

"Sorry. That's my fault. That's a really random place to put a trash bin..."

"No no! It was my fault, really! I—I'll pick it up—" He scrambled to gather the scattered paper, nearly knocking over a chair in the process.

I stared and watched, quite amused.

He got back up and gives me an awkward thumbs-up. I returned my focus to my desk when things seemed to calm a bit, but the moment I glanced up again, Luca drops his pen.

"Jesus—" He sighed, crouching to pick it up, his bottom pushing against the items set on his new desk.

"Careful, your laptop!"

Luca cries as he catches his laptop from falling over the edge. He pants. We both exhaled the breaths we held together.

"This sounds extremely rude, but are you in accommodated with imbalance dysfunction, some kind of neurological decline, or is this just... how you are?" I ask.

"Ahah, no, no inner ear issues. Just, um... breaking in the workspace," Luca laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.

At this rate, this young man might break the workspace. Nerves. I get it. I mentally noted this young man's impression thus far as he scrambled to pick up the dropped stationary supplies... adjusting his office chair. Skittish, nervous, clumsy. If he were to work with me from now on, this is what I would have to adjust to.

He finally settled into the chair, exhaling as if he had just had a mental breakdown and came back from sobbing and cursing at his own reflection in the mirror. "Okay! Ready to work."

I walked over and handed him a stack of papers, setting my thermos down for just a second, possibly modelling how poised and careful I handle the important stuff: my students' work. Luca reached for them a little too eagerly, nearly knocking over my thermos of Earl Grey in the process. I snatched it just in time.

Luca froze, looking at me like a child who had nearly set the kitchen on fire. "I—"

I wonder how Jeremy thought of his former assistant. "No disasters on day one, Luca. You got this," I reassure him.

"Right. Of course. No disasters. Noted."

He took the papers more cautiously this time, gripping them as if they were made of glass. I sat back, shaking my head slightly. This was going to be a long semester.

"You'll be fine. It's not like I'm making you jump through hoops to be my assistant."

Luca let out a nervous laugh, placing clicking his pen. "That's okay. I would have knock those over, too."

He opens his laptop and he types in his password, and it led straight to an open tab of some game he was playing, volume at max. He jumps and punched the volume down key, the sounds of xylophone and cartoonish music and sound effects fading into the usual white noise of my office.

I almost buried my head in my hands.

"Sorry—"

"Right." I cut him off and gestured to his workspace. "Just—sit."

"I'm sat."

"Settle in, I mean. And try not to break anything. Please."

Luca followed the instruction. "Yes, Professor." He hesitated before adding, "Uh... your tea?"

I grab my thermos and raise it in salute, walking back to my post. "Oh, and we're out of milk and sugar."

──────── ✧ ────────

#zsakuva #zsakuva andrew #zsakuva fanfic #zsakuva fandom #sakuverse #andrew marston x darling #andrew marston #professor andrew marston #strict professor #fanfiction

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zeruby16 · 1 year ago

Text

extra credit- kim jiwoong

18+ MDNI

genre: smut, fluff, romance

summary: when you're in dire need of extra credit after butchering your classical literature paper, you ask your class ta, jiwoong, for help.

word count: 3.3 k

warnings: afab! reader, dom jiwoong; usage of pet names (sweetheart, angel, good girl); cursing; oral sex (giving); fingering; penetration; protected sex (always use protection); slightest degradation kink; slight sir kink; slight exhibitionism; please let me know if i missed any!

notes: um..hey y'all so i'm back. trust me when i say this took me like three months to write because being in school made me so uninspired😭 i had major writers block and still do, but my bestie motivated me to finish this. anyways, i have not grammer checked this at all, so please spare me. i hope you all enjoy and i'll try to write more if i can!

REMINDER: 18+ MDNI

you hated the word validation, yet it’s all you’ve ever wanted.

in school, at home, with your friends, you craved hearing people compliment your hard work.

it made you feel like you were in ecstasy.

so you’d be damned if you got a b in classical literature. it would ruin your perfect gpa, your reputation with your experienced professors, and your sanity.

you needed an a. you were going to get that a.

your main obstacle was an analysis paper on pride and prejudice.

pride and prejudice for god’s sake.

everything would’ve been fine if jane austen wrote in understandable sentences, but here you were struggling to comprehend how the hell elizabeth fell for mr. darcy.

the paper was due today and you submitted whatever you could online, but you remembered your professor’s words.

“every project will be graded by me, every paper will be graded by your teacher’s assistant, kim jiwoong.”

kim jiwoong was well-known throughout your university. he was a graduate student who helped out all of his previous professors. it was very noble of him.

he was also the most beautiful man to exist. any girl dropped at his sight, including you.

you were already familiar with jiwoong.

since his previous professors were in the same major as yours, you already had him as a ta for another class.

the other class, the english renaissance, was the worst class you’ve taken.

you had done perfectly well on every assignment, but then your final happened to be cumulative and you could not remember an ounce of anything pertaining to shakespeare.

you caved and confided in jiwoong as you always struggled with cumulative finals. then, you scored a 96 on the final.

half of it was on shakespeare. you should’ve failed, but you always got an a.

you knocked on the door twice before waiting for his response.

“come in!”

once you opened the door, you were met with his focused eyes.

jiwoong was one of the nicest people you knew. he helped anyone who struggled left and right. he even offered tutoring to the students who couldn’t comprehend what went on in lecture.

you had no doubt that he was probably reviewing someone’s paper right now, so they could submit a better product.

“what can i do for you y/n?” you noticed the slight change in his posture, he had to have a clue as to what you were planning.

“i submitted my analysis paper, but i wanted to stop by and mention how i didn’t comprehend anything from the book,” your eyes contained a hint of dejection.

“i can’t do anything about it, you already submitted it,” he sternly said, you could see his hand gripping the pen he was using harder.

“i know, but i wanted to apologize beforehand. austen’s works are complex and i read the book three times, but i couldn’t conjure anything in the paper,”

“i tried jiwoong, for weeks, but nothing.”

he sighed while leaning back on his chair. it was working.

“you never struggle with papers,” he mentioned suspiciously.

“sometimes i do, it’s rare though. i’ve only ever struggled once throughout college,” you emphasized.

“what are you trying at y/n?”

“i was just wondering if there was an opportunity for extra credit,” you innocently asked. you wanted him to give in. you needed him to give in.

he pushes back his hair in distress, while staring you up and down. he may have only dealt with you once, but he knew your ruse.

“you know how wrong this is,”

“jiwoong, i am an adult, you’re an adult. there is absolutely nothing stopping us,” you moved closer to his desk, leaning on it while placing your arms down.

“my integrity will,” you chuckled.

you neared his face as you whispered in his ear, “it hasn’t stopped you before.”

“god the things you make me feel,” he muttered under his breath. you moved away from him, enjoying the teasing.

you walked backward toward the door silently begging for him to stand up. to come rush by your side and help you.

you were in dire need of his assistance.

“do you know how hard it is to see you in class?” he started, standing slowly from his chair.

“to see you laughing with those idiotic boys? to see them staring at you like they have a chance?”

jiwoong makes his way towards you, backing you into the door.

“i’m only having fun,”

“they can’t handle you y/n. you’re the smartest one in your batch and your beauty is unmatched. they don’t stand a chance,”

“and you do?” you taunted, finding his eyes and then his lips.

his hands made their way to your waist, pinning it against the door. you couldn’t help but let out a small grin at your silent victory.

“of course i do sweetheart, i’m the only one who’s made you scream,” you felt your legs give up on you as his words went straight to your core.

“i’m the only one who’s heard your beautiful moans and small whimpers while you lose yourself on my cock,” his fingers graced your breasts under your shirt.

his touch was cool, but all it made you do was burn.

you closed your eyes in delight. you forgot how deliberating jiwoong made you feel. it was why you longed for him so much after he helped you the first time.

“what happened? cat caught your tongue?” he smirked seeing you shiver under his touch.

“you act all high and mighty when we both know how easily i can change that.”

“prove it then,” you blurted, wanting to feel his everything and needing him desperately.

“i need you to say it louder sweetheart,” he caressed your face, pulling you closer to him.

“prove it,” you spoke and his lips took yours. he kissed you like you had been apart from years.

his hands bunched up the skirt you were wearing and he slightly lifted, pausing the kiss to see the view before meeting your lips again.

“you got soaked at the thought of you taking me?” he teased, your face flushed red, avoiding his eyes.

“look at me princess,” his hand forced you to meet his eyes. he was anticipating your answer.

“did you? did you fantasize about me?”

you whimpered under his touch, feeling utterly embarrassed at his words, yet you wanted more.

“yes sir, i thought of you,”

“no wonder you couldn’t write your damn paper, you were too busy thinking about getting fucked.”

jiwoong tightened the hold on your waist and guided you towards his desk, stopping when you sat yourself on top of it.

he pulled away from your lips as he quickly discarded your shirt somewhere in the office. you tossed your bra somewhere, signaling how you wanted his kiss everywhere.

he proceeded to ravish your chest, bruising you as much as he could. it was as if he wanted to prove to others how he was the only one who deserved you.

you started to feel his body under his shirt, while pulling on his hair every so often, earning grunts from him.

annoyed by his shirt, jiwoong lifts it off of himself and leans further towards you, deepening the kiss.

your hands started to reach for his cock, caressing it over his pants. you needed him more than ever.

his brows furrowed at your movements and you unzipped his pants, feeling him closer. he lets you do as you please as you pull down his pants, his boxers joining them.

seeing the hardened member, you immediately stroke it a few times before coating your hand in spit and proceeding to repeat your motions.

“god how are you so good at this?” jiwoong grunted while placing his forehead on yours.

you let go of his member and stood up, grabbing his arms in place and sitting him down on the desk instead. your knees met the carpet and you took him into mouth.

you stopped for a moment to respond to him, “i’m a hands-on learner.”

he lightly moans at your words, recalling how the last time you two were in this position he was guiding you.

in satisfaction, you continued bobbing your mouth up and down his hard-on. you took the time to tease his slit that was already coated with precum and use your hands, slightly squeezing his member.

he grabbed your hair, somewhat forcing you to quicken your pace. drool had started to spill from your mouth and you looked up at jiwoong, seeing him in absolute bliss.

“my good girl, you’re doing so well,” he cooed.

his words went straight to your core and you felt the need to please him more.

once you felt his hold on your tighten, you knew he was close to cumming. you quickened your pace while his cock started to hit the back of your throat.

his grunts were more vocal and he moaned as his cum spilled into your mouth.

you took everything into your mouth and finished off with a ‘pop’ once you were finished, smiling at him afterwards.

“you’ll be the death of me,” he commented before lifting your body up and holding it as your legs felt like jelly.

“did i do good?” you asked expectantly, jiwoong released a sigh before taking your lips.

“you did amazing, sweetheart, but i think i need a little more for you to get an a,” he chuckled.

“i’m all yours jiwoong, take me.”

he smirked at your words and made his way back to his chair. once he sat, he patted his legs.

“come here sweetheart, we’re going to grade your paper together,�� your eyes sparkled at the thought and you walked and sat yourself on his lap, facing the computer.

you shivered as you felt his warm member under you, but he stayed still. once he found your paper among many of the others, he clicked on it and placed his hands on your thighs.

the paper came up and you reread the words, remembering every line that you wrote. you were so focused on reanalysing your paper, that you failed to realize how jiwoong was starting to tease your bundle of nerves.

you let out a small gasp as his finger grazed your core, teasing you every now and then as you grabbed the desk for support.

“let’s see how you did angel,” he says into your ear as he inserts a finger inside of you.

you placed your head on his shoulder for support and he fastens the pace, while reading your paper.

“eyes on the screen, i already found a mistake,” he forces you to look at your paper highlighting the mistakes. meanwhile, he plunges another finger inside of you.

“you contradicted yourself here, how can darcy be chivalrous once sentence and then an ass in the next,”

you left his question unanswered, letting the ecstasy you were feeling sink in until his fingers stopped.

“i asked you a question,”

“uhm,” you swallowed, “i don’t know.”

jiwoong chuckled, “you don’t know? this is your paper sweetheart, minus two points.”

you quipped your heads towards him, realizing how he was genuinely grading your paper and begging for him to take it back.

“you want extra credit you have to deserve it, you’re going to explain each mistake you made for me,”

“but-”

“no buts, you asked for this. now, why did you contradict yourself?”

you sighed, silently admitting defeat.

“darcy did everything the way he was suppose to, making himself a perfect suitor in a way, but he completely disregarded elizabeth’s feelings the entire time and decided to act purely for his own interests,”

you could feel jiwoong’s smile as his fingers started to continuously pleasure you. you moaned in relief as jiwoong continued to read the paper.

he tsked, but his fingers maintained their pace.

“and here, you really think elizabeth revealed jane’s and bingley’s possible engagement out of jealousy?”

you shut your eyes slightly annoyed, but answered nonetheless wanting his fingers to fill you.

“not out of jealousy-” you whimpered as he fastened the pace of his fingers, teasing you endlessly.

“out of spite, she only mentioned the couple because she knew it would garner a reaction from darcy,” you somehow let out.

with a hum of satisfaction you assume, jiwoong places his eyes on your paper once again. you rejoice looking at the screen because the paper was nearly done being read.

jiwoong takes his time using his fingers to tease you mercilessly, all while forcing you to maintain your composure.

you begin to feel a haze as you feel a knot in your stomach.

“jiwoong-”

“not yet angel, i’m not done grading.”

your moans grew louder, feeling your climax closer and closer. your eyes looked at his concentrated face as he read and read.

it felt like a decade and you couldn’t handle it.

“jiwoong please,” you begged, not caring about your shame anymore.

you came here for him, the a was just an excuse.

“why do you think elizabeth accepted darcy’s proposal?”

“are you serious?”

“why?”

“she was desperate for marriage,” you rushed out, starting to lose any complete thought.

“do you think she was as desperate as you are right now?” he said lowly, never wavering the pace of his fingers and reaching your spot.

“i don’t know,” you whimpered.

“what was that?”

“i don’t know!”

“but you know everything sweetheart don’t you? that’s why you think you deserve an a,”

“jiwoong, i’m so close,” you completely pressed your body towards his desk, trying to restrain yourself from touching him.

“i know, which is why i’m not allowing you to cum,” he announced.

you turned to him astonished as he took his fingers out of you and innocently licked your juices from them.

“the paper could’ve been better, i thought you read the book three times?”

“i did,” you nearly sobbed.

“well that didn’t reflect in the paper, so now you have to earn your grade and your right to cum,”

“how?” you immediately quipped, willing to do anything for the man.

“you can start by placing yourself on the desk, ass up,” your body immediately follows through and you stand up with your hands on the desk while facing the door.

you hear rustling of the cabinets behind you as jiwoong finds a condom and he grabs a hold of your waist.

“remember angel, try not to be too loud. everyone is grading,” you nodded understandingly, whimpering as you felt jiwoong slowly entering you.

“god princess, it was like you were waiting for me,” he groaned, waiting for your signal to go as your walls clenched around him.

when you placed your elbows on the desk, positioning yourself in a more pleasurable way, jiwoong took it as a sign to go on.

his pace started slowly, while you moaned under your breath feeling him everywhere.

“jiwoong,” you moaned while he quickened his pace. although he tried to conceal them, his groans were slowly becoming louder.

“yes sweetheart?”

“more,” you begged, wanting more pleasure, more of his touch, and more of his everything.

“your wish is my command,” he said, bucking his hips towards yours rapidly while using one of the hands that was on your waist to tease your clit.

you let out a moan as he continuously hit your pleasure spot with a steady face. with his other free hand, he grabbed your hair loosely, pulling you closer towards him.

all you could let out was his name in whimpers.

“you’re so good for me y/n,” the praise went straight to your core as he knew what you wanted to hear.

“such a good girl, you take my cock so well,”

“only for you,” you let out between the whimpers and moans, as jiwoong shows no signs of stopping.

“you wanted this didn’t you? you didn’t even need help, you just wanted to lose yourself on my cock,”

“not…true,” you lied.

you loathed pride and prejudice, but papers were your forte and if you really tried, you knew you could’ve done fine without help.

jiwoong was just amazing at validating you and fucking you beautifully, so you couldn’t help but beg for his assistance.

he slapped your ass in response, “don’t lie to me,” he warned.

“i promise sir,” you nearly yelled, forgetting any sense of being quiet. jiwoong placed a hand on your mouth, muffling any sound.

“you promised last time how this would never happen again didn’t you? look at you now,” he whispered in your ear.

you closed your eyes in ecstasy as you felt the knot in your stomach growing once again.

jiwoong kept on giving and giving, while you just took everything he gave.

“please, ” you begged into his palms, clenching around him while he hit your spot over and over again.

“just a little longer princess, i’m almost there,” jiwoong somehow got faster, ramming into you repeatedly all while you moaned into his hands.

“god, you’re perfect,” he mumbled.

suddenly, it all felt like too much. you closed your eyes in bliss while screaming out jiwoong’s name as you came. your head fell onto his shoulders as he lightly kissed your chin, chasing his release as well.

once his groans grew louder, you felt the warmth of the cum he spilled into the condom as his pace became sloppy.

he slowly pulled out of you as you stood breathlessly in between his arms, beads of sweat slowly falling down your face.

he disposed of the filled condom into the trash under the desk and turned you around to face him.

his goofy smile made you chuckle on the spot as you realized the other reason you wanted to visit jiwoong.

you genuinely enjoyed his presence. he made you feel safe and seen when everyone else had expectations for you. he looked at you as if you were the most important thing in the world at that moment.

desires aside, jiwoong was someone you could love and you were willing to give it a shot.

if he didn’t show how much he cared with words, he certainly did with actions as he showed when he started to clean you up with tissues.

you couldn’t help but laugh.

“what’s so funny?” he quizzically asked.

“you’re using tissues?” he rolled his eyes as he threw them in the trash and lifted your body to sit on the desk.

“well if someone didn’t need help so much, i could’ve prepared with time to bring something more premium,” he joked as you caressed the hairs behind his neck lightly.

“i’m sorry, the pent up stress from finals got to me. you don’t have to do anything with the grade,”

“nonsense y/n, your paper was exceptional either way. you didn’t need extra credit at all. you doubt yourself too much,” he complimented.

“does that mean i get an a?” you excitedly let out, not being able to contain yourself. jiwoong smiled at the gesture.

“yes, but you should probably stop relying on me for them because i am no help,”

“i guess it’s a good thing i graduate this semester then,” you mentioned and his eyebrows perked up.

“you graduate this semester? how come i didn’t know?”

“i wanted you to think i would taunt you for a long amount of time,” he slightly smirked at your confession.

“as if you didn’t have me wrapped around your fingers. speaking of, since you're graduating, when can i take you out on a date?”

“whenever you grow the balls to ask,” you joked as he looked down and up to meet your eyes again.

“maybe when we’re not naked?”

“probably.”

a/n: hope you all enjoyed whatever the hell this was😭 like i mentioned i'll try to write more but this writers block has stumped me. i appreciate you all and thank you for taking the time to read my works! :)

@zeruby16 on tumblr | est. 2023

#kim jiwoong #zb1 smut #zb1 hard hours #kim jiwoong smut #kim jiwoong x reader

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