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#recrosses
sampoststuff · 3 months
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Hey there. So, you're one of us, aren't you? Mind if I ask you a few questions? Do you love Road 96? Have you watched the fan film "Road 96: Lucky Star"? Would you like to be apart of an upcoming fan-project about Road 96? If so, we have the project just for you! Kick-started by the same mind behind the Lucky Star fan-film, the creator is looking for other creators within the Road 96 community! Three members that are here are on tumblr, those being @mc-tummy-blur, @danieesketches, and myself, have already joined the project, and are looking to spread the word about the upcoming project, Road 96: Retold! This will be a 'movie' retelling of the main game. It is much similar to reanimation projects or retelling of a movie. Here is a link to the original Reddit post that talks about the project as well! We are looking for anyone that can do any of the following:
Animator Voice Acting Film-making Musician Any experience and what you can offer is welcomed! If you can't join, that is okay! We would appreciate reblogs and spreading the word around for the project. We hope to see you guys down The Road! Edit as of 1/27/24: We added a musician role, if you have any experience in music making, we would love to have you!
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lemonofthevalley · 3 months
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bug why
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sashimiyas · 2 years
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your new boyfriend ushijima who’s adorable and a little socially awkward it’s endearing until he offhandedly mentions he went to a school that had horses. then you realize he’s actually in a whole different tax bracket and just has non-universal life experiences.
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eusuchia · 1 year
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nothing makes me as absolutely homicidal as walking down block after block of lethally icy unshovelled sidewalks trying not to sprain either my stupid weak ankles or my stupid weak lower back with the effort of not slipping every two feet
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mtg-cards-hourly · 2 years
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Recross the Paths
Artist: Greg Hildebrandt TCG Player Link Scryfall Link EDHREC Link
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housefreak · 2 months
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they need to make a movie theater that isn't 90 minutes away from me
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worldsover · 15 days
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Professor Knows ft. Arin
(5.5k words)
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You’re seated at the front of the lecture hall, and you’re not sure if you’re in class, or a movie theater with an actress playing a prank for some hidden camera, and here comes the host ready to pop out at any time; hold in your jaw, please. But no, that’s Professor Arin, and everyone here thinks it’s normal that her white pinstripe dress shirt and her gray skirt are both short enough to reveal so much skin that you’re already picturing her naked so that if you were to be saying a speech in front of a thousand people, that’s 1/1000th down to make the task easier.
That’s Professor Arin, teaching passionately, and you don’t give a damn about what you’re learning because this isn’t your campus, and you just wanted to get to graduation already—well, those are the excuses. You don’t give a damn because you’re drooling at the so-called professor dressed more like a slutty schoolgirl/pornstar emulation of one, or at least you have to hold back from drooling. 
You are mesmerized by her perfect hourglass figure, and her heels—goodness, those heels. In her knife-thin heels, she’s rocking an entire lecture hall like she’s that one summer fling that got away, stabbing at hearts and bleeding them dry. How do your classmates do it? How can they concentrate with those hips swaying, and a pencil skirt so tight you can read a book on her ass? How can you focus when she bends over to pick up a dropped pen, and you’re one millimeter away from seeing the absolute territory? You’d call it collective self-control of an entirely different level.
It could be how friendly and bubbly she is. Overtly touchy with all her students, she treats everyone like longtime personal friends, casually grabbing arms and shoulders, patting backs and heads, and no one minds because why would they. The only one minding is you since she doesn't treat you the same way. You would often shift in your seat as the fabric of your pants becomes taut against your honesty whenever she catches your gaze.
And whenever she catches your gaze, for a beat, your heart stops. But then she smiles impassively and continues her lesson without any chalance. You exhale, relieved she didn’t read your mind.
That’s how it goes on for the entire semester: hell on earth, and you couldn’t be more grateful.
Or so you believed. Arin, as it turns out, is omniscient or psychic or maybe just some hair-level more observant than an average student like you—she's the one at the front of the class after all. She knows everything she's doing to you. She must. You hope. Pray. Beg.
Arin calls you into her office one day. This is it. The rumors. She’s a total nympho, a freak, down for anyone half good-looking, and you’d say you’re not so bad yourself.
She's sitting down in her leather chair, her crossed legs revealing just a hint of lace-adorned thighs; you lose your cockiness the moment you're inside the room. You're captivated by the soft, warm lighting that illuminates Arin's flawless features. Her lips are a shade of red that begs to be tasted, and you wonder what those luscious curves must feel like against your own. You swallow a dry lump in your throat, mentally willing your erection to subside.
"Sit down," she purrs, her voice as sensual as silk against your overheated skin. Her eyes never leaving yours, she uncrosses her legs and recrosses them in a way that makes her skirt ride even higher. That's more of her thighs. Less of your sanity.
Your fingers clench into fists at your sides and then you take a seat in the chair across from her, acutely aware of the space between you.
"So, Mr. Lee," she begins, raking her eyes over you, "I've called you here today because I've noticed something... interesting about you." Her voice trails off, and she leans forward, resting her elbows on the table separating you. You swallow hard, fearing and praying for what she might say next.
"Interesting?" you manage to croak out, cursing yourself for sounding like a lovesick puppy. Arin has reduced you to a puddle of hormones with a single look.
"I’ve noticed your… attention in class," she says, removing her glasses, and you're done for. "I want to make sure all my students are participating, fully engaged."
"I am, Professor," you whine.
"Just call me Arin," she says.
You blush. "Arin, of course."
Space becomes even more of an attention hog; the room feels like it shrunk a thousand times its size now, every one of your heartbeats echoing off the four walls, the bookshelves as your eyes follow her fingers, which now travel up her thighs, pushing her skirt higher. Your breath catches in your throat as she uncrosses her legs, revealing just so the white fabric of her panties. Arousal hits you like a ton of bricks, your cock throbbing in your pants. You swallow hard, trying to moisten your mouth as she gets up from her chair and sits on her desk instead.
Then, she touches you for the first time, like she's your classroom crush, finally noticing your feelings, and you can believe that easily, the woman at most a few years your senior. It's a simple touch, a brush of her index along the back of your hand and wrist, yet it's enough to spike the little hairs onto ends like you're touching a Van de Graaff generator. The moment she lets go: there's the blue-white snappy little spark. At this heightened state of awareness, your eyes are flies or bumblebees or hummingbirds, your heart the latter's. You can't make sense of anything else but her.
"I think we both know why I called you in here, don’t we?" she asks, her voice husky.
Now, it's your turn to speak up. Choose your next move wisely.
You say, slowly, "I need to… learn. My lesson."
Arin nods, hops off the edge of the desk. Her smile turns from sultry to goofy. (How’d she do that?) "Exactly!" She pushes a couple of papers in front of you. "Practice these cast studies, I’ll have you read them for the class next lecture."
You were about to get hit by a truck, didn’t get hit by a truck, and felt disappointed that you didn’t get hit by a truck. You take the papers, nod, and leave with your head down. She waves bye when you look back.
Fast forward to the next lecture. You’re a hot mess. You didn’t sleep, rehearsed those damn lines a hundred times as if you were some damn actor. Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you can’t for the life of you stop staring at her high heels and gym-toned midriff, showcasing themselves like they were on display.
Your turn comes around, and Arin nods at you to read aloud. You take a deep breath, step forward, and start reading. Your voice is shaky at first but soon, you find your rhythm. Her encouraging looks don’t help, her leg bouncing up and down playfully. Occasionally she’d take her glasses off, chew on the end of them...
Your mind starts to wander into dirty places you'd rather not mention here, but suffice to say, your pants are a little too tight now. It has you stumbling over words when you thought you had it. You force yourself to focus on the text in front of you, but it’s near impossible when she leans in and whispers in your ear.
"Mmm. Getting warmer," she says.
Your voice cracks a little as you try to regain control of your senses but it was no use; you were all hers now. Arin has successfully reduced you to putty in her hands with just one sexy whisper-purr hybrid thing she did so well.
You finish the rest of the reading, and when you look up, you see her staring at you, eyes hooded. It means nothing; you’ve learned this quickly. There’s no truck to be hit by, just the ghost of a promise of one.
You’re in the club later that night, and your balls are ocean/sky/blue-raspberry blue. You down your fourth shot of vodka, determined to forget about it all. There are a lot of girls here. Your friends are going for it. Good for them. They’re all from your old campus, so they would have never met Arin. That adds up.
"You okay, man?" Dongwoo asks, patting you on the back.
You down another shot. "Fine, just fine," you slur.
"She was something, wasn’t she?" he asks, grinning like an idiot. You can only assume he was talking about some girl you must’ve hit on.
"Arin?"
The world tilts on its axis as Dongwoo whips his head around so fast you fear for his neck health. "How do..."
"Long story." You wave him off and order another round, beer this time. "Tell me more."
Dongwoo leans in and starts spilling, but all you can think about is the way Arin looked at you today in class. And how her voice curled itself around your cock like a python around a deer and squeezed just as tightly.
You think about it so much that when you get back to your dorm on campus, stumbling around, world spinning, you make your way to that very lecture hall.
And then you sober up, real fast.
Moans fill the large room. Thick, throaty, oh-god-yes moans.
"Fuck," you gasp, covering your mouth as you peek through a small crack in the door. "She’s..."
Arin, your perfect goddess of a professor, is on the floor, skirt hiked up, glasses askew, as her fingers work in and out like engine pistons.
Your heart pounds as you watch Arin pleasure herself on the lecture hall floor, her soft moans filling the room. She arches her back, her free hand groping her breasts through her silk blouse as her fingers delve deeper. You can't tear your eyes away from the erotic display, mesmerized by the way her body writhes with each thrust of her fingers.
A quiet whimper escapes your lips, and Arin's eyes suddenly lock onto yours through the cracked door. At first, she tenses up, but then, her face softens, and she’s smiling. Then she’s frowning and shaking her head. You know this, understand this, are running through the whole gamut of emotions yourself. You’ve heard the rumors are true, to an extent. She has indeed slept with every professor, male and female, that she’s deemed decent enough. Never crossed a line with a student.
You're frozen in place, unable to move as Arin saunters over to the door, her fingers still wet with her juices. She smells like sex and orchids, two of your favorite things now that you think about it. She closes the door behind you, then laughs at you.
"You smell like booze," she says. She’s wearing that same outfit, the skirt so short you’re ready to go all-in on temperance, whip the ruler out, have her punished for wearing something so scandalous if whatever lord above smite her now, you don’t blame His lightning. Her thighs are a juicy steak—the juice is a trail of something clear.
You look down. "Y-you… you smell like…"
Arin doesn’t know what to do with her hands like how you don’t know what to do with your hands. She also lowers her head. "Fuck. I really, really shouldn’t do this."
Two breaths, heaving, yours and hers.
"You’re right. I’m sorry, Prof—"
She presses her index finger against your lips, and you get a close whiff of her taste. "Why are you apologizing? It’s my fault. And… Arin."
"Can I call you Noona?"
Arin giggles. "Sure."
"Noona," you mumble, your heart in your throat, "I shouldn’t have—"
"Then why are you still standing there? If you’re going to apologize, at least do it right."
"A-apologize?"
Arin rolls her eyes and pulls you toward the seating. When she sits down, your spot, front of the class, she brings you to the floor, where you can see her skirt hiked up even higher. "I was so close, but fine. Apologize for interrupting me by…" She inclines her head toward her wet panties. "You know what to do, right?"
You never thought you’d be kneeling where you pay halfhearted attention to useless studies, but sure, this is church now. Pray. Pray at the altar of the space between Arin’s thighs which heaven envies for lack of same glory, or the idyll garden where the cuff of her socks squeezes the ample flesh. You hesitate, taking in her scent. It’s so much stronger here. So much more Arin.
"Hurry up. Don’t make me regret this." Her fingers in your hair—oh, you won't make her regret this, no, no. You press your lips to her thighs, kissing your way up her inner thighs with a fervor that would make the most devout jealous as you lick-suck-peck at the bare skin and taste the sweat on your tongue, delicious and tangy and a hint of that musky flavor. Oh, she’s been dripping for a while.
Your cock reacts, throbbing in your pants like you haven't had a single drink tonight, as you finally reach the holy of holies.
Arin’s thigh-high clad legs are wrapped around your head, depriving you of basic breath, but you don't care. This is the rapture, and you’d die for her right now and be satisfied. You slide your tongue between her folds, lapping at the nectar she so generously shares as her moans spur you onward. You can hear her panting above you, feel her rocking into your mouth in time with your ministrations. She tastes better than any woman you've ever been with, salty like the sea and as sweet as honey.
"Fuck," she gasps, and you faithfully redouble your efforts. Her grip tightens on your hair as she grinds against your face, and it’s a miracle you don’t pass out from oxygen deprivation or an erection that won't quit. "Yess," Arin hisses, her heels digging into the ground.
"Fuck!" Her juices flood your mouth in a tidal wave of orgasmic release as you swallow every drop like a good little student. She squeezes your face tightly between her thighs, forcing every last drop out of her before finally letting go with a shudder.
"Fuck…" she breathes out, combing her fingers through your hair. "That was unexpected."
Arin blushes, and you smile into her crotch. Reluctantly, you pull away, then return to your seat as Arin adjusts her skirt and glasses, straightening her hair. As you lean back on your heels, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, proud and embarrassed by your performance."Did I do good, Noona?"
Arin laughs out a low and throaty sound. "Oh, you did more than good. But I think it's my turn to apologize now."
"Why?" you ask.
She smiles slyly, reaching down to grab your hand and pull you to your feet. "Because I've been teasing you all night." Arin leans in, her warm breath dancing over your ear. "And I’m not one to leave a task half-finished."
Led by the hand, you follow her into her office, leaving the empty classroom behind. The door closes with a resounding click, sealing you both inside. So this is where the real lesson begins.
The office is a complete one-eighty from the cold, sterile environment of her classroom. You didn’t realize it before, too focused on her to see anything else. Warm, rich colors greet your eyes, and the scent of vanilla and sandalwood fills the air. Arin's desk is a sea of ​​piled-up papers and knick-knacks, but she clears a space for you as she pushes them aside.
"Sit," she commands, motioning to the plush leather chair in front of her desk at as she locks the door behind you with an audible click. The sound of the lock engaging sobers you up at once.
Arin, your professor, just had her way with your mouth and now you're about to... what? Your mind reels with possibilities as she saunters around the room, slackening her black tie and unbuttoning her blouse one button at a time. Each button revealed another inch of porcelain skin, bared for your hungry eyes only. Her dress shirt hangs loosely on her now, just like her tie, and now you can see how her lace panties match her bra. You wonder if this was all planned or a serendipitous coincidence. Arin shimmies out of her panties, then turns around, which lifts her skirt just enough to show off her ass. Arin’s ass is a sort of cryptozoological being that earns hushed whispers at the end of lectures—did you catch the crease of her cheeks when jumped to pull down the blackboard, or did you see how it jiggled when she jumped to pull the blackboard down? But here, in the bare flesh, with its goosebumps and every trajectory, a hushed whisper is too quiet for Loch Ness or Bigfoot’s more famed sight. Her ass makes your mouth water. It makes the desert water. The sun waters. If there were a shape to describe it… yet circle, then perfect, then slappable each inch ever closer to an apt description as apt as the appleness of oranges—now there’s another inch closer: Arin’s ass is juicy. Yet, you can’t even render anything above mute: porcelain skin glowing in the dim light and that pussy... that enticing wetness between her legs, glistening with arousal.
"You must be hard," she says, academic, as though stating fact off a lecture slide or textbook.
You might not graduate with any particular honors on your diploma. Where is honor or prestige and how could it be written down: you have your professor on her knees under her desk, grasping tight on your cock; this can't go in the transcript. (Magna cum loudly—that’s how. If it were not written, lest the porn titlers monopolize this for themselves.)
"You don't know the half of it," you say, and she smirks because she knows more than you, with the proof in her fingers, uncoiling you free.
Digits that hold red pens and chalk and sheaves of paper are now working their magic on your straining erection, already at full mast, but here the flag might fly further such that flagging no longer can belong to that cloth the flaps in the wind because it would not be so accurate a description. Arin watches you squirm, her eyes glinting with mischief and something else you can't quite place. Pride, maybe? As if she's always known this day would come and has been waiting for it.
You're so hard her grip doesn't even feel particularly tight, but when she looks up at you through those glasses, that impassive facade in tatters? That is the tightest leash your heart has ever worn. Her lips are a soft pink, colors you might see on her dress on occasion, and she parts them—the colors you see are a hot white flash, how did she get you down so quickly, and good lord if he were good you’d need his help to last. There is no way she’s this skilled at this unless she’s been practicing like it’s a side job. Her head bobs up and down, each movement accompanied by a moan that vibrates along your cock. She looks up at you through her glasses, more spit on them now, impassive as a hurricane. You make eye contact; it’s all you can do to avoid cumming right then and there, however paradoxical since her glare is saying all you need to hear. Don’t cum. Don’t cum or I fail you. Don’t cum or you’re punished—well, that doesn’t sound so bad.
Releasing and letting out a sharp gasp, Arin lets your erection flop into your stomach, spit-messy and begging. "Good boy. You pass."
As all she speaks, this too is a truth: you pass—into the next life—no time to process how she rips open a packet of latex with her teeth, places it into your length with her mouth, pushes you down onto the desk, one knee on either side of your thighs as she hovers over you.
"I’ve wanted this," she says, grinding against your tip, "since the first day you walked into my class."
"Oh, really, professor?" you manage to croak out, and damn it all if she doesn’t laugh, sexy and low in her throat.
"Don’t call me that right now." Arin sounds so stern saying that, stern like you've never heard her before. Then, in a smooth motion, she sinks herself down, takes all of you in one go, and moans out "fuck me" not nearly so severe. Her inner heat grips you more than the condom could hope, and her soft groans and profanity drain the office of its dry air as if it were never there. Well, the draining is less the sound, and the dry less the extant, both because of what surrounds your cock.
You hold on for dear life as Arin rides you like she's trying to break something, but with no handles to save you, nor any mercy in her movements—up, down, side to side, her black tie and open shirt flapping about—you can only grip her hips and hope to keep up. It’s nothing new for how new it is. This is just like how she treats you, how she treats the class. Just like the rumors. She’s in charge, knows what she’s doing when she has you under her—the metaphorical thumb becomes the literal body; the pretense becomes past tense—and fuck, her body.
The sounds of slapping aren’t your work (yet); that’s her thick thighs and ass smacking against your crotch, hard enough to make her pleated skirt fly wildly. Then, her adorable tits, clad in that black lace, call out to you, have you leaning your head forward in some desperate maneuver to capture them in your mouth.
"Touch me." Arin guides your hand to where she's dripping wet, where her clit throbs impatiently. She arches her back at the simplest circle your fingers can manage, and you’re feeling more at home here, less regret. You’re also palming at her breasts over cloth, and she abates her rhythm to unclasp her bra, letting you have a taste of her nipples, firm and delicious in your gentle teeth and lips. That’s another handle, her breasts a needy handful to be kneaded.
You don’t have the right to command your professor, nor the will. The closest thing to a request is how you grab her loose tie, earning a pleasured squeal, and a harder ride. Hard enough her glasses might fall off. As always, she knows you and your wishes, no need for words: nails dig into your thighs, fingers run through your hair, hands explore all over your body. The touch sends you way too close to tripping off a cliff in a car crash that ends in explosion that might fill latex to its brink, so you do end up with a command, albeit expressed physically as you grab her waist to peel her off you.
When she pouts, she truly looks more like the schoolgirl in your fantasies than the professor who has your graduation at ransom. And how is it that you're the one with any sort of leverage in this situation? Maybe you can tell by her eyelids, falling close, mouth, falling open. Whatever you’re doing, you’re doing it right. You flip her over onto her stomach, pressing her into the cool, smooth surface of her desk with a resounding thud. She whimpers, arching her back and presenting her still-slick pussy to you like an offering. But instead of sliding your cock inside right away, a recipe for disaster and early nights, something else calls out to you. Her asshole, like a forbidden fruit, beckons you to your knees, and you spread her cheeks apart, flipping her skirt up and bringing her tight entrance into full view of your face.
You start with a kiss on the pale skin. "May I? Noona?"
She giggles, no semblance of a mind in the airy noise. "Please."
Continuing with more pecks, tender and loving on her beautiful behind, some kisses along her thighs where they’re squished by thigh-highs, then you get closer and closer until your mouth is around her asshole. While you undertook this sabbatical to let your furious erection and imminent orgasm simmer down, the first taste of your tongue inside of her ass does no favors for your arousal. Tangier, saltier, and hotter than you could have imagined, Arin's tightness envelopes your tongue in a way that makes you groan, the vibration resonating through her. Her fingers grab at the edge of the desk as she moans out your name, or maybe it's "fuck" and "yes," but either way, you know you've struck gold.
You lace your fingers through her folds while you deepen your one-sided French kiss, tonguing her anal passage.
"Oh, god. Yes, right there!" she squeals between pants, rocking her hips back and forth.
As much as you'd love to continue this exquisite torment, there are other needs to attend to. Withdrawing your tongue from her ass, you see a strand of her pussy juice connecting her thigh gap. You stand up, lining up your latex-covered length with her cunt. "Ready for me, Noona?" you ask, though you already have the slick cheat sheet answer on your fingers.
As you press your hardened cock against the velvet folds of her intimacy, you position yourself to plunge into her waiting warmth. However, instead of granting that eager penetration, you ruthlessly tease her entry with the rugged tip before pulling away prematurely. As though left bereft in a hollowness only your presence could fill, she instinctively chases after your ghostly retreat. She gasps out impatient words underscored by carnal desperation, "Don’t tease me. Fuck me already!"
The sharp crack of your palm on her round ass cheek echoes in the small office. A blossom of pink blooms on her fair skin.
Bunching her cheeks apart with strong fingers, you terminate all playful actions as snug heat engulfs your cock.
Each rhythmic thrust into Arin is executed with a savage fervor that serves to claim dominion over every inch of her, to take all semblance of control. Take everything she knows and transform that knowledge into this snapshot crackling sensation that’s reducing her to sobs and groans. Fuck the unspoken implications and the quiet tension built up throughout the school year. You thrust into her like loud is the only path forward, and this path of volume is where Arin follows you. A single tug on her makeshift ponytail prompts her grip at the edge of her desk, and whimpers turn to screams, screams that might hazardously fill the hallways. When she glances over her shoulder, you can see her whole face pleasure-wracked. It takes one or two more plunges for her to surrender completely, tight contractions traveling rhythmically over your engorged cock. Trembling through spasming ecstasy, her whole body reacts, but especially her substantial thighs. Despite how tight she gets, you don’t stop pumping until she’s flowed through her entire orgasm.
After you pull out into much cooler air (the condom covered in her nectar), Arin recovers from climax with a surprising quickness, bewildered half-laughs at her own highs. "You might be my favorite student now."
Even though she says it playfully, you still take it to heart, feeling a delighted warmth in your chest. So you thank her with all sincerity.
Rising to her feet, she takes hold of your erection with a lip-bite. She leads you cockwise toward her window, looking back at you through her glasses with a smirk that steals air. One moment she looks cute, the next she’s a succubus, a natural-born seductress.
Once Arin turns around, her palms seize contact with the cool glass window, presenting herself to you for another round. As though framed by the night herself, Arin couldn't be more exposed if she tried. Although it's late at night, the possibility of someone catching sight of Professor Arin, compromised and partially clothed, lingers in your mind. These moments are when and where and how rumors are born. But you refuse to let that hold you back.
Once again, you piston into Arin, fucking her standing. The darkness turns the window into a mirror, reflecting Arin's expressions of pure bliss. Watch the tantalizing bounce of her breasts in her open shirt, the glistening beads of sweat navigating downward across her lithe abdomen, how she’s forced onto tiptoes to thrust right back into you—it’s sensory overload.
You grab each of her wrists and pull them back, getting all the leverage you can to fuck her like a ragdoll manufactured for taking all the punishment you can give, skewering her body to the windowpane with your cock. Her face and glasses push against the window with each firm thrust, and how she’s given into you, it’s time to steer off the edge.
"Gonna fucking cum," you tell her, your hips working at a fiery pace, your pulsating cock gripped over and over by her insatiable pussy.
"Yes! Yes!" At this moment, there is no professor and student, only two creatures consumed by instinct. She is nothing more than a debauched schoolgirl in her uniform (only halfway so), eagerly taking everything you give her. And you give it to her.
Withdrawing just long enough to strip off the barrier between you both, you offer yourself hand-guided satisfaction, as you reward Arin with sticky shots of cum onto her lower back, each dimple and dip soaked by pools of your load. Some of it gets onto her cropped
The two of you laugh as you both stumble back into her desk. She gets tissues and hands them to you, so you clean the evidence.
Steering yourself onto the creaking chair leather, you’re soon joined in cozy proximity by Arin who nestles comfortably into your lap, her head into your neck’s crook.
"So does that mean I get free grades, Noona?"
She slaps your arm—and that familiarity is enough to picture domestic life with her as your partner, the sort of casual delusion she engenders. "Don't even joke about that!" Arin giggles, pretty and unabashed like everything else about her.
You scoff. "That's where you draw the line?"
Displaying rare seriousness, she narrows the gap between familiar lips so close it feels like sharing a breath. "You still smell like soju, you know." Her hand moves up to your hair, taking stock of you in your ruin and bliss. "God, you're so cute. I shouldn't be doing this."
"Well, you did," you point out.
She nods, and nods, and laughs, until nothing separates lips anymore, sealing the context between professor and student, which somehow fits perfectly... like missing puzzle pieces that finally found each other, or a story that’s found its climax in this moment. The intimate tangle in her office chair goes from tongues to jaws to lower and intimate. Arin kisses the muscles of your chest, and you kiss the valley of her breasts.
"Why do you wear stuff like this?" you ask as you hold open her cropped shirt.
"Because I can," she says with all earnestness, and you believe her; it’s just as you figured.
Looking down at her thigh-highs, you tell her, "You know you look like an amateur camgirl."
"Ooh, now that’s an idea." Arin goes for your throat in literal and other ways.
As you make out with the straddling Arin, you return the favor with her own hickey, which you notice at class the next morning. You're proud of the little purple thing there on her skin, the opposite of proud of the whispers they cause. But like all things Professor Arin, these pass. And like all things Professor Arin, she winks, and you too pass.
✦✧✦✧✦✧
AFF, AO3
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laurfilijames · 3 months
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Expensive
Pairing: Raymond Smith x female reader
Words: 4.3k
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Alcohol. Fingering and oral sex (F receiving). Light dom/sub dynamics. Unprotected intercourse. Name calling (slut).
Summary: PWP but with feelings. Some saucy fun in lavish lingerie and a romp on the floor in front of the fireplace with our generous gentleman Ray.
A/N: I finally did it. I wrote for Raymondo. I've wanted to ever since I first watched The Gentlemen and finally landed an idea to have fun with. Enjoy!
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Ray knew you were there before he even stepped foot inside the house.
It wasn’t planned; no discussion was had about you paying him a visit or spending time together tonight, but he had caught on to your devious plan by the tone of your voice when he spoke on the phone with you earlier, your excitement in your scheming not slipping past him.
He didn’t miss much, always attentive and observant to anything going on around him, but when it came to you he didn’t ever miss a thing.
He walked quietly to the porch, the sound of his shoes crunching against the wet grit on the bricks and the softness of the steady rain hitting his jacket the only noises registering in his ears, and unlocked the door just as he did any other night, though knowing you were waiting for him inside made his homecoming after a long day that much more appealing.
The intoxicating scent of your perfume hit him as soon as he stepped through the threshold, the smell of it so familiar and welcoming even with it being faint in the distance between where he assumed you waited for him in the living room and the entryway.
Not wanting to ruin your fun by not playing along with your little game, Ray walked through to the kitchen, acting as if he didn’t notice that your coat was draped over the back of one of the chairs or that you’d already helped yourself to the bottle of wine that he had a glass out of the night before; the level of the crisp red now sitting at the halfway mark rather than just below the neck.
He opened the cupboard that kept his glassware, reaching for one glass, then a second, a smile tugging at his lips when he heard your short, disappointed sigh.
“Spoilsport.”
“You quite like making yourself at home, don't you?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he filled both glasses with water; hydration favoured over the craveable taste of wine or scotch for the games he intended to play next.
“Breaking and entering is a felony…” he purred, removing his jacket while maintaining eye contact with you.
“It isn’t when the homeowner has gifted you the key needed to open the front door whenever you please.”
He sighed, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “I told you I was busy.”
“I don't like being told no.”
Ray grabbed the water glasses and slowly made his way into the living room, depositing one on the small table beside the chair you were sprawled out in wearing nothing but a stunning set of lingerie.
He blinked quickly, a display of his rising frenzy, turning on his heels and taking a seat on the chair opposite you after looking you up and down.
You smiled, watching him cross his legs and fold his hands in his lap, staring at you intently like he was blatantly ignoring the fact that you were nearly naked and the balcony-style bra barely covered your nipples, the material that did cover them see-through.
“You don’t like being told no,” he spoke slowly, repeating your words to clarify or mock, you weren’t sure.
“No,” you said through a grin, uncrossing and recrossing your own legs to show off your crotchless panties, running your finger teasingly up along your stockings before adjusting the clips that connected them to the garter belt around your waist.
A groan that was hardly audible sounded from him as he sighed, taking a long sip out of his glass while watching you over the rim.
“What am I going to do with you?” he asked, rising from his seat where he unbuttoned his cardigan and peeled it off his broad shoulders, revealing another layer of pristine clothing underneath.
“I’m quite certain a smart man such as yourself can think of something.”
“Flattery won’t help you now, darling,” he warned, having stalked over to you where he hovered above you dominantly.
“I appreciate you using a coaster,” he nodded to your wine glass. “At least you listen to some of the things you’re told.”
You sucked in a sharp breath in amusement at his comment, clasping the long-stemmed glass in question where you brought it to your ruby coloured lips.
“I strive to be a good girl.”
“You’re going to need to prove that.”
Ray couldn’t help but smirk, not at all serious about being displeased that you were here, feeling quite the opposite, in fact, even if you weren’t primed and ready to provide him with anything he asked.
He had regretted it immediately when he told you that morning that you wouldn't be seeing each other tonight, the usual comforting warmth of his tea tasting bitter on his tongue after he had said it, knowing all the while that all he really wanted was to relax with you and indulge in every simple pleasure imaginable, his chest tightening with hope that you would be your defiant self when you accepted his denial with a simple and suspiciously bright ‘okay’.
You returned his smile, shifting slightly in your seat on account of how adoringly he was looking at you, your arousal and need for him growing as you watched him unfasten the buttons on each cuff of his shirtsleeves and began rolling them up his toned forearms.
The wearied look in his eyes was highlighted by his glasses, his features appearing more serious than they usually were, making your heart ache in wanting to take away whatever it was that was worrying him.
“You look expensive,” he spoke quietly, almost a whisper, his focus still on his shirt as he rolled the second sleeve neatly to his elbow.
“I am expensive, Ray,” you quipped, your tone light but quiet as well.
One eyebrow rose at your answer, his head tilting slightly as his arms fell back to his side and he straightened himself, looking down at you.
You reached forward, smoothing your hand over his stomach, unfastening the buttons on his waistcoat effortlessly before grabbing onto his tie to pull him closer to you.
The smell of his almost worn off cologne and rich beard oil mixed with a sweeter hint of tobacco and marijuana, awakening more desire in you and making you draw in a deeper breath to try to capture more of it, of him, as you brought your face closer to his body, his warmth radiating off of him and making you moan softly.
Ray followed your silent directions as you continued to tug on his tie, kneeling in front of you, his blue eyes warm and bright compared to how they appeared a short moment ago.
Your body tensed slightly when his hands landed on your knees, his thumbs brushing them gently while you pulled the knot out of his tie and slipped it from his collar, admiring every part of his chest that was revealed to you as you undid each button on his striped shirt that now held wrinkles in it despite having been meticulously ironed that morning.
“What’s the price?” Ray inquired, running his long fingers up your thigh to make it tremble under his soft strokes.
You smiled, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, slipping your hands under his shirt to caress over his strong, smooth muscles.
Watching his eyelids fall shut as he relaxed into your touch, you continued to rub him, moving everywhere you could from his neck down to the flaxen hairs that crept out from the top of his jeans, and back up again where you found his steady heartbeat.
You stilled, your palm resting where his heart began to thump harder against it, his eyes opening in realization as to what your price was.
He smiled, bringing out the creases around his eyes and mouth, a twinkle shining in them that made your own heart leap. His hands came up to hold your cheeks, his eyes traveling down from yours to your lips, his tongue peeking out to lick his own quickly before he leaned forward and kissed you.
It was almost liberating to think that you didn't have a clue that he had settled the cost pretty much the moment he met you, that he would continue to pay with it over and over until you did realize you had captured his solitary heart, but in the meantime he would take every bit of joy out of pretending he owed you a fortune of his love.
You sighed into his kiss, any tension you felt leaving your body as you relished in the feel of his tongue and the softness of his beard on your chin and lips, arching your back in order to get yourself closer to him and deepen it.
Continuing to kiss until many moments were gone unnoticed, you tangled your fingers in his neatly fixed hair, disrupting it enough that your nails ran over his scalp and sent tingles down his spine, rousing him from this alluring inebriation.
A low growl sounded from him as he dug his fingers into the flesh on your thighs, looking at you with a dark hunger that sparked your soul and every other wanton desire waiting to be set free.
“Stand up, turn around, and bend over.”
His demand came out between heaving breaths, his resolve quickly tumbling apart before you, and with a sweet smile and love in your eyes for the man you would obey without hesitation, you slowly stood.
Ray never broke eye contact with you, his dominance clear and resolute despite him being the one on his knees while you stood tall above him, a trusting assurance glowing in his crystal blue eyes that you always saw whenever you were with him.
Feeling reluctant to turn away from him but eager for what was next all at once, you did, biting your lip as you hinged at your hips and gripped the back of the chair you had been sitting in, leaning forward to stick your ass out invitingly.
You gasped, Ray’s lips and silky beard meeting the inside of your right thigh, peppering kisses up along it and back down again slowly, his mouth tracing the edge of your stocking.
The wood frame of the chair creaked under your grasp as Ray continued to tease you, his lips and hands sending you into a frenzy that you had to try to contain, your legs shifting to rub them together and present yourself even more to him.
“Patience,” he chimed, fully aware of what he was doing to you, making your head fall between your arms that braced in front of you.
The gold ring that sat on his pinky caught on your nylons as he ran his hand up the inside of your leg once more, the tip of his thumb grazing your folds with a teasing nudge that made you let out a breathy sigh when he reached the apex of them.
“You’re beautiful,” he praised, his confident and evenly-toned voice softer. “And you’re mine.”
You felt so powerful, knowing he was admiring every bit of you with genuine interest and affection, his attention to detail carried over to the most intimate parts of your body, all while reminding you of his claim on you that made you soar higher than ever.
“Fuck, Ray…” you hissed, your grip hardening on the chair as his nose skimmed beside your aching core, his long, slow inhale echoing loudly in your ears.
He groaned appreciatively when his tongue swiped through your wet, immediately going back for more with a second broad stroke, your legs already shaking from how good it felt.
Your whines grew as his tongue probed inside you, taking turns with angling his chin to reach the front of you and flicking your clit while his nose buried in your soaked cunt, the precision in his pattern and rhythm bringing you dangerously close to your climax.
He wouldn’t let you have it quite that easy though, and halting his feast on you, he gave one last lick around your puckered hole and slapped your cheek as he abandoned you completely, standing with a low groan.
Running a hand over his beard, he stared you down maliciously, amused at the sight of you still bent over and writhing, your core a soppy mess just waiting to be fucked by him.
“Go over there and wait for me,” he spoke steadily, a contrast from how his chest rose and fell sharply and his cheeks were tinged with a rosy blush.
Unsteady legs brought you over to the space in front of the fireplace, and you watched with a restlessness as Ray reached for a remote on the coffee table, pressing a button before placing it back in its spot.
The fireplace ignited with a loud fwoosh, the propane instantly bringing flames up to a roaring burn, the sound startling you and making you jump.
“Nothing to be afraid of…” he cooed, smirking at you, his playful reassurance making your need for him burst just as the fire had.
He stood there watching you for a moment, slowly peeling off his waistcoat that had been left open along with his shirt, leaving you unsure what to do with yourself in the meantime.
You let your hand travel slowly down your chest, grazing between your breasts and lower until you reached your exposed core, only to be stopped.
“Ah, ah,” he tutted, his eyebrows high on his forehead.
Although you let out a huff, you did your best to hide your disappointment, willing patience to grace you as you continued to watch him undress himself layer by layer, and far slower than he needed to.
To make matters worse, Ray proceeded to neatly fold his clothes and place them on the sofa, effectively running up any patience you had mustered, leaving you to take in his perfectly sculpted body and his ivory skin that called for your lips to touch.
“Jesus, Ray…” you muttered, only to quiet yourself with the look he gave you.
He extended his finger, pointing at the floor beside you, unclasping his watch from his wrist with the other hand.
“On the ground.”
His order was calm and collected, as if you expected anything less from him, and you licked your lips as you sank down to the carpet that was already warm from the fire, feeling your arousal drip from you as you moved.
“Now,” he said, taking his glasses off and placing them carefully beside his pile of clothes. “What to do with you…” he pondered out loud, stalking over to you as he grasped his hard cock with his hand and began stroking it.
“Put me out of my fucking misery…” you complained under your breath, squirming on your knees.
He grinned, “Ah, just a naughty girl begging to have her cunt filled in.”
His accusation washed over you like a drug, making your attitude vanish as quickly as his words came off his tongue, unable but also not wanting to deny that what he said was completely true.
Standing tall in front of you now, he glanced down at you, his mouth parted slightly, his hand still pumping his shaft as he brought it close to your face.
“Yes, Ray,” you whispered, ready to beg and worship at his feet if you had to, feeling the most desperate you ever had for that cock and how intensely he always pleasured you.
He tapped his leaking head against your cheek, and you sucked in a deep breath, inhaling his musky scent as you subtly titled your head closer to his groin, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting all of him.
“As you wish.”
Ray stepped behind you, his finger tracing along your jawline softly so that your head tipped back, relishing in such a simple touch that would only be the beginning of so much more.
He joined you on the floor, kneeling directly behind you so his strong quads met the back of your thighs, his cock nudging at your folds to tease you. His hands wrapped around your front, one traveling upward while the other went down, landing on your throat and your hot cunt where he stopped, his mouth beside your ear.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmured, the depth of his voice making you shiver.
“You.”
His breath fanned out on your searing skin when he chuckled softly, “You have me.”
He kissed your neck, his lips slow to move but powerful in their action; sucking and pressing into your flesh, his teeth gliding along where your pulse hammered furiously.
You moaned, the sensation of his kisses and the way his deft fingers toyed with your nipple already making you insane with lust, and when he slipped his other fingers inside you, you prayed for him to never stop.
He always knew exactly how to build you up quickly, removing his fingers from you where he rubbed your clit with your slick while continuing to pinch your nipple through the thin lace of your bra, his cock sliding back and forth between your legs where it threatened to breach your entrance as he moved his hips.
Hazy from ecstasy, you didn’t notice when Ray had reached for a pillow off the chair beside you and placed it in front of you, the tartan fabric soft to your touch when you leaned forward and grabbed onto it with both hands.
“Fuck…” Ray hissed, admiring the view you provided him with as he stroked you from behind, his fingers easily sliding in and out of you again.
You moved down onto your elbows, thankful for his consideration for having them cushioned by the pillow and not the hardwood floor, but knew you would sacrifice having bruises mark your skin for this without question.
He exchanged his fingers for his cock, pressing his engorged head against your hole, smearing his precum onto you in slow, circular motions until he couldn't wait any longer.
A long moan came from him as he pushed his cock inside you, inch by inch, savouring every moment of it until he filled you completely. Slowly, he dragged back out, his cock coated in your milky wet that made his mouth water and eager for more, slamming back into you where you cried and jolted forward slightly from his force.
Ray didn’t hold back, letting out all of the day’s frustrations on you while also conveying everything you made him feel, thrusting into you harshly until a layer of sweat broke out over his skin.
It was difficult to keep yourself upright on your elbows, his vigorous tempo forcing you onto your chest, feeling his body lower down to cover your back where he kept up his brutal pace.
Gripping under your left leg, Ray guided it up to lay at an angle, his hand slipping under your body to reach around for your clit, massaging it with perfectly rough strokes while his cock pummeled your g-spot with each blow.
Spit smeared over the plaid pattern of the pillow, your mouth unable to control the evidence of your pleasure between that and your cries, the sound of your wet skin meeting with his sending you close to the edge.
“Ray…I’m- fuck! I’m close!” you wailed, the admission of it making your climax barrel forward faster.
You clenched around him, rolling your hips up and back against his in a hurried, desperate pace, the seconds of waiting for him to grant you permission feeling like a cruel eternity.
“Are you?” he asked, a hint of malice laced in his tone.
He stopped rubbing your clit, halting your orgasm in its tracks, your grip on the pillow loosening slightly as you whined in frustration.
“You know you’re to fucking ask,” he reminded you, his voice somehow calm and his expression composed as you glanced over your shoulder at him.
You dared to smile at him, making him tilt his head in warning and resume his barrage on you, fucking you harder than before.
“Fuck, Ray!” you whined, the rate at which he brought you right back to where he left you making you tingle from head to toe, that blissful heat coiling at the base of your spine.
Somehow, you managed to bring yourself back up onto your hands, meeting his thrusts with your hips in a frantic need, his hand returning between your legs to circle your swollen bud while his other tore at your chest, pulling at the lace covering your breasts until they fell out of their covering.
“Fuck!” he roared, pawing at your tits as they shook to his movements, his own climax not far off.
His grunts spurred you on, hearing how good you made him feel taking you to a place of no return, and you rushed to ask for your permission before it was too late.
“Can I come, Ray?” you cried, your words coming out as a weak and trembling mess as you did your best to hold off the inevitable.
“Yes! Fuck…” he breathed. “Come around that cock you fucking slut!” he growled, his pace increasing as he fucked you senseless, throwing you into one of the most intense orgasms he had ever given you.
You shuddered as you choked him with your cunt, grinding on his fingers that remained firm on your clit, feeling your high bring out his own as he pounded you harder and harder until he pulsed inside you, generously dragging out your climax with his.
Ray watched his cock slide in and out of you, creamy cum leaking out with it as he did, slowing his movements gradually as you both came down from your highs, the sound of your ragged breathing the only thing heard over the soft roar of the powered flames coming from the fireplace.
Sweat glistened in the dip of your lower back, and you couldn’t look more heavenly as you glowed from the heat on your skin and the wetness between your legs, your luxurious set of lingerie beautifully disheveled.
Trails of sweat dripped down his own body, and as he remained inside you until he no longer could, he smoothed his hair back with his hands, fixing the stray pieces that had been misplaced during his efforts.
He leaned over and retrieved his glasses from the sofa, replacing them on his face with a few quick blinks, watching out of the corner of his eye as you carefully stood on wobbly legs from your spot, trying not to make a mess on the expensive threads that were soft on your feet.
Ray gracefully laid down on the carpet, his chest rising and falling heavily as he relaxed, his hand splayed across his abdomen comfortably while the other arm rested above his head.
Nothing was said as you grabbed your bag where it sat against the wall between the living room and kitchen, getting your clothes out to get ready to make your exit, not wanting to disrupt Ray’s night more than you already had.
He sighed, his glasses pushing up as he pinched his nose with his fingers, wishing you didn’t feel the need to whisk yourself away like you were nothing more to him than something to wet his cock.
Taking a deep inhale and blowing it slowly out through his mouth, he tipped his head, able to watch you where he knew you had strategically placed yourself between pieces of furniture for him to see.
You were bent over, stepping your feet into your shoes after having slipped your skirt over your waist, your bare pussy that he had just finished ruining on full display in those crotchless panties Ray knew he would be thinking about for days after.
“Come back over here.”
His voice cut through the room with a demand to be heard, making you pause in reaching for your shirt, a smile tugging at your lips.
“I’ll count to three.”
Once again, his warning came out far gentler than it should, his ability to so nonchalantly list off orders in that sultry voice making excitement bloom in your belly.
You turned on your heel to see him staring up at the ceiling, looking as divine as ever in the warm light of the fire that flickered over his features, his naked form a rare sight for anyone but you to see with it so frequently covered in layers of posh garments.
Ray was a bit recluse, and you didn't take his affection toward you for granted even for a second, smiling with a sense of pride and devotion as you kicked off your shoes and slowly made your way back over to the man your heart had begun to miss already.
He welcomed you by opening his arm, giving you space to tuck yourself up beside him, your head finding a spot on his chest where his heart thrummed in your ear.
“I wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place…” you reminded him, feeling slightly guilty over showing up unannounced.
Ray hummed, always carefully assessing whatever thoughts were about to pass through his lips, his thumb rubbing your arm languidly.
“No,” he blinked quickly, his tone lighter. “But I’m glad that you are.”
As much as Ray tried keeping things neat and tidy between you, he couldn’t ignore how tangled you had become in his soul, his thoughts distracted by you more times than he would care to admit or ever want the Boss to know of, something he swore would never happen taking place before his very eyes without any intention of stopping it.
Ray pressed a kiss to your temple, thinking how he had paid the price a long time ago with you, the expense of your love something he would go broke for a million times over, letting you take careful possession of the one thing he would never pay out to anyone else.
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josibunn · 6 months
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you’re the only one euro let’s punk him.
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you’re such a angry, bossy little thing, he loves it so bad. can get him rock hard sometimes. youre working at the counter and him and the band come in loud, and immediately you’re snapping at them.
“HEY.” you point, and when they jump and look towards you you’re glaring at them with glasses and a pen in your hand. “you see i’m studying. take that shit downstairs, and i’m not asking.” and they’re yes maaming you and hurrying downstairs.
he even lets you punk him in front of his friends, he doesn’t care. it’s so hot. “øystein, øystein,” you snapping your fingers at him while he sits on the couch. “I just cleaned up down here, don’t fuck it up already. this is your den, keep it clean. that means all of you, come get the shit up!” you point and hes on the floor before you could shift your weight. his friends hate it. “ronymous, be fuckin’ for real.” “dude, she’s got you on a leash.” to which he tells them off before he kisses your cheek and apologizes for the mess.
he caters to you when you’re bratty, “baby, sweetheart, what’s the issue? speak to me,” he cooes, hands cupping your cheeks but you just jerk away and recross your arms. had he been a little on edge he’d snatch you up and do something about your attitude, but everything’s been making you mad lately, so he was on his Ps and Qs.
or when you’re helping out with the band, fixing a string or breaking in drums and deep into what you’re doing. mrs. busybody (pretend you know how to do that shit lolz). he’s checking in on you from down in the den, “baby you want somethin to eat? im runnin to the deli,” he says sweetly, he knows not to bother you but he can’t help it, lord knows you probably haven’t eaten either.
“no.” “water? coke? a hoagie-” “no, øystein. leave me alone.” and you say it in a tone that has him pouting, but he just kisses your head and rubs your shoulder and makes a note to get you something, to which you brush off.
I love a simp sorry guys. it’s in my blood. send little drabbles nsfw or not idc :3
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roosterforme · 6 months
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Adult Education Part 8 | Hangman x OC
Summary: Plans for the fraternity alumni fundraiser that Jessica is in charge of are starting to take shape. And things with Jake are starting to heat up. But even after she tries her best to take care of her students in her own way, she feels like she will never be successful at this college.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smutty thigh riding, 18+
Length: 5200 words
Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC
This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist
Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32
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Jessica settled down in the spare seat in her friend's office with her slightly stale peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a notebook. "Wait, say that again. Beer pong with micro brewed beer? Come on, Advanced Calculus. Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of the frat boy vibe?" she asked with her pencil poised over the paper. 
The other woman laughed as she ate the turkey and avocado roll ups that her husband packed for her gorgeous looking lunch. Jessica would have had some of Jake's chili to bring except that she finished all of it on Sunday and Monday while she texted him about how good it was. 
"It would be an elevated frat boy vibe. I spent the weekend asking my husband what he would want out of an alumni event with his fraternity, and he came up with some pretty compelling ideas."
Jessica bit into her sandwich with a frown and chewed. "But depending on the turnout, a few kegs of fancy beer could be very expensive."
She shook her head and offered Jessica some mixed berries and a honey dipping sauce which she immediately accepted. "No, because Bradley knows a guy who owns a brewery in Solana Beach. He said he'd ask for a favor if you wanted him to."
Jessica perked up immediately. She had a friend. A friend who had a nice husband who was offering to help her out. As much as she wanted to dream big and believe she could get tenure if this thing was successful, she was afraid to hope too hard. 
But she couldn't help herself. "Solana Beach isn't that far away. You think this guy would really cut me some sort of deal? My budget from the school is pretty tiny."
She shrugged. "He was in Bradley's fraternity at UVA. He's actually a really nice guy, so I wouldn't be too surprised."
Jessica only had to think about it for another second. "Okay yes. I am very interested in this idea." Then she ate a few more berries and jotted down some other ideas they came up with. hors d'oeuvres from the culinary school
frat boys in tuxedos
sparkling wine
silent auction
As she was finishing the last item, the other woman asked, "How was your weekend with Jake?"
When Jessica met her eyes, she could tell she was blushing. But she laughed softly and said, "I think he's my boyfriend?"
"Really?" she asked, nearly dropping her turkey roll up on her lap. "I'm sorry, but are you serious? You and Jake are exclusive?"
"Yes," Jessica whispered. Right? Hadn't he made it clear he wasn't seeing anyone else and didn't want to? Oh shit. It had been so long since she'd done this, maybe she wasn't even doing it correctly. "Is that okay?"
"Oh my god! He just... I don't think... I don't ever remember mention of him having a girlfriend. Usually he just-" She cut herself off with a wince.
"Picks girls up for the night?" Jessica supplied. She sensed that about him and the way he'd told her some things about himself. But he also bought a new truck so he could make sure he was on time to see her. There was a lot to unpack here.
"Well. Yeah. But I'm not saying I'm surprised that he's into you! You're great! I'm just surprised in general."
"Same." She just hoped she wasn't about to make a fool of herself when Jake stopped by later during her office hours. When she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, she could feel the pull of the green lace against her skin underneath her cute pleated skirt, and her sheer stockings felt like silk. 
"Aside from the fact that he once called me Dr. Tits when he was belligerently drunk at my house, Jake is, and I say this a bit begrudgingly, actually really sweet. And kind. He dropped off two tickets for a Grateful Dead cover band last night since Bradley drove him around a few times after his truck broke down."
"I'm sorry.... did you say he called you Dr. Tits? Please, I'm going to need you to elaborate on that."
-----------------------------
Jake spent Monday night making the most perfect lasagna of his life and waiting until it cooled down to pack some individual containers for Jessica. Then when he left for work on Tuesday, he left them all lined up in his refrigerator so he could grab them on his way to her office hours. 
There was a guest speaker today, and Jake grabbed the empty seat next to Bradley who was trying to discreetly text his wife under the table before the lecture started. 
"What's Dr. Tits up to?" he drawled, earning an eye roll. 
"Text her yourself if you want to know," came the raspy response. "I'm going right to campus after work today to keep her company while she's on a phone conference," he added with a smirk. "Might stop by and talk to your girlfriend about her fundraiser while I'm there."
"That fraternity thing she has to do?" 
"Yeah," Bradley replied, finally putting his phone away. "Sugar asked me to be nice to her, so I'm going to try to save her some money on beer from Beta Brewing."
"Isn't that the place that ages the beer in bourbon barrels and sells it for an outrageous price?"
"Yeah," Bradley said with a laugh. "A guy who was in my fraternity owns it. I haven't seen him in a bit, but I was kind enough to text him on behalf of Jessica. Now will you please stop calling my wife Dr. Tits?"
"No," Jake replied smoothly as Maverick called everyone to attention. 
Bradley just grunted in response.
When they were released from the lecture, Jessica's office hours had already begun. Jake hadn't texted her much since he knew Tuesdays were busy for her. He just needed to get there before 7:00, because somehow if he arrived during her office hours, it made him feel like her student. And that made everything feel a little dirty. And he really fucking liked that. Plus she told him she was going to wear something sexy, and he'd been dying to find out what that meant.
He swung by his place and picked up the containers of lasagna and packed them in a cooler, and then he was off in his new truck. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd visited this part of the city before he met Jessica, but now he was constantly searching the side streets along campus for a parking spot. Tonight he found one on the same block as a familiar, blue Bronco.
Of course he got some looks from the college girls as he strolled toward the math and science building in his khaki uniform, but he was met with a glare from a man a little older than him with salt and pepper hair when he walked inside. 
"Evening," Jake drawled as the other man silently examined his uniform. He could feel eyes on him as he walked toward the elevators. It wasn't like he was forbidden to be here, so he just ignored him. This ride up to her floor and the walk down the hallway had become familiar to Jake. But when he raised his hand to knock, he heard the doorknob turn from the inside along with Jessica's muffled voice. So he leaned back against the opposite wall as the door cracked open. 
"Luca, there's no way I'm going to try out your skateboard."
"Come on, Dr. Reed. Just for a minute? It'll be really fun. But you probably shouldn't wear high heels."
She sighed and pulled her door open further, but she didn't notice Jake yet. "Fine. I'll try your skateboard on Thursday only after you show up on time and give me a full hour of your best effort."
"Sweet!" Luca said, giving her a high five. But now she was distracted by Jake as he smiled at her. 
"Not in the hallway!" Jessica shouted after Luca who set his board down and promptly picked it back up again. 
"My bad, Dr. Reed!"
Jessica was already wrapped up in Jake's arm, her lips ghosting over his. "Hey, Reedy," he whispered, and then he was being jerked away from the wall as she led him inside and closed the door, leaning back against it.
"Hi," she whispered back. Jake let his eyes drift down over her petite form and back up again, every inch of clothing and everything that was bare to him was making him salivate. She had on a rather short pleated skirt with sheer stockings and black heels. Plus he could see the telltale green strap peeking out from the white camisole as her cardigan slipped down her bare shoulder.
He swallowed hard. "You look nice, Baby. You having a good day?"
"Yes!" she gushed, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him harder this time. "My faculty meeting was blessedly canceled this morning, and I ate lunch with Advanced Calculus." 
Jake set the cooler down on her desk in the tiny office so he could have better access to her body. "That's great. You call her Advanced Calculus? That's actually so cute," he said as his hands came to rest on her hips. 
Jessica laughed, and he felt warm all over. "Yes, and she calls me Advanced Physics. And she's helping me plan that fraternity fundraiser along with her husband. Bradley actually stopped by a little while ago, before Luca was here. He's just the best. Advanced Calculus is so lucky."
"He's the best?" Jake asked, one eyebrow raised as he leaned down and kissed her bare shoulder making her shiver. "She's so lucky?"
When he ran his nose along that pretty green bra strap, she gasped. "Not as lucky as me."
Jake chuckled and murmured, "That's my smart girl." He brushed her hair aside and kissed his way from her shoulder up her neck to her ear while she clung to him. 
She cleared her throat and asked, "How was your day?" as she tried to pull away from him. But Jake kept her right where she was. 
"Better now," he promised. "Had to sit through a talk about the updates coming to my jet this summer. A new mechanical override and an updated comms system among other things."
"Ohhh," she sighed. "Did they give you a new spec sheet?" Her eyes were curious behind her glasses, and Jake was grinning.
"Sure did. You wanna see it?"
"Yes!"
"Well, that's classified, Baby."
She pouted and said, "Come on, Jake. I won't tell anyone. Can't you sneak one home with you or something?"
He ran his big hands up and down her back. "You want to work out some of the calculations, don't you?"
"Of course I do," she replied softly, and Jake was getting a little hot just thinking about her sitting in his kitchen with a pencil and a calculator. He trailed his hand down to her ass, and she was kissing him again as she touched his pins.
"If you really want to see them," he said between kisses, "I'll sneak them out." She giggled as she kissed his neck, and then his nose was buried in her hair. "God, you look so sexy, and you smell so sweet."
Her glasses bumped his cheek when she kissed his ear and raked her fingers through his hair. Every inch of the front of her body was pressed to his, and Jake just knew there was no coming back from this right now. Jessica had dressed like this with him in mind, and while her outfit was totally work appropriate, it was also a thing of fantasies. Skirts and heels and green lingerie and stockings. 
"I can't seem to stop thinking about you," she said in the sweetest voice before she sucked on his lip. He wondered if her stockings were the kind that ended at her thighs or the ones that went all the way up to her waist. He needed to know. She didn't make him wait for an answer. Jessica guided him to the chair behind her desk, and he sat down a little hard. She was standing right in front of him with her gaze fixed on his pants, and when Jake glanced down, he could see the outline of his cock as he stood at attention for her. 
"I'm sorry," he grunted, "but you turn me on so much."
"Don't apologize," she breathed, and he was treated to the sight of her sliding that cardigan down her arms. When she turned slightly and dropped it onto her desk, her skirt rode up her leg. Jake could see the lace trimmed top of her stocking hugging her thigh, and he groaned so loudly, her gaze snapped back to his. 
"Jessica." His voice was a needy whine, and for some reason this was so much worse than when he almost fucked her on his couch. Because she was his girl now, and he wanted every inch of her well acquainted with every inch of him. "Come here." When he patted his right thigh, she obeyed him immediately, coming to stand with his knee between her legs. 
Then she hesitated, and Jake didn't want to push anything. When he was just about to tell her that nothing sexual needed to happen here, he watched her reach up underneath her skirt and bend a little at the waist. His gaze shifted so rapidly from her pretty eyes to the lacy tops of her sheer stockings, he thought he might pass out. And then she started to slide that green thong down her hips to her thighs, and Jake caught the briefest glimpse of her pussy before her underwear was down her legs and her skirt fell into place once more.
"Fuck. Jessica." He was a panting mess as she stepped out of her thong and handed it to him. It was wet, and when he pressed it to his nose, it smelled incredible. And she was once again positioning herself with her legs straddling his right one before she came to rest with her pussy on his khaki covered thigh.
"Is this okay?" she whispered as her right knee nudged his cock, and his head tipped back slightly. She bit her lip and ran one gentle finger along his name tag, spelling out SERESIN while she looked him in the eye. 
"Yeah," he groaned. "God. It's more than okay." She kissed him with her palm planted on his chest, and Jake was living for the way her hips rocked forward. 
Her glasses and hair were tickling his face as she brought her other hand up to his neck, and then Jessica rocked her hips back and forward once again along his thigh. There was a smile on her lips as she kissed him and whispered, "You can set that down, you know." 
Jake was still gripping her thong in his hand, and he pressed it to his mouth and lips one more time before stuffing it in his breast pocket. The fact that she was rubbing her bare ass and pussy on his uniform had him painfully hard, but he didn't want her to stop. This was a thousand times better than any lap dance he'd ever had before. 
"You excited to see me today, Baby?" he asked, squeezing both of her knees with his hands and then guiding them up to her skirt. "This is a very warm welcome."
Her cheeks were flushed as Jake pushed her skirt up a few inches to play with the lace stockings. When he ran his thumbs along the soft, bare skin of her inner thighs, she whined his name. "Jake!" 
"Fuck," he grunted, squeezing her with both hands as she rode his thigh, now gripping both of his shoulders. She was kind of jerking her hips along as her glasses slid down her nose. Jake leaned in to kiss her neck and chest as he whispered, "You gonna get off like this?" She squeaked as his fingers toyed with her stockings before he brushed her wet slit with his thumb. 
"I never did before," she said, eyes a little wild now. Every time she rolled her hips back so she was sitting on her ass, she grunted a soft little sound that almost sent him through the roof. 
"Baby, you can't tell me things like that and make those perfect little sounds okay?" he whispered. "Because now I need to get you off." He guided one hand around to palm her bare ass and tipped her chin up with the other. "Okay?" he asked, running his thumb along her lips. She nodded and kissed his thumbprint before he reached down and lifted up her skirt. "Holy hell," he moaned. Her pussy looked exquisite, and there was a wet spot the size of her palm on his service khakis from her slick.
While he was absolutely aching to get his cock inside her, he knew there would be time for that later. This weekend, perhaps. But right now, he thought she was close to coming on his fucking uniform. In her goddamn office. On the college campus. And he needed to make it a reality, because he could feel her wetness on his leg as she ground down against him. 
So he kept his left hand on her ass, guiding her movements just a little slower as he took one more look at her pink pussy spread open for him, and he stroked her clit with his right thumb. And then Jessica was shaking almost instantly as she kissed his lips and muttered something incoherent. 
"Come on baby. You're so close," he whispered between kisses. "This is so hot." Every time her knee bumped his cock, he thought he might cum in his pants, but he kept her going. 
"Oh. My. God!" she whined suddenly before sucking in a deep breath and arching her back. Jake rubbed his face across her tits, nipples peaked through the fabric of her bra and camisole. And then she was coming and keening, and he eased up the pressure of his thumb and enjoyed every sound she made for him.
Jessica collapsed against his chest, lips pressed to his ear and cheek as she combed her fingers through his hair and rode out the little aftershocks. He ran his hand along her ass, stroking her until she stopped rocking gently against him. As she kissed her way to his lips, her fingers found his insignia pins just like always. Their kisses were soft and leisurely like she'd really worn herself out, and when she shifted, he grunted as her knee nudged his cock again.
She looked at him with wide eyes as she brought her hand down to his pants. "I'm so sorry," she gasped with a soft laugh. "I'm in such a daze, I wasn't even thinking. Let me take care of you."
Jake was shaking his head and immediately reaching for her hand. "Absolutely not." He would cum in an instant if she touched his bare dick with any part of her pretty body, and that was not something he was interested in at the moment. 
"Why not?" she asked, looking thoroughly upset now as she pulled away from him to stand. Jake had to bite his knuckle at the sight of the mess she left on his khakis, and his cock jumped painfully in his pants. 
"Baby, look what you did," he crooned, gesturing at his thigh. "It's gorgeous." But when he met her eyes, she was blushing and reaching for her cardigan. "Jessica, I can't have you taking care of this for me right now. I'm too worked up, and I'd rather have blue balls than cum as soon as you look at me, okay?"
She laughed as she pulled her sweater on, and she let Jake kiss her. "Okay," she replied softly as she looked down at his wet pants. "I can't believe I did that."
"Listen," he whispered, boxing her in between his body and her desk. "I think you should come spend the weekend at my place. Pack an overnight back and some more journals... the real sexy ones on the top shelf over there." He jerked his chin toward her bookshelf. "And I'll steal you a top secret spec sheet that could cost me some of my pins that you like touching so much."
"I could do that," she replied with a smile. "I need to go up to Beta Brewing with Bradley on Saturday morning, but after that, I'm free."
Jake kissed her as he pulled her green thong out of his pocket. "Sounds perfect. And I'm going to need you to wear this again on Saturday, okay? I didn't even get to see the bra yet."
She balled it up in her hand like she was suddenly embarrassed by it. "Alright." But he tipped her chin up again so she was looking at him.
"I can't get enough of you."
Then the sweet kisses returned before she took him by the hand and selected a small stack of journals for him to take him. "Here's a spicy one from the top shelf," she told him with a smile that made him feel weak. Then he said he would walk her and the cooler of food to her car. And she tried to hide her face against his pins when that same guy was walking through the lobby again, because Jake still had a wet spot on his pants from her pussy. 
"You think I care?" he whispered to her before he nodded at the guy with salt and pepper hair. "I got my girl with me, and she got off on me."
"Jake," she gasped with a laugh, pulling him outside quickly. "He's the head of the chemistry department. And he already hates me."
"Who in their right mind could hate you?" His mind drifted for a moment to all the supposed rumors about her that were floating around. "Wait, is he the guy who got permanently banned from Chippy's?" He dug his feet in and there was no way she could pull him anywhere. "Why doesn't he like you?"
Jake was turning back to look into the building, ready to give this asshole a piece of his mind, but Jessica was still pulling on him. "Don't worry about it. Walk me to my car so we can make out." But he was going to worry about it. And yeah, he made out with her next to her car until he was starting to get hard again, which was honestly very painful now. And he was still thinking about it when he watched her pull away. He headed home to jerk off and start to consider what he could cook this weekend, but it still really irritated him that someone found something to dislike about the first woman he ever thought he could be serious with. Because in his mind, she was perfect. 
-----------------------------
"Luca, focus on the math, or I'm not going to embarrass myself on your skateboard."
"Sorry, Dr. Reed."
Jessica had to keep drawing her failing student's attention back to the problem sheet in front of him, but that threat really seemed to do the trick. For some reason, this kid really wanted to see her eat asphalt. And now he was solving all of the problems correctly. "Yes! Keep going." She watched him write out the long equation for the last question, and she murmured, "One just like that will be on the exam next week."
"Sweet," he replied with a smile. "I'll study this weekend. Weather is supposed to be shitty for surfing."
She rolled her eyes but collected his paper when he was finished. "This is all correct," she said as she stood up on the other side of the desk in her sneakers and pantsuit. "You just always rush instead of taking your time. I know you can pass my classes. You need them to graduate on time."
"I know," he whined and sat back in the other chair. "I'll keep coming to your office hours."
"Just keep trying and keep studying. I know it's not as hard as you think it is."
Then he stood and picked up his skateboard, and Jessica groaned. "Okay, but only for a minute."
"You say that now, but I think you're going to love it," Luca said as she followed him out of her office and down the hallway. "You're at least fifty years younger than everyone else who works here. You might think skateboarding is fun."
Jessica had to stifle a snort as they walked past Dr. Leeland's open door where he was napping in his chair. "That's not polite, Luca," she managed to say.
"Yeah, but it's still true."
On the ride down the elevator, she listened to him explain how to keep yourself balanced while riding. "Don't make any sudden movements. And don't lean backwards. Actually, don't lean forward either."
Jessica sighed. At least she could spend about a half second on this skateboard and then excuse herself back up to her office to pack up. Then she could call Jake on her way home and hear his sexy voice and talk about the weekend.
Once they were outside on the deserted sidewalk which was lit up by the dying sunset and campus security lights, Luca set the skateboard down with a huge grin on his face. "You're the coolest, Professor Reed. Now step up with your right foot."
She tried it and shook her head before planting both feet back on the ground. "Nope. It's already rolling away!"
"Here. I'll stand on the front so it won't move so much while you get on it."
With a deep sigh, she tried it again, but she started wobbling from side to side this time. "Luca!" she gasped, reaching for his outstretched hand. "This is not fun!"
He was laughing as he said, "It takes practice. Just hold my hand for a second and push off with your left foot." When he removed his foot from the board, she pushed off and went gliding forward as she screeched and held onto his hand with a death grip. "Yeah! That's it!" 
She jumped off, looked at him, and said, "Can I do it again?" 
Five minutes later, she was laughing as she tried pushing off with her right foot. "I can recommend a great skate shop for you!" Luca said as she slowly skated away from him and down the sidewalk. Damn, this was kind of addicting. She jumped down and skated back toward him as she cackled.
"You better move. I'm coming in hot!" she said, rolling so slowly it was laughable. Then she looked up into the icy blue eyes of Brian Conley who was scowling at her. She jumped awkwardly off of the skateboard, and it continued to roll to Luca who picked it up.
"What the hell are you doing, Dr. Reed?" Brian practically yelled even though she was right in front of him. She hated that she immediately felt tears stinging behind her eyes. "Can't you be professional for even just ten minutes?"
"I was just-" she started, but then Luca cut in when she really wished he wouldn't.
"It was my idea, Dr. Conley. Dr. Reed just finished tutoring me, and I thought it would be fun."
Brian just shook his head and sighed. "That's enough fun for one day I think."
"I'm sorry, Dr. Reed," Luca muttered as he hoisted his backpack on and started skating away. And then Jessica really wished she could vanish, because Jake was heading up the sidewalk at a blistering pace, a scowl on his handsome features while Brian went off.
"It's not your job to be messing around with your students. It is your job to be teaching them. I know for a fact that you have several students failing your classes, and I don't think skateboarding with them is quite the correct answer here, do you? If you think you're even close to being qualified for tenure, you are out of your mind!"
All she could picture was Leeland asleep during his office hours. All she wanted to do was relate to Luca a little bit to keep him interested in things. She was just upholding her end of the bargain since he did so great with the practice problems.
"You're such an asshole," she whispered as her vision blurred with unshed tears. 
When Brian took a step closer so that he was almost touching her, Jessica heard Jake's voice call out in a loud bark. "Hey! Why is she crying?"
"I'm okay," she said softly which just made her want to cry even more. She pushed Brian away from herself and walked the rest of the way toward Jake who had his hands in fists and fire in his eyes. "I'm okay." She had to plant both palms on his chest to get him to look at her instead of Brian. 
"Why are you crying?" he asked, gentler this time as Brian stormed back inside the building. "Should I be going after him?"
"No," she said as she hiccuped, and Jake pulled her against his chest so her glasses got smashed at a weird angle. But she immediately felt better. "What are you doing here?"
He rubbed her back and said, "I missed you and thought maybe you'd want to go to Chippy's after your office hours. I know you were supposed to help that kid Luca, but I figured you might feel like getting a Sam Adams with me. Didn't know I'd potentially have to kick that guy's ass."
Jessica felt like she was going to say something she had no business telling him yet. So she tamped down the words and instead said, "You don't need to kick Brian Conley's ass. He's not even worth it. And I would absolutely love to go to Chippy's with you."
She kissed Jake long and hard on the lips before leading him inside and back up to her office to pack up her things and lock the door. Then they walked across the street, hand in hand. Jake held the door for her, and he finally looked a little calmer now as he walked into Chippy's right behind her. 
"I'm just waiting for him to glare at me," Jake said as he wrapped his arm around her waist. "I really need to take you to the Hard Deck one night, because honestly, Penny could give him a run for his money."
"I'd love to see that," she said with her first smile since she was on the skateboard. She laced her fingers with Jake's and led him to an empty table.
"Reedy," Chippy called out, and sure enough, there was a special glare reserved for Jake. Jessica was beaming by the time he pulled out a stool for her and kissed her. 
"I'll be right back. Hopefully," Jake said with a look of extreme fear as he headed to the bar. This was her peaceful space away from Brian. And she felt safe with Jake and Chippy. And Jake was completely right; a beer and some peanuts were exactly what she needed right now. 
-----------------------------
Can't wait to check in with Beer Boy's former frat brother. And can't wait for Reedy to spend some more time at Jake's place. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
@blahehblah
@sotalife
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@whisperofsong
@seriouslyseresin
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@cottagecori
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beatrixstonehill2 · 3 months
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"Hey guys..... it's your favorite 'Vixen' back again after a very long hiatus..... Surprise! I detransitioned! And I might have packed on a pound or two. 😅 So, for those who guessed the girl I started dating was a TERF, you get the grand prize, I guess! She was so pretty and had an affinity for school uniforms.... so I swiped right. I messaged her and she told me she thought I was beautiful, that we should meet up for drinks, and that my breasts looked absolutely mouth watering. I thanked her, thinking little of it at the time, and got super excited to meet with her.
We met up, and she was wearing one of her uniforms, straight up to our date! I complimented her, she told me her name was Miranda, and I told her mine was Virago. She smiled and said it sounds exotic. She looked so naughty, I shifted nervously in place, recrossing my legs. She eyed me up and down and asked if I was actually a boy pretending to be a girl. I denied it, but then she laughed and told me she knew I was fidgeting because I had a hard on. That she loved dressing in kinky outfits girls wear in porn and hentais because it always attracts perverted men like me. Hearing her say these things made me even harder, I couldn't contain myself, I started rubbing my crotch. She laughed again, telling the waiter to address me as he/him and sir, that I can barely control my raging hard on. I blushed, and the waiter smiled and said that I don't look much like a real girl anyway, and he was only calling me she/her to be polite.
I couldn't handle it. I jerked off under the table as my breasts bounced out of my top. Onlookers watched and pointed, snickering as I pumped and pumped until I came on the floor. Miranda was elated, cheering me on, calling me a disgusting, gooner boy addicted to porn. She told me as I tried to clean up that I don't get a reduction because my ideas about women are all fueled by porn, so I flaunt my boobs online and give into male fantasies. She told me she wanted to 'correct' me, and turn me into the man I'm supposed to be.... starting with my boobs.....
I got top surgery the very next week, although now I'm basically growing tits all over again. I edge all day but only Miranda tells me when I'm allowed to cum, which is pure agony for such a perverted gooner like me. All I do is eat and watch porn. When I went to the doctor and told him I want to go on T and detrans he just smiled and said he knew I'd come to my senses sooner or later, that most of the big-breasted, ultra oversexed, beautiful trans girls he had as patients were all detransing for one reason or another. I told him 'Good' as he filled out my new scripts..... But Miranda ensured I wouldn't be some sexy, athletic guy. No, I had to be punished. She feeds me over 12K calories a day. I'm almost 400lbs in just a couple years and Miranda is as addicted to feeding me as I am to eating and jerking off. She tells me perverted guys like me deserve to all become fat, disgusting pigs so the whole world knows how gross we really are. She loves berating me in public, calling me useless, a cow, a pig, a slob, shouting at me that all I do is watch porn and stroke my little cock. I can hardly remember being 'Virago' or having such a sexy body. I live only to be Miranda's hog boyfriend who going to get fatter and fatter, until I can't leave the house or even bathe anymore....."
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flowerishness · 16 days
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Primula vulgaris and Primula hybida (Common primrose and complex primula hybrid)
The word primula is derived from primis, Latin for 'first'. This refers to it's peak flowering season in early spring. Photos one and two are easily identified as the common primrose, Primula vulgaris, which originally had pale yellow flowers. Colored forms did not appear in Europe until 1656 when Primula acaulis rubra, a mauve primrose, was introduced from Turkey by John Tradescant. Thus began the Elizabethan primrose craze.
The final two primroses are complex hybrids, often the result of crossing and recrossing several species over centuries of cultivation. These fancy primroses look like cancan dancers to me and they certainly bring a bit of excitement to a spring garden, so I say, " Vive la différence!
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dingochef · 6 months
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Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x OFC (Reader)
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Roleplay, power differential, cum play, p in v, oral (m&f receiving), dom/sub elements, edging, orgasm denial, masturbation, slight shoe kink
My small contribution to Kinktober.
Masterlist
Measure of Man
You are seated at your dining table, waiting for Jake to arrive home and to find the sticky note you left on the front door,
"Lt. Seresin,
Report to my office immediately.
-Dr. Matthews"
This idea has been floating in your head for awhile, an opportunity to have a little different kind of fun with Jake. Frankly after the shitty day you had at work, the appeal of getting outside of your own head and piss poor mood sounded good and hopefully you'd get a good orgasm or two out of it.
Jake steps into the house holding the sticky note in his hand, a quizzical look on his face as he holds it up. You talk before he can.
"Take a seat, Lieutenant Seresin," you direct Jake to sit in the kitchen chair pulled out from the table. You've staged your dining room table to be a "desk" including an old name plate that reads, "Dr. Elsa Matthews, PhD."
Jake gives you a slightly raised eyebrow as he sits down.
Picking up a file folder you ask Jake,
"Do you know why you're here?"
"No, El,--" he responds tentatively before you cut him off.
"I thought you Navy guys were good with titles, please address me as Dr. or Ma'am. I've been called here to evaluate your ability to go on a very important mission."
"Okay, Ma'am," he responds, his Texan accent coming out, he nods to complete the act of deference.
"We have two options, one, I ask you questions and you give me answers you think I want to hear," you say walking around the kitchen table to sit on the edge, crossing your legs. Jake's gaze at your legs tucked into a tight pencil skirt and the high black heels you're wearing does not go unnoticed.
"Or two, we employ a more hands-on method," you finish.
Jake smirks that cocky grin of his and sits up a little straighter, his brain having caught on to your game.
"I'd be interested in hearing more about this hands-on approach, Ma'am."
"It's a little unorthodox, but trust me when I say you'll be satisfied with the results. So, what will it be, Lieutenant?"
You uncross your legs and recross them as he ponders your words, your movement distracting him slightly,
"Uhh, the second one," he answers as he clears his throat.
"Excellent, let's get started," you say hopping off the table, "Take your clothes off, we'll start with the physical examination first."
Jake looks at you not sure exactly where this is going,
"I thought this was a psych evaluation, Ma'am."
"Is a comprehensive exam to evaluate a few characteristics like your overall fitness for the mission, physical stamina, impulse control, your ability to follow orders, and most of all my satisfaction that you're up to the mission requirements. If you don't want to do this, Lieutenant Seresin, I can just move on to my next appointment,"
you glance down at the file folder on the desk,
"A Lieutenant Bradshaw? Maybe he'll be more cooperative and eager to please me?"
Jake scowls and stands up and starts to strip, starting with his uniform shirt.
"Oh, I think you'll find me very eager to please and definitely will satisfy all your requirements, Dr. Matthews,"
he says, stripping off his uniform shirt and undershirt draping them across the back of the chair. He kneels down to untie his boots, pulling them off along with his socks that he neatly tucks under the chair. Jake stands up in a parade rest waiting for your next command.
"Everything, Lieutenant. You'll find I'm very thorough in my exam," you say, as sternly as you can as you reach forward and cup Jake through his khakis. His hips buck forward reflexively and his cock starts to harden under your hand.
Jake hides a small grin as he slowly moves his hands to his belt buckle unlatching the gold metal. After undoing the button and zipper he pushes down his pants and underwear in one smooth motion before standing back up. His cock proud and erect in front of him.
You pick up a fabric tape measure and a clipboard from your "desk" and step over to Jake.
The tape measure slides easily over one of Jake's biceps; you pretend to write down a measurement on your clipboard. You let the tape measure trail around Jake's body as your hands smooth over his hard muscle and golden skin and you "accidentally" bump your body into his, like when you step away after measuring his waist you let your fabric covered ass graze his erection. All the while you're marking down "measurements" on the notepad and occasionally humming small words of praise. Jake is standing perfectly still and the only way he lets on how he is affected by your touch is the occasional sharp inhale when you graze his cock. Your last move is to wrap your hand around his cock and hold it out to be measured. You hold the tape measure end to the base of his cock, the cold of the metal tip causing him to startle. Your other hand lifts his member up and you pull the tape measure along length, earning a light grunt from Jake. You let the tape measure fall away and keep fisting his cock. Jake looks down at you trying to read your face.
You maintain a disinterested, professional look as you continue to jerk him off, enjoying the muted moans and grunts as he keeps up the facade. Just as he starts to thrust his hips in time to your motions you pull your hand away, pulling an anguished whine from Jake.
Satisfied with your teasing you step back and lean against the table.
"Impressive Lieutenant," you say,
"Peak physical condition."
Jake is lightly glaring at you while his dick drips precum, his green eyes locked onto yours as he awaits your next direction. The power and tension in the air along with Jake's naked body on display has wetness pooling between your legs. You sit back down on the desk and open your legs as much as you can in the tight pencil skirt. Jake's eyes automatically drop to your apex as the skirt starts to slide up. You can tell the moment he locks onto the lacey thong you're wearing; you have no doubt that there is a darker patch visible on the delicate fabric betraying your arousal. Jake smirks a little at that revelation.
"Next is the oral exam," you say, trying to maintain a professional tone. Jake nods and raises an eyebrow.
"Kneel lieutenant," you order and Jake slowly lowers himself to the floor, still a few feet away from the table.
"Your next task is to make me come with, what I've been told, is quite the mouth on you," Jake breaks into a smile and starts to shuffle forward on his knees to get closer to you,
"As timing is everything you've got five minutes to make me come, starting now."
You hit a timer on your phone laying on the table to emphasize your point.
You had expected Jake to dive in, frenzied to get you off, but he starts at a slower pace kissing up your legs and between your thighs. His confidence in his ability to make you cum translating to a leisurely pace. When he reaches your lace covered mound he breathes your scent in deeply. He drops a sweet kiss over the dark spot and slides his hands up to pull your thong off dropping it to the floor. Jake picks up your feet where they are dangling and places them on the table so you are butterflied completely open for him. The anticipation and just how close he is to your pussy makes you squirm with need. He is kissing all around you, except where you need him most. Finally, he runs his tongue down through your folds into your slit and back up around your clit. A loud sigh mixed with a moan escapes you as you try to hold yourself up so you watch Jake's every move. Jake lets out a muffled moan as he licks your clit. Two of his thick fingers circle around your slit, he gently slides one in quickly followed by the other. The stretch just the right side of intense and you feel yourself gush more arousal around his fingers. He moves his fingers in time with his assault on your clit. That burning need inside you starts to build deep in your belly. Jake curls his fingers in a come hither motion as he speeds up his efforts on your clit. The change in sensation ratchets you up another notch closer to your peak. Jake recognizes the flutter of your soft walls and your breathy moans and speeds up even more, determined to push you over the edge. All it takes is one furious suck on your clit and you are soaring a loud scream bursting forth from you.
You lay down against the table catching your breath as Jake continues to leave gentle kisses around your mound and your thighs.
Leaning up on your elbows, you take in the sight of Jake as he wipes his chin on his arm. Grabbing the clipboard you turn the timer off and inform him,
"You have successfully passed the oral portion of the evaluation, with some time to spare."
Jake smugly grins from between your legs awaiting your next request.
"Take a seat, Lieutenant," you order and Jake complies quickly.
"One characteristic we look for in a mission leader is the ability to control your base impulses, to put others first," you state, walking around his chair, your fingers trailing across his broad shoulders.
"I can assure you that I'm very in control and everyone comes before me," Jake says, earnestly.
You have to bite your cheek not to laugh at the double entendre Jake is laying down.
"This next exercise is designed to test that theory exactly."
Jake watches you with his intense green eyes as you stand in front of him and start to unbutton your very professional white blouse revealing the matching bra to your thong on the floor.
You turn your back to Jake and unzip your skirt letting it fall. Your bra follows soon after till you are completely naked save for your heels in front of Jake. He greedily eyes you up from head to toe, a subconscious lick of his lips betraying his lust along with his obvious erection.
Walking confidently to where Jake sits you straddle one of his legs and pull his chin up so your eyes meet.
"I'm going to ride your cock, but you are not allowed to come. If you feel close say, "parachute." I might ease up or just keep fucking you, see how far I can push you. Say "Red" if it's too much and we stop, understood, Lieutenant?"
Jake swallows hard and responds,
"Yes Ma'am."
You bend down and quickly take Jake's hard cock in your mouth as far as it can go, the action punches out a surprised moan from Jake. You pull off and keep a hold of his cock as you guide it inside of you, a long moan of satisfaction boiling up from Jake's throat. You enjoy the feeling of connection and see that Jake is doing everything in his power not to start thrusting up into you. He waits patiently for you to move. Feeling a bit generous you grab the short hair at the back of his neck and pull, forcing his lips up for you to greedily kiss. You start a slow roll of your hips up and down his cock. Jake's hands hang at his sides.
"Hands behind your head," you order and Jake complies.
You lick your fingers and reach down to rub your sensitive clit as you move up and down.
"Quite the impressive performance so far, Lieutenant Seresin. I look forward to the rest of your evaluation," you say, your pace of your hips steadily increasing along with your rhythm on your clit. You watch every twitch and look of pleasure on Jake's face as you ride him. Jake grips at his own hair and tenses his arm muscles as he tries to stave off his impending release. You put as much muscle as you can into your movements up and down which pushes you closer to the edge.
"Mmm, I know I'm close to another. How are you doing? You're not going to disappoint me and come, are you?" you tease.
"No, Ma'am. Want to be good for you," Jake grits out, eyes rolling back as you climax on his cock, squeezing hard as you peak. You're relentless as you keep riding him, bracing your feet on the chair by his thighs to give you even more leverage. The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans of pleasure, and Jake's grunts through gritted teeth. You manage to squeeze out another orgasm before Jake grunts out,
"Parachute."
You still your hips, but stay perched on his cock. You dismount and turn around so you can guide him in from behind.
"Good control, Lieutenant. Let's resume," you say as you start to ride him again. You repeat this game several more times, driving Jake to the edge and then stopping short. Abruptly you stand up disconnecting from Jake.
Jake looks lost as you look down at him, his dick hard, red, and pulsing.
"Please, El, need you, need to come," he pleads, breaking his character.
"Lieutenant Seresin, I will not tolerate your insubordination and lack of respect. Stand up," you order, your voice a bit hard.
Jake nearly stumbles as he follows your order, he stands before you in a parade rest, chest slightly heaving. You lean up and kiss just below his ear as you lazily stroke down his chest, just ghosting over his cock.
"I was going to let you come, Lieutenant, but now I'm not so sure. Your impulse control and ability to follow orders leaves something to be desired. You're going to have to do a good job of convincing me why you should come." You sit back down on the desk.
"Yes Ma'am. I understand and I apologize for disrespecting you," Jake replies, the building desperation apparent in his voice.
"Come closer," you bark and Jake steps closer.
You trail the toe of your shoe up Jake's inner thigh and just barely lift his balls with the shiny patent leather; the ecstasy on his face betrays how much even this little touch is pushing him closer to the edge.
"Why should I let you come, Seresin?"
you ask, mockingly, as you run your shoe on the underside of his dick. Jake lets out a ragged sob of a moan, grateful for some touch. He slowly starts to thrust at your foot, obviously desperate for something.
"Please Ma'am, please let me come. I'll eat you out for the rest of the day, the rest of the week. I'll live under your desk and give you head during all your appointments," Jake pleads, eyes screwing shut as he continues to thrust at your shoe and the air.
"Negotiating, good tactic. Glad to see you can think on your feet. Touch yourself, Lieutenant."
You drop your foot away as Jake starts to fist his cock. He opens his eyes, the desperation to come heavy in his eyes.
"May I come, Ma'am?" he rasps out.
You pretend to ponder it for a moment watching the panic start to build on Jake's face which quickly turns to pure need as you slide off the table and to your knees in front of him. You take his cock in your hand and continue to stroke him.
"I think you've passed my evaluation today. I'm satisfied with the results, are you Lieutenant Seresin?" you coo.
You finish your sentence by taking in his length into your mouth, relishing in the sounds you are pulling out of Jake at this needy moment. You start to bob your head along his cock, determined to push him over the edge.
"Yes, fuck…ahh, yes, I'm satisfied with the result, Dr….ahhh, shit, Dr. Matthews. Please, may I come?" he asks, voice strained.
You pop him out your mouth and continue to jerk him off,
"Yes, you can come."
Jake lets out a loud low moan as he climaxes, spurts of hot cum landing on your face and tongue. His jaw agape and muscles tensed as he watches his release puddle on your face.
"Holy fuck, fuck, El," he stutters a long with the last thrusts of his hips to eek out the last drops of pleasure.
Jake reaches out to gently cup your face as he catches his breath, his thumb catching some of his come and pushing it onto your tongue. You suck lightly on his thumb earning a small moan from him. He turns around and hands you his discarded T-shirt to clean up.
Mostly cleaned up, you wrap your arms around Jake's neck and pull him down for a sweet kiss. Jake wraps his arms around you, returning the gesture.
"Was that okay?" you ask, suddenly feeling a little off. Roleplay was something you had discussed before but today was probably a bit of a surprise for him.
"That was very okay, and you did a good job of checking in. Trust me to know my limits, El. Also it was hot as fuck and I may have cummed my brains out. Shower?" he says, soothingly to you.
Your doubt quelled, you lead Jake to the shower and sit him on the bench, washing his hair first. He leans into your touch, letting you take care of him.
"Anything in particular bring that on, El?" Jake asks, after a few minutes, as you scrub his back.
"Very shitty day at work, some asshat vendor kept talking over me and mansplaining something I had to remind him that I have a god damn patent on and my boss didn't seem to care. Just felt so frustrated and…small," you say.
Jake turns around,
"So you wanted to be the powerful goddess that you are by ordering around your very manly, virile, burly, extremely handsome, peak of maleness, strong aviator boyfriend?" he asks, getting to the heart of the matter.
You smile at his self praise and duck your head into his chest,
"Well, yes, when you put it that way I feel a little embarrassed."
Jake cups your chin and pulls your face out to meet his gaze, he sweetly kisses you on the forehead,
"Don't be, El. It was hot as fuck and I'm glad I'm here for you in a way that was very mutually pleasurable. It really turns me on when you take what you want, what you need."
"Thank you, Jake."
"Anytime, El. Anytime. Plus it gave me a couple of ideas for the future."
@kmc1989
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@lanie-k
@callsign-viper
@senjoritanana
@djs8891
@atarmychick007
@memoriesat30
@midnightmagpiemama
@mygyn
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carolmunson · 1 year
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Carol, I always have horny thots. Tonight and every night <3 But tonight especially I am thinking about Eddie Munson making you watch him stroke his cock. You aren't allowed to touch him and you certainly cannot touch yourself. But you have to watch him get off. And hear all the absolutely disgusting things he has to say about it.
K byeeeeeeeee
It’s honestly his favorite way to play, assuming we’re dealing with a much more confident and mean Eddie Munson. Post Corroded Show at a slightly nicer bar, really feeling himself. But you’re kind of on his shit list right now ‘cause you got into a couple fights about how he acts when he plays a gig.
‘You’re always actin’ single when you have that stupid guitar around your neck.’
And neither of you have really ‘declared’ anything, he wasn’t calling you girlfriend and you weren’t calling him boyfriend. But there was something about the way his jaw ticked if a guy looked at you for too long. Something about the way you seethed when he smiled at a girl across the bar.
He gets home, a little boozed up, and he knows you’ll be there waiting up for him — already regretting giving you a key to his place. Cause you’re not his girlfriend and he’s not your boyfriend, even though he’s got a key to your place, too.
“Hey you,” he says casually, tossing his jacket on the couch before stomping over to his room.
“‘Hey you?’” you repeat, your socked feet padding down the hall to follow him, arms crossed right over your chest in an oversized Camp Hawkins tee, “You said you’d be back at midnight, it’s 2:30 in the morning.”
He smirks, looking at his watch, “So it is.”
“Well, what the fuck, Ed?” you whisper yell, “Too caught up with the bitches at the bar to call?”
He groans with an eye roll, “You do this shit every time. There’s no ‘other bitches’, babe.”
“Then why were you out so late?” you ask, watching him undress. Your eyes round while they slide over his sweaty chest, tattoos glistening. Swallowing when he reached for his belt.
“Someone upset I kept her waiting up all night to get fucked?” he teases, slowing down his movements while he undoes the clasp. The clink of the metal makes you shiver, the way his eyes liner on you makes your squirm, “Did you want me to come home and fuck you, sweetheart?”
“I — ugh, yeah,” you huff, recrossing your arms so your breasts rested on the shelf you created. He knows your game, but he’s gonna play his own.
“Get on your knees, baby,” he demands, but it’s light hearted. A whisper of a command. You kneel immediately.
“Hands under your shins,” he continues, peeling his jeans down of his legs. He’s left only in a pair of boxer briefs and his jewelry, the soft light from his side table illuminating him like stark marble. He takes a seat at the end of the bed in front of you, legs spread wide while he reaches into his underwear, “Other bitches? Look how hard you got me just by gettin’ on your knees.”
You reach up, but he slaps your hand away with a snap, “No, you don’t get to touch. You know why?”
“No,” you whine, tucking your hand back under your shin.
“‘Cause you’re such a greedy girl,” he spits, hand squeezing the base of his leaking cock while his thumb trails slowly up the shaft, “Always thinkin’ you’re gonna get my dick when I walk in the door.”
“Say you want it,” he asks, eyes narrowing down his nose at you. His hand slides up in firm stroke that makes his brows pinch, groaning, “S-say you want this dick, baby.”
“I want it,” you breathe out, voice raising a few octaves while you squeeze your thighs together for friction.
He grins evilly, pace picking up a bit on his cock, “You wanna touch that pretty pussy, huh?”
“Please, Ed, please let me,” you beg, digging your nails into the skin of your shins to keep yourself from gliding your hands between your legs.
“No, princess. Can’t touch what isn’t yours,” his mischievous glare dances over you, watching you start to squirm, your face getting hot. He swore you might even be drooling a little, and he’d be right.
“And now I gotta — shit, fuck — sit here with my dick in my hand and think about how good you feel when I fuck you,” he rasps out, head tilting back to stretch out the thick column of his pale neck, “‘C-cause y’can’t — mmm, shit — fuckin’ behave.”
“You know what I’m thinkin’ about princess?” he asks, eyes fluttering closed, thighs tensing.
“Wh-what’re you thinkin’ about?” you respond, watching him slow his strokes over his cock, slowly teasing the tip with his thumb.
“Remember the other night at Steve’s when you were gettin’ real cozy with one of those nobodies?” he opens his eyes, posture stiffening while he lifts his head up to look down at you, other hand reaching to cup his balls. You nod, you remember, you flirted with that guy on purpose.
“All I could think about was bendin’ you over Steve’s couch an’ — mmm, god FUCK — fuckin’ you in fr-front of ‘im. ‘Cause you’re — oh, shitshitshit — you’re my — ah, oh god — my fuckin’ — my fuckin’ girl.” His speed picks up, eyes narrowing at you again while sweat builds on his forehead,
“You’re my fuckin’ slut, d’y’understand me?” he raises his voice and you pray to God you don’t cum from the sentence alone, “And that’s my fucking pussy.”
“S’yours — I’m yours,” you pant back breathily while he starts to thrust hard into his fist.
“Shit, you feel so good, baby,” he whines to himself, eyes closing to continue imaging you beneath him, ass bouncing back against him, “Oh, oh m’gonna fuckin’ cum. Oh, shit!”
You barely register what’s happening until your feel it — ropes of his cum spurting over you, landing hot on your face. He doesn’t stop, standing and angling himself to make sure it lands all over you. Satisfied when your face and hair is dripping with his spend. You shut your eyes tight but feel his ragged breaths while he comes down. It’s quiet for a moment before you feel him toss a towel at you.
“Clean yourself up and then get back in here,” he says gruffly, “Gotta fuckin’ use you after that.”
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onlymingyus · 7 months
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Love Therapy (Patreon Exclusive)
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pairing; kwon soonyoung x f reader
genre; smut (minors dni), angst
warnings; marriage, therapy, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), scratching, a bit of manhandling, crying from pleasure, teasing, slight degrading, pet names
w/c; 3.8k and some change (352 this teaser)
a/n; written for sweet bambi @horanghater thank you to @onlyhuis for proofreading part of this for me -- I hope you like it darlin! love therapy by shownu x hyungwon was a bit of the inspo for this
this fic is a Patreon Exclusive subscribe to my Patreon and click here
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“So, I just tell you my problems?” 
Soonyoung smiles at your words as he looks down at the tablet in his hands. Out of habit, he doodles the small face of a tiger just as he'd done many times before, the stylus held loosely between his fingers as he listens and nods. 
“Mhm, just tell me the things that are bothering you the most. We can start there.” 
Uncrossing your legs, you huff under your breath before recrossing your legs in the other direction. Soonyoung can’t help but peek at your fingers tugging at the end of your skirt as you pull at the material hugging your thighs. You were clearly frustrated, but that is why you had asked for this session. 
“Fine…” 
The word slips off your lips with a breath of annoyance causing Soonyoung to smirk though he is quick to hide it when you immediately pick up where you left off. He was a good therapist. Yes, his focus was on relationships…sex therapy to be specific, but that is why you were both here in this room. Something had to change. 
“He focuses on himself. He stopped asking what I want in bed a long time ago.” 
Furrowing his brows, Soonyoung makes a note of what you had said before running his tongue along his teeth with a nod. You watch the man swallow hard before he meets your eyes briefly, gesturing for you to continue. 
“Okay…he thinks he has to be in control all the time. Why can’t I be in control for once? Do you think he has issues with his mother? Is this a control issue going back to his childhood, Doctor?” 
Reaching up to scratch at his lip, Soonyoung doesn’t answer, instead, he clears his throat and puts the stylus back on the tablet taking the note before lifting his eyes. 
“What else is bothering you, Y/N? Is there anything in the bedroom that he isn’t providing for you? Anything you’ve wanted to try and your husband hasn’t been catching on?” 
Tilting your head, you think about the question before humming incredulously and nodding. 
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